Apocalypse Forecast-Chapter 719 - 588: Theater Troupe_1

Two minutes later, in the dead silence, only faint vibrations and shouts could be heard from afar and from the lower levels.

The winding crimson flowed down the steps, dyeing the edges of the crack on the ground red.

Right beneath Huai Shi’s feet, the crack had already begun to heal and close, slowly writhing like a monster chewing food.

Gradually, the limbs and faces wriggling in the pitch-like viscous fluid could no longer be seen, and the wailing sounds drifted away.

Huai Shi had once tried to kill them, but they were completely connected with the entirety of the Eternal Frozen Heart. Even if they were pulled out, they would quickly collapse into ashes. Soon after, the remaining ashes would be pulled by an invisible force, return behind the fissure, and reassemble into a numb face...

Everything here was like this.

It simply couldn’t be destroyed completely.

The supreme achievement left by the Forgers of old used metals that were naturally the most precious and durable, even capable of extracting Source Substance for self-repair, rendering them nearly alive.

Now, these living metals linked them together, turning them into one body of despair...

Huai Shi took one last look at the crack behind him, stepped onto a higher floor, and made his way towards the very top.

As he gradually ascended, he reached the midsection of the high tower, where the architectural styles he saw became increasingly bizarre and beyond imagination.

The art from Hell was manifested here.

As the tower expanded and grew, even its walls could no longer cover the massively swelling heart of the furnace, revealing the peaceful and serene land outside.

In a world as beautiful as Paradise, the great hordes were still engaged in brutal slaughter, offering their crimson blood to the earth...

And Huai Shi continued to climb.

The higher he went, the more he realized that numerous detours were converging. It seemed that no matter which door he chose, he would reach the sole destination. All climbers would eventually gather at one point.

The enemies, too, became more numerous.

Not only were there the Sublimators of the Eye of Nightmare and Ivy Vine, but also their hired motley hordes, scholars, and alchemists. There were even War Machines left behind by the defeated Hell Workshop Master.

His pace of advance and ascent slowed, and the situation became increasingly tricky.

It was one battle after another, like the wails here, with no visible end...

「Two hours later.」

Huai Shi sat wearily on the steps, staring at the messy corpses before him, his fingers trembling slightly.

Too many battles, too many enemies; even the Soloist, adept at healing, felt an overwhelming weariness.

After using the last Source Substance supply from Ivy Vine, his energy was only barely restored.

The wounds on his arm had closed under the effect of the Silver Blood Potion, but the crisscrossing scars with metallic colors remained on his body, looking so grievous.

"How much further?" he wondered aloud.

He leaned against a column, gazing at the ceiling above.

The severely depleted Frost Giants beside him did not respond. They only silently sharpened their weapons, seizing the time to rest, waiting for the next departure, or for the enemies to appear once again.

Looking upward from the cracked edge of the tower, the top seemed suspended high above, not having drawn closer by even an inch, as if he had been treading in place all along.

This climb was too long; he was nearing exhaustion.

As if afraid he would feel lonely, the sound of iron boots scraping against the floor rose again from the stairs below. The deep, overlapping footsteps of the Eye of Nightmare echoed.

Beside Huai Shi, the Frost Giants who had been sitting on the ground slowly got up, hoisted their heavy weapons, and turned to look toward the entrance. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

There, a full ten-person squad from the Eye of Nightmare slowly ascended the stairs, their armor covered with slash marks and exuding a bloodthirsty aura.

The emblems of the Eye of Nightmare on their shoulders and shields slowly activated, glowing a blood-red light.

They adopted a charging stance and strode forward.

The battle began!

Huai Shi sighed. Propping himself up with the Sword of Virtue, he rose slowly.

He raised the sword blade, pointing it towards the enemy.

No further orders or words were needed; the Frost Giants were already charging at the enemy through the icy winds, their axes cutting through the air and clashing with steel.

A deafening crash erupted.

Dodging the cursed arrows flying from behind a shield, Huai Shi stepped forward. He deftly turned his body around an incoming sword blade, his palm already pressed against the attacker’s helmet.

In that instant, a sound like a sweeping torrent erupted from his slender fingers.

It was the sound of blood rushing fiercely.

Rushing through delicate veins, merging, it unleashed a genuine thunderclap!

The Heaven Drum sounded.

—Drummer!

The terrifying power, comparable to a pile driver, exploded from his palm. The brutal force sent the opponent flying backward, knocking down several teammates and smashing him into the wall, unable to move.

The sinister helmet swiftly shattered, revealing the rough, indifferent face beneath, as calm as ever.

Even as Huai Shi advanced with his sword, the man showed not the slightest hint of agitation. Resigned, he faced death.

