The lake-like mass of gray sludge was already bizarre enough, but it was made all the more unsettling by the endless, churning sea of severed heads floating within it.
Faced with such a grotesque sight, an indescribable wave of terror washed over Lynch.
He even had the terrifying delusion that the floating heads were still alive. His entire body went rigid with goosebumps, and his chest heaved as a wave of nausea nearly made him vomit on the spot.
He jerked back beneath the ship's rail, using the deck as cover, and gulped down several mouthfuls of seawater, the bitterness finally washing away the sickness in his throat.
Whew, hell, what is that thing?
Wiping away non-existent cold sweat, Lynch pressed a hand against his frantic heart and gritted his teeth. He changed his position and poked his head out again, determined to confirm what he had just seen.
The horror on the deck remained unchanged. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of heads were still wallowing in the sludge... damn it.
Under Lynch's very gaze, a head that had been weeping with closed eyes suddenly stopped bobbing. It snapped its eyes open, a pair of pale, dead orbs locking directly onto him, while its weeping face seemed to contort into a hideous grin.
One pair, two pairs, three pairs...
Head after head stopped drifting, turning like sunflowers toward him. They opened their eyes, which were filled with a cold, desperate malice, and every face seemed to be sneering. An intense, malevolent pressure slammed into Lynch's brain, and he could almost hear the sound of countless insane voices laughing in his ears.
Not good.
Lynch pushed off the ship's hull with all four limbs, shooting backward like an arrow to put distance between them as quickly as possible. Fortunately, the heads did not pursue him; once he cleared a certain range, they resumed their aimless bobbing in the sludge.
Damn it, this is likely why no other living thing dares to approach this shipwreck.
Lynch retreated rapidly, not stopping until he had put a dozen meters of distance between them. As the oppressive sensation of filth finally faded, his body turned limp, his strength feeling as if it had been drained away. His heart hammered with unprecedented intensity, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.
This thing is definitely not some simple creature; it is likely a highly powerful and mysterious anomaly.
Lynch quietly exhaled a breath of cold air, still shaken as he confirmed once more that the monster on the deck was not following him.
No, I cannot enter from the front. Should I try to infiltrate through the holes in the hull below? Perhaps I won't alert the monster on the deck?
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he slapped himself.
Believing in luck is even more foolish than believing I am Emperor Rudolph II. When facing the unknown, one must maintain the utmost vigilance.
While he was still contemplating, Lynch suddenly felt the seawater around him pulsing rhythmically. Shortly after, a dull, muffled drumming sound traveled through the water into his ears.
Lynch's heart tightened. He realized something had gone wrong; these deep ones had already made their move.
Soon, a hoarse, low chanting echoed in his ears. The sound was not loud, yet it struck his heart like a heavy hammer.
"Ia! Dagon! I, Haewon, solemnly swear that I, as one of the deep ones, shall fight alongside Dagon. If I abandon this oath, I shall be shunned by all, judged unworthy of Dagon's favor, and shall accept all penalties prescribed, even death. Ia! Dagon!"
With the chanting, the seawater on the deck suddenly began to churn. The sludge expanded rapidly, and the heads aligned themselves neatly, forming several tentacles made of severed heads. They lashed out above the deck, whipping the surrounding sea and creating countless surging currents that stirred everything in the vicinity.
"Ia! Dagon! I, Haewon, solemnly swear that I shall do my utmost and use every means to provide all possible aid to Dagon. If I abandon this oath, I shall be shunned by all, judged unworthy of Dagon's favor, and shall accept all penalties prescribed, even death. Ia! Dagon!"
The low chanting grew increasingly shrill, and the tentacles formed by the heads stretched longer, covering a wider area of the sea. Thump, thump. With another dull and eerie drumbeat, the eyes of the heads forming the tentacles snapped open. Each one wore a hideous expression, their mouths agape as they let out shrill, piercing wails.
