Eldritch Horror Theatre

His symptoms were indeed quite severe.

Though they had only audio and no visuals, Fu Qian and Patches were no ordinary men. They had probably met more lunatics in their lives than normal people.

At that moment, as Herbert’s emotions suddenly calmed, the two of them exchanged a glance, clearly arriving at the same diagnosis.

Perhaps this First Apostle was trapped deep within a dream, still stubbornly pursuing the Progenitor of the Blood Clan, but his mental state was far from reassuring.

This even seemed to explain his initial question: ”Who are you?”

It wasn’t just the grogginess of forgetting his own name, but a faint, genuine terror—like watching the person in the mirror suddenly move.

As for why this was happening, it was clearly time for a professional like Excellency Patches to offer his analysis.

”Why does it feel like I just heard the Master’s voice?”

However, true to his status as a core member of the Rebirth Club, old man Kikuchi completely ignored the Deceiver and spoke up before Patches could.”It is indeed—”

This time, even Old Man Lu didn’t rush to reprimand him, acknowledging the judgment in a low voice.

It took only a little thought to realize Kikuchi’s source of information was the serenade from the Archipelago.

Distinguishing a specific person from all that noise was indeed no easy feat. Who knew if that was thanks to him being forced into deep meditation here for so long.

In short, the Master appeared extremely patient. He had never actually entered this place, keeping even his own colleagues completely unaware of his presence.

Sure enough, the most important people to hide from were one’s own allies.

”He’s back, and it sounds like he’s making a move. Should we coordinate an attack from the inside?”

Regardless, having recognized an old colleague, Kikuchi’s morale surged, no longer willing to just sit and endure.

”Don’t you think his timing is a bit too perfect?”

Unfortunately, this was met with a bucket of cold water. Old Man Lu quickly shot back with an icy question.

”—What do you mean?”

Kikuchi froze for a moment, though he seemed to already understand a little.

”Just a moment ago, the sounds of the Archipelago were focused into a single point, and right after that, you hear the Master’s voice. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

Lu Ming sounded as if he had given up on his companion’s intellect.

”Are you saying this is another trick to lure us out?”

Kikuchi was still trying hard to prove himself, deducing a sinister possibility.

”At the very least, I wouldn’t risk believing it.”

Old Man Lu once again displayed his prudent and experienced side, indicating that trusting it was far too risky.

”But if the Master really is out there—”

Kikuchi still tried to argue.

”Heh—hoping to use him as a distraction so we can escape? Too naive.”

Old Man Lu, however, had already seen through him, clearly not interpreting this as Kikuchi caring for his colleague.

Coordinating from the inside was just a superficial excuse. It would indeed be a shame to waste such a good opportunity to draw the enemy’s attention.

”First, even if it really is him, based on what you know about the Master, can he hold off two from the Demigod Realm at once?”

Kikuchi didn’t make a sound, clearly lacking confidence in that regard.

”Second, based on what I know about the Master, there’s no way he would let us take advantage of him like that.”

Old Man Lu’s next remark was even more piercing. Drawing on the bond between the club’s number one and number two employees, he strongly denied any sacrificial spirit on the Master’s part.

”That really isn’t his style... So we just keep waiting?”

Sure enough, some things were deeply ingrained. Kikuchi was convinced in less than a second, his morale rapidly deflating.

”Yes, we keep waiting. Actually, whether it’s real or fake, this isn’t bad news. It proves that someone out there is getting desperate.”

Lu Ming, in turn, boosted his morale.

”As long as we keep waiting, trust me, there will be hope.”

”Hehehe—that actually makes a lot of sense.”

Peace returned inside the egg-shaped womb once again. Having listened with astonishing patience, Patches even offered high praise.

”Maybe Herbert is thinking the same thing—that if he just holds on, there’s hope.”

Not only that, but he smoothly connected it back to Fu Qian’s question, proving he hadn’t been zoning out just now.

”So it’s all the fault of his iron will? Locked up for too long but still not giving up, or persistently searching for someone without finding them, only to finally lose himself in a dream?”

His meaning was easy to understand. Fu Qian casually offered this analysis, remaining noncommittal.

”Hehe—it certainly looks that way. After all, his motives are still hard to determine. Between his two contradictory wills, which one is his true original intent? At this point, they’re completely tangled into a mess.”

Patches sounded in full agreement, indicating the situation was a bit tricky.

And he was right. The sudden calming of the voice didn’t mean Herbert’s mental state had improved.

Even while the Rebirth Club duo analyzed the situation, the commotion on his end hadn’t completely stopped.

The pity was that there was almost no mention of Annalise anymore. It was entirely mutual attacks between ”me” and ”you,” with extremely chaotic logic.

”The main issue is that there’s no way to apply a stimulus to make him reveal more.”

Not only that, but Patches was piling on more bad news.

”This isn’t Herbert’s real-time will. It’s more like a memory, playing on an instinctive loop.

”His mental state is far worse than that; it’s almost complete chaos. I think this is also why he didn’t recognize anyone earlier.”

Pointing a finger at the ”living threads” trembling like harp strings inside the egg-shaped womb, Patches offered a deeper analysis.

’Oh? Such a thing is possible?’

So it wasn’t a real-time mental breakdown. Even this painful struggle was just a playback?

Hearing this, Fu Qian clicked his tongue in marvel, gaining a better understanding of why it was called the ”Fallen” blood.

Patches’ statement actually disproved, to a certain extent, the suspicion that he was slacking on the job.

After all, for the grand Deceiver to just sit quietly and listen to the show without doing a little manipulation to squeeze out some value was somewhat out of character.

So it wasn’t that he didn’t want to squeeze him, but that there was simply no oil left to squeeze?

It could only be said this was truly worthy of being a fractured dream. The value brought by this clue seemed to be rapidly decaying.

”Lie is the original intent.”

But how could a professional blindly emphasize the difficulties? After earnestly listening to Patches’ entire analysis, Fu Qian gave a slight nod while offering some encouragement to the veteran.

Of course, unlike dealing with a youngster, just painting a pretty picture wouldn’t work; he needed to bring out something real.

”You even know this?”

The effect was instantaneous. Patches was momentarily taken aback.

”I’ve heard a little.”

Fu Qian replied with casual modesty.

Why wouldn’t he know? The Red Moon had mentioned it during their very first meeting.

There had previously been an unresolved question: what was Herbert’s true original intent? Was he looking for Annalise to seek revenge or to warn her?

But in truth, on this particular point, he had also been slacking off.

[Do not lose yourself in the Lie.]

This warning the Red Moon had given at the time was always treated as Its divine epiphany on life, associated with the crystallized doomsday.

Was there a slight possibility that this phrase actually originated from Annalise?

Could it be the Death Rattle left behind by that unique Ancient Higher Being in the final moments of her life?