The scene inside the city is quite different from that outside.
The ground beneath their feet was no longer charred black rock, but had transformed into massive stones with a dark green sheen and a rough, cold surface.
The city's architecture is right before your eyes, and its distorted, non-Euclidean geometric structure is even more mentally confusing.
The towers tilt at an angle that defies gravity, the arches twist into visceral shapes, and the Street are not straight but spiral and fold in a dizzying way, as if the entire spatial structure of the city is in disarray.
certainly.
Compared to this environment.
Even more shocking are the traces left by Ian's battle.
Huge craters are everywhere, with smooth edges as if they were instantly melted by high temperatures, or covered with irregular cracks, as if they were torn apart by a tremendous force.
Many of the twisted buildings bear clear signs of corrosion, and some areas are covered with a grayish-white substance that looks like ashes.
In some places, there were even remnants of a viscous substance, a black liquid that emitted a foul odor.
Of course, the most indispensable thing is the corpse.
All I saw was...
In the city.
Everywhere you look, there are all sorts of corpses that defy description.
Some looked as if all the moisture had been drained away, turning into shriveled scabbards covered in scales, twisted and curled up in a corner, their shapes vaguely resembling those of Deep Ones or even more bizarre hybrids.
Some were as if crushed by an invisible force, turning into a pile of flesh mixed with green slime and broken bone armor, emitting a nauseating stench. Others seemed to have been detonated from within by some force, exploding into countless fragments that emitted a faint phosphorescence, resembling decaying jellyfish.
They do not belong to humans.
These corpses came in all sorts of bizarre shapes, but without exception, they all exuded the same ancient and insane aura that was shared with the R'lyeh City itself.
They were clearly not any known creatures on Earth, nor even beings recorded in any known atlas of Magical Creatures —they were the enemies of that Legendary Wizard.
They are "residents" or, rather, "byproducts" of this crazy city.
"What a terrible place."
Saruman and Karg held their breath.
They moved cautiously among the strange corpses and architectural ruins.
"I feel like throwing up, it's so disgusting." Karg gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his palms sweating profusely. He had never seen such a bizarre and unsettling scene of death.
"These monsters are powerful, but their enemies are even stronger."
While remaining vigilant about potential dangers, Saruman quickly analyzed the energy traces remaining on the corpses, attempting to reconstruct the events of the battle.
"Most of them were instantly killed by that pure death Magic Power," Saruman whispered to Karg, pointing to a relatively well-preserved, mummified corpse that resembled a hybrid of a giant starfish and an octopus.
"Look, there's no sign of struggle; life was taken away in an instant."
He then pointed to another area, pitted and corroded, "This area—it looks like it was annihilated by some kind of strong acid or even more terrifying energy—"
They slowly advanced deeper into the city, following the direction in which the battle traces were most concentrated. The deeper they went, the more astonishing the extent of the destruction became, and the larger and more bizarre the corpses they encountered grew. They even saw a wreckage the size of a small mountain, covered with a thick carapace and countless tentacles.
Its head—if it could even be called a head—was shattered by a terrifying force, leaving green blood and brain matter congealed on the ground.
The scene was utterly astonishing. However, despite the devastation of battle and the bizarre corpses, they still couldn't find the Legendary Wizard.
There was no blood.
There were no pieces of torn clothing.
No trace of humankind was left behind. It was as if the being who unleashed earth-shattering magic and fought against countless terrifying beings had vanished into thin air after the battle ended.
Where are the others?
Karg couldn't help but ask in a low voice, his words ringing out clearly in the deathly silence of the Street, "Could it be—he was at the very end of the battle—?"
He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear: had that Legend perished together with the enemy?
Saruman shook his head, his brow furrowed.
"It doesn't seem like—if it were a mutual destruction, there should be stronger traces of energy annihilation and—remains. But now, there are only the corpses of those monsters. It's more like—he's gone."
