The elderly Saruman gently waved his fingers.
Then, the deep blue light flowed, and the scenes of memory began to move forward once again, slowly unfolding the encounter across time and space in the R'lyeh City a thousand years ago and everything that followed.
Later, I learned the boy's name— Ian Prince.
The pale blue light of memories shifted and danced, accompanied by the deep, clear narration of the elderly Saruman, as if imbuing this ancient tale with a definitive label.
The truth and the price will soon be revealed to the Black Robed Woman, revealing its cruel and heavy side. As the elderly Saruman utters the name of Ian, the true protagonist, this name seems to possess a certain Magic Power, adding a touch of realism to the image of the cold boy in his memory.
Although this dimension remains shrouded in the mists of Legend and the paradoxes of time and space, within the memory, the young Saruman and Karg still hide behind the toppled pillar, their hearts pounding in their chests, barely daring to breathe.
The oppressive feeling emanating from Ian Prince's calm glance was like a cold blade hanging overhead.
It lingered for a long time.
"Am I going to die?!"
"I'm going to die!"
"He's watching us!"
Saruman and Karg felt their hearts stop, their throats tighten, and their tension reached its peak. However, the expected attack, questioning, or expulsion did not come.
Ian simply withdrew his gaze, as if he had only inadvertently caught a glimpse of a speck of dust in the corner, before turning all his attention back to the complex and enormous magic circle on the ground.
"This must be the path to Cthulhu's chambers, his final resting place."
He frowned slightly, his fair fingers brushing across the engravings on the array diagram once more. The Magic Power flowing from his fingertips became even more condensed, as if he were delving into the core nodes within.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"
The pressure has eased a little.
but.
Neither of them was at peace with themselves.
Time ticked by in the deathly silence.
Finally, Karg's tense nerves relaxed slightly, and he couldn't help but ask in a very low voice through the weak mental connection maintained by Saruman.
"Didn't he—didn't he notice us? Or—did he not care?" Karg had the typical mindset of a warrior, so he couldn't quite figure out this question either.
"I don't think it's like that."
Saruman's silver eyes were fixed on Ian's back, sensing the unfathomable Magic Power Fluctuation emanating from him, and his complete focus on breaking the formation.
He paused for a moment before responding in a complex and enigmatic tone, also through the mental link. "Perhaps—the truth is he discovered us but didn't care."
Saruman shared his opinion.
"Completely unconcerned?"
Karg still couldn't quite understand.
then.
Saruman went on to explain.
"Just like when we walk in the wilderness, we don't care if there are a few ants watching our footsteps, let alone stop to chase them away or explain."
A very detailed and vivid metaphor.
As Wizard, Saruman could easily understand why Ian was indifferent to discovering them; after all, only Wizard could comprehend the ethereal nature of Wizard.
"Ah!?"
This analogy made Karg feel stifled and humiliated.
He, Karg, a top warrior; Saruman, a genius Wizard touching the threshold of Legend, was, in the eyes of that young Legend, merely—an insignificant ant?
This fact really upset Karg.
certainly.
He's not really stupid.
After all, no one who reaches the top in any field is truly stupid; it's just that, relatively speaking, he doesn't have Saruman's quick thinking.
Not liking to use one's brain is one thing.
Karg still possessed the ability to discern. Because of this, a cold voice deep within him told him that Saruman's analogy, though cruel, was undeniably true. How so? The level of power displayed by the other party, the gap between them and the other was perhaps even greater than the gap between a human and an ant.
"Damn it!" Karg only cursed under his breath, forcibly suppressing the anger and helplessness of being slighted. Such is reality; in the face of absolute power, dignity and pride sometimes seem so pale. All they could do now was hide themselves and wait and see.
"That's how the Wizarding World is; the slightest difference can make all the difference. And, the Wizard in the world are only divided into Legendary Wizard and other Tom, Dick, and Harry Wizard."
"In the eyes of Legend, Wizard apprentices and Wizard like us are probably no different." The young Saruman's thoughts were also churning.
