Yes.
A true genius can dominate any era.
Even in the future.
At this very moment.
Even the proud and arrogant Africa geniuses have realized this.
Karg who seemed a little confused.
He was, after all, a soldier.
You can become stronger through Hard Work.
It's still hard to understand this sense of despair among Wizard. Thousands of years ahead? This is beyond his understanding of "genius" as a warrior.
"Then... is this still a human being?" Karg couldn't help but ask, a question that fundamentally questioned the very existence of Ian Prince.
Saruman remained silent for a long time.
He gazed at the impossibly young figure in the distance, who seemed to possess a part of the truth of the universe, and finally, with a slight hesitation, responded in an almost dreamlike tone.
"Perhaps—when we talk about Legend, we're no longer talking about people."
Saruman spoke in a low, eerie voice. "I once saw some vague inscriptions on an almost broken ancient stone slab deep within the Raven Ruins— "
"As mentioned above, in a long-lost era, there were powerful Wizard who could traverse the stars, wield the laws of nature as weapons, and even hunt down beings revered as gods by mortals." At the time, I thought it was just the arrogant fantasy of the ancients or an exaggerated myth.
His voice trailed off, filled with self-doubt and the shock of a cognitive upheaval, "But now—seeing 'him'—I suddenly can't believe it anymore."
Perhaps it's due to the fluctuations in thought within the Saruman mind link.
Perhaps it was the mention of the specific term " Raven Ruins " that triggered a barely perceptible thread of cause and effect, or perhaps it was merely a coincidence.
Just as Saruman uttered the words " Raven Ruins " in a low voice, in the distance, Ian Prince was focused on analyzing the magic circle using starlight trails and three-dimensional runes.
The movement paused for an extremely slight moment.
He didn't turn around completely, but only slightly turned his head. His deep eyes, as if unintentionally, swept over the toppled pillar where Saruman and Karg were hiding once more.
This time, the two felt it even more clearly than before! It wasn't an unintentional glance; there seemed to be an extremely subtle and fleeting hint of—surprise—in that gaze?
It's like a scholar immersed in complex calculations.
Suddenly, he heard a few words of technical jargon from the ant nest next to him. Although they were insignificant, they were enough to surprise him.
Well, how should I put it?
That was certainly true for Ian.
The Raven Ruins have always been something Ian has been interested in.
certainly.
With more important matters at hand, Ian didn't bother questioning the two humans who had suddenly appeared—a situation that Saruman and Karg interpreted differently.
With just a glance, and without lingering, Ian turned back to continue his analytical work, as if he had merely brushed away a tiny speck of dust.
But that one glance made Saruman and Karg's hearts nearly leap out of their throats!
"Oh my god! I feel like I'm dying!" Cold sweat instantly soaked their backs. They could even feel each other's stiffness and slight trembling.
"He—he really heard us?!" Karg's mental link was filled with terror.
"No—not necessarily—perhaps it's just a perception of mental fluctuations—" Saruman tried to reassure them, but his own voice trembled.
Faced with such an existence, any wishful thinking seems pale and powerless.
Saruman actually knew that Ian had discovered them.
but.
It's easier to bury your head in the sand and act like an ostrich.
Fortunately, Ian seemed genuinely uninterested in them. After that one glance, he made no further comment. The two forced themselves to calm down again, still trembling with fear.
They continued to watch with bated breath. However, the R'lyeh City, or rather the slumbering " Cthulhu," did not seem to have given up on stopping Ian. After the physical derivatives were ruthlessly wiped out, a more insidious, more vicious, and more existential attack quietly descended.
This is not a monster, not magic, but a change in "atmosphere".
The eternally dim yellow light in the square began to distort and change color, taking on an indescribable, dark hue, like a deep-sea whirlpool.
The whispers in the air were no longer just chaotic, frantic babbling, but began to converge and weave, forming an extremely ancient, extremely blasphemous "hymn" that seemed to contain the ultimate mysteries and despair of the universe. This hymn was not heard through the ears, but acted directly on the depths of consciousness, filled with indescribable temptation and call, inviting the listener to abandon thought, abandon the self, and merge into that eternal, chaotic dream.
