Eldritch Horror Theatre

It had completely ignored the cross-dimensional effects of the Blood Crusade, showing no hint of its presence before revealing itself.

The exact moment he hid inside the Safe House, he was stabbed right in the back. The element of surprise was pushed to its absolute limit. Its combat awareness was truly top-tier.

And so was its savory scent.

Despite the sudden ambush and the violent counterattack, his train of thought wasn’t disrupted in the slightest.

Fu Qian was never one to casually belittle his opponents. Instead, he observed carefully, evaluated objectively, and then belittled them with well-founded reasoning.

Take the Greatsword that had nearly chopped him in half, for instance. Its design was fierce and sharp, entirely devoid of bloat, as if a normal blade had simply been scaled up proportionally. The figure holding it gave off a similar impression.

It possessed a body even taller than his own incarnation as the King of the Abandoned Prison, coupled with a grotesquely bizarre appearance.

It had human proportions and a human face, but lacked eyeballs.

Two deep holes stretched all the way into its brain, revealing densely tangled threads inside. Its exterior was exactly the same.

Indeed, it was rougher and more unrefined than any form he had ever seen. Inside and out, it was composed entirely of fungal hyphae, merely tangled into the silhouette of a person.Its exterior lacked any color entirely, retaining an unreal, grayish-white hue.

It no longer matched the art style of its surroundings. Even the sword it held was relatively shinier; at a glance, the creature looked like it was missing its textures.

But as everyone knew, the more ancient and natural something looked, the more likely it was to be a true master.

For example, because its appearance was so exceedingly primitive, its ”body odor” was incredibly rich. Among the numerous scents he had smelled along the way, nothing surpassed its delicious umami fragrance.

Furthermore, another stark contrast right in front of him was that his own, much more exaggerated-looking tentacles had been sliced off cleanly in a single exchange.

Coupled with their endless regeneration, a single glance made it look like a field of crops being relentlessly harvested.

...

A higher entity of the sword path, but a fungal version... It really was a pretty good idea.

Amidst this brutal scene of sliced flesh, Fu Qian rapidly reached his observational conclusion and raised his evaluation of this trip’s opponent by another notch.

Because of his previous experience dealing with the Akons, he had already analyzed the opponent’s methods the moment he realized they were most likely enemies rather than friends.

Setting aside that nearly flawless banishment, just the move of ”spectating” alone was outrageously strong.

The true reappearance of an ancient higher entity was far more exaggerated than that Lantern of his.

Always overestimating his enemies to be safe, Fu Qian had never pinned his hopes on them having a time limit like the Lantern did.

However, there was one limitation that could be gleaned from his time with the Akons—these higher entity powers had no concept of teammates, and they would conflict with one another.

So, on a more optimistic note, it was unlikely that he would face a scenario where several higher entities ganged up on the King of the Abandoned Prison.

But reality proved that ”Master Yuhun” truly lived up to being the pinnacle of imagination. What stood before him was clearly a clever way to bypass that restriction.

He wasn’t sure what the exact authority of the Fungal Emperor was, but it seemed related to parasitism and restructuring.

Through the Mycelium Sword Saint before him, this power of the sword path perfectly integrated into the current battlefield as a puppet, thereby achieving a two-on-one situation.

Besides, frankly speaking, even if they had encountered it outside under normal circumstances, dealing with just the Sword Saint alone would be far from easy.

Even as a corrupted puppet, the oppressive pressure it gave off wasn’t one bit weaker than what Yasui Tokiyuki had exuded back then.

Although its speed wasn’t exaggerated to the point where he couldn’t react, and its form of destruction wasn’t even as ruthless as the vaporization in the Sword Pavilion...

...while giving up on letting his tentacles be endlessly harvested and switching to close-quarters combat instead, Fu Qian discovered something special.

Squelch—

As his punch landed, paired with the Calamity Curse he had anchored earlier, he successfully hit the target.

However, the actual outcome was that his own chest caved in instead.

At the same time, his only remaining arm had almost half its flesh and bone shaved off by the opponent’s sword.

The damage to his fundamental self wasn’t severe enough to leave him completely armless, but a certain special change occurred along with the opponent’s strike—a forced demolition.

This specifically referred to the Transcendent Architecture Theory he had summarized earlier.

Namely, regardless of how high or low one’s Rank was, everyone’s transcendent essence corresponded to different styles and types of ”architecture.”

Getting injured, or even suffering damage to the fundamental self, would at most cause this building to take damage, which could slowly be recovered or patched up later.

Being corrupted or losing control was far more severe, akin to the foundation sinking, walls cracking, and the place becoming infested with rats—but right now, the building was undergoing a direct, violent demolition.

That was exactly how it felt. As that sword fell, it was as if someone were yanking the steel rebar and tearing down the support beams straight out of the house.

What was shaken was the most essential thing: the ”False God” form itself.

If someone with a lower Rank had taken this sword strike, they would have probably instantly disintegrated into a pile of raw materials.

Even his current self distinctly felt the pressure in that moment.

Was this the ultimate manifestation of the sword path? If so, he had to admit, it was rather fascinating.

Amidst his admiration, facing an opponent so fast that he didn’t even have time to unleash a Visceral Attack, a bloody line rapidly condensed on the enemy’s body.

The Thread of Attachment activated, and the Mycelium Sword Saint was yanked right back.

Unsurprisingly, it delivered another house-demolishing sword strike, piercing completely through his already injured chest.

But his five fingers, transformed into sharp claws, also pierced directly into the opponent’s waist.

Squelch—

A messy cluster of crushed flesh and bone immediately spewed out from Fu Qian’s lower back.

...

Damage Transfer. Even the Pseudo-God Incarnation that he had activated in advance couldn’t grant him immunity to it.

Fu Qian wasn’t in a hurry to tend to his wounds; he merely drew a silent conclusion.

It really was a deliberate and calculated plot, vowing to slay the inner demon.

He had always been on guard against the Fungal Emperor’s Damage Transfer method, though he just hadn’t been entirely sure if it could work on the ”Sword Saint.”

After all, normally speaking, even if two higher entities worked together to slay an evil god, their powers might not blend so harmoniously.

On the contrary, it was precisely this method of using a main body and a puppet that allowed this unbelievable authority to perfectly aid the exorcist in front of him—or rather, these two exorcists.

Within the mist of blood, that exceptionally glaring grayish-white figure unexpectedly didn’t pursue him in that moment, but instead pulled back to create some distance.

It brought its hands together and raised its weapon high.

It wasn’t executing some long-range sword technique. Instead, in the very next second, its hands pulled outward to the sides, and the fiercely designed Greatsword was split into two.

Its body was as well.

This astonishing scene was completed in an instant. However, both the figures and the swords had obvious differences from the original.

They weren’t one-to-one replicas; one could even tell that they were a man and a woman.

’Flirtatious Glance Sword Technique, is it? Nice to meet you.’

While praising it inwardly, Fu Qian could clearly feel that the turbulence from their brief clash was rippling outward, awakening a certain terrifying will.

Any slightly intense movement could accelerate this process—’Fine by me.’

With a snap of his fingers, Fu Qian directly canceled the Blood Crusade.

Fighting elites was exactly what he was here for.