Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 1313: Chapter 1311: The Prisoner’s Urge

Although not particularly bright, Reginald could be considered an action-oriented individual.

Without wasting time on meaningless threats, he took two quick steps back, and the next moment, luminous patterns flashed across his body.

Meanwhile, Amila deliberately moved closer to Fu Qian, her intent was clear—to keep an eye on this enigmatic individual in case of unexpected actions.

Unfortunately, she quickly realized the anomaly wasn’t with Fu Qian, but rather…

“You two?”

In her field of vision, the patterns on Reginald’s body swiftly interwove into a peculiar circular motif, dispersing into the vast gray mist with vibrations.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes to find the two still standing in their original spots, and the shock made him draw another deep breath.

“I get it now. We actually transitioned from the nightmare into reality just now.”

But before he could share his thoughts, Fu Qian suddenly clapped his hands, his tone filled with apparent realization.

“We are among the few who have escaped. Now, our aim is to get to Leytin and rescue the others.”

“That’s impossible!”

The two members of The Sect were clearly unable to accept this reasoning, but if they didn’t accept it, how else could it be explained?

“Nothing can deceive the power of Star Law or prevent an escape from the nightmare…”

Muttering to himself, Reginald suddenly remembered something and sharply looked at Fu Qian.

Earlier, he had mentioned the idea that they might also be trapped here. Was it really not nonsense? How did this man know?

“What if it’s another law?”

Faced with an inquisitive gaze, the Herder didn’t refuse to answer and provided a new perspective.

“Impossible, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Reginald almost instantly rejected the notion, his expression becoming even more incredulous than before.

“Heh, the mysteries of the Stars Association are beyond your imagination!”

Fu Qian’s tone was arrogant, as if, to the uninformed observer, he were the actual member of The Sect.

……

Fu Qian was relatively satisfied with how events were unfolding before him.

Of course, he wasn’t so bored as to concern himself with the return journey of the two Sect members, nor did he care about dismantling their beliefs.

The reason he had guided them to make the earlier attempts was actually quite simple—to test the “intensity” of this nightmare.

The results proved that, for the two Sect members, it was far more challenging than their previous night shifts.

Moreover, the speculation about “another law” wasn’t entirely baseless.

Given the peculiarities surrounding Amila and her team’s task, Fu Qian felt that the probability of this nightmare not originating from The Sect was almost negligible.

It wouldn’t be surprising that they were capable of achieving this, especially since Fu Qian still had vivid recollections of the bizarre brainfork from last night.

But the real question was—why?

…

This morning, in retrospect, was actually quite straightforward.

After Amila’s report was submitted, compounded with the developments on Orintel’s side, The Sect showed significant concern. However, their opinions were somewhat divided.

The Hunters behind Simon undoubtedly maintained a much harsher stance toward him.

If detected under pronounced pollution at sunrise, it’s very likely he wouldn’t have been treated politely.

Yet under the Pontiff’s protection, he easily passed the examination, paving the way for Amila and her team’s appearance.

They, too, had clear objectives, collaborating with Simon to observe his reaction to the mist.

Once it was confirmed, to a certain extent, that he wasn’t connected to an abandoned piece, he was finally brought to the destination—the ruins of the old church—and subsequently entered a nightmare.

Although the scene was eerie, the stability of the nightmare was undoubtedly quite high.

So much so that Amila and her team had no way of escaping on their own.

Given all the evidence, there seemed to be a simple explanation—the test wasn’t over yet.

The Sect had sent him into the nightmare, imprisoning him and waiting to verify certain things.

…

The reason behind such assumptions also ties back to an earlier mentioned point—Fu Qian had always been able to “see” his real-world self.

Standing near the ruins of that unlocatable house.

Amila and her team, along with Simon, were the same. Though, of course, they likely were not aware of this phenomenon.

Additionally, Fu Qian even knew that an observer’s eyes were on him, but clearly, there was no intent of a surprise attack.

It was truly an uncanny feeling, Fu Qian remarked, referencing the misalignment of time between both worlds.

Timekeeping, of course, was real. Fu Qian even knew that in the first minute of entering the nightmare, the “reality” time flowed just as usual.

But at the instant the minute ended, the outside world froze.

As if someone pressed the pause button—unless one woke from the nightmare, the next second would never arrive.

Fu Qian couldn’t help indulging in a fleeting thought: if his earlier hypothesis were true, then under the Pontiff’s perspective, could Leytin be just like this?

Naturally, this was a digression for the time being. The real concern now was—what were they waiting for?

The available information to make a judgment was still far too scarce, but the advantage was it seemed as though if Fu Qian willingly cooperated, the answers would eventually surface.

Or… perhaps he could expedite the process himself.

“Where are you going?”

Reginald, deeply questioning everything after hearing Fu Qian’s remarks about the mysteries of the Stars Association, couldn’t help but call out the moment he saw Fu Qian turning to leave.

Because in his field of vision, the “Dark Moon Apostle” was walking away, appearing utterly uninterested in continuing any interaction.

“Of course, I’m going back. Our purpose here has already been accomplished, hasn’t it? You’ve demonstrated your incompetence,”

Fu Qian paused in his steps, glanced at Reginald with a nearly expressionless face, and delivered a sharp critique offhandedly.

“…Back where?”

This argument, theoretically, was indeed hard to refute—the initial reason for coming here had been Fu Qian’s assertion that neither of them could leave, a notion now irrevocably proven.

But his sudden departure was simply too abrupt, prompting Amila to finally speak up.

“To the church, of course. Wasn’t your mission to bring me there?”

Fu Qian’s tone was naturally unassuming.

“If you find yourselves lost later, feel free to visit my church.”

How did it suddenly become his church?

The two invitees couldn’t help but mentally grumble, but the next moment, their gazes flickered with horror as they instinctively took two steps back.

The self-assured Dark Moon Apostle astonishingly raised both hands in a lifting gesture, while his body suddenly expanded rapidly.

In an instant, a form so overwhelming it was difficult to look directly at it appeared within the chaotic mist.

This wasn’t even the most shocking part. What was truly staggering was that the dense mist, which had stubbornly remained unperturbed up until now, seemed to be tearing apart.

Faced with this reality-defying scene, the two were finally rooted in place, powerless to utter a single thought.

Resilience against pressure? Not bad.

The object of their attention, however, didn’t seem to be bothered at all. As he felt the Brilliant Tyrant ripping through the nightmare’s resistance, Fu Qian walked leisurely onward, disappearing into the distance without a care.