At the same time, a viscous, iridescent mist began to seep from the twisted surfaces of those green megalithic structures. This mist drifted slowly, and wherever it passed, even space itself seemed to become viscous and distorted, emanating a strong, distorting spiritual pollution that corrupted reality and cognition.
"Damn it! We've been caught in the crossfire!"
Saruman and Karg only sensed the edge of this change in "atmosphere" before feeling waves of intense nausea and dizziness. Their consciousness began to blur, and all sorts of bizarre hallucinations appeared before their eyes: a huge shadow covering the starry sky, dancing, endless tentacles, and a magnificent city submerged in the deep sea.
They had to muster all their willpower just to barely stay conscious, but even then, their skin began to feel an unusual tingling and itching sensation.
It looked as if something was trying to crawl out from inside.
"A hallucination! It's all a hallucination!"
Saruman loudly reminded Karg.
"Yes! Yes! Saruman! I believe you!"
Karg's voice was terrified, but he still chose to trust him.
How to put it? They still can't adapt to this kind of danger, that kind of pollution, invisible and intangible, yet omnipresent, reaching the deepest part of their souls.
This is R'lyeh's most fundamental "welcome" and "assimilation" of intruders!
They wanted to resist.
It's harder than climbing to heaven.
At most, it will only delay the affected process.
"Damn it!"
Saruman once believed that no one could escape it.
However, when Saruman strained to focus his gaze on the epicenter of the contamination—where Ian Prince was located—he witnessed a scene he would never forget.
The distorted rays of light, when they came within about three feet of Ian, seemed to have struck an absolutely transparent and insurmountable barrier.
They automatically deflected and bypassed it, unable to touch it in the slightest.
The blasphemous hymn, which directly affected consciousness, vanished without a trace when it touched Ian's area, like a clay ox sinking into the sea, without causing even the slightest change in his expression.
Yes.
According to Ian's research.
He even figured out the corruption of Cthulhu.
He unearthed knowledge that was absolutely forbidden and should not have been learned, so he accomplished what ordinary Wizard could not, and now the pollution no longer affects him in the slightest.
The shimmering, iridescent, and distorting polluted mist, as it drifted toward Ian, seemed to encounter a natural enemy, automatically dissipating and retreating from afar, as if an absolutely "clean" realm existed there, inaccessible to any filth or madness.
"He can even block this???"
In Saruman's perception.
Ian Prince didn't seem to be simply standing there.
The other party is more like a "special layer" independent of the madness of R'lyeh. His own existence and the force field around him constitute a "domain" of absolute self and absolute order. This "domain" is incompatible with the chaotic, mad, and polluted "domain" of R'lyeh.
It even created a kind of essential rejection and crushing.
For Saruman and Karg, who were still "mortals" and lived within R'lyeh's "domain," R'lyeh pollution was a deadly erosion. But for Ian, who had elevated his own "domain" to a certain extreme, this pollution was like trying to coat adamantite with sewage.
Not only was it ineffective, it actually highlighted the purity and inviolability of refined gold.
The young Legend stood quietly in the center of the madness, his body three feet around him, Pure Land unto itself. Regardless of the distorted light and shadows, the booming hymns, and the pervasive mist, he remained unmoved, focused on analyzing the magic circle beneath his feet, his cold face showing no sign of being affected.
"Is there anything he can't do???" This absolute "isolation" and "immunity" brought Saruman a profound and far-reaching shock on a different level than the previous devastating battle scenes. It was not just about the sheer power of his strength, but a complete difference in the essence of life and the level of existence!
The corruption of R'lyeh could distort even time and space, yet it could not affect this boy in the slightest.
"What exactly is he?"
As Saruman gazed at the black figure standing aloof amidst the frenzy, the last trace of contempt and wishful thinking he had harbored due to the other's youth vanished completely.
All that remains is endless awe and confusion.
"Roar roar roar!"
R'lyeh's will, or rather, the subconscious of that Sleeping God, clearly did not give up despite the previous crushing defeat and the ineffectiveness of the contamination. On the contrary, Ian Prince's absolute isolation and immunity seemed to have triggered some deeper conditioned stress, and the Old God showed anger and unease originating from antiquity.
