The system hasn't appeared for a long time.
Aside from reminding the protagonist of his increased magic proficiency, Ian hadn't been triggering this system much lately. However, his gains this time were indeed worthy of the system's notification.
Within him, the Fire of the Old Ones that had been devoured and accumulated in his dreams, freed from the constraints of the dream dimension and the direct confrontation with the will of Cthulhu, did not subside or backfire. Instead, they rapidly merged, collapsed, and underwent a qualitative change, completely integrating 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!]
[ Proof of Legend Generating...]
[Generation complete!]
[Authority: The Fire of the Old Ones has been acquired.]
[Description: A unique authority formed from the corrosive energy originating from the essence of the Great Old Ones 'Cthulhu dream world, forcibly devoured, transformed, and redefined through the special Fantasy Anchor " Dark Tiga."]
[This authority possesses some characteristics of "erosion," "chaotic assimilation," and "spiritual destruction," but it is constrained and controlled by the host's core will.][Current authority integrity: 37%, can be upgraded.]
[Host Status Update: Life level upgraded to " Undefeated Legend," overall energy level assessment significantly increased.]
A series of cold, rapid, and even unusually disorienting system notifications flashed through the depths of his mind, but he had almost no time to examine them closely. " Undefeated Legend, huh?"
Ian murmured softly.
strength.
An unprecedented power surged through his blood vessels, nerves, and even every cell.
That wasn't simple 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. Swoosh
A 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 burned silently, emitting no heat, yet the air around its fingertips appeared eerily distorted and faded, as if its very existence was 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 them; if he so desired, these flames could drag any matter, energy, or even fragile souls they touched into an abyss of chaos and collapse. This was his power.
It was taken from Cthulhu, but now it bears his mark, " Ian ".
"This means that all my magic can carry this authority; even the most basic spells can corrupt and pollute the opponent's Magic Power."
"Even ordinary Legend are not immune." Before his elation could even rise, a violent tremor beneath his feet abruptly pulled Ian back to reality. No, not beneath his feet.
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.
"Plop~"
The stones splashed up a thick, salty liquid.
"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 sound, a deafening crash of breaking chains, and the rumble 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, Cthulhu, Great Old Ones dreams were forcibly torn from his slumber, suffered a backlash, and lost a portion of his essential power.
In its boundless rage and agony, it truly... stirred within the dimension of reality.
The darkness in the distance—not the darkness of lacking light, but the shadow cast by the very "presence" of some colossal being—began to expand and rise. A green, mountain-like silhouette, against the backdrop of churning mist and crumbling city-states, slowly and irresistibly emerged. First came countless, writhing tentacles, each comparable to a skyscraper, covered in suckers and unnatural warts. They churned the icy seawater and mist. Then came an even larger silhouette, covered in scales and slime, like a nightmare mountain range rising from its slumber of millennia.
"Boom!"
Then, those enormous wings, folded together like a mixture of leather and bat wings, slowly unfurled in the shadows, bringing a suffocating, all-encompassing feeling despite being submerged in the deep sea. Finally, at the top of that silhouette, two incredibly deep, incredibly crazed "gazes," burning with eerie green flames, like stars rising from the deepest depths of hell, pierced through endless distances and barriers, locking onto Ian with unwavering precision.
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 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 this 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.
"Bosses have two phases, that's normal."
Ian stood amidst the ruins and fallen stones, the dark green flames at his fingertips burning quietly. He raised his head to meet the two destructive gazes. The newly formed authority and Legend 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 emerges victorious in the end—I have already sealed that Destiny!" 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 were also 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 foam, at an unknown depth.
It emitted a rumbling sound like muffled thunder.
The surging seawater itself was also churning wildly, forming countless sucking and pulling whirlpools, and the air was filled with a salty, rotten, and indescribable smell.
That was the scent of ancient dust, seemingly emanating from the ends of time.
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, which 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 acts directly on the soul, attempting to drag any existence that still bears the mark of "order" into eternal, mad chaos.
certainly.
It won't affect Ian.
and.
It was also of great benefit to 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 originates from the same source but is 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 that...
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 Proof of Legend, who isn't a Great Old Ones?" The Legend 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 Power 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 a [ Great Old Ones ], and gazing upon his own kind certainly wouldn't cause him to lose sanity.
Ian was scanning for information about Cthulhu.
but.
His Mental Power 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 rescued?"
The light, like the last three candle flames in a stormy night, teetered on the brink of extinction amidst the boundless green mist and frantic whispers.
It's Saruman, Karg, and Lina.
them!
They still haven't escaped!
"Such short legs!"
Ian couldn't help but make a comment.
certainly.
He understands.
The shattering of the Cthulhu Dream and its forced awakening occurred almost simultaneously, resulting in spacetime turbulence and dimensional fluctuations that were likely far more intense and chaotic than anticipated.
Although one of these three is Half-Step Legend expert, in this upheaval that fundamentally affects the Great 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. And this is not even 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 ashen, 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 Karg.
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! Ahhh! 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 ear canals.
It then flowed down his rugged cheeks.
"It's in my brain! Do I have to take my brain out?!" Karg'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 were fiercely fighting against some alien force within him that wanted to break free.
The most worrying case is Lina.
"I heard a forbidden melody."
The young prophet 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 crazed green light. The robe that symbolized her identity as a prophet had been torn in half. On her exposed skin, flowing dark green patterns, vaguely similar to the blasphemous reliefs on the walls of R'lyeh, appeared. Clearly, Cthulhu had not given up on this priestess.
"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 Raven Prophet granted her extraordinary resistance.
Otherwise.
Lina is probably the kind of creature that instantly transforms into a deformed Cthulhu being. Currently, the power of the Raven is driving away the pollution for her, but Ian hasn't given her much power after all.
Confront the Great Old Ones.
As mortals.
Mutation is only a matter of time.
It wasn't just her.
The same applies to the other two.