The air was bone-chilling, turning breath into frost; it was far colder here than in the temple above.
The King of Gloomy Cold Bones lived up to its name. The piercing chill turned both of their faces pale.
The two were dressed for a May day, and in a city buried deep underground with a temperature of only ten degrees or so, they hadn't felt cold. Even in the temple, where it dropped below zero, it had been tolerable. But now, the cold was biting. They had been down for less than a minute, just long enough to confirm the area was empty and temporarily safe, yet they already felt freezing, their bodies stiff as if their blood were about to turn to ice.
Lynch felt immense regret. Those shows he watched taught him various foolish ways to die during exploration, but few told him what preparations to make before investigating in another world. If there was a next time, he would definitely prepare sufficient supplies before heading out.
Even so, glancing at Miss Valente, whose nose was red from the cold, Lynch sighed and took off his damaged formal coat, handing it to the noblewoman while he remained in just his shirt.
I am no saint, but this is a land of gentlemen, and I must do as the locals do. As for keeping warm, a little shivering should suffice...???
Just as he was comforting himself, he watched Miss Valente bite her lip, take the coat, and put it on. She gave him a tight-lipped smile, then took out a small box, revealing a container of red powder inside.
With a flick of her finger, the powder adhered to both of them. She then chanted ancient syllables again, and Lynch felt a wave of warmth wash over his entire body, the cold easily warded off.
Hiss, you spellcasters really know how to play.
Only then did the two recover from their stiffness. They exchanged smiles and cautiously observed their surroundings.
Deep in the shaft was a flat, open underground space. At a glance, it was empty. The life-taking ghoul statues and the Son of the Formless were nowhere to be seen. The environment was filled with a foul stench, and the surroundings flickered with an eerie green light. On the wall, a dark, gloomy tunnel extended horizontally toward an unknown distance.
A strong sense of pressure faintly emanated from deep within the tunnel, like a sleeping beast—motionless, yet enough to intimidate all other creatures.
The eerie green light shone from the depths of the tunnel, radiating endless evil through the swirling green mist. Indistinct whispers lingered in their ears, voices raspy and low, as if countless insects were crawling against their ears in the middle of the night.
It seems we have found our target. We have not even seen it yet, and its mere existence is already exuding such deterrence. Aside from an avatar of an evil god, there is likely no other possibility.
It is inside. We have found it.
"Click, click."
However, just as Lynch realized this and before he could even feel happy, he was suddenly startled by the sound of teeth chattering beside him. He turned his head to see Miss Valente, who had gone deathly pale, her entire body trembling, her teeth knocking together incessantly.
Are we under attack? Where is the enemy?
Lynch was shocked. He quickly shielded her behind him and looked around, but the area was empty. He could see no anomalies, could not find a trace of an enemy, only the eerie green light that made one's skin crawl.
What is happening?
The change was intense. In a matter of seconds, Miss Valente had collapsed to the ground, weak. Not only was her speech slurred, but her muscles were shaking, and she could not even manage the action of reaching into her pocket. Her mouth made clicking sounds, her eyes flashed with frantic glints from time to time, and her expression turned distorted and grim.
What should I do?
"Help me... quickly... pocket... smoke."
Taking advantage of a moment when her eyes regained clarity, Miss Valente endured the mental chaos and practically hissed out the words. Her grim expression kept Lynch from hesitating; he dove forward to search her clothing pockets, rapidly pulling out a pile of sundries, among which were two green cigarettes.
It must be this. Quickly.
Lynch shoved one into her mouth and lit it. Watching her take greedy, deep drags, he felt anxious and stared fixedly at her expression.
Fortunately, after a few puffs, the color slowly returned to Miss Valente's face. Her trembling hands finally steadied, and her gaze became calm.
"Phew, that was just in time." The noblewoman let out a long sigh, managed a weak smile, and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. "If not for you, I fear I would have gone mad on the spot and never awakened."
"What exactly happened?" Lynch frowned. "Is this the corruption brought by the filth of the evil god? You were not about to become distorted, were you?"
Lynch remembered Officer Angel explaining to him that mystery filth eroding the soul often manifested as intense emotional fluctuations, with fear being the most typical.
"Nearly. It was very dangerous. The moment I realized this deterrence was from an evil god, my soul suffered a violent impact. If not for this soul-returning grass temporarily stabilizing my soul, I fear I would not have come back."
Miss Valente took a few more hurried puffs before stubbing out the cigarette and putting it away.
"This is my first time encountering such an existence; I was too dismissive of it. I truly did not expect that even as just a sleeping avatar, its mere presence would nearly shatter my soul's defenses. I dare not imagine what would happen if it were the true body."
Damn it, just realizing its existence was enough to nearly turn her into a lunatic or a monster?
Lynch realized that perhaps having easily outwitted two evil gods previously had made him somewhat dismissive of these high-level beings. Relying on his ability to activate divine authority, he had rushed in without any preparation, and his supplies were not even as comprehensive as a noblewoman's. He had truly wasted his time watching all those shows.
If this continues, I will end up killing myself sooner or later. How could I have forgotten what the neighbor said? I only have a possibility of winning; it all depends on how I act.
'I am truly sorry, neighbor.'
【Hmm, it is not too late.】
Taking a deep breath to regain the caution he felt when he first arrived in this world, Lynch smiled and held his hand out to Miss Valente: "Can you continue in your condition?"
"We must continue. We are constantly being eroded by the evil god's filth here. The longer we stay, the heavier the pollution becomes, and we will become distorted before long."
Miss Valente's face was still somewhat pale, but her spirit had returned to normal, and there was a gleam in her eyes. She gave Lynch a gentle smile and took out several cigarettes, placing them into Lynch's hand as she said:
"Do not worry. With the support of the soul-returning grass, and since I have already withstood the initial impact, I should not have any more trouble for a while. You are truly remarkable. This is racial memory inscribed deep within the soul—our instinctive fear of the Great Old Ones—yet you were completely unaffected. Even if you are not afraid, you should still take a few as a precaution."
"I was affected too, just to a lesser degree, and I recovered very quickly. According to what you said, it is very likely because I do not have so much messy stuff inscribed in my soul, making me more suitable for confronting evil gods. A friend once said I am quite special."
With Miss Valente as a comparison, Lynch finally realized how unique his willpower was. No wonder the neighbor repeatedly emphasized that he was special. However, since he had decided to remain cautious and not be arrogant again, Lynch thought for a moment and simply asked Miss Valente for a piece of soul-returning grass. He lit it, took a deep breath, and entered the only tunnel.
The tunnel was deep, and the green light grew increasingly intense. As they moved one after another, their heartbeats quickened, and their emotions became increasingly tense. They did not know how long they had been deep inside when the space ahead suddenly opened up, and the green light flared brilliantly.
An extremely distorted and eerie existence finally appeared in its full form before Lynch and Miss Valente.
The King of Ghouls, Mordiggian.
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