He had to admit this fact, especially after experiencing so much, he could feel even more how big the gap was between himself and the Legend.
certainly.
The bitterness in one's heart is one thing.
His mind was more focused on curiosity and speculation about Ian Prince's behavior at that moment.
"What is he thinking of doing? Is that the teleportation array for the exit?"
The same goes for Karg.
"It's a teleportation array, but I don't know where it will take me."
Saruman responded, and the two watched as Ian slowly walked around the magic circle, sometimes stopping to trace several shimmering runes in the air with his fingertips and imprint them in specific positions on the circle; at other times, he would mutter some strangely syllableed incantations that he couldn't understand at all.
The incantation seemed to resonate with the whispers of the city, causing the surrounding space to tremble slightly.
What shocked Saruman even more was the occasional, almost inaudible muttering of Ian to himself that he caught. The voice remained calm, yet it carried an unwavering resolve.
"----The energy node is here----Hmm, the weak point of the seal's core----"
"---- Cthulhu ---- is definitely not in good condition, he's even weaker than expected----"
"----Slay it before it fully wakes up----and be done with it----"
Cthulhu!
Saruman suddenly remembered the " Sleeping God " and " Great Old Ones " mentioned on the stone tablet! Could this name, so casually mentioned by the other party, be the true master of this R'lyeh City? That terrifying entity whose mere existence was enough to distort spacetime and corrupt all things?
And what is this Legend doing? Unlike them, who only wanted to escape, the other party was trying to decipher the magic circle that sealed or summoned this terrifying being!
The implication was that they intended to take advantage of the weakened and dormant state of this being called " Cthulhu " to launch a preemptive strike and eliminate it?!
An indescribable sense of shock and absurdity swept over young Saruman. They were still struggling with how to survive...
While racking his brains and struggling to find a way to escape, this Legend young man has already set his sights on the source of all this disaster and intends to eliminate it in the most direct and violent way.
And thus, everything will end!
This can no longer be described as brave; it's downright insane! It's a problem-solving approach that can only arise from absolute confidence in one's own abilities, a kind of overarching perspective!
"As expected—the way Legend handle problems is truly—terrifyingly simple and direct," Saruman thought bitterly to himself. He realized that the gap between himself and a true Legend was not just in strength, but also in vision, courage, and a completely different attitude when facing ultimate terror.
However, it was perhaps Ian Prince's undisguised murderous intent toward Cthulhu and his attempt to break the formation that triggered some sensitive mechanisms deep within R'lyeh City.
Just as Ian seemed to have found a key point, his fingertip condensed into a point of extremely refined, dark light that seemed to be able to pierce through the void, preparing to point it at a distorted star-shaped symbol in the center of the magic circle.
A sudden change has occurred!
"Roar roar roar roar!"
A howl, indescribable in any known language and filled with extreme madness, resentment, and blasphemy, suddenly resounded from all directions of R'lyeh City!
The sound, of course, did not travel through the air, but acted directly on the soul, as if countless cold steel needles were simultaneously piercing the brain and stirring up all reason!
"Damn it! Those horrible polluted creatures!" Young Saruman and Karg groaned simultaneously, feeling a splitting headache and their vision blurring as they nearly fainted.
no way.
Realizing that they are being contaminated.
Saruman had to immediately activate his " Mind Barrier " at full power to barely stabilize his mind, while Karg bit his tongue hard, using the excruciating pain to resist the impact on his soul.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!~"
Even with Saruman's help, Karg was still feeling somewhat unwell.
They all looked into the distance with suspicion and uncertainty.
The howl seemed like a signal, a rallying cry.
The distorted shadows of the buildings surrounding the plaza began to writhe and lengthen violently. Visible ripples, like waves on water, spread through the air. Then, countless creatures, even more bizarre in form and more terrifying in aura, seemed to be "squeezed" out of the void!
They are no longer the relatively "low-level" derivatives we encountered before.
Some are enormous, like small hills, covered with thick, slimy carapaces from which countless dancing, sucker-like tentacles emerge; others are elusive, like condensed shadows, with only pairs of eyes burning with mad flames flickering in the darkness, radiating a powerful field of mental pollution.
