Eldritch Horror Theatre

The bones were still warm.

Leaping lightly back to his original spot, he didn’t even need to touch the surface to feel the residual warmth radiating from where Nepheli had sat.

It was indeed a human skeleton, though somewhat incomplete.

Furthermore, judging by how the bones were stacked, he could faintly tell that her posture here was much more solemn than the knee-hugging stance he had seen in the Etched Intellect.

Knowing her style, even with what she had sought for years right before her eyes, she wouldn’t have assumed such a childish pose in front of him.

Yet the skull—the only relatively intact piece—felt far more distorted.

It was as if the brain inside had swelled from the heat, pushing the intracranial pressure to an unbearable point and ultimately warping the entire structure.

Of course, there were no dancing flames left on the remains. The fire merely flowed across the surface and deep within, explaining the ”sparkling” impression it gave off.

Perhaps the historical fallacy he had just experienced wasn’t completely reliable, but there was a high probability that these were indeed Nepheli’s remains.

Hearing the Dao in the morning... From the moment she discovered this place, she had likely been exploring how to use it to verify the truth of the world.No matter the price.

And in the end, true to the saying that one could die without regret in the evening, she had been reduced to a pile of white bones here.

As for why Moore was so lively today, the entire sequence of events now seemed perfectly clear—

Nepheli had asked him for a wisp of the Flame of Frenzy to ignite herself.

Even acting merely as a reflection, the Wise Dead could barely withstand it, causing the entity as a whole to become far more active than before.

This surge in activity triggered reactions from all sides. That included Sorndir, who viewed the anomaly in Moore as a personal opportunity, and Siren, who was similarly spurred into action.

These changes subsequently drew a reaction from Anjing, leading to the Greed Worms being brought in as outsourced cannon fodder.

In turn, the Greed Worms’ tracks attracted predators.

Unfortunately, because Sorndir failed to make any progress, the entire chain of events deadlocked here.

The bugs made no move, and the bats couldn’t find the bugs.

It wasn’t until someone stealthily hitched a ride that everything was suddenly set into motion.

...

People hustle and bustle driven by profit and ambition. He could only say that Excellency Sorndir seemed to be quite a ruthless character.

Having quickly sorted out the current situation, Fu Qian let out an entirely different kind of sigh.

It wasn’t because of the man’s astonishing extravagance in having a whole group accompany him to level up, but rather his sheer boldness in pulling chestnuts from the fire.

The series of events seemed flawlessly logical, but it ignored one crucial detail: the timeline.

Fu Qian remembered clearly that Nepheli had asked him for the Flame of Frenzy only a few days ago.

Yet, according to Serana and the bugs, Sorndir’s wandering expedition had begun much earlier than that.

That point alone was enough to pull the firewood from under the cauldron, completely dismantling the logical chain.

Was it possible that this chain of events hadn’t actually started with Nepheli’s quest for the truth?

That meant Sorndir had likely brute-forced his expedition even before the Wise Dead had grown active—before any real opportunity to advance had presented itself.

He had been the initial driving force. It just so happened that his luck was excellent, and he had subsequently benefited from Excellency Nepheli’s actions.

As for why he had insisted on making the attempt at such a specific time, even without finding a proper opening?

The reason was hard to pinpoint, but taking such a stubborn risk was far more extreme than merely acting on a presented opportunity.

Then again, regardless of how stubborn he was, the time he had bought himself was now less than five minutes.

Amid his musings, Fu Qian’s gaze carefully swept over Nepheli’s remains once more.

Unfortunately, other than indicating that the fire wouldn’t burn much longer and that the Wise Dead would likely quiet down soon, the senior clearly had no intention of compiling her life’s knowledge into a secret manual. She hadn’t left behind any other information.

It made sense. As he had noted earlier, to Nepheli, everything before her might just have been an illusion.

Aside from the all-saving Dayun Mingwang, who would be bored enough to leave a message for an NPC that could vanish at any moment?

It was a shame. He had plenty of technical questions he still wanted to discuss with this senior.

He could only hope she had truly found her answers; at least that would make his regret worthwhile.

As for now, it looked like he was on his own.

Finally tearing his gaze away, Fu Qian took a couple of steps forward and sat upright right beside the skeleton, gazing into the distance.

...

Let’s go over this from the beginning.

Years ago, the Academy’s exploration team had received concrete information: the Wise Dead in Moore could guide them to the Inverted Lake—which was highly likely located in the Ash Sea—and might even know how to utilize it.

Unfortunately, despite knowing this, they never found it. Years later, their junior, Nepheli, did find it, but by then she no longer cared to know.

Setting those regrets aside for now, assuming such a connection really did exist, how would it work?

The answer was hard to determine. He had to look at the facts.

Changing his line of thought, why did this connection exist in the first place?

Over by the Inverted Lake, the exploration team had allegedly discovered an ancient research organization, ending up cursed because of whatever that group had been studying.

And not long ago, while exploring the coordinates in the Ash Sea, he had encountered a research organization inside the Etched Intellect as well.

Even Nepheli, when asking for the fire, had asked him if it was possible that the Academy wasn’t the only organization courting death. She clearly knew something.

Putting these three points together: suppose there really was another Academy out there, one connected to this so-called Inverted Lake, that had established a research facility deep within the Ash Sea—a place that all living beings avoided.

If so, why would a death-attribute miraculous creature—one containing the means to find that very research facility—be located all the way out in Moore?

Rather than chalking it up to a coincidental overlap in supernatural properties, he smelled a heavy dose of human intervention. Was it really just left here to point the way?

At that moment, Fu Qian turned his head to look at the Lighthouse behind him.

...

As expected, his line of thinking needed to return to simplicity and true nature.

Wasn’t a lighthouse the ultimate, classic symbol of guidance?

They wouldn’t have needed to deliberately construct it from scratch or refine a miraculous creature for it.

Just like Nepheli, the researchers from back then could have simply discovered the Wise Dead and brainstormed how to put it to use. It was an entirely plausible progression.

In fact, if he wasn’t mistaken—

Fu Qian stood up, stepping directly into the lamp room to observe the Lighthouse’s core.

It really was there...

For a purely symbolic structure, wasn’t the lens portion of the Lighthouse recreated a bit too exquisitely? It defied common sense.

Indeed, what Fu Qian had realized was quite simple: a functional lighthouse required other key components beyond just a light source.

A lens made of transparent material... even if it didn’t look like the crystal he was used to.

Reaching out, Fu Qian didn’t rush to crush the object to see if it contained what he was imagining.

Instead, a brilliant, endless stream of golden light surged from his body.