Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 1317: Chapter 1315 Nightmare Breeding Ground

“Lies and fallacies confuse those ensnared, leaving them unaware. But the Herder who guides the weak through the dark gorge shall surely receive the blessing of the Dark Moon!”

His finger pointed to the church’s dome, though it seemed to gesture even higher—toward the boundless night sky. The imposing figure standing at the pulpit recited a line full of dominance and grandeur.

Accompanied by flickering cracks and a visage no one dared gaze upon directly, the atmosphere of chaotic debauchery that had filled the space earlier was utterly wiped away—for the audience, at least.

Fu Qian was very aware that although he had temporarily created an ideal setting for the gathering, the dormant forces shaken by this impact could resurface at any moment, manifesting in ways that defied imagination.

After all, his Gospel not only caused an impact but also brought Enlightenment.

No matter. When that moment comes, either the Nightmare will have already ended, or The Sect will just use the opportunity to showcase more.

The performance earlier was spirited, but it wasn’t enough.

Accelerate.

…

Through the open chapel door, Fu Qian gazed downward at the audience within.

From their perspective, it wasn’t easy to view the spectacle above, but the sermon had clearly already made a sufficient impact.

At this moment, everyone had ceased their prior actions and turned to gaze here with eyes full of reverence.

He hoped this emotion would ripple outward and affect those observing from beyond.

“What is the Dark Moon?”

Following the initial convulsions, the bodies overhead rapidly contracted as if scalded by boiling water. They clung tightly to all corners of the dome.

At a glance, it resembled an extraordinary mural.

However, the sole audience member within the church couldn’t appreciate this scene. Instead, she focused on the content of the sermon, voicing her confusion.

“A deep blue moon, cold, elegant.”

In a calm tone, Fu Qian provided a succinct answer.

“So, what’s the relationship between the Dark Moon and the Stars Association?”

The elderly woman listened attentively, pondered briefly, then asked another question.

“An excellent question.”

Fu Qian nodded slightly, even for a moment.

“It is more beautiful than all of them.”

…

Strictly speaking, this answer didn’t perfectly align with the inquiry, but for the elderly woman before him, it seemed sufficient.

“Thank you.”

She expressed sincere gratitude and refrained from asking further. Lowering her gaze, she resumed her earlier stance of counting peas in her hand, one by one.

What clung to her—it was apt to define it as corruption.

Peering down at the scene, Fu Qian silently pondered.

Indeed, compared to the gatekeeping officers, this elderly woman was far from ordinary.

However, her faint trace of inhumanity ultimately manifested in pure and chaotic anguish, devoid of even a speck of benefit.

So far, apart from his own escort team, the roles in this Nightmare could be divided into two categories—ordinary people and those corrupted.

According to Reginald’s explanation, there were also The Sect’s trainee members above, though they clearly had yet to receive the Enlightenment of the Stars Association.

Aside from Harriet and the elderly woman in the church, there had been plenty of other infected individuals in the square they passed earlier.

The ratio was alarmingly high.

Among them, Harriet had only fallen into The Sect’s grasp last night.

Rather than believe she was but a figment of the Nightmare creator’s imagination, Fu Qian leaned toward another possibility—that she, like him, had her true self caught here.

If that were the case, then one of the Nightmare’s possible purposes would be clear—an incubator.

During his nighttime patrol with Amila, The Sect had already made their view of the Nightmare explicitly clear.

The wicked existence infects dreamers, attempting to utilize them as vessels to breach the barrier between the Dreamscape and reality.

Could the corrupted individuals here be such seeds?

Placed within the incubator before them, cultivated together, with the ultimate aim—finding the source of evil.

As for himself specifically—finding the Dark Moon.

Fu Qian quickly formed a series of hypotheses.

If that were true, then The Sect’s plans concerning him suddenly made perfect sense.

The first was the Hunter’s sunrise testing, followed by the sacrificial pawn trial along the way.

After consecutive failures, the “Dark Moon” finally gained unprecedented attention from them, and they threw him into this incubator, hoping to uncover traces.

Precisely as I would wish.

I can only say that under sufficient provocation, The Sect’s cohesion was impeccable in its coordination, ultimately funneling all their resources into seeking the Dark Moon and the World Within the Painting.

However, two questions arose.

First, similar attempts had already been carried out by Reginald and his peers in the hospital treating Boiling Blood Syndrome—why did The Sect need to repeat it?

Second, why choose the mists?

Such a perilous maneuver was clearly riskier than attempts in the controlled environment of Leytin within The Sect’s grasp, yet they ventured here amid sacrificial pawns and watchful eyes?

At first listen, it doesn’t make much sense—but it isn’t entirely implausible—provided one breaks free of self-centered reasoning habits.

Could this unique Nightmare have initially been prepared not for me?

Was this location chosen because The Sect’s actual target was the sacrificial pawn, and I was merely sent here due to my increasingly perplexing behavior, joining some of my ilk?

And if the Nightmare born amidst the mists proved superior to those before it, a reiteration might indeed be worth trying.

Merely a speculative notion, but combined with information shared by Amila, it seemed clear that Lord Praut held considerable significance in this entire affair.

Ah—

In the midst of silent waiting, new commotions finally emerged.

Ear-piercing screams erupted from the onlooking crowd outside.

The victim was a balding middle-aged man who was frantically slapping the side of his neck.

A viscous, tar-like giant maw was biting into him, exposing teeth that resembled finger bones as it surged.

These teeth were clearly ill-suited for tearing through flesh, so the victim was temporarily able to continue screaming.

However, he appeared incapable of breaking free, as the maw’s serpent-like body extended downward, ultimately plunging into the base of his spinal column as if emerging from within.

Amid the dramatic scene, the crowd quickly retreated, leaving him alone by the square’s sole fountain.

Writhing in immense agony, his body curled into an unusual shape as he frantically rolled across the ground.

“Move aside!”

Like a bolt, a thunderous roar tore through the air, even overwhelming the cries.

Accompanied by the shout, another serpent streaked through, metallic in hue, gleaming as it coiled and soared forward.

In the instant they collided, the victim’s silhouette was engulfed by a fireball of the same hue.

Even before the flames had fully extinguished, three figures were already standing by the fountain.

Among them, Lord Reginald, having struck, glanced briefly at the remains on the ground but quickly dismissed them and instead looked upward toward him.

What had I said earlier? Other than arriving to hear the Gospel, this team’s alternatives were genuinely scarce.

Preparing to offer greetings, Fu Qian’s brow furrowed slightly as his ears tilted to listen.

It was… the sound of the Tide?