Lynch Was Here

The lake-like ocean of gray silt was already incredibly bizarre, not to mention the hundreds of heads rolling and churning continuously within it.

Confronted with such a bizarre scene, an indescribable wave of terror welled up in Lynch's heart.

Lynch even had the illusion that these floating heads were still alive. He felt his hair stand on end, his body stiffening, and his stomach churned with a sudden wave of nausea so intense he nearly vomited on the spot.

He quickly ducked back below the gunwale, using the deck to shield himself. Opening his mouth, he swallowed several gulps of seawater, using the bitter taste to wash away the nausea in his chest.

Whew, dammit, what the hell is that thing?

Wiping away a non-existent cold sweat, Lynch gritted his teeth, his heart pounding wildly. He shifted to a different spot and poked his head out again, intending to confirm what he had just seen.

The eerie sight on the deck remained unchanged. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of heads were still in the silt... Holy shit.

Right before Lynch's eyes, one of the heads that had been weeping with closed eyes suddenly stopped bobbing. It snapped its tightly shut eyes open, staring straight in Lynch's direction with a pair of pale, ghastly eyes. A sinister grin seemed to spread across its tear-stained face.

One pair, two pairs, three pairs...

One by one, more heads stopped bobbing, turning like sunflowers toward Lynch's direction. They opened cold, despair-inducing eyes to stare at him, each face bearing a malicious grin. An intense wave of malice slammed into Lynch's mind, and he could almost hear countless maniacal laughs ringing in his ears.

This is bad.

Lynch pushed off the hull with his limbs, his body launching backward like an arrow to put distance between them as quickly as possible. Fortunately, the heads did not pursue him. Once Lynch had retreated to a safe distance, they resumed their bobbing and sinking in the silt.

Damn, this is probably why no living creature dares to approach the shipwreck.

Lynch retreated rapidly until he was over ten meters away. Only when the repulsive sensation finally vanished did he realize his entire body had gone weak, as if his strength had been entirely drained. His heart pounded with unprecedented fury, and even his lips trembled uncontrollably.

This thing is definitely not friendly. It's likely a highly powerful, mysterious heteromorph.

Lynch quietly exhaled a breath of cold air, checking once more with lingering fear to ensure the bizarre thing on the deck wasn't pursuing him.

No, I can't go in from the front. Maybe I should try slipping in through the holes at the bottom? Perhaps that won't alert the monster on the deck?

The moment the thought crossed his mind, Lynch slapped himself.

Relying on luck was about as sensible as believing he was Emperor Rudolph II. When dealing with the unknown, one had to maintain the utmost vigilance.

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Lynch suddenly felt the surrounding seawater undulating rhythmically, followed by the dull sound of a drum filtering through the water.

Lynch's heart tightened. He realized something had gone wrong after all; the deep ones were already making their move.

Soon, a hoarse, low chanting echoed in his ears. The sound wasn't loud, but it struck Lynch's heart like a heavy hammer.

“Iä! Dagon! I, Haewon, solemnly swear that as a deep one, I shall fight side by side with Dagon. Should I forsake this oath, let me be shunned by all, judged unworthy of Dagon's favor, and receive all decreed punishments, even unto death. Iä! Dagon!”

With the chanting, the seawater on the deck suddenly began to churn. The lake of silt expanded rapidly, and the heads lined up in perfect order, forming several tentacles made of human heads. They lashed out into the water above the deck, relentlessly whipping the surrounding sea, stirring up countless surging undercurrents that agitated everything around them.

“Iä! Dagon! I, Haewon, solemnly swear that I will do my utmost and use every means to provide all assistance to Dagon. Should I forsake this oath, let me be shunned by all, judged unworthy of Dagon's favor, and receive all decreed punishments, even unto death. Iä! Dagon!”

The low chanting grew increasingly high-pitched, and the tentacles of heads stretched longer and longer, covering a wider area of the sea. Thump, thump. With another dull, eerie beat of the drum, the eyes of the heads forming the tentacles suddenly snapped open. Every single one of them wore a grotesque expression, their mouths gaping wide as they unleashed sharp, agonizing shrieks.

