Eldritch Horror Theatre

Skipping straight to the ritual scene?

A scene of such profound, timeless devotion was an absolute classic.

Not only did Fu Qian instantly realize he had arrived at a sacred wedding, but he also confirmed the identity of Camera Position 6 this time: a member of the priestly order.

It wasn’t surprising at all. The floor beneath his feet looked exactly like a classic altar, and it would be stranger if the Laria Family weren’t involved in some kind of faith.

It was true that in the Bookstore World, faith in higher entities had gradually waned since the end of the Mythological Era, but that only applied to ordinary people.

One couldn’t forget the nature of this Divine Human Family’s abilities. As long as they grew the right face at the right moment, they could leap straight from mere mortals to wielding Divine-Human Power without doing a thing.

Even back in the Mythological Era, that kind of privilege would have clearly ranked among the absolute top tier. They had every reason to be superstitious.

All in all, judging from the few glimpses he had gotten, the religious atmosphere inside Ehm Palace had always seemed incredibly thick.

At the same time, it differed from traditional churches and temples. Not only were there no divine statues or idols, but even after studying it for this long, Fu Qian still didn’t know what they called the object of their faith.

Even the intelligence provided by the Night Watchers lacked any mention of it.”I have never doubted my choice. You are the one for me.”

In the lingering echoes of a bell, a familiar voice rang out.

The bride, who ordinarily should have been a bit more reserved, stared at her husband and spoke first, firmly and boldly expressing her feelings.

This obviously caught the onlookers by surprise. The priests could more or less maintain their composure, but more than one female guest in the front row had already lost every trace of a smile.

Such as a certain someone in a familiar burgundy dress.

Her makeup was slightly smudged, but at a glance, she was undeniably young, her radiance in no way inferior to the bride’s...

Most importantly, this woman had indeed been seated in the front row, giving her the closest possible view of everything happening on the altar—and right now, her gaze was as sharp as a knife.

”...Thank you.”

Actually, it wasn’t just the audience. Even the groom seemed somewhat stunned.

Old Man Ji remained silent for a breath before offering an overly polite response.

Of course, any reaction at a time like this could be easily over-interpreted.

His delayed reply could easily be understood as solemn reverence for the vow.

That, moved by his future wife’s words, he chose not to recite cliché platitudes, but instead used the plainest language to express how deeply he valued her love...

”Very good.”

His Excellency Jose, for example, looked quite satisfied. He finally stood up from his seat in the back, drawing the entire room’s attention with a casual word of praise.

Including the newlyweds.

”Don Juan” let go of his new bride’s hand, turned to look at his father, took a step forward, and dropped to one knee.

...

The Old Man was really making quite a sacrifice for this mission.

This was considered a perfectly normal scene for this kind of ritual.

But in that moment, as a spectator, Fu Qian couldn’t help but marvel at his senior’s professionalism.

First, he had transformed into a Casanova, tirelessly engaging in soul-deep connections and even offering up his own flesh.

And now, he cast aside his dignity entirely, readily playing along with such a humble gesture.

This alone seemed to prove that they had truly reached the core of the ceremony—not the wedding ceremony, but a transcendent ritual with ulterior motives.

Yes, to Fu Qian, the probability that the scene before him was a deliberately orchestrated ritual was growing larger by the second.

On one hand, the various elements had all come together, pushing the atmosphere of the entire Ehm Palace to an absolute climax.

On the other hand, the preparations Old Man Ji had spent so much effort on were entirely focused on a group of completely harmless female guests.

Aside from playing a specific role in a ritual, it was hard to imagine their delicate claws posing any threat to His Excellency Jose.

So what kind of ritual was it exactly?

At that moment, Fu Qian’s imagination was already running wild.

”Remember your identity, my son.”

His Excellency Jose didn’t keep them waiting long. He looked down at the young man kneeling before him, and after a moment, signaled him with a look to stand up.

Once Don Juan stood and adjusted his sash, Jose placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke a rather strange phrase.

”White is the first color, and the White King is the king of all.”

...

It seemed he had just heard an interesting title.

For His Excellency Jose to personally preside over the final stage seemed perfectly normal to Fu Qian.

As noted earlier, the Laria Royal Court could no longer be described as a simple theocracy.

Who could better represent the symbol of their faith in the mortal world than Jose, who wielded the Face of Gods and Men?

Whether it was the Priestess ringing the Handbell earlier, or a background participant like himself, they were essentially just there to build the atmosphere.

Because of this, Fu Qian had been looking forward to seeing how His Excellency Jose would perform this entire time.

The result truly didn’t disappoint. The man had actually opened his mouth and dropped a title, one that the Night Watchers had seemingly buried on purpose.

White King?

It sounded pure and sacred right off the bat. Was this what they called the bestower of their divine bloodline?

To be honest, it didn’t sound like it was closely related to the Dark Moon.

”It is one, and also ten thousand; it is an indescribable purity, and also the Holy Spirit of a Thousand Faces.”

While Fu Qian was privately evaluating this, His Excellency Jose didn’t keep anyone in suspense; he was already continuing his speech.

And this sounded even less related to the Dark Moon.

The Holy Spirit of a Thousand Faces?

Fu Qian noted that the Laria Family seemed quite ambitious. Did they believe the Face of Gods and Men currently worn by Jose was merely one kind of boon from the White King?

With this, even the scope of the First Generation Dark Moon had been overshadowed.

Aside from this, Jose’s demeanor was far more solemn than expected, giving off a distinct sense of abnormality.

Was he influenced by the atmosphere of the ritual, moved by the newlyweds’ vows?

This was indeed a very common explanation, and it sounded reasonable enough.

But that only applied to ordinary people. Even setting aside the fact that he was a High-Tier Transcendent, how many powerful nobles in his position would have their emotions so easily swayed?

It seemed Old Man Ji’s operational plan was truly prepared for this. In this moment, His Excellency Jose indeed seemed a bit different.

”You are mistaken. I am not your son.”

And in the very next moment, an even more explosive response arrived.

Faced with his old father’s earnest teachings, ”Don Juan’s” expression suddenly smoothed into serenity. His words sounded like a direct confession, and his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear.

”I am only the version of yourself that you imagined.”

And amid the dead silence in the hall, he completely ignored his ”father’s” expression. He turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the crowd one by one—especially the beautiful faces of the Madams—as if he had finally mustered his courage.