V2: Chapter 60: Is the Tower Master Dying?
It's such a large town; you can't just knock on every door. But since the priest said it was a villager, he must be in a nearby village. You can start searching from there.
As soon as she entered the village, Octaville had a strange feeling.
The villagers there had an indescribable strangeness. Their eyes always seemed to hide something deep and indescribable, as if they were spying on some secret that didn't belong to this world. Their behavior was also quite peculiar.
Specifically, Octaville discovered this at night. Having found nothing during the day, Octaville went outside late at night, eavesdropping like a thief.
She discovered that many villagers gathered together in the dead of night, whispering, seemingly discussing something unsettling.
Octaville recalled that while wandering around the town earlier that day, she had felt a strange sense of oppression and unease. She tried to communicate with the villagers, but their answers were always vague, or even evasive. This deepened Octaville's suspicion about the villagers' strange behavior; there must be some secret behind it.
As time passed, the next day, when Octaville and the magicians went to investigate again, they gradually discovered some clues.
They noticed that the villagers showed extraordinary reverence for an ancient temple in the town, bowing respectfully every time they passed it. And around the temple, an eerie atmosphere permeated the air, as if something was secretly watching everything.
Octaville stood at the edge of the village, the night breeze gently blowing through her long hair. In the moonlight, she saw a villager staggering from the direction of the temple. The man's eyes were vacant, and he was muttering incantations, as if he had been terrified by something horrifying.
She stepped forward and asked softly, "Friend, what's wrong? Why are you so flustered?"
The villager looked up, his eyes revealing a mixture of fear and fascination.
He stammered, "You...you don't know, the temple... there's something in the temple..."
"What's in the temple?" Octaville pressed.
She had tried to go in during the day, but the villagers had stopped her, saying that it was the village god and outsiders were not allowed to enter, otherwise the god would be angry and punish her. Octaville had planned to sneak in at night, but not far away, she saw a seemingly madman she had met during the day enter the temple first.
She remembered the madman; he had knocked a cookie out of her hand during the day.
As they approached the temple, the madman staggered out.
"What is it? Tell me!" Octaville was getting impatient; the madman stammered for a long time, unable to utter a single word of confirmation.
Helpless, Octaville could only try to coax him.
"Tell me, tell me and you won't be afraid anymore. Because I can protect you, I can help you solve the problem, you have to believe me."
"Really?"
"Really."
Octaville nodded vigorously.
The villager swallowed hard, his voice trembling even more: "It's Cthulhu... it's the evil god Cthulhu! We've been worshipping it, but it's getting stronger and more terrifying. It... it will devour all our souls!"
The evil god... Cthulhu?
The magicians exchanged glances, understanding dawning on them.
"I never expected to see these mentally unstable Cthulhu cultists here." A magician sneered, pulling a magic wand from his pocket. "Let's go, let's go in and destroy the evil god's statue, I bet that evil god won't show itself!"
Hearing this, Octaville gave the speaker a deep look. Sure enough, a young magician, his words were still too naive.
She pressed the fool, "Why do you worship it? Aren't you afraid of it?"
The villager gave a bitter laugh.
"Afraid? Of course we are afraid, but we are even more afraid of its power. It gives us power, allowing us to survive in this cruel world. We thought that by worshipping it, we could appease its wrath, but we never expected... it has become increasingly greedy, increasingly insatiable..."
She had found the key.
"No wonder they all wanted to hide it; it's profitable." Octaville sighed, shaking her head.
Throughout the conversation, she carefully maintained her composure, trying to extract more information from the villagers. She noticed a flicker of fear and awe in their eyes when they mentioned Cthulhu, as if the name itself possessed an irresistible power.
Finally, when Octaville felt she couldn't get any more information and was about to leave, the villager suddenly grabbed her hand, his voice urgent, "You must be careful, never provoke it, otherwise, we will all die..."
Octaville glanced at him and nodded slightly.
"Don't worry, I will... do my best to keep you all alive."
But only "do my best," not "definitely."
This Octaville couldn't, like Liang Lin, confidently and passionately declare, "I will definitely protect you."
The ancient and eerie temple stood there, like a silent behemoth guarding its inner secrets. The temple's outer walls were mottled and covered with the marks of time, overgrown with moss and vines, giving it a desolate and mysterious feel.
The temple doors were tightly shut, as if no one had ever opened them, yet even in broad daylight, people came in droves. The iron rings on the doors were rusted, revealing a sense of vicissitude and loneliness. Scattered on the stone steps before the doors were strange offerings: withered branches and leaves, broken dolls, and some unexplained talismans, seemingly silently telling of the eeriness and mystery of this place.