Damn, this is so bizarre.

As the first and second oaths were completed, Lynch was forced to retreat step by step. The monster didn't seem to have pinned down his location yet, merely waving its tentacles aimlessly, but it was only a matter of time before he was discovered.

Heaven knew what other tricks this monster had up its sleeve, not to mention that the deep ones had yet to make their move.

He couldn't wait any longer.

Gritting his teeth, Lynch activated the telepathic conch once more, tapping on it to send a signal to the other side.

It seemed a bit too late, for a third beat of the drum echoed, and the third chant had already begun.

“Iä! Dagon! I, Haewon, solemnly swear that I will live and die with R'lyeh, defending Dagon with my life, and defending R'lyeh with my life. As Dagon wishes, we shall make R'lyeh prosper and flourish. Should I forsake this oath, let me be shunned by all, judged unworthy of Dagon's favor, and receive all decreed punishments, even unto death. Iä! Dagon!”

As the third oath concluded, the chaotic, churning sea suddenly fell silent. There was no warning, no transition; it was as if time itself had frozen.

Then, the seawater shuddered violently. The expanse of gray silt grew larger and larger, and more heads joined the tentacles. Ultimately, the entire mass of silt detached from the ship's hull and floated in the sea like a colossal beast, its human-head tentacles snapping and biting wildly at the surroundings.

Countless heads swept past him, bobbing up and down. Their pale, eerie eyes, accompanied by sharp, manic grins, were enough to shatter anyone's courage.

There was nowhere left to hide, yet Lynch did not despair. He stood straight on the seabed amidst the surging tide of heads, raising his middle finger toward the mass of gray silt in a universally friendly gesture.

I have a powerful backer, you foolish monster.

The next moment, a colossal, pitch-black, glossy octopus tentacle descended from above, slamming heavily into the center of the gray silt. Then, one after another, at least a dozen tentacles took turns thrashing the surface of the silt. With every strike, the human-head tentacles writhed and struggled violently, the expressions on each head twisting in ever-increasing agony.

Thud. Following closely behind the octopus tentacles, a bizarre, twisted behemoth plummeted from the surface, crashing heavily into the gray silt.

It was hard to describe what it was—only that it was a humanoid shape composed of tentacles and chunks of flesh. Watching this behemoth tangle with the gray silt, Lynch felt his throat go dry. He didn't want to know what kind of entity's thigh he had just clung to.

“For R'lyeh! For the Lord of R'lyeh!”

Seeing their behemoth pinned down, a low, hoarse roar echoed from the shipwreck once more. Immediately, a large swarm of deep ones, led by a white-haired fishman, brandished sharp blades and surged out of the cabins, lunging toward Lynch's reinforcements.

A perfect opportunity. Now was the time.

Lynch, who had been standing motionless, finally moved. Maintaining his lurking state, he dashed toward the shipwreck. Waiting until no more deep ones emerged from the cabins, he steeled his resolve and dove straight in.

Boom. Waves slammed against the hull. Clearly, the battle outside was growing increasingly fierce. The two mortal enemies whipped up raging waves beneath the sea, but none of this had anything to do with Lynch anymore.

Of course, only temporarily.

For he had already slipped into the cabins of the Cold Crow.

To his surprise, there was no water inside the cabins. He had no idea what method the deep ones had used to keep the shipwreck's interior exceptionally dry. Some of the cabins even remained exactly as they had been before sinking, with piles of cargo stacked high like mountains, though the air was incredibly foul and nauseating.

Lynch only took a brief tour of one deck of cabins, but his brow was already furrowed. He realized he was in for some trouble.

This was a fully loaded, massive cargo ship with dozens of cabins and countless goods inside. Trying to find a small wooden box in here was like trying to find a specific strand of wool on a sheep.

It was a nearly impossible task.

Moreover, no one could be sure when the deep ones would return. He didn't have the time to search thoroughly; he had to find the gemstone as quickly as possible.

Looking at the honeycomb-like network of cabins before him, Lynch fell into deep conflict.