Eldritch Horror Theatre

The Red Moon’s condition looked grim.

Aside from the triple-digit Seranas, this was the first element found here with a direct tie to the Red Moon.

And compared to the Seranas, this served as strong proof that the Red Moon also had a deep connection to the dreamscape.

She really had been here the whole time, and she really had been pretending not to be.

Fu Qian didn’t take the pupa’s twitching at face value, because he believed the Red Moon was watching him right back.

Or rather, being forced to watch him.

As he had guessed earlier, leaving any trace in a dream like this was likely agonizing for the Red Moon.

So even a disguise of pure self-deception probably made her feel a little better.

Yet he had ripped that disguise apart and proven the Red Moon’s presence, delivering a minor shock to her mind that ultimately showed in the pupa’s shuddering.

Beyond having each of his earlier guesses confirmed, there was another reason things looked grim: apart from that shudder, there was no other movement at all.No matter how rebellious a ”child” acted or how much he defied his mother’s wishes, the intent behind his actions should still have been understandable.

Yet even with nearly face-to-face contact established, the Red Moon seemed powerless to convey a single message. Or to put it another way, she was barely holding on against the corruption, spending every ounce of her strength just to maintain this defensive posture.

Saying a single word to express anything might bring the whole situation crashing down.

All in all, to Fu Qian, this silent scene spoke of a dire reality, which was why he had offered a few words of comfort.

As for his claim that ”everything was under control,” the true situation obviously wasn’t that bright.

Still, wasn’t it tradition for someone called a ”child” to report only the good news and hold back the bad?

”Good.”

Five seconds passed in the blink of an eye. Receiving no reply, Fu Qian nodded and didn’t press her to do anything further.

”I’ll step away for a moment. Please keep holding on.”

He stood up on the last word.

With that movement, sure enough, the three-legged communion chalice was once again completely empty.

...

Not bad at all. At first glance, all that effort seemed to have come to nothing, yet Fu Qian was quite pleased with this brief interlude.

More often than not, a dire situation was far better than an unclear one.

One of the main points of that whole maneuver had been to confirm the Red Moon’s current state.

Frankly, his earlier worries seemed to be proving true—the Red Moon very likely wouldn’t last until the next Burial Scroll.

Even bad news like that carried real value, though, such as when choosing what methods to use next.

Because the situation was bad enough, he could now commit to certain high-risk moves.

That gave him a clear sense of how far to push; without it, he would fall into the classic trap of overplanning and underacting.

Beyond that, the disappearance of the chalice’s contents the moment he stood up further confirmed his earlier theory about the true nature of this dreamscape.

Concepts were pieced together like building blocks in a way that defied intuition.

From the moment he first stepped into this place until now, the whole thing had unquestionably been a continuous process of research.

Perhaps even without those bold hypotheses and careful verifications earlier, there would still have been some chance of finding this place...

Including spotting a chair beside a long table like this and having some chance of sitting down to try it out... which in turn would have given him a decent chance of discovering the extra Seed of Writhing.

Even if someone saw a scene like this with their own eyes, though, there were still far too many possible explanations.

Some things had to be viewed through a theoretical foundation before their underlying meaning could truly be sorted out.

Now, it was time to take the results of this research and tackle the practical problems.

Without wandering off anywhere else, Fu Qian quickly doubled back and returned to the nave of the church.

And under the gazes of more and more Seranas, he gave a light leap toward the dome above.

...

Clearly, no expense had been spared when this place was built.

To project the majesty of a deity, the church’s dome had been built to an impressive height.

Landing squarely on the narrow maintenance catwalk, Fu Qian marveled for a moment at the sheer depth of Serana’s pockets.

Meanwhile, the spot where the three flowers converged at the crown was right in front of him—the thorny vines were close enough to touch if he just reached out.

Looking up from this close, he could see clearly that Serana hadn’t lied. The rose vines hadn’t pierced through from the outside; on the contrary, their thick, gnarled roots blended into the dome’s design with an almost unnatural harmony.

Because the whole ceiling was washed in blood-red, the details of the fresco were hard to make out.

Still, it was easy to spot more than one painted line merging seamlessly into the base of the roots, vividly demonstrating what it meant to degenerate into two dimensions.

More exaggerated still, those lines were growing sharper bit by bit—

”You’re trying to complete it?”

Watching the Seranas at work in front of him, Fu Qian asked casually to confirm.

Indeed, there was a heavy artificial element behind those lines growing clearer.

With wing membranes fluttering, three Seranas hovered in midair, using their sharp fingertips to trace marks across the dome like diligent craftsmen applying paint.

Setting aside their actual artistic merit, it was easy enough for Fu Qian to tell that they were trying to render the rose vine’s root system onto that flat surface.

”Yes.”

Toward this Night Demon and his secretive movements, Serana’s feelings were plainly complicated.

Still, since the initial suggestion had come from him, she didn’t completely ignore his overly familiar question.

Her reply was extremely brief, of course, and the three of her doing the work didn’t pause for a second; instead, one of the peanut gallery standing nearby spoke up on their behalf.

And there were plenty more standing around in that peanut gallery.

After their earlier attempts hit a wall, this spot where the three flowers converged had become the center of attention.

The narrow catwalk underfoot had probably never been this crowded, and Fu Qian had practically had to squeeze his way in just to get a spot.

”Not bad.”

Though the cramped space rivaled a holiday travel rush, Fu Qian didn’t mind at all; in fact, he had high praise for Serana’s approach.

And he wasn’t being sarcastic, either. While the maneuver wasn’t terribly creative, it clearly showed an attempt at lateral thinking.

Rather than limiting herself to searching the painting, she was drawing on it with her own hands to see if she could bluff some kind of reaction out of it.

Judging by how things looked right now, though, the effort hadn’t yielded any surprises yet.

”And what’s this over here—personal immersion?”

Having that kind of drive was a good thing, so Fu Qian wasn’t in a hurry to dampen her enthusiasm and instead turned to look at the other side. It was also near where the three flowers converged, but unlike the hesitant lines being sketched out, a dark red mark over there was much clearer.

At a glance, a slender, twisted figure seemed to be sprawled flat across the dome—and it really was a human figure.

Although he hadn’t seen it happen, Fu Qian had kept count on his way over: the number of Seranas hadn’t just stopped growing, it had actually dropped by one.

This lady really was the ruthless, taciturn type. Aside from her earlier efforts, it looked like she had actually tried to smash one of her own selves flat and press her straight into the painting.