Eldritch Horror Theatre

So what did this mean?

If he didn’t have such confidence in his memory, Fu Qian would have assumed he picked this perfect vantage point himself.

And since he hadn’t, that made everything seem even more bizarre.

Were these footprints not left by Liliana, but by someone else observing her from here?

If that hypothesis held, he would have to add a new possibility to his two previous guesses—

The footprints were indeed left while Senior Liliana was still here, but they weren’t hers; someone else had been treating her as an observation target.

It sounded increasingly sinister... but looking at it from another angle, it wasn’t actually that hard to understand.

Recovering from that strange posture, Fu Qian stretched, recalling a certain friend he had once shared a cell with.

Indeed, back when he was young and reckless, he had ignored ”Mother’s” warnings and visited some incredible places.

For example, that bubble also located within the Deity Burial Ground, which the Red Moon had strongly warned him was dangerous.Not only were there armored mechanical guards inside, but deep within, there was even a crude cell.

And inside that cell was the second living person he had encountered in the entire Deity Burial Ground.

Faced with his intrusion into the cell, that person’s first reaction had been to slam the cell door shut, intent on making him a roommate.

Precisely because of that peculiar reaction, he had suspected at the time that the person was similar in nature to the bugs in the Blood Lake.

Meaning he was neither a Native nor a prisoner locked up there, but rather a warning mechanism belonging to the Night Watchers.

For the peace of the world, he had guarded that place despite its unique corruption, and had actually succeeded in discovering a lawbreaker.

Fortunately, Fu Qian had reacted quickly, decisively using a senior who had already fallen to the demonic path—His Excellency a Certain King of Dismemberment—as a human shield.

He hadn’t just transformed into the appearance of the White-Faced Man; he had even used the golden Frenzied Flame.

It was likely this very act of scapegoating his senior that had triggered the Night Watchers’ subsequent special operation, which ultimately led to the wedding hall of the Dismemberer King and the Goddess of Sins being destroyed.

In short, when it came to unusual human traces appearing in the burial ground, Fu Qian leaned toward interpreting them all as likely monitoring methods of the Night Watchers.

Not to mention that Senior Liliana had clearly been hiding here for quite some time, crying for no reason. It was perfectly normal that she had attracted attention.

The question now was: based on the current findings, what should he do next?

As a hundred-and-twenty-percent King of the Abandoned Prison, he could practically ignore the minor pollution and corruption in the burial ground.

But looking at all the signs, even if it wasn’t yet certain why these changes were occurring, the probability of being discovered by the Night Watchers was noticeably higher than usual.

Acting rashly seemed highly likely to trigger the situation mentioned earlier—springing a Hongmen banquet prematurely—so it was best to be careful when moving.

Taking a light step, Fu Qian’s figure moved like a ghost, his feet tapping against the weathered building before he finally landed on the ground.

...

Returning to the city was out of the question.

Although it seemed there was more unexpected trouble, wasn’t this ”unexpectedness” a target worth investigating in itself?

Wealth is found in danger. If he wanted to gain something in this current autumn of many troubles, just methodically clearing exclamation marks would never cut it.

It wasn’t a good idea to cause destruction inside the building right now, but going out to take a look should be fine, right?

This wasn’t the first time he’d done this. With his back to Liliana’s Hideout, Fu Qian walked off into the distance, step by step.

Just like during his last walk, space and time proved to still be distorted.

Although he couldn’t feel it himself, by using the Ruins behind him as a coordinate, he could see that the change in his position wasn’t continuous—he was constantly jumping forward.

Theoretically, this should be good news. Last time, it was exactly through these constant jumps that he had reached the edge of the bubble much faster than it appeared.

Even the storm from last time had returned.

At a certain point, Fu Qian reached out his hand, feeling the sudden, fierce scouring.

The tide that Senior Liliana had been avoiding—or rather, the intermittent storm—had once again entered that frenzied state.

To Fu Qian, however, it was no longer anything significant; the strong wind merely felt a bit biting.

Even the doomsday melody lingering in his ears hadn’t turned harsh because of this change. It should be about time, right?

Everything seemed serene and peaceful, until this peace lasted a little too long.

He could easily note the distance to the Ruins behind him, and could just as easily calculate the number of steps he had taken.

Although the jumps were theoretically discontinuous, at that moment, Fu Qian was absolutely certain he had walked much further than he had the last time.

However, the path ahead still looked endless, and the sensation of his body being stretched into two dimensions never arrived.

...

This sort of thing was possible?

On the one hand, the bubbles were merging, and elements that didn’t originally belong here were appearing.

On the other hand, the connecting channels between them had been sealed off, making it impossible to smoothly hop between them anymore?

This awkward feeling was somewhat consistent with the style of the footprint found next to Senior Liliana earlier.

His musings didn’t slow his journey. Faced with this anomaly within the calm, Fu Qian didn’t rush to do anything; instead, he maintained his pace and kept walking.

It proved he indeed wasn’t overthinking things. It wasn’t until the storm suddenly subsided, and then rose again—a full cycle of tidal fluctuation having passed—that Fu Qian realized he still hadn’t reached the edge.

Interesting.

Braving that bit of wind and frost, Fu Qian put the Eldest Son’s Vision onto his face once more.

...

What was this now?

Halting his steps and taking off the Ribbon, Fu Qian saw streaming colors above his head, scattering like a startled flock of sheep.

Illuminated by this brilliance, a wound on his shoulder looked particularly gruesome.

That was right—during that indescribable experience just now, this injury had appeared on his body.

More accurately, the Mechanical King of the Abandoned Prison had just suffered an attack.

The attack was so fierce that even oil had leaked out.

There really were foul things at work, and their foulness was still increasing.

If Fu Qian was forced to describe what he had just encountered, he would say it was something similar to the footprint from earlier.

Yes, it wasn’t all that real. Its conceptual nature far exceeded its physical substance, to the point where it could vaguely be understood as traces of ”history”—things that had once happened.

At the same time, this trace that had suddenly appeared could not only interact with his current self, but also possessed considerable lethality... and even considerable killing intent.

It was as if in some inconceivable spacetime, an ancient guard was wielding the Sword of Heavenly Punishment, forbidding any living creature from taking another step forward.

And this forbidden past was actually exerting an influence, even on the present day.