Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 246: Pure Land Section (Eight)



One more bizarre than the next!

Watching the lady converse with the void, Fu Qian shook his head and then walked up without hesitation.

Red hair, brown eyes, attractive features, but her face showed signs of aging; she must be approaching middle age.

Her dark-colored gown had a low-cut neckline, which made her fair, delicate skin stand out even more.

Even when Fu Qian stood next to her, she remained completely oblivious, casually chatting with the “person” in front of her.

The red-haired lady’s expressions while speaking were so natural that one couldn’t help but wonder if there really was an unseen person there.

Without hurrying to interrupt, Fu Qian first listened quietly for a while by her side.

From the lady’s words, it could be known that the person in front of her was named Nate, who had lost his only child half a year ago and had since been immersed in sorrow.

She was constantly encouraging him that the departed are gone and that he should look forward and enjoy life.

“In fact, you’ve been looking a lot better recently, and moderate drinking is good for you!”

At the end, she earnestly sized up the void, her tone quite satisfied.

“You’re absolutely right.”

Just then, Fu Qian seized the opportunity to step forward, standing beside the red-haired lady, also speaking to the air, even raising his glass.

“Wine is a balm for healing.”

Observing her unusual behavior, Fu Qian had thoughts of further testing to see how these actors could be awakened from their “performance.”

However, even though he joined the conversation so naturally, the red-haired lady still didn’t react at all, seemingly completely unaware of the person now at her side, and she continued her conversation with Nate.

Still not working, huh?

Fu Qian nodded, not surprised, but he didn’t give up.

After a moment’s thought, he directly took a wine glass and placed it in the red-haired lady’s hand.

“Your wine is here, my lady.”

Faced with the sudden thrusting of a wine glass into her hand, the woman’s expression clearly showed some resistance, as if she instinctively wanted to throw it away.

At the same time, she still ignored Fu Qian.

However, Fu Qian was not going to let her go so easily, rudely taking her hand from the outside, ensuring she held the wine glass tightly.

“I was a bit thirsty earlier and took a sip; I hope you don’t mind.”

After making her look at the wine glass with only remnants left, Fu Qian continued.

Forced to stare at the wine glass in her hand, about ten seconds passed before the lady’s face finally changed, showing a flicker of loathing and disgust.

Ah!

The next moment, she suddenly let out a scream and violently shook off Fu Qian’s hand.

Clang!

The exquisite wine glass was smashed onto the smooth floor, shattering instantly.

In the next moment, that crisp sound seemed to startle everyone in the room awake.

The guests, who until now had been oblivious to Fu Qian, almost simultaneously turned their gaze toward him.

Is this what “waking up” looks like?

Fu Qian glanced at the now responsive crowd and then looked down at his hand, recalling the recent experience.

Normally, an average person wouldn’t be able to shake off his hand.

The fact that the red-haired lady was able to do it just now wasn’t because of sudden superhuman strength, but rather at that instant, his own strength seemed to have lessened.

Yes, when she managed to shake his hand off, Fu Qian noticed that he seemed to have regressed to the level of an average person.

The disparity in strength was still huge, but it was no longer the difference between a god and a mortal.

This strange phenomenon aroused his curiosity, and he let go, following the flow of events.

Looking at the red-haired lady who had jumped to one side, Fu Qian confirmed that the state of this group of “actors” was truly out of the ordinary.

“Don’t worry, Lady Grace.”

It was at that moment Dean Collins’s voice came from the crowd.

“My people spotted him early on, this assassin sneaked into our banquet, attempting to poison us.”

As he spoke, Dean Collins moved through the crowd to come forward, his tone absolutely certain.

“As for him, I had a gift prepared long ago.”

Upon finishing his words, Dean Collins directly picked up something from beside him.

Fu Qian recognized it immediately—it was a crossbow, already strung.

Still feels half asleep, huh!

Targeted by the cold gleam of the crossbow bolt, Fu Qian’s attention was not on it; instead, he closely observed the surrounding guests.

The expressions on these people’s faces remained a bizarre mix of sanctity and filth, as if they were still in a play.

Only the script had changed.

Fu Qian blinked. He could not possibly believe Dean Collins’s prepared excuse, much less the ridiculous talk of a poison assassin.

The man’s words seemed more like the invention of a story, writing himself into it.

So now I’m a prop in a play?

Fu Qian seemed to grasp his situation.

However, the next moment, without giving Fu Qian a chance to speak, Dean Collins pulled the trigger.

A flash of cold light.

Such an attack, normally, posed no threat to Fu Qian.

After breaking contact with Grace, his abilities had instantly recovered.

With his speed, dodging this crossbow bolt would have been effortless.

The next moment, blood splattered.

Fu Qian looked at the hole in his palm, from which blood trickled out.

Yes, he hadn’t dodged.

It wasn’t due to carelessness, but deliberate.

After ascertaining the direction of the bolt, Fu Qian first dodged the vital parts, then directly caught it with his hand.

Because he was curious about what would happen after being hit.

Normally, such a weapon shouldn’t even be able to pierce his skin.

Yet at that moment, it shot right through his palm, leaving a gaping bloody hole.

Just as if it had hit the hand of an ordinary person.

Incredible!

Not only that, the area around the wound seemed to be affected by some special force, slowing the healing process far below the usual rate.

It seems I know how Herrom died.

Fu Qian murmured with his head down.

These actors in the play seemed to always be under some peculiar protection, able to ignore Transcendent powers.

In their presence, even a mighty Demigod could be wounded like an ordinary person.

If Herrom, unknowing, accidentally suffered a similar strike to a vital spot…

Then the fall of a mighty Demigod at the hands of ordinary people truly might not be impossible.

The only regret was that he still didn’t know where Herrom’s corpse was.

“Catch him.”

Seeing the injured Fu Qian, Dean Collins snorted and led the people to surround him.

“Where is Herrom’s corpse?”

The next moment, Fu Qian looked at the crowd with a calm expression and suddenly asked.

“Give up your struggle, you have nowhere to escape!”

As expected, Dean Collins ignored his question, still reading his lines of judgment.

Indeed, anything unrelated to their ‘script’ was naturally filtered out.

Fu Qian confirmed his speculation.


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