"Left? Where did they go? Is there some kind of exit we don't know about?" Karg looked around, but he could see nothing but more twisted and unsettling buildings and monster corpses scattered all over the ground.
Saruman was also utterly perplexed. He cast several detection spells, trying to find any remnants of spatial fluctuations or any unusual Magic Power traces, but to no avail.
The chaotic energy field emanating from the R'lyeh City severely interfered with all detection spells, like searching for a specific note amidst a cacophony of noise.
Almost impossible.
That incredibly powerful Legend, who might be their only chance of survival, appeared suddenly and disappeared just as abruptly, leaving no trace.
hope.
It was as if a tiny flame had just been ignited, only to be mercilessly extinguished by the cold reality. The two stood on a small hill made up of monster remains, gazing at the deeper, darker city center ahead, which seemed to lead to the Earth's core or another dimension, and were plunged into a deep sense of bewilderment and powerlessness.
What's the next step?
"This place is definitely not a man-made city."
The two stood on a small hill made up of the remains of various indescribable monsters.
The thick, viscous, foul-smelling dark green and purplish-black liquid soaked through the soles of their boots. The air was thick with a nauseating stench of blood, decay, and a pungent smell reminiscent of burning ozone. Ahead, deep within the R'lyeh City, the scene grew even more eerie and terrifying.
"Indeed, no matter how crazy humans get, they can't create art like this." Karg deeply agreed with Saruman's assessment. The distortion of the buildings in the city far exceeded that of the outer areas. Huge green stones flowed and solidified like melting candles, forming countless illogical holes, vortices, and spikes.
Some building surfaces are covered with a thick layer of translucent material, like a biological mucus film, which pulsates and emits faint fluctuations of mental pollution.
It's like bacteria on some giant creature.
The further in you go...
The Street became narrower and more intricate, sometimes spiraling upwards, sometimes plunging steeply downwards, and some paths even disappeared directly into walls or ceilings.
It felt like stepping into another dimension.
The light became even dimmer here.
Only the ominous, dim glow emanating from the green stone itself, and the eerie phosphorescence from certain slime and corpse fragments, barely illuminated this nightmarish scene.
"Could it be that we're going to have to go in circles here too?" As the saying goes, once bitten by a snake, twice shy, and that's exactly the situation Karg is in now.
What happened after passing through the Infinite Corridor.
He's incredibly sensitive right now.
certainly.
Isn't Saruman the same?
He was also uneasy.
But he knew even more that he needed to force himself to think calmly.
"We have a map. Even if it might be a trap, we have no other choice." Saruman took a deep breath of the nauseating air, forcing himself to calm down, and unfolded the parchment again. The twisted lines seemed to come alive in the dim light, writhing slightly.
He carefully compared their approximate location—according to the map, they were near a "node" in the city's central area, marked by a twisted trident-like symbol and a teardrop-shaped marker of unknown significance.
"According to the map, there are three—or rather, three possible main paths—ahead." Saruman pointed to three distinct lines extending from the "trident" node on the parchment. "One is relatively straight," he said, pointing to the largest area on the map marked with a "door," but the path passed through an area marked with dense, jagged lines, which might indicate high danger or extreme spatial instability.
He is conducting an analysis.
The second path, winding and circuitous, bypasses several smaller nodes and eventually leads to the area of the door, but it is longer and passes through an area marked with a tentacle-like pattern.
Saruman's voice carried a hint of solemnity.
"The third path—" He paused, pointing to the shortest path, but one almost entirely covered by a chaotic spiral, "This path leads directly to the door." It's the shortest distance, but the map shows that the spatial structure of this area is extremely chaotic, perhaps even—an overlapping structure.
Although this is almost impossible in normal logic, normal logic has long since ceased to apply here, so things like common sense are meaningless.
"It's too complicated! I don't understand any of this. You know, I'm just a soldier." Karg looked at the dizzying map.
I just feel completely overwhelmed.
