Chapter 1308: 1306: Double Click

Chapter 1308: Chapter 1306: Double Click

This…

The dreamlike appearance and the bone-chilling cold, after the tempering from prior encounters, Amila’s group already possessed a certain level of resistance.

Yet the “Dark Moon” once again displayed its authority of creating something out of nothing, deeply shaking them once more.

Clearly an empty weapon, yet capable of unleashing such an attack. For a moment, excluding Simon, the other two halted in their tracks, their gazes following the Frost Spear as it whistled through the air.

The spear only flew a few meters before seemingly hitting an invisible target, perfectly within the range of its shot.

The clarity of the shattering sound was followed by the spear breaking inch by inch, white frost spreading forth.

At the same moment, two more holes appeared on Fu Qian’s body.

The opponent seemed to still have strength left for retaliation.

However, even so, the increasingly dense mist mingled with white frost revealed no suspicious outlines.

The sole disturbance was a Broad Sword veined with blazing Lead Flame.

Simon finally arrived, attacking without hesitation.

But faster yet was another streak of icy light, surpassing his blow and once again scattering white frost.

When the Broad Sword finally slashed through the Void, the forceful strike seemed entirely unimpeded, as if merely slicing through empty air.

…

Whoosh—

Only now did Fu Qian lower the gun barrel and blow on it lightly.

Not intending to steal Simon’s claim to victory, his firearm aligned with Raphaide’s standard-issue design—a peculiar creation, such as dual barrels.

To uphold the rigor of Dark Moon’s grace, after firing the first shot, he smoothly and skillfully pulled the second trigger.

The ultimate outcome was the consecutive launch of two Frost Spears—two Frostburn-imbued Air Bullets that swiftly eliminated the target.

Whoosh—

Of course, rigor must persist from start to finish. Fu Qian then adjusted his angle and puffed lightly on the second barrel.

…

“Shall we continue?”

The two dramatic breaths silenced the group, but Fu Qian remained faithful to his promise, scanning the group while asking.

Simon, who had slashed into nothingness, quietly retracted his weapon, its Lead Flame extinguishing in tandem.

Amila and Reginald exchanged glances, with neither voicing dissent, while their gazes instinctively drifted toward Fu Qian’s numerous body piercings.

Yet within mere seconds, Fu Qian’s body began rapidly healing.

As he deactivated the Decree Residue, the pervasive cold retreated, leaving virtually no trace of the puncture wounds.

“Continue.”

Simon finally nodded slightly, while Amila and the other two followed silently.

The opponent didn’t seize the chance to preach any “Dark Moon’s protection,” but from start to finish, Fu Qian’s performance, akin to that of a War God, truly shattered their understanding.

“It’s gratifying to see you all beginning to let go of prejudice.”

As a Lost Shepherd, Fu Qian gave timely encouragement and praise.

At the same time, he extended his hand, and amidst fragmented sounds, countless tiny shards cascaded from the old firearm that had just secured victory.

Like the Gorgeous Rapier before it, the gun seemed equally unable to withstand the icy gift bestowed upon it, ultimately breaking apart.

Within just a few steps, the entire firearm had been completely laid down upon the narrow path.

Of course, the gun itself wasn’t truly fragile—the phenomenon had been orchestrated by Fu Qian for dramatic effect.

From start to finish, he had been unreservedly spreading the Gospel of Dark Moon.

As for whether this might appear overly conspicuous and arouse suspicion?

Apologies: great faith shines brightly.

Hiding and skulking around like Harriet—that wouldn’t convey its distinctiveness.

…

Perhaps due to Fu Qian’s two stunning displays, the Dark Moon’s awe seemed to ripple even into the Abandoned Child Realm.

The journey ahead was notably calmer by comparison.

Apart from increasingly degraded paths, there were no untraceable assaults to be found.

The group’s main focus shifted almost exclusively to discerning the road.

“It’s just ahead.”

Amila’s description was indeed accurate; walking along the path, they encountered no diversions.

Upon detecting a sizeable stretch of rubble along the roadside, Amila’s spirits lifted as she broke the silence.

This leg of the journey’s trial seemed to be nearing its conclusion.

“Let’s pick up the pace. None of you have even had breakfast yet.”

Fu Qian nodded lightly, exuding an unusually affable demeanor.

The guy still remembered that detail!

His suggestion lacked any hint of urgency, which Amila found satisfactory—even if the reasoning itself was rather peculiar.

Especially with Fu Qian constantly referring to himself as a Shepherd… Momentarily, Amila couldn’t shake the unsettling image of being herded to graze.

“Just a few more minutes, and we should officially arrive at the town. Although this last stretch has been relatively peaceful, let’s remain vigilant.”

Unwilling to engage with Fu Qian further, Amila inhaled deeply and advanced to scout ahead, her pessimism about breakfast evidently unshaken.

“Wait, what’s this—”

Yet mere breaths into her cautionary advice, one more step into the dense fog, Amila suddenly froze.

…

In a flash, the thick mist dissipated.

Beneath their feet stretched a path, narrow but smooth, its end obstructed by a black gate.

Beyond the gate, wooden structures lined an orderly array, basking in a warm morning glow.

Though not pristine, the town appeared intact.

“How could this be…”

Even Reginald voiced similar disbelief, seemingly taken aback by the scene.

Upon realizing what had happened, the two swiftly looked back—and just like when they’d first stepped into the fog, the distinction was sharp as ever.

This small town seemed to have been spared from the mist, much like Leytin.

Turning their gaze toward Simon, they found no reaction from him.

Such was the Hunter’s demeanor… Amila and Reginald exchanged looks again, tacitly setting aside their doubts as they pressed onwards.

“Mr. Anke, it appears the situation wasn’t as dire as we thought. We might actually make it to breakfast.”

Amila even cracked a joke, gesturing for Fu Qian to follow.

“Indeed, it feels like a Nightmare giving way to reality’s Misalignment.”

Gazing ahead, Fu Qian sounded deeply reflective.

“Of course, according to Sanctuary’s wisdom, it’s actually reality entering the Nightmare.”

He referred, naturally, to the Sanctuary’s belief that “all things in the mist are real,” a notion Amila and Reginald’s grasp of left them momentarily speechless.

Thankfully, Fu Qian required no response; as he spoke, he strode up to the black iron gate and gave it a soft pat.

The reason for this lack of need was simple: Fu Qian was acutely aware that his own body still stood at the fog’s border.

Reality entering the Nightmare—the statement had not been a mere jest.

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