How dare this blasphemous being maintain such a pure and cold order within His realm, and even attempt to unravel the secrets that touch His core?
Thus began an even fiercer and more reckless counterattack.
This time, there was no longer that soul-stirring blasphemous howl as a prelude.
The attack brewed silently and erupted in the stillness.
The first thing to change was the plaza itself. The cold, hard, green boulders that formed the base of the magic circle suddenly softened and began to writhe.
It seemed to have transformed into some kind of living characteristic, still carrying a viscous gelatinous substance. Countless extremely tiny, dark red lines, like blood vessels or nerve bundles, emerged and spread from the depths of the stone. They pulsated, exuding a strong life force—but it was a twisted, frenzied Life Force, full of the fishy sweetness and putridity of the deep sea.
Immediately afterwards, these writhing "grounds" began to rise, and the bulges rapidly grew larger and Transfiguration. Some transformed into the same kind of carapace-covered behemoths as before, but larger in size, with eerie runes flowing with fluorescent light covering their shells; others condensed into amorphous clumps of flesh composed entirely of translucent gel and constantly opening and closing eyeballs.
They have no fixed form, yet they can extend tentacles or spew strong acids at will. Some even "grow" directly from the ground, transforming into living plants like giant seaweed or coral, but their dancing branches are covered with suckers and barbs, secreting a viscous liquid with strong hallucinogenic effects.
At the same time, in the shadows of the buildings surrounding the plaza, the void twisted violently once more. This time, what emerged was no longer a single shadowy wraith or a flying monster, but a far more bizarre entity. They were like aggregates of countless broken souls and mad thoughts, their forms indistinct, sometimes like smoke, sometimes like flowing water.
It was just a constant stream of chaotic whispers that were driving people to the brink of sanity.
Its level of psychological pollution is several times higher than before.
They seem to have no physical form, yet they can directly interfere with reality, making the air viscous, causing light to refract strangely, and even attempting to directly distort Saruman and Karg's perception of distance and direction.
That's not all.
The multicolored pollutant mist in the air grew denser; it no longer merely drifted, but began to actively converge and swirl, forming small vortexes that emitted an ominous suction force. These vortexes seemed to draw out Life Force and Magic Power within their range, and Saruman even felt his Magic Shield being slowly eroded.
Peeling.
Fortunately, this wasn't directed at Saruman.
otherwise.
Saruman felt he was going to die very quickly.
The attacks on Ian came from all directions, from the sky and the ground, from matter and spirit, from the tangible and the intangible. R'lyeh seemed to have used every available "resource" in the region, attempting to completely overwhelm and wear down Ian Prince, this "alien," with sheer numbers and relentless attrition.
No matter how strong his "domain" is.
No matter how powerful the Magic Power.
Faced with this seemingly endless, raging tide originating from the entire city, or perhaps even from the Sleeping God himself, can it continue forever?
Good plan.
" Legend should last a long time, right?"
Young Saruman and Karg watched in terror from afar.
They felt like a small boat tossed about in a storm, teetering on the brink of collapse from the aftershocks of the battle and the ever-increasing pollution.
Saruman had to continuously expend a large amount of Magic Power to maintain his defenses and Mental Barrier, Karg also felt the black lines on his arm becoming increasingly agitated.
It seemed as if it might break through some kind of boundary at any moment.
However, Ian Prince, who was at the center of the storm, still showed no particular reaction to this wave of attacks that was ten times more ferocious and a hundred times more complex than before.
He didn't even stop analyzing the magic circle. Only when the first wave of activated ground behemoths burst from the earth, wielding their rune-studded claws and crashing down; when the first wave of amorphous fleshy masses spewed forth torrents of corrosive acid; when the first wave of spiritual aggregates emitted soul-ripping shrieks; when the first wave of polluting vortexes began to absorb Magic Power— Ian finally seemed to find it a bit "noisy," and slightly raised his eyelids. Then, he did something that almost made Saruman scream. He continued analyzing the magic circle with his right hand, multitasking, while his free left hand seemingly casually waved to his side.