These are all advanced pollutants.
certainly.
The more severe the pollution, the better.
The greater the power, the more distorted the form becomes.
A glance reveals that some are entirely composed of irregularly writhing chunks of flesh and eyeballs, constantly splitting and merging, emitting nauseating, sticky sounds. Without exception, these creatures exude an extremely intense, ancient, and mad will, originating from the same source as R'lyeh City but far more profound and ancient.
They were Guardian swarmed out from the depths of the city's "dream" and from the edge of the Sleeping God's subconscious, enraged by Ian Prince's schemes and driven by the murderous intent directed at " Cthulhu." Or rather, they were part of " Cthulhu's " instinctive defense mechanism!
Therefore, their only target is that black-robed boy standing at the edge of the magic circle, emanating an aura of death that they find utterly repulsive and terrifying!
"You've come at the perfect time. My improved Avada Kedavra is perfect against you."
Faced with this terrifying torrent surging in from all directions like a tidal wave, enough to instantly plunge any Legend below the legendary level into despair, Ian Prince merely tilted his head slightly.
His calm eyes remained completely undisturbed.
It was as if the monsters rushing towards them were not countless terrifying monsters comparable to Great Wizard.
They were just a swarm of annoying mosquitoes.
Well, as he said, the original Killing Curse might not be very effective against creatures Cthulhu Pollution, but he had been in this place for some time after all.
During this period of time.
As a being of exceptional magical talent, he thoroughly researched the life essence of these polluted creatures, and thus created the highly targeted Killing Curse.
Judging from the previous battle record, the effect is indeed outstanding. Of course, since this is the memory of the elderly Saruman, the young Saruman and Karg in the memory do not know this.
They only heard young Ian's mutterings.
Faced with a surging influx of polluted organisms.
The boy didn't even stop what he was doing; the dim light gathered at his fingertips continued to steadily point towards the star-shaped symbol at the center of the magic circle.
Then.
Just as the first mountain-sized carapace behemoth swung its massive claws, powerful enough to shatter mountains, crashing down, the first wave of Shadow Wraiths' mental shrieks were about to engulf him, and the first wave of fleshy, eyeball-like monsters spewed torrents of highly corrosive acid— Ian Prince casually waved his free left hand to his side.
There were no incantations, no complicated spellcasting actions.
There was only one cold, utterly calm declaration. " Avada —Withering."
It's not a "death-taking" attack targeting a single individual, nor a widespread "plague," but rather "withering away"!
With the trajectory of his wave as the boundary, a gray-green Magic Power ripple, seemingly representing the ultimate destiny of all things, spread out silently like ripples stirred up by a pebble thrown into a calm lake.
Well, Avada Withering, a forbidden magical variant that has never appeared in the Wizarding World before, can of course be traced back to the ancient and insidious Avada Kedavra.
Unlike the latter's iconic green light, Avada Withering's advance is more like a green mist carrying withered leaves and frost. Wherever it passes, it not only takes away life, but also causes the surrounding flowers and plants to lose their color instantly, and wooden objects to show signs of decay. It is the product of Ian's considerable brainpower.
He reconstructed the energy structure of the original spell using ingenious Magic Circuit.
so.
This is clearly completely different from the ordinary Avada Kedavra.
It even incorporates entirely new mechanisms.
This created a completely new magical power.
only.
Such an evil power, Ian certainly wouldn't name it after himself; after all, who would want to be remembered as a dark Wizard by posterity?
Ian is demanding of himself.
In the tomes of the Wizarding World and in the casual conversations of ordinary Wizard, Ian's image must always be closely associated with pure silver light and warm healing spells.
History should record that he once drove away rampant dark Magical Creatures in the northern wasteland and also lifted curses on Muggle villages free of charge.
Those who have been saved by him always use words like "merciful" and "bright" when they talk about him. The title "White Wizard " should be branded onto his identity like a mark.
so.
In Ian's view, Avada should bear the blame.