Damn it, this is so bizarre.
As the first and second declarations were completed, Lynch had been forced to retreat step by step. The monster did not seem to have pinpointed his exact location yet, merely swinging its tentacles aimlessly, but discovery was only a matter of time.
Heaven knows what other tricks this monster has, and that is not even counting the deep ones, who have yet to make their move.
I cannot wait any longer.
Lynch gritted his teeth and reactivated the telepathic conch, tapping out a signal to the other side.
It seemed a bit late, for the third drumbeat sounded, and the third round of chanting had begun.
"Ia! Dagon! I, Haewon, solemnly swear that I shall live and die with R'lyeh, defending Dagon with my life, and defending R'lyeh with my life. We shall, according to Dagon's will, ensure the prosperity of R'lyeh. If I abandon this oath, I shall be shunned by all, judged unworthy of Dagon's favor, and shall accept all penalties prescribed, even death. Ia! Dagon!"
With the conclusion of the third declaration, the previously chaotic and churning sea suddenly fell silent. There was no warning, no transition; it was as if time had suddenly frozen.
The sea shook violently, the gray sludge expanded further, and more heads joined the tentacles. Finally, the entire mass of sludge detached from the ship's hull and floated in the sea like a massive, monstrous entity, its tentacle-like limbs of heads snapping and tearing at everything in the surrounding waters.
Countless heads brushed past him, rising and falling. Their pale, eerie eyes, accompanied by shrill, insane sneers, were enough to make one's blood run cold.
There was nowhere left to hide, but Lynch did not despair. He simply stood upright on the seabed amidst the rolling heads and raised his middle finger toward the mass of gray sludge, offering a cross-world gesture of friendship.
I have someone backing me up, you stupid monster.
The next moment, a pitch-black, glistening, giant octopus tentacle descended from above, smashing heavily into the center of the gray sludge. Then, one after another, at least a dozen more tentacles struck the surface of the sludge in turns. With every hit, the tentacle of heads would writhe and struggle violently, the expressions on each face becoming increasingly pained and distorted.
Bang. Following the octopus tentacles, a bizarre, twisted behemoth fell from the surface, crashing heavily into the gray sludge.
It was difficult to describe what it was; one could only call it a humanoid figure composed of tentacles and raw flesh. Watching this behemoth tangle with the gray sludge, Lynch felt his throat go dry. He really did not want to know exactly whose backer he had just called upon.
"For R'lyeh! For the Lord of R'lyeh!"
Seeing their own behemoth being pinned down, a low, hoarse roar echoed from the shipwreck. A large group of deep ones, led by a white-haired fish-man, charged out of the cabin, blades drawn, and lunged toward Lynch's reinforcements.
A good opportunity. Now is the time.
Lynch, who had been motionless, finally moved. Maintaining his lurking state, he strode toward the shipwreck. He waited until no more deep ones emerged from the cabin before hardening his heart and plunging inside.
Boom. The waves crashed against the hull; the battle outside was clearly intensifying as the two ancestral enemies stirred up a storm beneath the surface, but none of that mattered to Lynch anymore.
At least, for the moment.
Because he had already slipped into the cabin of the Cold Crow.
There was surprisingly no water inside the cabin. He did not know what method the deep ones had used to keep the interior of the sunken ship remarkably dry. Some chambers still remained as they were before the ship sank, with piles of cargo stacked high, though the air was foul and nauseating.
Lynch only took a brief tour of one deck before frowning, realizing he had a problem.
This was a fully loaded, large cargo ship with dozens of cabins and countless amounts of cargo. Trying to find a small wooden box in here was no different than trying to find a single strand of wool on a sheep.
It was an almost impossible task.
Moreover, no one could be sure when those deep ones would return. He had no time to search carefully; he had to find the gem as quickly as possible.
Lynch stared at the honeycomb of cabins before him, feeling quite conflicted.
Rate on N.U.
