Attempt

Lynch was actually uncertain inside; this was his first time dealing with a mystery event entirely on his own.

Everything had to be deduced from occult theory, without any prior experience to draw upon.

He could only feel his way forward by himself.

Lynch decided to charge to the front of the temple's entrance—the area closest to the core factor—and then fire his gun to create a concussive shock of noise. If that still failed to wake her, he would put on The Passion of the Blazing Lady, unleash a burst of flame, and set off a massive fireworks display.

He had to at least try. In any case, there was still room for error; Divine Authority remained his ultimate fallback.

Having made up his mind, Lynch leaped down from the rooftop, accelerating from a slow jog into a full sprint in a straight line with his cane in hand.

Twenty meters away.

The closer he drew to the temple, the brighter the green light became, widening his field of vision.

The wandering ghouls grew sparser and finally vanished entirely, revealing the crystal-palace-like, translucent temple clearly before Lynch's eyes.

Flanking the entrance stood several gigantic statues of indescribable appearance, looking like masses of twisted, rotten flesh sprouting dozens of bizarre tentacles. As the dark green mist swirled around them, the tentacles of the statues twitched faintly, as though writhing and stretching.

Between the giant statues, dozens of ice sculptures of ghouls were scattered about, kneeling around the monuments in postures of worship like a congregation of pilgrims.

The temple's grand doors stood wide open, exposing a profound, pitch-black space within, where the green fog was even thicker. The eerie green light flickered faintly, as if leading toward a bizarre dream of eternal damnation.

“Zur-Baha-Sahr, Zur-Baha-Sahr.”

A low mutter seemed to drift faintly from the murky depths beyond the doorway, yet also sounded as though it were ringing directly by Lynch's ear out of thin air.

“Mordiggian, Mordiggian... Zur-Baha-Sahr...”

The murmurs felt like countless voices whispering directly into his ear, chanting the same words. Half-real and half-illusion, ephemeral and sharp, the bizarre voices sent shivers down his spine.

Fifteen meters away.

The temperature plunged even lower. The biting wind buffeted his face, chilling to the bone, causing his muscles to stiffen.

The whispering grew more frequent. Blowing out from the temple gates swathed in dark green fog, alongside the bone-chilling wind, was a foul, turbid stench that struck his face from afar. The confluence of rot and filth caused an excruciating headache and made him retch.

Lynch picked up his speed once more. As he drew closer, the surrounding statues loomed ever taller, exerting a heavy, overbearing pressure. The subordinate ghoul sculptures in particular were lifelike upon closer inspection, seemingly staring down at Lynch as he sped past beneath them with his form concealed.

Carving them so realistically—is that on purpose to scare people? If all of these come alive, things are going to get lively.

【Hehe.】

Hm?

Ten meters away.

Having drawn near the gigantic tentacled ice sculptures, the seemingly ceaseless murmurs suddenly paused for an instant. The air seemed to freeze in that moment, as though billions of invisible eyes were gazing upon Lynch from angles beyond his comprehension. The crushing pressure that materialized out of nowhere nearly made him lose control over his body.

Holy shit, was I spotted? Theoretically, I should only be contending with ordinary Maya, so how could I be discovered? Did I misjudge things from the very beginning?

Before the doubts could even fully form in his mind, a faint clicking sound reached his ears, like glass shattering.

It was just a faint sound, yet cold sweat instantly drenched Lynch's back. He abruptly burst into motion, bolting toward the open entrance at top speed.

The moment he surged forward, his silhouette materialized—his lurking had lost its effect completely. Behind him, the ghoul ice sculptures shattered in rapid succession, revealing the true bodies of the ghouls within. They pounced toward Lynch, sharp claws glinting with a cold glint that seemed capable of tearing him to shreds with ease.

Thud, thud, thud. Heavy footsteps echoed from behind as the low growls of ghouls merged into a chorus. The stench of decay thickened. Under this intense stimulus, Lynch sprinted forward without looking back.

Ten meters left. Grit your teeth; they won't catch you.

Five meters away.

Ice shards flew everywhere through the air.

Within his line of sight, more and more ice sculptures shattered, the frozen ghouls regaining their vitality.

The moment they awoke, the ghouls bounded through the air with extreme agility, leaping toward the sprinting Lynch. For a moment, the air was filled with silhouettes of ghouls running, leaping, and lunging through space, the cold gleam of their sharp claws weaving what looked like an inescapable net of death.

Thank you, Bastet.

If not for the cat god's gift last night, Lynch could swear by the red moon that he would have already been sliced into thirty-odd pieces.

Definitely more, not less.

But now, as nimble as a cat, he planted both hands on the ground again, executing a cartwheel that squeezed him right through the gap between the claws of two ghouls before twisting his torso to evade a third ghoul dropping from above.

The pursuing footsteps behind him abruptly ceased. Knowing something had changed, Lynch rolled to the side without a second thought. A tentacle several meters long swept in from behind, smashing violently into the spot where Lynch had just been.

Damn it, the tentacle sculptures are monsters too? What kind of ghost city is this?

Three meters away.

No good, I'm going to die.

Activating Divine Authority would only last three minutes. Lynch didn't know its precise effects and didn't dare waste it recklessly, so he drew his revolver while rolling across the ground.

The distance is close enough. Let's begin.

Before his roll even came to a halt, his revolver was already raised. Aiming didn't matter; wherever he pointed was where it would hit.

Three gunshots rang out as dark green blood splattered. Riding the recoil, his body skidded across the ice, rolling several times before using the momentum to scramble to his feet and resume sprinting toward the temple.

Shoot, no effect. Then I'll charge right up to the entrance and try again.

Actually, there was an effect—and a very noticeable one at that.

Even more ice sculptures awoke from their frozen slumber, rapidly congregating. Lynch didn't even bother looking; slamming hard into a ghoul that was turned sideways to him, he squeezed past it and dashed right to the entrance of the temple.

One final meter left—the entrance was within arm's reach.

Let's do this, then.

With his back against the ice beside the gate, Lynch fired another three consecutive shots to empty his cylinder. The booms echoed across the ruined city, and faint reverberations even bounced back from deep within the temple.

Nothing in the surroundings changed; there wasn't the slightest sign of the dream shattering. This was within Lynch's expectations. He didn't waste a second lamenting the failed plan, slipping on the ring immediately.

It's do or die on this one strike. Lady of Fire, since we've collaborated so many times, please do me a favor.

Amid excruciating pain, he transformed into a humanoid blaze. Leaping into the air, he brought a fist crashing down from above, slamming violently into the ice before the temple entrance.

This time, instead of a crescent wall of flame, a pillar of fire erupted skyward from the point of impact. Reaching its zenith, it suddenly detonated outward, turning into a sky full of rolling flames that swept through the surroundings.

The effect was remarkable.

Most of the surrounding ghouls caught fire, crackling and hissing as they burned, which only drove them into a greater frenzy and accelerated their lunges.

Yet the dream still didn't end.

Crap, looks like I misjudged.

Seeing all the monsters drawn toward him, Lynch knew there was no room for hesitation. He flashed a friendly, otherworld gesture behind him, turned around, and plunged into the foul-smelling temple.

Indeed, Lynch never liked putting all his eggs in one basket; this was the retreat path he had planned all along.