There is no specific incantation or complex Magic Power structure.
Simply spread your five fingers, and then—gracefully clench your fist.
" Absolute Prohibition."
A flat syllable escaped Ian's lips. The next moment, centered on Ian, an invisible...
The "field" of absolute repulsion suddenly expanded!
This "field" is different from the "domain" that isolates him from pollution!
It is more domineering and more aggressive!
All attacks entering this "field" area, whether they are attacks from physical behemoths, acid sprays,
The entanglement of the living plants, the shrieks of the spiritual aggregates, the suction of the pollution vortex, and even the distorted light and frantic whispers all seemed to crash into an absolutely smooth and hard wall in an instant.
They were mercilessly—bounced away, deflected, and annihilated!
No, it's not just about offsetting.
"He is Dark Magic itself!"
Saruman watched in horror as the animated behemoth that had been the first to pounce on the edge of the "field" shimmered with runes...
The giant claw, powerful enough to split mountains and shatter rocks, suddenly lost its runic light the moment it touched the invisible barrier. The claw itself shattered like fragile glass, and the shattering spread throughout its entire body.
"Ahhh!" Before the enormous monster could even let out a scream, it turned into gray dust that drifted everywhere, devoid of any life or Magic Power!
Not only that, the torrent of acid that spewed out, upon touching the "field," was as if it had hit an invisible dam. Not only could it not advance an inch, but it was also swept back by an even stronger force, splashing onto the monsters surging behind it, causing a chaotic corrosion and hissing.
The screams of the spiritual aggregate vanished without a trace.
Without causing the slightest ripple, the aggregates themselves, once they approached the "field" at a certain distance, evaporated and dissipated rapidly, like dew under the sun.
The pollution vortex seemed to have met its nemesis; its ominous suction instantly failed, and the vortex itself twisted, dissipated, and turned back into harmless mist that was repelled far away.
"The ultimate version of All Spells End,' Avada, take the blame for this again, All Avada End." It was indeed mixed with Dark Magic, so Ian became cautious again.
certainly.
The two young ancient people couldn't understand his little scheme.
In Saruman and Karg's eyes, Ian's simple action and single word drew an insurmountable line of death around him! Any attack, regardless of its form or intensity, would be ruthlessly annihilated once it entered this " Absolute Prohibition " area!
That's not all.
Seemingly finding this passive defense somewhat troublesome, a tiny, almost imperceptible hint of annoyance, like the incessant buzzing of flies, finally flickered in Ian's cold eyes.
He maintained the open " Absolute Prohibition " field with his left hand, while continuing to analyze the magic circle with his right hand, and began to chant another incantation.
This time, the incantation was more ancient and obscure, and every note uttered made the surrounding air tremble, as if it resonated with some deeper cosmic law.
"The Law of All Things Returning to Stillness"
As he chanted, he slightly pressed down the gesture with his left hand that was maintaining the " Absolute Prohibition " atmosphere.
boom-!
An even greater and more irresistible force of "decay" spread rapidly in all directions from him, like invisible ripples of death!
This "decay" is completely different from the "decay" that came with a wave of the hand before. It is slower, but more thorough, as if chanting the ultimate fate of all things to eventually perish.
Where the ripples passed.
Whether it's the monsters that have just risen from the ground, the spiritual aggregates emerging from the shadows, the polluted mist drifting in the air, the distorted light, or even the writhing, pulsating dark red patterns on the ground—
Everything possessing the qualities of "activity," "madness," and "pollution" was losing its color, its vitality, and its "meaning" of existence at a visible rate. Monsters stood frozen in place, rapidly withering, weathering, and turning into dust; spiritual aggregates vanished silently, as if they had never existed; polluting mists were purified and dissipated.
The vibrant patterns on the ground turned gray and lifeless, returning to cold stone.
The entire square, and a considerable area surrounding it, seemed to be subjected to the highest level of "purification" and "death" effects under the sweeping ripples of the " Law of All Things Returning to Silence." All madness and pollution were forcibly suppressed and erased, leaving only an absolute, deathly silence where even whispers had vanished.
