A Brand New History

There was no helping it.

Even if Saruman possessed the power of a future legend, it was not everlasting power.

He himself was still only a mortal.

And for mortals, Cthulhu was a taboo whose very name could not be known.

Yet the three of them had done far more than merely learn its name. Now, to varying degrees, whether directly or indirectly, they had glimpsed Cthulhu's manifesting true form. Even if it had only been a fleeting glance, even through vast distance and layer upon layer of mist, the image of an Old One itself was the most potent poison, the most terrifying source of memetic contamination. Their reason, flesh, and souls were all inevitably sliding toward the abyss of collapse and mutation. I don't know them well, but I worked hard to save them. I can't just leave them alone, or wouldn't my good deed just now have been for nothing?

"No one will sing praises of my kindness now." Ian's brow suddenly furrowed. Without any hesitation, almost at the exact instant his mental power confirmed their condition, his mind was already in motion.

Teleport them away? With the structure of space-time violently unstable and the Old One's true will blanketing the entire area, ordinary teleportation spells—even Legendary-grade ones—had an alarmingly high chance of failure. They might even be thrown directly into a space-time maelstrom and torn apart completely.

Or worse—the fluctuations caused by teleportation might draw Cthulhu's attention and bring down a devastating attack.

"Mm, teleportation magic is out."

If this had been the Ian of before, he might have had a headache over it.

But the trump cards Ian possessed now were not limited to Legendary power. He also had the authority of [Fire of the Old Ones], taken from Cthulhu and forcibly redefined by him.