Eldritch Horror Theatre

You really shouldn’t run your mouth. Karma always came to collect.

He had posed as a certain First Apostle of the Blood Clan more than once, and now the real Herbert was haunting him?

And the name ”Corrupted Blood” suddenly felt a bit more fitting.

Was ”blood” not just an abstract placeholder, but an actual reference to the Blood Clan?

Though they had never officially chatted, Fu Qian was confident in his judgment: that was definitely Herbert’s voice.

In fact, the last time he had heard this voice was also within a reminiscence of the past.

Besides, the Rebirth Club really was his lucky place. Long before he obtained Herbert’s eyeball from Serana, he had already crossed paths with the apostle right here.

”Annalise’s First Apostle? Is it really that much of a coincidence?”

Even Excellency Patches’s reaction seemed to prove this was beyond his expectations.

Yet despite a hint of surprise, he displayed an approachability uncharacteristic of a higher entity, immediately matching the name to the person.”You’ve heard of him?”

Now it was Fu Qian’s turn to be curious.

”But I’ve never met him. This First Apostle is very mysterious. Rumor has it that he questioned the one he swore loyalty to and suffered eternal imprisonment as a result.”

Seeing such efficient progress, Patches didn’t hold back, clicking his tongue as he spoke of the past.

Imprisoned for questioning the one he swore loyalty to?

He had to admit, that didn’t sound like a simple history.

Herbert had questioned Annalise?

If he remembered correctly, according to the Ancient Reminiscence, when Annalise had felt lost in the face of the divine oracle, it was Herbert who fully supported her, persuading her that she was the reincarnation of the Primordial Moon.

Even Annalise’s youthful, inexperienced side as a human before her ascension had been recorded using his eyes as the medium.

Why would someone whose contributions rivaled the merit of following the dragon harbor doubts? Was it over whether the Progenitor of the Blood Clan was truly the reincarnation of the Primordial Moon?

Fu Qian silently recalled what he knew of that secret history, suddenly feeling the sheer weight of the past.

There really seemed to be a rather treasonous possibility here.

Herbert had fully backed Annalise’s rise to power because he firmly believed she was the reincarnation of the Moon God.

What if he later discovered she wasn’t the Moon God’s reincarnation?

That would certainly give him a reason to question her.

”Don’t tell me his punishment involved having his eyes gouged out?”

Though it was easy to imagine many such graphic scenes, Fu Qian didn’t rush to conclusions, thinking instead of the origins of the Ancient Reminiscence.

”There are indeed such rumors, but there seems to be another version—that he gouged out his own eyes.”

In responding to the question, Patches faintly revealed a certain talent for gossip, having heard details even about such a minor figure.

But it stopped there. The higher entity clearly wasn’t bored enough to actually verify it.

”One thing is certain, though: the one you obtained definitely belonged to him.”

The more he heard about Herbert’s experiences, the more the man sounded like a tragic victim. Had Fu Qian accidentally brushed against the whitewashed truth of history this time?

First, deceived by a false decree, he had fought tooth and nail to put the wrong person on the throne.

Then, discovering the truth when it was already too late, he had suffered eternal imprisonment at the hands of the usurper.

Even the eyeballs that had once witnessed certain sensitive events had been specially gouged out.

”Why would he gouge out his own eyes?”

Even as this narrative grew increasingly clichéd, Fu Qian was still very interested in the prospect of self-mutilation.

”Because Annalise liked red eyes, and his were not.”

Patches didn’t mind the question, chuckling as he offered a somewhat abstract reason.

”That actually makes sense.”

It was a bit absurd, but as someone who had heard Annalise say exactly that with his own ears, Fu Qian nodded in earnest, acknowledging that the truth of the rumor was hard to verify.

”Her—bert. I... am—”

After a patient wait, the muttering voice finally seemed to recall its name, confirming Fu Qian’s judgment of his identity.

”I must find her!”

In the very next moment, the voice suddenly pitched higher, as if remembering its mission: ”Why do I keep feeling like he has already found us?”

At this moment, the bizarre nature of the world manifested once again.

One could only say that Kikuchi was truly a top-tier sidekick. After remaining silent for a long while at Lu Ming’s request, he finally couldn’t withstand the psychological pressure and spoke up.

And what he said was so fitting that it formed a cross-dimensional echo with Herbert.

”But you’re not dead yet—”

”And it’s precisely because you talk too much that we’re going to die!”

Unsurprisingly, he immediately earned Old Man Lu’s furious reprimand for being a deadweight teammate.

Fortunately, this deadweight teammate didn’t seem entirely beyond saving; after a brief moment of stubbornness, he really did shut up.

”But who am I looking for—”

However, no sooner had one wave settled than another rose. Herbert, who had just gotten worked up, had actually learned to chime in as well.

First he had forgotten his own name, and now it seemed he had even forgotten his objective.

”Annalise—”

Fortunately, he remembered much faster this time, immediately supplying his own answer: as expected, he was looking for the Progenitor of the Blood Clan.

As for why he was looking for her?

Fu Qian shot Patches a glance.

Because of the gossip this Excellency had just provided, a question that should have been simple had suddenly become complicated.

”Hard to say, but he is indeed deeply integrated with the dream. Even his change in form should have a lot to do with it.”

Patches indicated it was equally hard for him to judge, but he still shared some of his observational findings.

”Because he’s been in the dream for too long?”

This information was highly valuable, effectively providing another reason for Herbert’s sensitivity to the Divine Dream.

Not only was he chasing after Annalise, but he was also a true glutton for dreams.

Moreover, it somewhat explained why the First Apostle of the Blood Clan had turned into a mollusk.

The effects of this dream were truly extraordinary. As expected, sleeping too much was bad for your health.

But the question remained: even with such an obsessive search for her within the dream, Herbert’s motive still seemed to point to two possibilities. It was either an act of rebellion against his imprisonment or an act of undying loyalty to the Progenitor of the Blood Clan.

And from Annalise’s perspective, both possibilities made perfect sense.

After all, as the owner of ”God’s First Dream”, her mastery over dreams was not low. Using it to imprison someone or to hide herself both made perfect sense.

”Find her! Find her—to do what?”

Even the man himself seemed confused. Amidst his constant repeating, he suddenly asked another question, his voice growing manic once more.

”Tell her it isn’t real, it’s all a lie—no, not that! Tell her not to believe a single word I say—no, that’s wrong too!”

But his mania faded as quickly as it came. After violently swinging between various contradictions, his tone suddenly became frighteningly calm, as if he were drawing a clear line between himself and another will inside his body.

”It should be... not to believe a single word ’you’ say—”