Chapter 59
CRUNCH!
BOOM!
RUMBLE!
WHOOSH!
The first thing to arrive was a group of Mud Needles several meters thick and long.
The sharpened spears erupted from the ground.
They pierced straight through Ugthun.
Before he could respond, enormous steel pillars launched from magic circles in the air and struck him repeatedly.
Missile Magic and Spear Magic rained down by the dozens.
Some formations released smoke.
Others released mist.
Tree roots erupted from the floor and wrapped around Ugthun.
Paralysis spells followed.
For one brief moment, he became completely unable to move.
More than one hundred expedition members had gathered all their mana for one single target.
The decision seemed so unbelievably foolish that Ugthun was genuinely confused.
“Ghk... You dare...!”
He struggled inside the attacks.
“You think this changes anything?! You’re only rushing toward death!”
Ugthun shouted.
“Your fate was decided the moment you entered this place!”
Fools.
Absolute fools.
These outsiders clearly knew little about the Dungeon.
But even then, how could they make such a foolish choice?
Everyone knew the Great Old Ones were hostile toward the residents of the Dark Lands.
These outsiders should know that better than most.
It created an unavoidable contradiction.
They needed to conquer the Dungeon while facing beings that were naturally hostile toward them.
But launching a frontal battle without even understanding the enemy’s ability?
That was completely unreasonable.
Normally, someone would send one or two scouts.
Observe.
Gather information.
Then act.
They would never openly declare war like this.
And yet these people were wasting every bit of mana they had on a meaningless barrage.
It looked almost like...
Like a desperate all-out attack from someone who believed victory was already guaranteed.
“......No way.”
Ugthun could no longer see Yohan.
But his Apostle body sent a warning.
The outsider Apostle...
Yohan Blake...
Was approaching his master.
“No! Impossible!”
Ugthun struggled violently.
“A mere human could never create such a miracle!”
He should never have said that.
Ugthun knew better than anyone how dangerous even the smallest crack in absolute faith could be for an Apostle.
He immediately imagined the hundreds of authorities his master had shown him.
He imagined the immortal army born from them.
Then he shook away his doubt.
Ugthun shouted at the soldiers who had been fighting the expedition half-heartedly.
“Those bastards are irredeemable blasphemers who dared oppose Bulsum!”
His voice roared.
“Kill them! Kill every last one and bring their corpses before me!”
But Ugthun would never see the result of that command.
Something unknown wrapped around his entire body.
His consciousness rapidly faded.
The combined assault had bought Yohan several minutes in which Ugthun could not interfere.
He reached Bulsum almost instantly.
Then he removed the object he had carefully stored away.
Bulsum’s authority was certainly powerful.
Still...
Many beings in this world possessed titles like undying, immortal, or deathless.
Great Old Ones themselves generally existed beyond the concept of death.
Many of their creations, familiars, followers, and Apostles were also immortal.
Bulsum’s slave soldiers were no exception.
But true immortality was something very few possessed.
The slave soldiers only had conditional immortality.
If the divine being granting that authority changed its mind or lost power, their immortality would disappear instantly.
Fragile existences.
Once, Yohan himself had wished to become something like that.
Now it no longer mattered.
He held a completely black statue.
It released an aura even darker than its surface.
Ominous mana spread around it.
Yohan held the statue with both hands.
Then he moved it toward Bulsum’s body, still hidden beneath dozens of meters of Aura.
The Black Pharaoh Idol.
Its right hand held a staff covered in snake designs.
Its left held a spear with four wings.
Both genuine and replica versions possessed the same appearance and usage method.
The only difference was the number of times they could be activated.
Using it was simple.
Fill the item with the user’s mana.
Add the target’s mana.
Then chant the words required to borrow that being’s authority.
Bulsum’s mana already filled the cavern in the form of fragrance.
Yohan only needed to add his own.
To make recognition even clearer, he allowed several drops of blood to fall onto the idol.
The statue began releasing pale gray light.
It was ready.
Yohan closed his eyes.
He spoke a short chant in the language of those beings.
A language he had heard and used long ago.
“Ph’nglui glunafta Nyarlathotep Devermos ganagl fhtagn...”
The creator and original owner of the Black Pharaoh Idol.
Nyarlathotep.
The Crawling Chaos.
Through this item, Yohan requested the use of His authority.
Every sentient creature understood what borrowing the power of beings greater than even the Great Old Ones meant.
That was exactly why almost nobody willingly made such a choice.
The consequences were nearly always fatal.
Some went insane.
Others suffered permanent mental corruption.
Some died as every blood vessel in their body ruptured.
Others had their skin shrivel until they dried to death.
Yohan experienced almost none of those side effects.
Especially from items created by Nyarlathotep.
He did not know why.
Maybe because he was already the Apostle of an Inner God.
Maybe the goddess had raised his resistance to mental corruption too much.
Maybe it was because he was immortal.
Whatever the reason...
It worked.
WOOOOOM!
The idol reacted to the chant.
Its light became far stronger.
The authority inside activated.
