Eldritch Horror Theatre

They actually went to a place like that?

As Cass shared more details, Fu Qian felt his earlier comparison to finding a needle in a haystack was inexplicably fitting.

At the same time, that bloody precedent suddenly made a lot more sense.

Another incident had just been added to the record of the Ash Sea, reputedly one of the most dangerous regions in the world.

The only unfortunate part was the sheer size of the place. And he was supposed to find a specific corpse in there?

Thinking of the potential workload, Fu Qian deeply regretted not trying to torture a confession out of Claudora when he had the chance.

After all, not only was the search area absurdly large, but having already navigated the Ash Sea, Fu Qian knew exactly how unpredictable it could be.

Those creatures and islands, which looked as though they were forged from bone ash, could shift from life to death in a single breath, completely altering their forms.

Searching for anything in that kind of environment would be tremendously difficult.

As for why he hadn’t asked for such crucial information back then?The answer was simple. Professor Claudora was highly principled and had clearly remained on guard.

Although Claudora was merely a projection, and Fu Qian had earned a degree of trust during their conversation, revealing an anomaly like the Crystal Blessing was practically the limit.

Getting anything more would have required a much higher level of trust. Otherwise, Claudora might have even started doubting the ”story” he had spun.

Unfortunately, there hadn’t been any more time.

”So, based on what you’re saying, the Wise Dead must refer to the members of that Academy-like institution?” Fu Qian asked. ”Though it doesn’t sound like things ended well for them.”

While Fu Qian summarized the objective difficulties, Cass didn’t waste any time and continued his analysis.

”And their choice of location was strange, too. Building a research institution in a place like that?”

Fu Qian added a thought.

”Is it possible that the institution existed before the Ash Sea became what it is today?”

...

Setting up research outposts in extreme environments to conduct special tests and observations wasn’t exactly unusual.

But moving an entire institution there was another matter entirely. One wrong move, and they risked wiping out all their knowledge and personnel in one fell swoop.

In comparison, the Academy’s approach seemed far more normal: only organizing elites for temporary expeditions and ensuring everything was kept strictly confidential.

Unless that place really was as ancient as he had just suggested.

”Impossible.” Cass shook his head with absolute certainty. ”Based on the current consensus, the Ash Sea is like any other forbidden zone—it is a product of the Long Night at the earliest.

”If we look further back to a time when Transcendent systems were entirely dominated by faith, the chances of such an institution forming were incredibly slim. Even if one had briefly emerged, its odds of surviving and developing would have been practically zero.”

Unfortunately, it seemed highly unlikely. Cass shook his head with absolute certainty.

He had a point. The advancement of knowledge had always been fraught with resistance.

Even now, Apocalypse’s research into those Bone Spirits had provoked a fierce backlash from the Linghui Courtyard.

Treating Transcendent power as a subject of scientific study in that era of absolute worship would have been undeniable blasphemy. Even just entertaining the thought would have been enough to get someone burned at the stake.

”So we have no idea why they were there?”

Agreeing with Cass’s analysis, Fu Qian pressed to confirm if there was any remaining information.

”No idea. I don’t even know if it has completely vanished by now. I couldn’t find a single trace of it.”

Cass’s response remained absolute.

”You went there?”

”I went there.”

...

He truly lived up to his title as the person in charge of Apocalypse. That unbound spirit and relentless pursuit of truth practically shined.

Shocked to hear that Cass had ventured directly into the Ash Sea himself, Fu Qian immediately bumped the difficulty index of this search operation up another notch.

Between all of his field expeditions and managing the Benevolence Society, Cass must have poured a massive amount of effort into investigating that accident, yet he had still failed to uncover a single clue.

”I imagine that when the old Dean Li told you to keep things strictly confidential, he also warned you not to do anything reckless?”

Of course, this didn’t stop Fu Qian from marveling at Cass’s sheer audacity.

”He did. Which is why I’m not even keeping it a secret right now.”

Cass’s tone was completely unapologetic.

”But even if I take over the search, if the Night Watchers catch me—or even just notice me—you might still be in a lot of trouble.”

Fu Qian reminded him.

His earlier thoughts had essentially just been confirmed.

While the Repository Plan was certainly a great idea that benefited both the courtyard and the Academy, it seemed its greater significance to Cass was to serve as an invitation.

And simply being able to recognize that invitation was an ingenious screening process in itself.

Only someone who simultaneously appreciated past failures and maintained an active interest in that old accident could parse the profound meaning behind the event and come forward.

Having hit a dead end, Cass was hoping to draw in more exploratory manpower.

Of course, even if the process was so subtle, it didn’t mean Cass could wash his hands of it if Fu Qian’s actions were discovered.

First of all, the chances of getting caught were high. In Fu Qian’s eyes, the only reason Cass hadn’t been warned for all his reckless behavior over the years was likely because he hadn’t actually found anything.

Since they had earlier deduced that the Night Watchers were highly likely to know about the situation, and Li He’s stance likely reflected their collective will, it was entirely possible that surveillance measures were in place.

If Fu Qian stumbled into them, even if he managed to conceal his identity, Cass’s Repository Plan would look glaringly obvious to anyone paying attention.

From that perspective, Cass really should have used a different method to test the waters, something a bit more low-key.

”I know, which is exactly why I did it.”

However, at Fu Qian’s reminder, Cass actually chuckled.

”If it causes trouble, it’ll make it that much easier for them to believe it was my will.”

...

What a righteous Dean.

In that moment, Fu Qian marveled silently.

Cass’s statement couldn’t have been any clearer. He had never planned on using this method to wash his hands of the situation. Quite the opposite—he was using this high profile to shoulder any potential blame.

Fu Qian had expressed curiosity about that old accident long ago, and Cass, having made little progress in his own ongoing search, clearly didn’t mind bringing in fresh blood.

At the same time, it was obvious that Cass still felt a sense of responsibility for the whole affair, choosing to deliberately paint a target on his own back in advance.

If trouble arose later, the pressure Fu Qian had to bear would be as minimal as possible.

”Then I won’t hold back,” Fu Qian said. ”So, could you share the exploration routes you’ve taken in the past?”

Even if they wouldn’t be terribly useful, Fu Qian gladly accepted the Dean’s goodwill. He even went a step further and requested detailed data.

”Heh... my methods might not work for you, especially since they haven’t proven to have any effect so far... but I can still draw you a map.”

Sure enough, Cass didn’t mind at all. He even seemed highly gratified that Fu Qian had gotten into the zone so quickly.

”That would be perfect.”

Fu Qian remained blunt. Meanwhile, an image genuinely surfaced in his mind: a starry sky and seawater.

Within the Ash Sea lay a certain set of coordinates he had never managed to reach. He wondered if they had any connection to the Inverted Lake.