landbeastnovel Chapter 507, Section 516: Breaking Through the Dream
Chapter 507, Section 516: Breaking Through the Dream
Chapter 507, Section 516: Breaking Through the Dream (Part 9)
The system hasn't appeared for a long time.
Aside from reminding the protagonist of his increased magic proficiency, Ian hasn't been triggering this system much lately. However, his gains this time are indeed worthy of the system's notification.
The ancient fire within him, which had been devoured and accumulated in his dreams, did not subside or backfire after losing the constraints of the dream dimension and the direct confrontation with the will of Cthulhu. Instead, it rapidly merged, collapsed, and underwent a qualitative change with his own soul, will, and the remnants of the "Dark Emperor's" illusion!
[WARNING! Extremely high concentration of unknown chaotic energy deeply integrated!]
[Integration Completion Assessment — Error! Reassess —]
[Warning! The host's life form has undergone a fundamental leap!]
[Legendary Proof Generating—]
[Generation complete!]
[Authority: The fire of the past has been acquired.]
[Description: A unique authority formed from the corrosive energy originating from the essence of the Great Old Ones' dream world, forcibly devoured, transformed, and redefined through the special fantasy anchor "Dark Tiga".]
This authority possesses some characteristics of "corruption," "chaotic assimilation," and "spiritual destruction," but it is subject to the constraints and control of the host's core will.
[Current authority integrity: 37%, can be increased.]
[Host status update: Life level upgraded to "Undefeated Legend", overall energy level assessment greatly increased.]
]
A series of cold, rapid, and even unusually disorienting system prompts flashed through the depths of his mind, but he had almost no time to look at them closely.
"The Undefeated Legend".
Ian murmured softly.
power.
An unprecedented power surged through his blood vessels, nerves, and even every cell.
That wasn't just brute force, but a more fundamental sense of power, as if it could interfere with the rules of reality. With a slight thought, he raised his right hand.
"laugh"
A wisp of flame silently ignited at his fingertips.
Its color is a deep, dark green, but at its core, a touch of pitch black, belonging to its dark energy, pulses within.
It burns quietly, without emitting any heat, but the air around the fingertips has an eerie distortion and fading, as if existence itself is being slowly "wiped away".
The flames swirled gently, changing shape with his will, sometimes coiling like a snake, sometimes blooming like a flower.
He could feel the terrifying corrosive power contained within it; if he so desired, this flame could drag any matter, energy, or even fragile soul it touched into an abyss of chaos and collapse.
This is his strength.
It was taken from Cthulhu, but now it bears his mark as "Ian".
"This means that all my magic can carry this authority, and even the most basic magic can have the effect of corrupting and polluting the opponent's magic power."
"Even ordinary legends are not immune." Before his elation could even rise, a violent tremor beneath his feet abruptly pulled Ian's consciousness back to reality.
No, not underfoot.
The entire space, the entire city of R'lyeh, was shaking!
"Boom—!!!"
A deafening roar, more real and terrifying than a shattered dream, came from all directions, like trillions of tons of seawater roaring overhead, or like the earth's tectonic plates howling and cracking.
The ancient palace he was in shook violently, the profane stone pillars groaned under the weight, and huge stones began to fall from above and crash to the ground.
"Pfft~"
The stones splashed up a thick, salty liquid.
"Pfft pfft pfft pfft~"
The green mist churned violently, as if boiling.
In the distance, in the dark depths of the sea, a sound so muffled it could stop your heart—a churning, guttural thud—came from within. There was also the deafening crash of breaking chains and the thunderous roar of rocks being crushed.
"Are you awake?"
Ian felt the fullness and sense of control brought about by the intertwining of old and new powers within his body. His gaze pierced through the pervasive green mist and the collapsing rubble, looking towards the very core of the vibrations and sounds.
R'lyeh is awakening.
Or rather, it was its master, an Old One who was forcibly torn from his slumber, suffered a backlash, and lost a portion of his essential power.
Cthulhu.
In its boundless rage and agony, it truly moved in the dimension of reality.
The darkness in the distance—not the darkness of lacking light, but the shadow cast by the very "existence" of some colossal being—began to expand and rise. A green, mountain-like outline slowly and irresistibly emerged against the backdrop of churning mist and crumbling city-states.
First, there are countless, wriggling, enormous tentacles, each comparable to a skyscraper, covered with suckers and unnatural wart-like growths.
