Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 1289: Chapter 1287: Loss of Image (31)

Sitting in the cocoon and observing the heavens above, the brilliance of its majesty remains undiminished.

Although the moon in the sky is not dim, Fu Qian stands with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the stars. In Yack’s eyes, this scene unexpectedly became something difficult to question aloud.

“A personified divine being symbolizing the Dark Moon?”

After a round of psychological adjustment, Yack finally managed to stabilize his emotions and asked.

“I know what you’re trying to say. For beings like you, this is almost synonymous with corruption, isn’t it?”

Fu Qian slightly shook his head.

“A persona is so unstable, so hard to define, so lacking in transcendence. It will never be as orderly and correct as divine decrees. It is destined to represent confinement and chaos.”

…

Yack clearly hadn’t anticipated such sincerity in Fu Qian’s response. For a while, he remained silent.

But this action equally exposed that this indeed aligned with his inner thoughts.

“I have no intention of debating that with you, nor of convincing you that the Dark Moon Cult Leader represents sublime beauty and greatness. That would be meaningless. I only want to state one fact.”

Fu Qian fixed his gaze on Yack and the spear in his hand.

“Are you prepared? Right now, confront the corruption and downfall you’ve imagined.”

Fu Qian stepped forward once more.

Standing almost adjacent to the Carved Giant Cocoon, he inevitably made direct contact with the manifestation of “No Entry” blocking his way, resting his hand upon it.

Indeed, the sensation was strikingly familiar.

The seemingly slender and fragile giant cocoon remained completely unmoving at that moment, resolutely embodying its unyielding prohibition.

Just like the scene from years prior when he first encountered the Academy’s Assassin Brother.

Yes, it was precisely the sensation of touching the Angel of Comfort.

Back then, when Fourth Order Peak Li Weixuan struck it with full force, it was immovable. And now, as a mere Second Phase figure, he faced an almost identical “Barrier of Sighs.”

Of course, that didn’t entirely mean it was impossible to violently break through.

Let’s not forget that my revered title is the Abandonment King.

If costly sacrifices were made, transforming into Mythical Form, with the Mechanical Old God facing the Barrier of Sighs, it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.

But that tactic would likely frighten the children outside, and it wouldn’t match my Dark Moon Cult Leader’s aesthetic.

Opting for a gentler approach would seem far more suitable.

…

“How exactly are you doing this?”

Of course, not everyone understands your gentleness.

In the next moment, Yack’s voice, suppressing his emotions with difficulty, broke the silence, though fear still seeped unmistakably from its tone.

The reason was simple. Following this intimate contact, starting from where Fu Qian’s left hand pressed, cold cracks rapidly crawled across “No Entry,” spreading unfalteringly outward.

Most of them flickered and vanished into nothingness, but a small portion remained permanently etched.

In truth, this scene had been happening for a while, though not as vividly and intensely as now.

“You already know the answer, don’t you? Just because the corruption is overwhelming, does that make it any less corruption?”

Faced with the inquiry of the Children of the Stars, Fu Qian ruthlessly reminded him.

“Of course, if you insist on finding a name that makes yourself feel more comfortable, I absolutely understand. After all, in the days ahead, you’ll need to learn to coexist with this scene before you.”

“You are not like those scattered instances of corruption. You come from Nightmare.”

As it turns out, Brother Jake indeed had a sliver of integrity left. He actually chose not to sugarcoat reality.

Not only that, but he also provided a highly valuable piece of information—Nightmares concentrating their assault recently bear higher significance to them than the isolated aberrant types. For instance, Harriet.

That fits my intentions perfectly.

“Is it possible that you are the ones originating from Nightmare?”

Understanding how to collaborate is an art. Without bluntly declaring “Congratulations, you’re correct,” Fu Qian instead gave a sigh of clarity amidst perplexity.

“Given your so-called absolute correctness, does it really seem that definitive? What reasoning makes you so certain about your own state?”

“Could it be that, at this moment, your true selves are swimming through a dung pit somewhere and that I’m here to redeem you? Children of Nightmare?”

“You… scoundrel!”

Such sacrilegious words clearly struck at the proud heart of the Bloodline Clan, refusing to be accepted.

“You’re still trying to use this cognitive chaos to corrupt me? The Bloodline Clan is far beyond what your shallow mind can imagine.”

Yack grit his teeth with unsurprising vehemence, no longer questioning Fu Qian’s ties to Nightmare.

“You think my kin merely revel in enjoyment all day? So far, every Nightmare discovered in Leytin has already been explored by us. And clearly, none of them contain any claim about a ‘Dark Moon Cult Leader’… Making up names for your faith’s object so casually—yes, that truly fits the definition of blasphemy.”

“Go ahead, tell me, what is the name of the one who bestowed such power upon you?”

“Amid endless snowstorms, surrounded by Seven Lights. You could simply ask me directly if you wished; there’s no need for such roundabout probing.”

Unfortunately, what responded to him was only Fu Qian’s derisive smile.

“Snowstorms… Seven Lights…”

In muttered contemplation, Yack’s gaze flickered uncontrollably, as if connecting it to something in his mind.

“The World Within the Painting?”

With the staggering number of victims attributed to the World Within the Painting in Leytin, the Seven Lights theory clearly wouldn’t be too obscure a concept.

And as expected, this man wasn’t exaggerating. Despite their disdain, the Bloodline Clan had a decent grasp of the situation, guessing the allusion effortlessly—a testament to Fu Qian’s calculated efforts.

Indeed, if one truly aimed to conceal, they’d simply have remained silent.

High and mighty as the Children of the Stars, distilled representations of this world’s primal forces—how could you not make use of them?

In fact, one could rank this as tonight’s biggest unexpected windfall of the mission.

The second biggest, naturally, was the arrival of The Sect.

“Perhaps? And for you, that might even be good news. After all, that place hardly seems worthy of being called a Nightmare.”

Fu Qian smiled with an expression inviting punishment.

“Feel free to give it a try. Oh, and don’t forget to deliver my regards to the Cult Leader when you meet them.”

“But for now, it seems we’ve strayed far off course. Let’s return to the patient, shall we?”

“You have to explain everything today. This is your only chance.”

Yack, refusing to let the topic shift again, pointed his spear at Fu Qian once more, his voice chilling as ice.

“Looks quite impressive, I must admit. Let me think—this is one of the most classic and exalted gifts of divine decrees, isn’t it?”

Seemingly unfazed by death’s direct gaze, Fu Qian observed the weapon in his adversary’s hand with great interest.

“That’s correct: the Spear of Fated Death. Any entity struck by it faces unavoidable death, incapable of being evaded by any means. Unlike the Untouchables, only a rare few within the Bloodline Clan can wield it.”

“How about testing if you can corrupt this as well? Oh, I almost forgot—your corruption still needs considerable time to pierce barriers—”

Yack’s ridicule abruptly ceased.

In his line of sight, the thug bound within the cocoon silently extended his right hand, inserting it into the fish-mouth-like crevice on the cocoon.