"Oh my god! He must be the kind of Wizard who can hunt down gods!"
Karg now firmly believes this.
Saruman also stunned and speechless.
R'lyeh's surging counterattack seemed laughable and futile under the crushing force of absolute power and rules. Its expendable army didn't even require Ian Prince to expend a single extra bit of attention before being easily wiped out while he was busy analyzing the magic circle.
This power.
It's something to aspire to.
It also feels like a dream.
Saruman and Karg watched in stunned silence. They had expected a hard-fought war of attrition, to see the Legend gradually show signs of fatigue under the relentless onslaught.
However, reality slapped them in the face even harder. This wasn't a waste of time at all; it was still a one-sided and outrageously efficient cleanup operation.
The young Legend didn't even actually "make a move," he merely maintained a defensive field, recited a spell, and then vanished from R'lyeh's planned offensive.
The boy's mastery of Magic Power, his understanding of the rules, and his control of the rhythm of battle had reached a level they could not even imagine.
The so-called "human wave tactics" and "attack tactics" seem to be nothing but a joke in the face of such an existence. R'lyeh's mad will also seemed to freeze briefly in the face of these successive defeats. Only the starlight trails flowing from Ian Prince's fingertips and the lingering echoes of his deep, ancient chant remained in the square.
As the young Saruman watched the black figure, still focused on his work in absolute silence, an unprecedented thought, like a cold, venomous snake, burrowed into his heart:
Perhaps R'lyeh, or rather the slumbering " Cthulhu," didn't lack the desire to use more powerful methods, but rather—under the threat of the young Legend, the "methods" He could mobilize had reached a certain limit?
Or rather, facing such a Legend who is completely immune to pollution, wields extreme rules of destruction, and has a clear purpose: to "kill" Him.
In its dormant state, it surprisingly seemed somewhat—ineffective in coping?
Was it really a hunt?
The idea sent a chill down Saruman's spine, making him feel a sense of absurdity.
If even the Great Old Ones mentioned on the stone tablet could be driven to this point by a Legend fifteen-year-old boy—just how terrifying is the power of this mysterious young Legend?
certainly.
Besides, Saruman couldn't help but wonder what Cthulhu, whom the other side claimed they would "kill while he's weak," would be like in his prime.
The mystery grows ever larger, like a snowball rolling downhill, and what role can these two insignificant "observers" play in this increasingly incomprehensible game?
"I think he is our hope."
The Karg opening.
"Perhaps."
Saruman couldn't bring himself to mention just how dark a black Wizard the other party was.
They were afraid of frightening their companions.
Besides.
Faced with an absolute gap.
They seem to have no choice but to continue hiding and witnessing.
This space.
There were a few moments when it was relatively quiet.
However.
R'lyeh's brief pause was not a retreat, but a deeper sense of oppression before the storm. The successive failures, the annihilation of the derivative legion, the ineffectiveness of the pollution and erosion, and even the ripples containing a portion of the Law of Nirvana, failed to shake the target in the slightest. All of this was like countless cold needles.
It pierced the colossal will that slumbered in the deepest recesses of the city, in the cracks between dreams and reality. Anger, a silent yet powerful rage that could shake the very foundations of this distorted spacetime, gathered like a super tsunami brewing beneath the sea, accumulating in every stone, every breath of air, and every shadow in R'lyeh.
This time, no new monsters emerged from the ground or the void. Instead, the entire environment became "activated" and hostility surged dramatically.
The buildings surrounding the square, those green boulders with non-Euclidean geometric structures, began to ooze more viscous liquid. This liquid gathered and flowed as if it were alive, making a "rustling" sound like billions of tiny creatures crawling. In the dim light, the outlines of the buildings seemed to slowly writhe and Transfiguration, as if a giant beast was stretching its limbs that had been dormant for countless years, and the shadows it cast became even more ferocious, like a gaping maw ready to devour its prey.
The eternal whisper in the air suddenly intensified, becoming a continuous murmur mixed with resentment.