They were stirring up the icy seawater and mist. Then, the outline of an even larger, scaled and slimy body emerged, like a nightmare mountain range that had been sleeping for millions of years rising up.
"Boom!"
Then, the pair of enormous wings, folded together like a mixture of leather and bat wings, slowly unfurled in the shadows, even though they were submerged in the deep sea.
Yet it brought with it a suffocating, overwhelming feeling. Finally, at the very top of that outline, two incredibly deep, incredibly crazed "gazes," burning with eerie green flames, like stars rising from the deepest depths of hell, pierced through endless distance and barriers, fixing on it with deadly precision—
They've locked onto Ian.
In that gaze was the rage that had not been fully unleashed in the dream, now tangible; the cold pain of having one's power stolen; and the hatred for this ant that dared to harm and violate its sacred slumber.
It contains the purest and most brutal killing intent.
This moment.
Cthulhu has awakened.
Right before Ian, in the real city of R'lyeh, it revealed its terrifying form, even if only a part of it was revealed, enough to drive mortals mad.
The seawater, due to its movement, transformed into a raging eddy, and the city, under its majesty, collapsed at an accelerated pace.
"It's normal for bosses to have two phases."
Ian stood amidst the ruins and fallen stones, a dark green flame burning quietly at his fingertips. He raised his head to meet the two destructive gazes.
The newly generated authority and legendary power within him operated silently.
The contest in the dream has ended.
The devastating chapter of reality has just begun.
"In reality, I will also be the one who wins in the end—I have already sealed that fate!" Ian stood on the cracked stone slab of R'lyeh, a wisp of dark green flame flickering at his fingertips, echoing the eerie green light emanating from the terrifying silhouette that blotted out the sky in the distance.
Yet they are clearly distinct.
"Boom! Boom boom boom!"
Cthulhu's awakening was not silent, but accompanied by the wailing of the entire dimension.
This ancient city, which had been asleep for countless years, was like a cookie being crushed by an invisible giant hand, with its magnificent, even blasphemous, buildings collapsing in droves.
Because Cthulhu has awakened.
The massive stone pillars, carved with non-Euclidean geometric shapes, broke and fell, crashing into the dark green seawater, which was churning with thick, foamy water of unknown depth.
It emitted a muffled, thunderous roar.
The surging seawater itself was also churning wildly, forming countless sucking and pulling whirlpools, and the air was filled with salty, rotten, and some other indescribable substance.
That was the scent of ancient dust, seemingly emanating from the ends of time and space.
Of course, what's even more deadly is the pervasive spiritual pollution.
Cthulhu merely exists here; it is merely the aftershock of its colossal will turning completely from its slumber into the real world that has transformed into a visible, viscous green mist.
"I'm in so much pain! Someone please help me!!"
"Ah! Praise be to the great Cthulhu!"
"Let us all succumb to this glorious evolution! Hehehehe!"
"Run! Run!"
The fog swirls, filled with the dying murmurs of billions of living beings, the cold mockery of the cosmos, and the jarring noise of all reason and logic being forcibly severed.
This is not merely sound; it is a scraping and erosion that directly affects the soul, attempting to drag any existence that still bears the mark of "order" into eternal, mad chaos.
of course.
It won't affect Ian.
and.
It also greatly benefited Ian.
"This wonderful taste!"
The new authority within Ian pulsed autonomously, like a greedy yet vigilant organ.
On the one hand, it resists external spiritual pollution that is of the same origin but full of hostility.
On the other hand, it seems to be subtly and almost instinctively "tasting" and "analyzing" the chaotic atmosphere that permeates the world, trying to extract the "nutrients" from it and make them its own.
It can be said.
Ian is now a humanoid Cthulhu-type life form. The contamination of Cthulhu no longer only fails to put pressure on him, but can even become nourishment for his growth and plunder.
"With the new Legendary Proof, who isn't a Great Old One?" The Legendary rank brings not only a surge in energy, but also a leap in the essence of life.
His senses became exceptionally sharp, and his mental energy flowed like mercury, or like an invisible, sophisticated radar, rapidly sweeping across the crumbling, fog-shrouded ruins of the city centered on him.
This moment.
Ian "saw" countless twisted and deformed deep-sea monsters.
They were once residents or guardians of R'lyeh, but now, under the majesty of the awakened Great Old Ones, they either cower in corners trembling wildly or burst into clumps of foul-smelling organic slurry.
He "saw" those things still functioning deep within the city.
