Eldritch Horror Theatre

Clack!

To his relief, the window could still open despite its age.

Amid the stark sense that things remained while people changed, Fu Qian pondered the goat-headed demon’s disappearance. Rather than rushing off to search the rest of the building, he simply pulled open the window in front of him.

The radiance of Dayun Mingwang spilled over this deathly silent place at an even higher intensity.

It was indeed the same building, though much of its exterior had peeled away.

The surrounding architecture grew clearer as well. Aside from being far more desolate, it perfectly matched the scene he had witnessed earlier.

Of course, the most important detail was the long-lost view of The Lake.

Directly ahead, that expanse—as perfectly circular as if drawn by a compass—was now clearly in sight.

It looked a bit different than before, however. The mirror-smooth surface was completely gone; at a glance, there didn’t seem to be a single drop of water left.

Indeed. Sage Lake, undeniably the core of Unseen Hill during his last mission, was completely dried up in this lightless version of Unseen Hill.Even so, the exposed lakebed remained just as extraordinary—

If the original lake had been a perfect circle, then from this angle, the dried-up basin looked like a massive, sunken hemisphere.

Wasn’t that a bit exaggerated? When he last saw it, he hadn’t noticed such an astonishing water capacity. There hadn’t even been a deep water warning sign.

Amid his musings, Fu Qian took a step forward, just as he had when entering the Gate of Freedom earlier.

...

Even the howling wind felt utterly lifeless.

The previous anomaly—stepping outward only to end up back indoors—did not happen this time.

Stepping into thin air, Fu Qian went into a direct free fall, plummeting straight down from the eighth floor.

Even when he finally struck the ground with a heavy thud, he maintained excellent form. With an impeccable cushioning roll, he even managed to keep the shoes on his feet entirely intact.

He didn’t pause for a single second upon landing, heading straight toward Sage Lake.

In all fairness, while this place looked like a ghost town, the streets were actually even cleaner than in the previous Unseen Hill.

There were no scattered bonfires, no performance artists, and no similar remains to speak of.

In fact, this was one of the reasons he hadn’t bothered searching the building he’d just left.

Every action required weighing the expected return. A carpet search was naturally thorough, but it was hard to imagine finding anything worth the time in a desolate place like this.

The other reason was that when he had gazed out at Sage Lake earlier, he thought he spotted something interesting—and he certainly had.

In the blink of an eye, Fu Qian had completed his journey of revisiting an old haunt, coming to a halt somewhere along the lakeshore.

He hadn’t been mistaken; it was indeed a hemisphere.

The radiance of Dayun Mingwang instantly illuminated this mysterious corner, bringing the scene underfoot into sharp focus.

It was clearly the exact size of the former Sage Lake. From the outer rim down to the very center of the lakebed, the earth curved in an almost perfect arc.

So much so that rather than a dried-up lake, it looked more like a gargantuan wok.

And while there wasn’t a single drop of water inside, something else had piled up at the bottom.

People. Many, many people.

Torsos, limbs, heads—Fu Qian was absolutely certain they were human forms. However, they were entirely coated in a layer of lifeless ash, stacked upon each other row after row.

...

Could it be that the entirety of Unseen Hill was down there?

A human’s total volume was actually much smaller than intuition suggested.

Coupled with their utter lack of movement, stacked together like completely inanimate objects, Fu Qian estimated that the number of people sunk at the bottom of the lake was likely staggering.

It felt as if all of Unseen Hill had been tossed into a massive pot, and because the heat hadn’t been properly controlled, everything had melted into a coagulated mess.

So, had passing through the Gate of Freedom truly revealed the reality of the world?

The designation of Grey Bed seemed far more fitting now.

Sighing inwardly at the thought, Fu Qian casually canceled the Commandment Residue.

The radiant light abruptly vanished, plunging the world back into darkness.

Click!

The very next moment, accompanied by a spark, a much fainter glimmer of light flared to life in his hand.

It was a Lantern burning with a faintly greenish flame, its glass casing thoroughly coated in dust.

While he hadn’t thoroughly searched the Prophet Building earlier, as a low-profile man, he had casually grabbed a little something from room 802 on his way out.

In a metropolis like this, this kind of Lighting Equipment felt a bit too archaic. However, considering the horse-drawn carriages used for transportation, this minor detail didn’t seem quite so jarring.

”Apologies for borrowing this without permission.”

Illuminated by the solitary lamp in the darkness, Fu Qian naturally tossed a greeting toward his side.

There was a reason he had stopped in this exact spot.

The only figure who hadn’t ended up in the giant pot was leaning against a nearby stone platform.

He was also the only one not coated in ash.

With messy hair, a large belly, and loose pajamas... it was none other than Prophet Yuan Fang, the man he had been searching for.

Strictly speaking, of course, he should be the former Prophet of Unseen Hill, as he had long since stepped down.

...

Although he was sitting on the ground, his elevated position provided a vantage point to overlook the entire massive pot.

And Yuan Fang certainly appeared to be doing exactly that, despite the pitch-black darkness from moments ago.

Even with his rather sloppy posture, one could still sense a profound compassion radiating from him.

”Were they already like this when you got here?”

Fu Qian didn’t mind the slightest bit that his arrival was being completely ignored by his old friend. He simply stepped closer to ask, even setting the Lantern down.

Unfortunately, there was still no response. Under the glow of the eerie green light, he could see that the eyes within that familiar face were completely missing from their sockets.

In their place, an inky blackness as thick as a physical substance oozed out, exuding an endless gloom.

...

The Deep. The most profound accumulation of human nature.

It was a somewhat terrifying sight, yet in that moment, Fu Qian sensed a striking familiarity within it.

He had seen this distinct color before—back when he used the Ash-Bestowing Ring to transform into a Deep Avatar.

Incidentally, that had also been his mission reward last time he was here.

So did this mean Prophet Yuan Fang had further embraced The Deep after stepping down?

Had he stepped through that door, arrived here, and witnessed the truth of Unseen Hill?

It seemed entirely plausible. Frankly, given the role he played, one could even call it a Sublimation akin to the Unity of Heaven and Humanity.

After all, based on previous encounters, while Unseen Hill boasted plenty of capable and eccentric figures, none had directly grasped the true essence of this power.

The only pity was that his old friend seemed to have lost the ability to communicate.

Fu Qian was absolutely certain that Yuan Fang was still alive, yet the man seemed completely unresponsive to his arrival—hmm?

It proved wise not to jump to conclusions. After a moment, the Prophet’s eerie face actually began turning in his direction.

Though he remained stiff and entirely silent, he slowly raised his right hand and gestured to the side.