Yet Huai Shi’s footsteps hesitated for an instant. Scrutinizing the man’s face, he suddenly asked, "What’s your name?"

The Sublimator from the Eye of Nightmare furrowed his brow but did not speak, his eyes drooping, waiting for death.

"Can’t speak? Are you unwilling to bother with me, or... are you simply unable to speak?"

Amidst the noisy clamor, Huai Shi’s calm voice carried, "Half an hour ago, it seems, I already killed you once... Don’t you remember?"

The mercenary from the Eye of Nightmare was stunned. Then, as if finally recalling something, his complexion turned pale. He was stupefied for a moment, as if he too couldn’t believe it.

"Remembering the people you’ve killed is a good habit, isn’t it?"

Huai Shi looked around, disregarding the surrounding melee, stroking his chin in thought. So, have I been pulled into some kind of illusion? No, unless it’s an illusion by a Crowned, it shouldn’t affect me. The Mirror of Nothingness didn’t see anything either... So, what is this? Some effect created by this high tower through a Border Relic? To affect so many people, it must be approaching the level of a Miracle Imprint, right? To possess such completeness, there must also be laws and mystic rituals involved. It’s not yet at the level of a Creator or a Great Grandmaster. This kind of technical ability... Ivy Vine? Let me think...

After a moment’s pondering, he raised his head and softly asked, "If I’m not mistaken, this should be the ’Theater’s’ trick, right?"

With his words, the fighting came to an end.

All the members of the Eye of Nightmare halted their actions. Then, as if awakening from a dream, they finally realized where they were.

Looking around in a daze, they slowly dissipated into the air, never to be seen again.

Meanwhile, the scenery of the surrounding high tower was rapidly changing. Glittering decorations materialized from thin air, along with splendid murals, heavy drapes, suspended crystal chandeliers, and other furnishings...

It was as if, in an instant, he had arrived on some stage.

What met his eyes was an incredibly lavish theater, difficult to describe in words. Outside the stage, in the semicircular auditorium, countless seats were filled to capacity.

Numerous phantom figures were peering through elegant opera glasses.

The sounds of jeering rose and fell.

They were clearly annoyed at Huai Shi, the actor, for breaking the fourth wall on his own accord.

Darkness suddenly enveloped Huai Shi’s surroundings. In the dark, a beam of light abruptly shone down, illuminating an old man standing there. He wore a mask and had changed back into lavish but tasteless finery, his fingers adorned with precious rings.

"Pant Delong," he introduced himself.

Then, a second beam of light fell upon a man clothed in scholar’s attire, wearing a tall hat and glasses. He introduced himself, "Doctor."

Next was the Major, the Harry Quinn he had seen before.

Then, a lady in a whalebone long skirt, elegant and beautiful behind her mask, emerged from the light. She curtsied slightly, "It’s a pleasure to meet you for the first time, Mr. Huai Shi. I am Isabella."

Finally, a young farmer in plain clothes, looking weary from labor, appeared.

"My name is Piero."

Apart from the other four members who were far away in Current Circumstances, now in the Town of Dusk, more than half of the ’Theater’ had arrived here, standing before Huai Shi.

The stingy rich man, the ignorant doctor, the cowardly major, the flamboyant servant, the vain lady, the sly farmer...

The pillars sustaining the story had been erected; the characters made their entrance.

They had become Huai Shi’s enemies.

Huai Shi raised an eyebrow, lamenting, "Honestly, I thought it would be Liz."

"Liz won’t come here, Huai Shi. You needn’t worry about her hiding somewhere, preparing to ambush you."

Pant Delong raised his hand, tipping the brim of his hat, and said solemnly, "When students step onto the battlefield, their teachers should also do their best to pave the way for their future, removing a few small obstacles... Before you now stands only us, only the Theater."

Huai Shi couldn’t help but shake his head. "Ganging up on someone while spouting such righteous words... How do you manage to say something so despicable with such a straight face?"

"We have no choice. Just as some Stigmas are especially good at combat, others are especially bad at it," Pant Delong responded leisurely, "Unlike other Stigmas, the Theater’s Stigma requires considerable preparation to be effective. In normal times, it’s almost useless... After all, most of us are teachers and scholars by profession, not adept at fighting and killing. So, when we must fight, we try to use overwhelming numbers, just as we are now..."

Before his words could finish, Huai Shi, without warning, drew The Fly King, aiming it at Pant Delong’s face.

Repeating an old trick, he pulled the trigger.

Ultra Miniature Judgment Institution: The Fly King—Maximum output, Release!

The blinding column of light silently shot out at that moment, bearing fierce heat, ripping through the wrinkled face, piercing his body, and then soared beyond the theater.