Those blasphemous devices emitting ominous light maintained their bizarre function on the verge of collapse, seemingly resonating with some kind of rhythm of Cthulhu himself.
He also "saw" something further away: the colossal body, like a nightmare mountain range, rising completely from the deep-sea palace. The opening and closing of every scale, the writhing of every tentacle, stirred the boundary between reality and illusion, emanating a pure malice that could freeze the soul.
Look directly at Cthulhu.
There is no pressure yet.
Ian is probably the greatest person of all time.
Just like I said before.
The power plundered granted Ian the status of an [Old One], and of course, gazing upon his own kind wouldn't cause him any loss of sanity.
Ian was scanning for information about Cthulhu.
but.
His spiritual tendrils suddenly stopped, in a relatively remote place, in an area formed by collapsed buildings, in a semi-enclosed, twisted crevice in the stone.
He detected three soul fluctuations that stubbornly shimmered with a faint light of order.
"The people I just saved."
The light, like the last three candles in a stormy night, teetered on the brink of extinction amidst the boundless green mist and frantic whispers.
It's Saruman, Kag, and Lina.
they!
They still haven't escaped!
"Such short legs!"
Ian couldn't help but make a comment.
of course.
He understands.
The shattering of the Cthulhu Dream and the forced awakening of its true form occurred almost simultaneously, and the resulting spacetime turbulence and dimensional fluctuations were likely far more intense and chaotic than anticipated.
Although one of these three is a near-legendary expert, in this upheaval that involves the very foundation of the Old Ones, their limited spatial teleportation or defensive techniques would likely be torn apart or have their direction disrupted by the turbulent currents as soon as they were used, ultimately trapping them in this cage that is collapsing in the wrath of its master.
This is not the worst-case scenario.
What's worse is their current state.
Saruman, the young wizard who always exuded wisdom and a touch of arrogance, now leaned against the slippery, cold stone wall, his magnificent robes tattered and covered in slime and strange moss.
"Gibberish, gibberish." The gem at the tip of the bone staff in his hand was dim and cracked everywhere. His face was as pale as paper, veins bulging on his forehead, his eyes were tightly closed, but his lips were trembling rapidly involuntarily as he chanted some kind of protective or calming incantation.
But the effect was clearly minimal.
You can tell by looking at the situation.
The man's left arm was twisted unnaturally, and tiny, worm-like things seemed to be wriggling under his skin—a sign that his body was beginning to react distortedly to the crazy information.
And Kag.
The mighty warrior, now like a wounded beast, huddled inside the crevice, trying to shield his comrades behind him from the impact and flying debris with his broad back.
"Shut up! Aaaaah! Who's in my ears?!" His heavy armor, engraved with protective runes, was now dull and covered with dents and strange signs of corrosion. He covered his ears tightly with both hands, but blood still seeped from between his fingers and from his ear canals.
It then flowed down his rough cheeks.
"It's in my brain! Do I have to take my brain out?!" Kag's eyes were bloodshot, his pupils sometimes dilated to almost fill the entire white of his eyes, and sometimes shrank to pinpoints. His body convulsed uncontrollably, his muscles tensed, as if he was fiercely fighting against some alien force within him that wanted to break free.
The most heartbreaking case is Lina.
"I heard a forbidden melody."
The young prophetic priestess knelt on the ground, her body trembling violently. Her once clear eyes, which seemed to see into the future, were now just empty voids reflecting a maddening green light. The robe she wore, a symbol of her prophetic identity, had been torn in half by herself.
On the exposed skin, flowing dark green patterns emerged, vaguely similar to the blasphemous reliefs on the walls of R'lyeh. Clearly, Cthulhu had not given up on this priest.
"Get out!"
She opened her mouth, but couldn't utter a complete syllable; only strange, unintelligible syllables, mixed with sobs and eerie laughter, escaped from her throat.
"No! I refuse you! Monster!"
Lina possessed the highest spirituality and the most acute perception of Cthulhu, thus suffering the most severe mental shock and assimilation tendencies, almost reaching the brink of complete corruption.
Fortunately, her identity as the Raven Prophet granted her extraordinary resistance.
If not.
Lina is probably the kind of creature that instantly transforms into a deformed Cthulhu-like being. Currently, the raven's power is driving away the pollution for her, but Ian hasn't given her much of that power.
Confront the Old Ones.
As mortals.
Mutation is only a matter of time.
It wasn't just her.
The same applies to the other two.