Eldritch Horror Theatre

”You can give the eye back to me now.”

Before Fu Qian could comment on this seemingly familiar gesture, Master Yuhun explained his reasoning himself.

”I thought you were going to give me the other one too.”

What was borrowed must be returned—a fundamental truth of the world. Though curious about his opponent’s behavior, Fu Qian casually gouged out the eyeball and handed it over.

”I wouldn’t mind if it helped, but unfortunately, it would only be a hindrance.

”Seeing too much will often only leave you feeling like there is no path forward.”

Rather than rushing to shove it back in, Master Yuhun explained his reasoning.

”What I can be certain of is that my eye would only lower your chances of touching that place.

”You need to rely on yourself. I look forward to your performance.”

With his encouragement delivered, he casually squeezed his hand, crushing the eyeball.That wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

As he identified the various structures within the crushed eyeball, Fu Qian didn’t think his opponent was deliberately raising the difficulty.

First of all, Master Yuhun was right; there had indeed been an element of deliberate exhibitionism in his use of the Frenzied Flame.

As he had decided long ago, exploring the fundamental nature of the King of the Abandoned Prison’s power would be a core focus of his subsequent research into the Transcendent Tier.

And as a man of action, Fu Qian had indeed done a lot of work centered around it.

Even the honorific name of Master Yuhun, who stood before him, was something he had learned during this process.

Faced with a player who clearly knew much more, how could he possibly waste this hard-earned opportunity to meet face-to-face?

Using the Flame of Frenzy to resolve the doomsday problem just now had indeed been a good choice, but it also held another crucial significance: emphasizing his curiosity to his opponent.

It told the other party that the next arena could be set up there, and he certainly wouldn’t refuse or try to escape.

According to Stoss’s description, Master Yuhun had at least seen the Abandoned Prison, and his Dao of the Empty Head was especially suited for bridging that connection.

Not to mention he had specially saved the Claudora Flesh—that universal material—to serve as an Anchor Point for his conceptual leaps.

With these conditions in place, all that remained was to make the man realize the necessity of doing so.

This was also an important reason why he had cooperatively listened to the other party’s emotional journey just now.

Although the psychological attack hadn’t shown immediate results, the message had been delivered; the next step would be forcing Fu Qian to accept it bit by bit until there was absolutely no room left for cognitive maneuvering.

But while this was an open scheme against him, how could it not be the same against Master Yuhun?

Faced with the world’s various fallacies, he had stubbornly taken the Abandoned Prison as a vital cognitive line of defense.

To pursue the route of spiritual annihilation, Master Yuhun had to make him see that coffin.

And if Master Yuhun worried about the ”risks” and harbored even the slightest thought of avoidance, it was entirely imaginable that his own Dao heart would be damaged by this lack of confidence.

A fight with all cards on the table was often much more brutal.

And as expected, faced with his hints, his opponent took the bait.

...

Touching it himself, rather than through someone else’s eye.

Still gripping the paper cup, the now-eyeless Fu Qian stood up, feeling that sense of displacement.

The current situation was very clear: responding to his request, the other party had decisively made the Abandoned Prison the next arena.

Just as everything had collapsed into a doomsday scenario earlier, the boundary between the Academy and that Land of Self-Abandonment was currently closing in.

What was slightly surprising was that Master Yuhun had only observed that place, but never truly entered it.

As a result, winning this round wouldn’t just require surviving in that notoriously perilous place—he would first have to manage to reach it.

In short, this was a true mutual pursuit.

And out of curiosity, he had imposed extra difficulty on himself.

But it didn’t matter. As a scientific researcher, he had always known that the path of exploration was riddled with danger.

This was the Academy. Regardless of what the original theme of this meeting was or what dangers it contained, its academic value had to be exploited—even during a tea break.

Being an academic leader was no simple task.

Fu Qian ripped open another wound on his hand, though this one was much smaller, making the speed at which he poured the wine far slower than before.

At the same time, he activated Left and Right.

Gained through the Insight of the Tyrant’s Fist, activating it scrambled the concept of his hands, making it much easier to resonate with the detested Abandoned Prison.

...

There seemed to be a change.

Left and Right, Blood and Wine—with every drop of blood that fell, two forms of chaos intertwined.

As the Source of Chaos, while Fu Qian savored this beauty, he also successfully sensed much more.

It really was a concept even more ethereal and difficult to grasp than the Mind World. Even its resonance with his hands was so abstract that sensing it was quite difficult.

But one had to look on the bright side: this meant it would be even harder for his opponent to sense.

The moment he activated the skill, Master Yuhun looked over.

It was obvious that he had a considerably high degree of control over this place, which was close to being refined into the Mind World.

”We actually do have points of agreement: this cup, your hand, and that power that twisted the surroundings earlier... well twisted.”

In the next moment, Master Yuhun even learned the art of seeking common ground while reserving differences, offering high praise to Fu Qian’s Authority of Scourge.

This actually wasn’t hard to empathize with. Since all so-called order was delusion, wouldn’t stirring it into a complete mess mean two negatives make a positive?

However, Master Yuhun didn’t seem to grasp the main point, once again proving that his grasp of the Abandoned Prison was indeed not very high—snap!

Fu Qian snapped his fingers. In that instant, golden flames shrouded his entire body, surging wildly.

”You really...”

This time, Master Yuhun finally seemed to realize something.

But it wasn’t enough.

Although the visual effects were incredibly exaggerated, making it look as though he were about to transform, in Fu Qian’s perception, it had only slightly amplified that abstract resonance. He was still far too far from truly being able to touch it—Mythical Form.

Since it looked like he was going to transform, how could he not?

The moment Master Yuhun finished his sigh, Fu Qian’s body abruptly swelled, once again transforming into the King of the Abandoned Prison.

This was it.

The terrifying might of an ancient Divine Entity struck awe across the entire area, leaving even Master Yuhun momentarily speechless.

And under this enhancement, Fu Qian finally grasped that resonance.

Still without looking at his opponent, he tilted his head up a moment later, sensing a trace of crimson within the Real Academy that could also be faintly grasped.

The Red Moon... he had only gone back for a few seconds, yet it had actually followed him here? It was even faintly engaging in a vigilant standoff with another power.

The Blazing Rainbow was being quite well-behaved this time. Although sharp, it seemed to have merely taken a single glance—what a pity, he didn’t have the time to catch up with it right now.

Raising his cup to take another drink, Fu Qian walked into the Land of Self-Abandonment.