Appearing to crush that fluid humanoid was certainly not out of offense.
Others might not notice, but Fu Qian’s sharp eyes were as precise as always.
Although the opponent had grown larger, it still fell slightly short of matching his height.
The talk of looking eye-to-eye—merely an excuse to accuse.
Staying true to intentions, one finds their way in the end.
After a series of prior actions, confirming the partner’s sincerity and commitment, Fu Qian set a clear project goal—conduct testing and maximize efforts to seek traces of the Dark Moon.
If the Dark Moon could indeed be found, it would offer some degree of proof supporting the realities of Leytin and the mist.
It would also confirm the most pessimistic possibility regarding the Pontiff.
It was almost certain that the Celestial Sphere Sect had trapped him within this Nightmare for that very purpose, though their exact operational methods were something even Amila and the others couldn’t comprehend.
There was reason to suspect that this was precisely why the Sect didn’t reveal more to them.
The more unnecessary informed parties there were, the higher the chance that interference would arise in the testing.
Given this situation, Fu Qian opted for independent observation and deduction.
For instance, Harriet and that fluid humanoid from earlier.
The former’s condition was clearly far worse than when he had last seen her, whereas the oppressive force that rapidly surged from the humanoid upon being stimulated was equally abnormal.
The Nightmare meticulously crafted by the Sect truly seemed like a nursery bed for cultivating “pollution,” capable of directly reflecting its origins.
If that were the case, theoretically, traces of the Dark Moon should have surfaced more frequently for someone like himself, perpetually in the Frostburn State—yet they hadn’t.
Even up until now, Fu Qian still hadn’t observed even the faintest sign of such anomalies.
Confronted with this reality, his choice was to increase his activity, directly confronting another source of pollution.
And all this was done in front of a sensitive detector.
To maximize his own likelihood of “exposure.”
…
It was visible that Fu Qian’s questions confused more than one audience member.
“I can’t quite ascertain the standards you’re using to assess yourself.”
Amid this collective puzzlement, the Hunter Simon paused briefly before finally responding.
“But from my perspective, your condition seems stable, including your mental state.”
So he could still manage that sardonic tone—old Simon hadn’t completely lost his humanity after all.
As Fu Qian noted this with mild amusement, a sigh still welled up in his heart.
Even under such conditions, this highly sensitive individual hadn’t detected anything unusual within him?
Were his assumptions wrong? Did the Dark Moon not exist in this world?
“Thank you.”
Without drawing hasty conclusions, Fu Qian replied politely and then turned to survey the surroundings.
“My earlier invitation still stands; you are all welcome to visit my chapel anytime… you included.”
Having said this, without waiting for the crowd’s reactions, Fu Qian walked into the gate, once more taking his seat at the pulpit.
…
The exchange that had just concluded clearly left Amila and the others perplexed.
The erratic Dark Moon Apostle’s words and actions were utterly unpredictable, his intentions entirely unfathomable.
But one thing was clear—his enormous figure contained a power formidable enough to defy common sense.
Staring at the deep crater left by his stomp, Reginald, now with only one leg remaining, clutched a nearby pillar to maintain balance and finally swept off the muck clinging to his body.
“What’s our next move? Everyone inside seems to be in an unstable state.”
As he spoke, his gaze scanned the surroundings.
Despite the violent spectacle earlier, the plaza’s crowd, already deep in chaos, hadn’t continued their frantic flight.
Many were even contemplating the open chapel doors, their expressions thoughtful.
Evidently, the final invitation included them as well.
“It feels like another mutation could occur at any moment.”
Tending to both her injuries and Reginald’s, Amila expressed agreement with his viewpoint, albeit in a more pessimistic tone.
“Our conditions are terrible. If something like earlier happens again, I doubt we could handle it… Should we really hide in there?”
“What would be the point?”
Clearly, Reginald had already considered Amila’s suggestion and turned to glance behind him.
“While we might not be able to escape on our own, if this truly is a dream, dying would most likely wake us up.”
“Not to mention, in a little while, the inside might end up being more dangerous than out here.”