Eldritch Horror Theatre

Wasn’t that a bit too chaotic?

In just a few words, Professor Ah Kai had basically outlined his entire experience.

True to expectations, the story did not disappoint. The implications behind it were absolutely fascinating.

The source of inspiration for the miracle, and even the miracle itself, seemed reasonable enough. But once paired with the final result, it became terrifying upon deeper reflection.

He should have been like The Ark, polluted by the concept of the ”sea.”

Normally, you would expect him to turn into something like a mermaid or a naga, wouldn’t you? Or at the very least, grow some tentacles and barnacles.

Instead, he had just fallen into a deep sleep, as if under general anesthesia?

It was no wonder Ah Kai felt something was wrong the more he thought about it, prompting him to rush straight over.

”Your experience proves that the miracle not only took effect but was highly successful. Yet, the way it manifested doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

Under Professor Ah Kai’s expectant gaze, Fu Qian casually voiced the doubts in the man’s heart.”Yes. I can’t understand it at all, to the point that it feels entirely wrong.”

Those who know me say that my heart is distressed. Having such a highly empathetic listener was incredibly moving, and for a moment, Ah Kai let his expression slip, no longer trying to hide his deep anxiety.

”Advancing by a strange twist of fate is certainly a pleasant surprise for me, but I’m worried there might be some unknowable, hidden danger. To myself... and perhaps to everyone else.”

...

Actually, it wasn’t that hard to understand.

Professor Ah Kai’s attitude was quite open and honest. He admitted that it felt as lucky as finding money on the street, and his subsequent worries did not seem the least bit pretentious.

As a researcher in the Ivory Tower, he was experienced and knowledgeable, and he certainly wasn’t naive.

A windfall from the sky might be sweet, but it could also be toxic.

In the transcendent world, the unknown was inherently the greatest danger—not to mention that this involved divinity.

Of course, his distress was partly due to the fact that his knowledge still had its limits.

Professor Fu, on the other hand, could vaguely understand why the miracle had ultimately turned out like that—Melia.

So far, several entities had already exhibited this inexplicable state of nonexistence.

That was right. Back when he had first been told that Professor Ah Kai was ”missing,” Fu Qian had unceremoniously started making certain connections.

For instance, Melia was missing, and it was later proven that the Fungal Emperor was missing too...

When waking Professor Ah Kai up, Fu Qian might have described his state as ”under general anesthesia.” But thinking about it carefully, if he hadn’t successfully blown Ah Kai out of there, wouldn’t the professor have effectively become ”nonexistent” to this world?

His manuscripts, his intellectual wealth, and his deeds would still remain, but his actual body would have fallen into the Well of Time, severing all meaning between him and this world.

And taking that logic a step further, didn’t that somewhat explain Master Yuhun’s previous confusion?

Melia did not exist, at any point in history.

The severity might have been far greater, but the underlying principle felt remarkably similar.

More importantly, whether it was the miracle’s source of inspiration, The Ark, or the material used in the ritual, the Mimic Mushroom—judging from the current situation, they all seemed vaguely connected.

The Ark, the docks, the homeland... connecting these previously verified elements to the Land of Melia’s Kin here at the Academy, the probability that the higher entity who built the ship was also Melia became significantly high.

Not to mention that the special miracle Nepheli used during the ”apocalypse,” Meria’s Resurrection, was strikingly similar to those pregnant men and women inside The Ark.

Combined with the visions he saw after eating the mushrooms and the results of the final test, he had drawn a bold speculation: Melia and the Fungal Emperor might be two sides of the same coin. And now, there was a third side?

After all, in Fu Qian’s understanding, the power behind Ah Kai’s miracle this time should still have pointed to the concept of the ”sea.” Yet, unexpectedly, it had resulted in a predicament similar to Melia’s?

This naturally led to one speculation: Her Excellency Melia had added yet another form.

In short, the cause of the earlier accident was precisely because, through the success of the miracle, Ah Kai had become somewhat tainted by the name Melia, causing the curse of ”not being allowed to exist” to take effect.

...

The problem was, if this hypothesis held true, Melia’s situation was simply too bizarre.

He had seen a three-in-one higher entity back in Lanphilai. Was this the reverse? One splitting into three?

Even among these three forms, there was actually some commonality—the snow tree, the mushrooms, and the seaweed all looked quite vibrant and full of life.

”Don’t worry too much. Tell me, what special significance does a boundary-breaking miracle have for the beneficent curse path?”

Ignorance was dangerous, but some knowledge could also be a curse. As Fu Qian organized the information in his mind, he was in no rush to share it. Instead, he showed interest in the transcendent path of miracles.

If it was merely the situation they just discussed, Ah Kai might not have been this worried. After all, he had secured real, tangible benefits.

Even if there was a problem with the miracle, at most it would just be classified as a forbidden art later on, preventing anyone else from using it.

For him to rush over this anxiously, he had to have an additional concern.

...

”It’s very subtle. The correlation isn’t as strong as it is over at Apocalypse, but there is definitely an impact.”

Sure enough, even though the beneficent curse path hadn’t produced a High Tier in quite some time, there were still some insights passed down regarding this exact matter.

”First of all, it won’t grant me any special abilities, nor will my physical enhancements lean in any obvious direction.”

Ah Kai held out his hands as he spoke. At a glance, there was indeed nothing like scales or bark on them.

”The inclination manifests on a purely spiritual level. According to the pioneers, during this process, one gains forbidden knowledge connected to the truth behind the miracle... But in reality, this knowledge remains abstract. To me, it’s better described as an affinity.”

”Oh? So rather than having a massive amount of knowledge poured into your head in an instant, your comprehension in certain areas is just elevated?”

Fu Qian listened earnestly, trying to fully grasp Ah Kai’s explanation.

”Exactly. Do you remember when I said that walking the path of miracles requires a talent known as spirituality?”

Clearly harboring no more doubts about Professor Fu’s professional capabilities, Ah Kai nodded, bringing up a topic they had previously discussed.

”The way this ’knowledge’ manifests isn’t by simply or crudely obtaining a bunch of facts. Instead, it just makes it easier to experience a flash of inspiration at a certain moment. This change is hard to grasp and difficult to quantify, but it appears to truly exist.”

However, even though they were discussing the exciting topic of advancing, Ah Kai’s tone remained heavy.

”But you’re worried this situation might bring about negative effects? Even dragging in the people around you?”

Professor Fu was always so pragmatic; as he pondered, he didn’t even attempt to offer any blind comfort.

”Yes... it is indeed a concerning issue.”