"You decide, Saruman. You're better at this than I am. Which one do you choose?" In the end, Karg decided to use Saruman, his external brain.
In their small team.
Normally, only Lina and Saruman are responsible for thinking, while Karg only needs to be their tool. Now, he has lost Lina, the brains.
Karg knew he could only rely on Saruman's intellect.
"I've always had bad luck. When I was a kid, I never picked the sweetest fruit," Karg said in a muffled voice, using his past experiences as evidence that he didn't need to use his brain.
Well, how should I put it?
People with bad luck are indeed not suited to make decisions.
That makes a lot of sense.
"We can't choose randomly, it's too dangerous." Saruman pondered for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the three options. The first path was clearly dangerous, but it might be the fastest; the second was relatively safe, but the journey was long and unpredictable; the third was pure gambling, a step towards heaven or a step towards hell.
Be aware of these things.
Saruman was also caught in a dilemma.
He pondered there for a long time.
"We can't waste time going around in circles." He finally pointed to the first option. " Lina and your situation are dire; we must find a way out as soon as possible. Choose the first option, go straight through the danger zone, and check the location of that door. Remain highly vigilant and be prepared for any attack."
Having made their decision, the two lingered. Saruman put away the map, and a steady white light shone from the tip of his staff, like a lighthouse in the darkness, dispelling the unsettling eerie green glow around them and calming their tense nerves to some extent. Karg gripped his greatsword tightly, carrying Lina on his back.
Like the most loyal shadow.
Following closely behind.
They embarked on the path marked "dangerous" on the map.
This so-called "relatively straight" path is actually full of mentally confusing twists and turns, and pollution is ubiquitous in the city.
That's why.
Saruman had to use more Magic Power.
Maintain your rationality.
Then, through the Dark Magic that connects her and Karg, she transmits this rationality to Karg.
This is not an easy task.
This was true for both Saruman and Karg.
They couldn't help but wonder if the so-called "straightness" was just a delusion for despairing people to comfort themselves—in every sense of the word. In this desolate land forgotten on the edge of the world, even straight lines had become part of the distortion of reality.
They took one step forward.
The ground beneath their feet seemed to be silently mocking their obsession.
"Damn it! This road looks perfectly normal!"
Sometimes the two had to climb smooth, sloping boulders, their surfaces gleaming with an eerie oiliness, like the skin of some living creature, writhing slightly in the moonlight; other times they had to squeeze sideways through narrow crevices, just wide enough for one person to pass through, the gaps crisscrossing like the ribs of a giant beast.
It was cold, damp, and reeked of a mixture of decay and sulfur. Each step felt like being slowly swallowed by some ancient being, suffocating you.
The surrounding buildings have long surpassed the geometric laws of human understanding. They are not made of bricks and stones, but rather seem to be nightmare remnants growing from the depths of the earth—towering spires intersecting at impossible angles, and the walls covered with spiral reliefs, the patterns of which seem to slowly flow after being gazed at for a long time.
It sketches out indescribable faces and limbs.
Even the shadows cast by these reliefs are not static, but rather wriggle and extend like living things, forming ever-changing totems on the rock face.
It was as if they were whispering Taboo Incantation that had long been lost.
Deep within those holes and vortexes, so dark that not even light could escape, one always felt as if countless invisible eyes were peering at them from the void—eyes devoid of emotion, yet filled with hunger, as if waiting only for their will to falter slightly before dragging their souls into the eternal abyss of chaos.
The mental pollution in the air is becoming increasingly severe.
At first, it was just a faint whisper in my ear, like the wind passing through the cracks in withered bones.
Now, however, it has evolved into clearly discernible malicious syllables, intermittent yet precisely piercing the most vulnerable corners of consciousness.
"Give up—thinking is the root of suffering—sinking is the only destination—"
Those voices didn't come from the outside world, but echoed directly deep within their brains, carrying a sweet yet rotten allure, attempting to erode their last shred of grasp on reality.
What exactly are we approaching?