A cacophony of curses, insane temptations, and blasphemous attacks directly assaults the conscious defenses of all intelligent beings.
"Oh! Not again?"
Well, how should I put it?
It's still the same old thing.
However, its strength has increased significantly.
Saruman felt his " Mind Barrier " crumbling in this mental storm, and he even began to experience clear auditory hallucinations, with voices tempting him to give up his resistance and merge into this eternal madness.
To understand that "ultimate truth".
Even more terrifying is the spatial anomaly. The already chaotic spatial structure has become even more unstable. Objects in the field of vision begin to appear double and distorted, the sense of distance completely fails, a stone pillar that is close at hand may suddenly become out of reach, and the shadow of a distant building seems like it will pounce on your face at any moment.
The sensation of the ground beneath one's feet became unpredictable, sometimes feeling like hard stone, sometimes like soft, slippery mud, and occasionally even giving the illusion of being gently pulled by something.
"I hate myself!" A terrifying feeling of being hated, rejected, and oppressed by the entire "world" enveloped Saruman and Karg. They felt no longer as simple intruders, but as "germs" to be eradicated by the living, hostile city itself.
R'lyeh appears to have abandoned attempts to create concrete "soldiers".
Instead, they mobilized the power of the entire environment, attempting to use pure "malice" and "chaos" to completely crush and assimilate all outsiders, including Ian, on both physical and mental levels.
However, Ian Prince, who was at the very center of this vortex of malice and suffering the most direct hostility from his environment, reacted in a way that made Saruman almost doubt his own eyes.
Ian didn't even glance up at the increasingly terrifying scene around him, nor did he make any additional defensive stance against the mental storm that was almost tangible. His "domain" remained as stable as ever, repelling all pollution, whispers, spatial distortions, and physical malice.
Ian felt as if he were inside an absolutely quiet and stable transparent bubble. The turbulent waves outside were nothing more than a silent play watched through glass to him.
His entire focus remained on the magic circle beneath his feet.
The energy network diagram outlined by the starlight trails is almost complete, and the matching of the three-dimensional runes and the energy nodes of the array is in its final stage.
"He must be threatening that ancient being now!" Saruman could see that Ian's fingertips would occasionally tremble very slightly. With each tremor, a three-dimensional rune would be precisely embedded in a key vortex of the array, causing a faint but clear spatial ripple.
The opponent's movements were steady, precise, and efficient, without a single wasted movement, and without the slightest hesitation or panic in the face of any external changes. That focus, that composure that seemed to completely "shield" the terrifying, world-destroying scene around him, filled Saruman with an almost desperate sense of admiration and—fear.
How strong must one's heart be, how absolute must one's confidence be, to maintain the same composure in such an environment as if conducting research in one's own laboratory?
A message came through Karg's mental link, trembling with disbelief. "He—he really doesn't care at all? This city—it looks like it's coming to life and devouring us!"
Saruman responded bitterly, "Perhaps—in his eyes, R'lyeh's anger at this moment" is "no different in essence from the previous harassment, neither posing a real threat." His target has always been clear: that magic circle. Everything else is—dispersion.
Just then, Ian stopped moving.
The last and most complex three-dimensional rune, floating in front of him, slowly rotated, aligning itself with the largest, distorted star-shaped symbol at the center of the magic circle.
"Done!"
A faint glimmer of light, as if confirming something, flashed in Ian's eyes.
Then, he raised his hands, his left hand resting lightly above the star-shaped symbol, while his right hand made a complex gesture, like turning an invisible key. His lips moved slightly, and a very short incantation, seemingly containing the power to pry open time and space, was uttered clearly and calmly.
"Using the position of the stars as the key, and the gap in dreams as the door—open."
certainly.
Ian definitely doesn't have these things.
But just because he doesn't have it doesn't prevent him from using it.
You need to know.
Wizard are a species that makes the impossible possible.
So what if I don't have the key, or the Dream Gap? I can just pretend I do, and that's enough to deceive reality. As for whether this is unreasonable...
Go tell my Wizard, I use my power of thought!
Ian is very much in line with the Wizard code.