Eldritch Horror Theatre

Rousing the deaf, its echoes lingering, bringing sudden enlightenment and the sensation of ascending on the spot...

A truly wonderful feeling. It was as if his brain had turned to dough—wantonly pulled, kneaded, and smoothed of its wrinkles. Continuous bubbles even rose within it, turning everything into a three-dimensional honeycomb...

His own bootleg version really had been far too crude. How could the true gospel be described as a mere Mental Shock?

If the Seed of Ecstasy they’d encountered before was a switch for depravity—planting a Blood-Sucking Vine deep within his willpower—then the gospel he was listening to now was the complete opposite extreme.

Wisdom, knowledge, mystery... It was unreadable and indescribable, but evidently a similar concept. It was infused directly into his sense of self to help him ”become a better version of himself.”

The shock definitely existed, but as the saying goes: destruction precedes creation. It was a heavy hammer shattering his shackles, a bright mirror reflecting his true self.

Only then could one realize what their true self was—and thereby realize the warm embrace of Mother.

That was right; everything was so natural.

Despite withstanding the scouring of the raging waves and experiencing a blessing in disguise by gaining a deeper understanding of his own essence, what followed was a sense of intimacy toward the source of those very waves.

It was absolutely not simple misdirection.Experiencing all this entirely in his capacity as the King of the Abandoned Prison—even though the other party’s oppressive force was more exaggerated than the Fungal Emperor’s—Fu Qian was absolutely certain he hadn’t suffered any hidden corruption. His sense of self remained fairly intact.

That was a true, irrefutable fact.

It was like teaching you how to read, then placing a paternity test right in front of you.

Even if he could resist the urge to return to that embrace, this awareness was difficult to erase. It was an eternal calling.

...

This thing... was somewhat formidable.

The mother of all transcendents? That seemed a bit exaggerated.

But there was indeed no fault to be found in this sensation, even from the perspective of the King of the Abandoned Prison.

From that source, he could sense more than one point of resonance with his own essence. If he responded to the call and embraced it, it felt like he really could become a more sublimated version of himself.

What kind of authority was this? Being a mother to all things?

Fu Qian certainly didn’t believe he was actually birthed by this thing. After all, he was currently wearing the Skin of the King of the Abandoned Prison.

But was the King of the Abandoned Prison birthed by it?

That seemed impossible to completely deny.

After all, in the ”mythological tales” he’d heard from Veil earlier, there really did seem to be a chronological order to the appearance of higher entities.

In that case, the idea that all transcendent beings shared a single source of reproduction didn’t sound entirely impossible.

But an inability to deny it didn’t mean he had to accept it.

The ancient Tyrant, the King of the Abandoned Prison—no matter how he looked at the Skin he was wearing, it clearly represented the absolute pinnacle of a path to godhood, complete with fully intact power and authority.

When a financially independent adult child was called back home, the motive was hard not to find suspicious.

Especially since he’d already witnessed quite a few of this ”Mother’s” methods.

She was clearly not someone who would just chat and laugh amiably. If he weren’t in the form of the King of the Abandoned Prison, there was a high probability that the moment he heard this gospel, returning home wouldn’t have been up to him.

There was even a victim lying far away in the Unseen Hill.

Furthermore, the ever-changing and pervasive nature of ”Her” power seemed to be explained as well.

Some of those methods were likely brought back by the transcendents who had returned to Her embrace.

For example, how Meria’s Miracle had become a breach She could exploit—

As if to prove Fu Qian’s theory, a uniquely shaped giant palm slapped toward him from behind at that exact moment.

It bristled with ferocious bone spurs and dripped with fresh blood, its surface covered in rings of mysterious patterns.

Although he was enduring a terrifying shock, it was still very difficult for such a method to successfully ambush Fu Qian.

Not only did he easily register the shape of the murder weapon, he even knew the attacker was the very Demigod who had been traveling alongside him.

No wonder they’d been so aligned on this journey. This method was extremely flesh-oriented, which perfectly fit the tenets of Apocalypse.

Although the Benevolent Curse Institute was rather overbearing in this world, Apocalypse certainly hadn’t ruined its own reputation.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that the body behind the giant arm was equally hideous, and the divine patterns representing a Mythical Form covered it entirely.

...

A complete Mythical Form? As expected, the enlightenment wasn’t just empty talk.

Wham!

Before the giant arm could connect, Fu Qian struck first despite moving later. He swatted the deformed body away with a single slap, shattering it into pieces while it was still mid-air.

The fragments proved extremely tenacious. Tugging at one another, they struggled desperately to piece themselves back together.

Although they ultimately failed, no strange, non-flesh-like things popped out from within.

”The converted version really is different...”

While evaluating the tactile feedback of the blow, Fu Qian did not skimp on his praise.

Old Man Logan had once taught him that even for a High-Tier Transcendent, a Mythical Form wasn’t so easy to control.

Especially for a Demigod, being able to perform partial transformations was already considered a rare feat.

Yet this suspected elite of the Apocalypse Branch had pulled out a one-hundred-percent complete form without even blinking?

Rather than simply chalking it up to unrivaled natural talent, Fu Qian was more inclined to believe it was the extra enlightenment gained from hearing the gospel.

His earlier sensation had been correct: returning to Mother’s embrace truly would make one a better version of themselves.

Beyond that, from beginning to end, that Apocalypse Demigod hadn’t displayed any classic forms of power like dark flames.

If he went outside, he would undoubtedly still be treated as a flesh-system combatant.

For those affected by Her authority, the Mother of Gospel didn’t seem inclined to blatantly convert them into Her own minions. Instead, She allowed them to remain hidden within other pathways to godhood.

On the surface, everything looked perfectly normal, yet unbeknownst to anyone, their absolute allegiance had already been secretly branded onto them.

What a source of corruption in the transcendent world, silently nourishing all things. It could truly be called impossible to guard against completely—but he still had to guard against it.

His Excellency the Demigod collapsed to the ground, turning into a lump of meat, but the commotion did not stop there at all. There were still plenty of spectators left.

Their sanity annihilated, the crowd did not move smartly. They relied almost entirely on instinct, but the advantage was that they were completely unafraid of death.

Fu Qian even saw a bizarre swelling appear directly on Old Man Feng Yunhong’s body.

...So was there really nothing new? Not only was his Rank stable, but his ultimate move was still this?

Recalling the image of the other party chasing him to self-destruct back within the Angel of Comfort, even Fu Qian felt an unbearable urge to mock him.

Boom!

Of course, this time he wouldn’t trouble Old Man Feng to work so hard.

He twisted his body, raised his leg, and brought his iron boot crashing down.

Amid the gospel that brought boundless enlightenment, a violent, discordant note exploded with a deafening roar.

The ultimate move that Old Man Feng hadn’t even had time to unleash, along with the surrounding spectators showing off their own supernatural abilities, were all reduced to a mist of blood with his assistance.