Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 1327: Chapter 1325: Going to the Meeting

The “Lady of the Holy Hall” mentioned her old friend—not the elegant Bloodline Clan member, but rather Orintel.

Clearly, there had already been a consensus within the Sanctuary regarding speculations about Fu Qian’s identity.

Their previous reactions only solidified this understanding.

The final result was that Fu Qian was to be taken to the West District Church.

This was also why Fu Qian didn’t want to waste any more time.

The Dark Moon pushing time forward to nightfall signaled that the Vampire Clan gathering was about to commence.

Judging by their usual demeanor, Fu Qian was confident that they wouldn’t cancel it.

…

The Sect would obviously never let Fu Qian walk free, and any suggestion of inviting him into the Sanctuary was a mere fairytale.

Given the circumstances, the only action they would take was to keep him under control, ensure that news of the earlier scene didn’t leak, and make him the most important “test subject” for their investigations, uncovering his true nature.

For example, determining whether Herbert was his disguise.

And the Sect’s best chance of proving Fu Qian and Herbert were the same person naturally lay in Orintel, who had interacted with Fu Qian twice.

Orintel happened to be in the West District Church.

Thus, as long as Fu Qian maintained an ambiguous stance regarding his identity, coupled with the favorable groundwork laid by Herbert’s previous exploits, it was highly likely that he would be sent to the gathering venue.

Let it proceed smoothly, in mutual harmony.

…

As it turned out, the Sect cooperated as expected.

“Are we leaving now?”

Ignoring the Lady of the Holy Hall, Fu Qian looked at Feivel, once again demonstrating a top-notch enthusiasm for delivering himself into their hands.

“…Let us depart.”

It was evident that Feivel felt fairly confident in his judgment, though Fu Qian’s aggressively proactive attitude verged on overkill.

Even so, he hesitated only briefly before making a decision—and not without glancing at Praut.

“How are you feeling? Can you move?”

“Not too bad, but if anything happens on the way, I won’t be of much help.”

After resting for a while, Praut appeared to be recovering slightly from his breakdown, which had been triggered by the “Angel Envoy.” He nodded and stood, his demeanor somewhat less despondent.

“You’ve already done more than enough.”

Feivel gestured for Praut to rest, then pointed toward the plaza.

“Take the people outside along with us. We need time to process everything we’ve gained during this period—and as for the final scene just now…”

Scanning the group, he deliberately avoided mentioning the Dark Moon by name.

“Absolute secrecy—every single one of you.”

…

After Feivel’s orders had sunk in, the group commenced their preparations with remarkable efficiency.

As for Harriet and the others—who turned out to be exactly as expected—they had been specially brought here as test subjects.

Even now, they remained in a state resembling confinement, their consciousnesses foggy and pliable.

Meanwhile, as the direct cause of the project’s suspension, Fu Qian naturally attracted exaggerated amounts of attention.

Not only had the three-person squad from earlier shifted their focus accordingly, but even Feivel and the Lady of the Holy Hall lingered nearby, watching him like hawks.

None of them, unsurprisingly, attempted to engage Fu Qian directly.

Having had repeated experiences of defiling faith, Fu Qian naturally understood the subtleties of the situation. He cooperatively positioned himself once again at the center of their group.

And once the ruins of the small town were engulfed entirely by thick fog behind them, he overheard the journey’s most significant contributor, Lord Praut, release an uncontrollable and sorrowful sigh.

Judging by the current circumstances, it was very likely that this Sanctuary member truly received gifts unique to a Hunter.

After all, given such an exceptionally elite lineup, the fact that their mental states had been pushed to the brink of collapse yet refused to replace the Nightmare did indicate Praut’s leading role.

Only a Praut-directed Nightmare could possess Insight of such caliber.

The signs of mutation in his body further corroborated this.

His retreat into this small town, given his venerable status, suddenly made far more sense.

The level of pollution here was noticeably lower than in the more populated Leytin, its toxicity not even comparable. Staying in Leytin might have amplified his suffering due to his overly sensitive condition.

But the idyllic refuge had, in the blink of an eye, become unrecognizable.

…

“It really turned into night!”

Perhaps because Fu Qian’s methods of slaughter within the Nightmare had been excessively brutal, their return journey encountered no obstacles whatsoever—surprisingly smooth.

So much so that the first person to speak did so only after emerging from the fog, stepping onto the route heading directly toward Leytin.

Except the typically pristine thoroughfare was now illuminated solely by scattered starlight.

For the first time on their way back, the Lady of the Holy Hall, who had been suppressing herself throughout, could not conceal her astonishment at the scene before her. Despite her shock, she resisted any urge to glance at the “Dark Moon Apostle.”

Whatever fleeting hope had accompanied their escape from the fog was once again ruthlessly shattered. She had no intention of giving the madman an opportunity to savor her reaction.

…

Such was the terror of the Dark Moon, its power overwhelming.

Of course, Fu Qian, with his characteristic self-assuredness, showed no intention of paying her emotions any mind.

Studying the night sky to estimate the time, he expressed no joy that his claims had been validated.

The Dark Moon not only existed—it continued to exert this extraordinary influence. From the Witch’s perspective, its essence posed an even greater calamity.

Even with such effects, no further information emerged. The likelihood of absence became unmistakably higher.

The array of grim discoveries marked a journey rife with gains—but solely of the discouraging kind.

“We need to return to Leytin as soon as possible to prevent unnecessary turmoil.”

The air among the Exploration Team was no less tense, their mood somber. Only Feivel responded to the Lady of the Holy Hall’s reflection amid the silence.

And his concerns, unsurprisingly, were valid.

Nightmares, dense fog, the reversal of day and night—the residents of Leytin had gone through an extraordinary ordeal during this period. It was only natural for their minds to be shaken.

Even seasoned experts were no exception.

Fu Qian finally withdrew his gaze, fixing it upon Amila.

“Self-doubt is always the first step toward sublimation—and the most painful step.”

His voice was deep and smooth, oozing the aura of a cult fanatic.

“What encourages me most during this trip is seeing lambs begin to falter in their steps.”

“…Are you trying to manipulate me?”

Yet Amila did not seem easily swayed. Following a brief shock, she steadied herself amidst the scrutinizing gazes around her and replied firmly.

“I admit that many incomprehensible events have occurred—along with the turmoil they’ve caused. But I am absolutely certain that I harbor no doubt whatsoever about what’s unfolding before me. To me, it is the purest reality.”

“Manipulation? Using that term shows you’ve yet to grasp the essence of what it means to be a ‘Herder.ʼ”

Fu Qian chuckled softly, showing no trace of irritation.

“Consider it a simple compliment, followed by a small request—please drop by the art gallery for me and ask for extended leave. It seems I won’t be returning to work anytime soon.”

“…Since this morning, the gallery has been indefinitely closed, forbidding anyone to enter or exit.”

A profound silence descended upon the group. Amid this stillness, Amila’s face contorted briefly before she reluctantly agreed to carry out the assignment.