Attempt

Lynch did not actually have much confidence; this was his first time dealing with a mysterious event independently.

Everything could only be inferred based on mysterious theory, and there was no experience to refer to.

He could only rely on himself to figure it out.

Lynch decided to charge to the entrance of the temple, the area closest to the core factor, and then fire his gun to create a sonic impact. If that still failed to wake her, he would use The Passion of the Blazing Lady to unleash a flame strike and set off a big firework.

At the very least, he had to try. In any case, there was still a margin for error, and his divine authority would be the final resort.

With his mind made up, Lynch leaped off the roof, moving from a slow pace to a rapid sprint, gripping his cane as he rushed in a straight line.

Twenty meters away.

The closer he got to the temple, the brighter the green light became, and his field of vision widened.

The wandering ghouls gradually grew sparse, eventually disappearing entirely, and the temple, crystalline and translucent like a palace of ice, appeared clearly before Lynch's eyes.

Several giant statues stood at the entrance. Their forms were indescribable, appearing like twisted masses of rotting flesh sprouted with dozens of eerie tentacles. As the dark green mist permeated the area, the tentacles on the statues twitched slightly, as if they were squirming and stretching.

Scattered between the giant statues were dozens of ghoul ice sculptures, kneeling beside the statues like a group of pilgrims.

The temple doors stood open, revealing a deep, dark space within. The green mist inside was even thicker, the green light eerie and dim, as if leading to a bizarre dream of eternal sinking.

"Zur-Baha-Sahr, Zur-Baha-Sahr."

The low murmur seemed to come vaguely from the dark depths inside the gate, yet it also sounded as if it were ringing directly in Lynch's ears out of thin air.

"Mordiggian, Mordiggian... Zur-Baha-Sahr..."

The whispering felt like countless voices murmuring in his ears, chanting the same words. It was dreamlike and illusory, indistinct yet pervasive. The sound was eerie and sharp, enough to make one's hair stand on end.

Fifteen meters.

The temperature grew lower and lower. The biting wind hit his face, freezing to the bone, and even his muscles began to stiffen.

The whispering grew more frequent. Beyond the biting wind blowing from the temple gates filled with dark green mist, there was also a foul, turbid stench. It blew onto his face from far away, and the combination of the foul odor and the corruption made his head ache uncontrollably, nearly causing him to retch.

Lynch increased his speed once more. The surrounding statues appeared increasingly tall as he approached, their oppressive, looming presence immense. This was especially true of the auxiliary ghoul statues; seen up close, they were lifelike, staring at Lynch as he sprinted past them, his form concealed.

They are carved so realistically, they must be trying to scare me on purpose. It would be a real mess if these things all came to life.

【Hehe.】

Hmm?

Ten meters.

He was already close to the giant tentacle ice sculptures. The sound of the never-ending whispering suddenly paused for a moment. The air seemed to freeze in that instant, as if billions of invisible eyes were staring at him from an angle Lynch could not comprehend. The sudden, massive pressure nearly caused him to lose control of his body.

Damn it, was I discovered? Theoretically, I should be opposing the ordinary human Maya. How could I have been discovered? Did I judge wrong from the very beginning?

Before the question could even fully form, he heard a faint clicking sound in his ear, like the sound of shattering glass.

It was only a slight noise, yet it sent cold sweat crawling down Lynch's spine. He suddenly launched himself forward, sprinting toward the open gates at maximum speed.

The moment he dashed out, his figure was revealed, and his concealment lost its effect entirely. Behind him, those ghoul ice sculptures shattered rapidly, revealing the ghouls themselves. They lunged at Lynch, their sharp claws gleaming with cold light, as if they could easily tear him to shreds.

Bang, bang, bang. Heavy footsteps sounded behind him, and the low growls of the ghouls merged into one. The stench of decay grew stronger. Under this stimulation, Lynch rushed forward without looking back.

Ten meters to go. Gritting his teeth, he thought, You won't catch me.

Five meters.

Click, click.

Fragments of ice flew through the air.

Within his field of vision, more and more ice sculptures shattered, and the frozen ghouls regained their vitality.

As soon as they awoke, the ghouls used their most agile movements to leap through the air toward the sprinting Lynch. For a time, the air was filled with the figures of ghouls running, jumping, and lunging. The cold light of their claws seemed to weave into a web of death in the air.

Thanks to Bastet.

If not for the Cat Goddess's gift last night, Lynch could swear to the Crimson Lady that he would have already been torn into thirty or so pieces.

Definitely more than that.

But now, he was as agile as a cat. Once again, he planted his hands on the ground, squeezed through a gap between the claws of two ghouls with a side roll, and then twisted his body to dodge a third ghoul lunging from above.

The sound of footsteps chasing behind him stopped abruptly. Lynch knew something was wrong. Without a second thought, he rolled to the side, and a tentacle several meters long struck from behind, smashing hard into the spot where Lynch had just been.

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

Three meters.

No, I'm going to die.

His divine authority was only active for three minutes. Lynch did not know its specific effects and dared not act recklessly or waste it, so he drew his pistol while rolling.

The distance is about right. Let's begin.

Before his roll finished, he had already raised his pistol. Whether he aimed or not didn't matter; he hit whatever he pointed at.

Bang, bang, bang.

Three gunshots rang out, and dark green blood splattered. Using the recoil, his body slid off the icy surface. After a few rolls, he used the momentum to stand up and continued to sprint toward the temple.

Damn, it's not working. I'll charge to the gates and try one more time.

In truth, it was working, and quite significantly at that.

More ice sculptures awoke from their frozen state and gathered quickly. Lynch didn't even look at them anymore; he slammed into a ghoul that was facing sideways to him, squeezed past it, and reached the temple entrance.

One last meter; the gate was within reach.

Then let's do it.

Backing against the icy surface at the side of the gate, Lynch emptied the rest of his magazine with three consecutive shots. The roar echoed through the ruined city, and the sound of the gunshots even echoed back from inside the temple.

There was no change in the surroundings; the dream showed no signs of breaking. This was within Lynch's expectations, and he did not mourn his failed plan for even a moment. He immediately put on the ring.

Success or failure depends on this. Blazing Lady, since we have cooperated so many times, please.

Amidst intense pain, he transformed into a human of flame. His body soared into the air, and then he punched down from above, slamming hard into the icy surface at the temple entrance.

This time, it was not a crescent-shaped wall of flame, but a pillar of flame that shot up from his fist. After reaching its highest point, it suddenly exploded in all directions, turning into a sky full of fire that swept across the surroundings.

The effect was significant.

Most of the surrounding ghouls were engulfed in flames, hissing as they burned, which only made them more frantic and increased the speed at which they lunged.

But the dream did not end.

This is bad. It seems I miscalculated.

Seeing all the surrounding monsters being attracted to him, Lynch knew he couldn't afford to hesitate. He gave a friendly, otherworldly gesture to the monsters behind him and turned to duck into the foul-smelling temple.

Yes, Lynch never liked to bet everything on one throw; this was the retreat he had planned all along.