Indeed, filters are very important.
Everything seems unchanged, yet everything seems different.
As the great sword delved into the red sand, the entire nightmare’s perception took on a completely different form.
Although theoretically, the only changes were slightly dimr light and slightly cooler temperature.
But at a glance, the scene forrly filled with the rotting remnants of the Dead Sea, twisted and decaying, suddenly exuded a sense of desolation akin to lying on Pluto.
As for the headless armor kneeling there, it seed more like a figurine executed and abandoned in deep space.
Regarding the executioners, undoubtedly, it was the Witch and myself alongside .
Though she no longer held a deadly weapon, her aura and nonchalance easily conveyed what it ant to be a ruler.
As he admired this, Fu Qian glanced at the heavy helt in his hands and stepped forward with an accomplice’s grace, hanging it on the great sword’s hilt.
"Where do you want to go next?"
Watching his every move, the Mistress of this realm’s Witch spoke.
"Can I go anywhere?"
Fu Qian blinked and asked in return, knowing that the cost was minimal for her.
"In a way, you could say so. After all, the mind may be fragile and changeable, yet it easily blurs boundaries, allowing you to reach anywhere in Rielertin from here without taking a carriage."
As she spoke, the Witch waved her hand.
A strange sound echoed, and the red sand beneath began to flow once more, in more than one place.
For a mont, Fu Qian stepped back, examining the spot where he stood, where a tombstone-like mound erged like after a spring rain.
Indeed, not only large in size but also quite familiar, the stones that broke through the sand were clearly the ones originally visible in the Underground Ruins.
This one was of ordinary size; further away, the kind carried by the giant king was equally conspicuous.
Though the shapes were similar, the contents on them had changed sowhat.
So splattered with bloodstains, others covered with fragnted scratches, and so entirely fossil-like, displaying bizarre creature patterns...
In the blink of an eye, the surroundings had already beco shrouded in grave-like atmosphere.
"This is the place we arrived at earlier."
Instantly, the Witch pointed to one, even acting as a guide.
"This should be the ntal hospital where you stayed."
After pondering for a while, she gestured to one on the side.
In Fu Qian’s view, she seed to recognize them not based on their content but through sensing them, like listening to the sounds behind a door.
...
So, has the passage taken this abstract form of tombstones, allowing teleportation with a touch?
The statent earlier, combined with this explanation, seed quite clear to Fu Qian.
This place is undeniably fragile, and its dangerous state of balance—a miracle to have maintained for so many years.
And being prone to blur boundaries goes without saying, wasn’t it just like how Lady Xia veered off course upon descending?
However, combining these two notions had sparked a flash of insight in Fu Qian.
The mind easily blurs boundaries—the Witch’s words clearly addressed the performance of this nightmare.
But wasn’t he just contemplating the Sea of Souls’ vulnerability to a Superior Being, its capability to connect so many places?
Could it be blurring boundaries exist not just between reality and unreality, but other concepts as well?
And by similar ans, creating certain special passages leading to the Unseen Hillock, Akons, the Land of Fallen Gods—even to wherever that blood-drained body reached?
A glance at the armor amidst the tombstone forest, Fu Qian faintly guessed the significance of the Sea of Souls in this ritual— he needed it to connect to a particular place during the ceremony.
And ultimately, leaving this excretion behind while the purer flesh reached that place.
"As for that, it should be the underground base of the Fallen Stars, so where do you want to go?"
At this mont, the Witch chose not to introduce each one. Seeing Fu Qian’s lack of interest in the ones ahead, she simply left him to ponder alone.
"Isn’t it obvious? Of course, back to the West District Church."
Hearing this, Fu Qian rely skimd over each tombstone, rejecting them all.
"Look at the ti, after all this hard work, it’s ti to clock out and have so tea."
...
Huh?
It was clear, even the Witch was sowhat surprised this ti.
Clearly, Rielertin had no West District Church; it only existed in the Doomsday of reality and within painted Leytin, and the forr clearly lacked a place for tea.
"You’re not in a rush?"
The Witch who had driven exploration efficiently was suddenly curious about the Knight’s plan.
Although "stronger," certain negative effects accumulated over ti couldn’t be avoided after forcefully arriving here, not to ntion there were sensory limitations now.
To avoid unnecessary danger, theoretically, the faster the actions, the better, like last ti, minimizing the ti spent here.
Though they had chatted and even discussed shapes earnestly earlier on, she never wavered in advancing the main task.
"Not in a rush."
Yet the Knight of the Dark Moon simply nodded.
"On one hand, I have accumulated rich successful experiences; on the other, I have thoughts of lingering a bit longer this ti, catching up with old friends."
Fu Qian spoke sincerely.
The Nightmare Corridor was always a location that piqued his deep interest.
No matter how eerie, no matter how high a certain big shot’s hatred towards him was, one point made it undeniable—it had to do with his ability to descend to this place.
What about the forr Dark Moon? And the law core jumping around?
Could their passages be similar?
If so, wandering around inside might help unveil the secret of the Long Night.
He had planned the return arrangents from the mont they embarked on the journey.
And considering Brother Interlocutor or His Excellency Alarakir, his current situation might frighten them away, accumulating a bit more negative effect wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.
"I see... then you should take so rest; after all, there isn’t much to see in Rielertin for now."
Having such an unrestrained idea, the Witch, initially surprised, quickly assud a more relaxed deanor, having no objections to the clocking-out remark.
Before she even finished speaking, the red sand, tombstones, and armor had already quietly disappeared.
When the scene reappeared, the light had turned brighter.
...
The hall, shared seat.
Before him was undeniably painted Leytin, the top floor of the West District Church.
"So, have you decided on where to have tea?"
Leaning against the main seat, the Witch rested her face on her hand, the brain fork still lodged, yet she already cared about the activity plans.
"Of course."
How could such a thing be unplanned? The First Apostle’s head nodded imdiately.
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