Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 1323: Chapter 1321: Limit Enlightenment

Is this really the time to care about that?

The concern displayed by the Herder visibly left Amila and the others bewildered.

Given the current situation, questioning the true purpose of the three intruders seemed far more reasonable.

“We didn’t find him; it seems he likely isn’t here.”

Nevertheless, being an invited guest, ignoring the other’s inquiry felt somewhat impolite. Amila promptly shook her head and responded.

Though, the instant she finished speaking, the enormous Holy Emblem behind the other triggered her realization—this was The Sect’s domain, and they were the hosts.

There was no helping it; their demeanor was simply too unnaturally composed.

“So, where do you think he should be?”

Fu Qian, however, appeared rather fixated on this question and pressed further without hesitation.

…

Even Amila fell silent for a moment.

This question had certainly crossed her mind more than once, just like “why is this nightmare happening at all.”

Looking at the current progression, everything seemed to follow the Sanctuary’s orchestration. Based on where the nightmare had manifested, Lord Praut likely played a significant role.

As for his exact whereabouts…

“We might know once we awaken.”

Giving a rather evasive answer, Amila then turned her gaze upward, staring at Harriet, who remained silent with closed eyes.

“What did you do to her?”

“They were rather cranky upon waking, disturbing my guests, so I suggested they sleep a bit longer.”

Fu Qian pointed to the Blind Eye elderly woman below, still counting peas in her hand—the only one seated among the listeners.

Although silent, she had clearly been attentively listening to the surrounding conversations. Upon hearing Fu Qian’s comment, she immediately paused and offered a small nod in acknowledgment.

“…So, will she wake up again?”

Amila hesitated when considering how to respond to this gesture but ultimately settled on merely nodding, regardless of whether she was understood.

“More accurately, she’ll wake very soon—just like you all.”

Fu Qian affirmed her question.

So this guy really believed the nightmare wouldn’t last much longer. But then why did he remain so fixated on Lord Praut?

Silently forming her judgment, Amila frowned and glanced at her teammates.

“Actually, I have a technical question.”

Unexpectedly, the other party was now smiling as he looked at Simon.

“It’s said that Hunters are also referred to as the Fallen Sanctuary. So, do they fall after joining the Sanctuary, or are they simply too corrupt to be allowed to join in the first place?”

“Mr. Anke, you seem to worry about so many things. Perhaps consider your own situation first.”

This provocatively loaded question did not receive a reaction from Simon, as Reginald icily interjected.

“I’m already considering my own situation,”

Fu Qian replied, smiling with unwavering cheer.

“You seem to know quite a lot.”

Simon’s condition was evidently deteriorating; the hand grasping his sword was becoming increasingly discolored, almost obscuring the skin beneath.

Yet perhaps owing to his wealth of experience, his mind remained sharp.

“But what you’ve said isn’t important. Anyone can transform into a Hunter with the blessing of the Stars Association.”

“Oh, is that so? Then even Lord Praut?”

Fu Qian casually retorted, letting the thought slip aloud.

Indeed, he had been considering this possibility for a while.

If this nightmare shared the same nature as what was revealed through the earlier mind-fork transmission, theoretically, there must exist a primary dreamer.

Given the extensive replication of an entire town—even as his violent interventions attempted to tear it apart—it displayed remarkable resilience.

Of all the known figures tied to this place thus far, none seemed a more fitting candidate than the ever-present Lord Praut.

And upon confirming Simon’s susceptibility, Fu Qian had made an additional conjecture: this nightmare itself seemed to bear distinct traits of susceptibility.

Be it Harriet or the shattered grotesque creatures he had stomped earlier, even those discarded entities emerging now—all seemed alarmingly prone to contamination.

Was this particular trait owing to the nature of a Hunter-shared dream?

Its creator, wielding the Taboo Decree, could have produced this peculiar nightmare to analyze the conundrum of these lost entities.

After all, the transformations within the mist were far too extraordinary to escape The Sect’s scrutiny.

Of course, this was merely speculation. Based on Amila and her group’s reactions, proving this detail through them seemed nearly impossible.

In truth, Fu Qian’s intentions lay elsewhere.

Purposefully referencing the term “Fallen Sanctuary” he had gleaned from Orintel was nothing more than an attempt to heighten the level of provocation—possibly to allow the nightmare’s primary dreamer to break through their limits.

After all, the end neared.

…

Within his view, the tide of mist had already reached the edge of the plaza.

The grotesque creatures, likewise.

Emerging from various places in distorted forms, these lost entities didn’t exhibit heightened aggression but were undeniably converging toward this final sanctuary.

Under the hopeless gazes of the onlookers, however, the first to reach the plaza was none other than the fortunate officer.

Panting heavily as he burst into the church, before he could express his relief at surviving, a naked body descended from the heavens, narrowly missing him.

What… is this…

The officer looked up, momentarily struck by confusion.

Alas, the Herder atop the Pulpit showed no desire to provide explanations; instead, they rose slowly.

…

By now, Fu Qian’s actions had become the center of everyone’s attention.

Amid the countless gazes, he strode out of the church without pause, arriving at the very center of the plaza, where he tilted his head back at a forty-five-degree angle to examine the sky.

Still, there remained no trace of the Dark Moon, not within this susceptible nightmare, nor after all his effort along the way…

Nothing but the menacing gaze of the surrounding monsters.

Even behind him.

Amid startled cries, fragments rained down as the small church’s roof was torn open right above him, ripped into a gaping maw.

Just as he had said earlier—the contamination rooted in Harriet swiftly returned as though lightning itself had struck.

Its Enlightenment clearly brought further sublimation; ditching most of its earlier victims behind, it immediately homed in on its mentor—him.

Known for his disdain for empty renown, Fu Qian didn’t so much as glance over his shoulder; instead, he extended his arms and arched his back.

No bounty? The fault isn’t in your stars; it’s in your ambition.

As the nightmare careened toward collapse, why not push your partner’s resolve to its absolute limit?

Tendril Barrage Devastator!

At last—the long-awaited final technique unleashed under Frostburn’s effect.

In an instant, a seemingly dimensionless yet brightly cold veil enveloped the surroundings, faintly mirroring a crescent moon’s shadow upon its surface.

At the same time, from Fu Qian’s very being, countless fractured lines crisscrossed inside the sphere, mercilessly slicing through anything that dared cross their paths.

As this breathtaking spectacle erupted in shattering devastation, the sky he continued to gaze upon unveiled a ghostly blue full moon.

The light dimmed to shadow, as though night fell in an instant.

Dark Moon… could it truly exist?