Octaville cautiously pushed open the temple doors, a chilling aura washing over her. As they stepped inside, the dim lighting made the interior even more sinister and terrifying. Strange patterns were painted on the walls, seemingly writhing, as if something was lurking within them.
At the center stood a colossal statue—the image of Cthulhu.
It had an octopus-like head, tentacles reaching out in all directions, seemingly ready to devour everything. The statue's eyes seemed to see through everything, gleaming with a cold, eerie light that sent shivers down one's spine.
Below the statue was a massive altar. Various strange offerings were laid upon it, some dried up, others still emitting a strange odor. The ground around the altar was damp, as if some kind of ritual had just taken place there.
Something terrible existed within the altar.
The moment Octaville stepped into the temple, she felt an intense sense of oppression emanating from the direction of the altar. Her heart raced, yet her steps, unconsciously, led her toward the mysterious and dangerous source.
"Lord Tower Master..."
The other magicians sensed it too, and they couldn't help but speak.
"Shh~" Octaville made a shushing gesture, raising her hand. "Don't follow me. I'll go take a look first. Don't follow me."
"Yes, Lord Tower Master."
The altar was located in the center of the temple, surrounded by a circle of dim light. The light flickered, as if something was absorbing it. Octaville approached and saw various strange objects on the altar: dried snakeskin, a broken mirror, a blood-dripping dagger... each exuding an unsettling aura.
Finally, her gaze fell on the human child, its body disemboweled.
"Hiss~"
Octaville couldn't help but gasp.
These villagers had completely lost their minds, being so cruel to a child.
However, what chilled Octavian most was a huge recess in the center of the altar. Within that recess seemed to lurk some enormous creature. Although she couldn't see its full form, the chilling aura and malevolent presence emanating from the abyss was undeniable.
It felt so familiar.
Octaville cautiously reached out, wanting to touch the edge of the recess, but was stopped by an invisible force. Her fingers felt as if they had been repelled by cold, hard scales, and pain instantly spread throughout her body.
"What... is this?"
Octaville murmured to herself, a strong unease rising within her. She sensed that the thing in this altar was intricately connected to the Cthulhu god. It might be the source of the town's evil god's power, or perhaps a portal through which one of Cthulhu's monstrous avatars descended upon this town.
Just as Octaville was still pondering, suddenly, the light on the altar dimmed, plunging the entire temple into complete darkness.
Octaville's heart pounded; she sensed something approaching. She immediately drew her magic wand from her sleeve, gripping it tightly, bracing herself for the impending danger.
In the darkness, she heard a low, drawn-out roar, a sound seemingly from the depths of hell, filled with endless evil and terror. Then, a powerful force erupted from the altar, forcing Octaville back several steps.
She managed to regain her footing and looked up. In a recess in the altar, a pair of scarlet eyes gleamed in the darkness. Those eyes were filled with cruelty and evil, as if they wanted to devour her.
Octaville shuddered. Although the monster was terrifying, when Octaville's eyes met its gaze, she didn't hallucinate.
"Phew~" she breathed a sigh of relief.
It didn't seem like a high-level monster, but…
Octaville squinted at the monster before her. She didn't recall seeing these monster in any books. Was it a new species?
Of course, she couldn't think about that now.
"Kill it!"
Octaville commanded.
With her order, everyone rushed forward, except for Bradrick.
Octaville sighed, directing Bradrick to a safe corner, cover his head, and crouch down to avoid being accidentally injured.
"That's why I said! One opening is enough!"
Dealing with this seemingly weak monster didn't even require Octaville's intervention; the other four magicians were more than enough.
Leading them was an older female magician, holding a jewel-encrusted staff, her eyes gleaming with unwavering determination. She softly chanted an ancient incantation, her voice as melodious as heavenly music, yet containing powerful magic.
As the incantation continued, a mysterious power began to permeate the air. Suddenly, the female magician raised her staff, pointed it at the monster, and shouted something incomprehensible. As soon as she finished speaking, a dazzling light shot from the tip of her staff, striking the monster directly.
The monster let out a shrill scream, its movements instantly slowing. Immediately afterward, the other three magicians unleashed their magical attacks.
A male magician waved his spellbook, summoning flames that engulfed the monster in a sea of fire; another female magician gently waved her magic fan, a gust of cold wind howling past, fanning the flames even more fiercely.
The last, young male magician, gathered a powerful surge of lightning, and a bolt of lightning struck the monster, utterly crushing it. With a deafening roar, the monster's massive body crashed to the ground, visibly shriveling up.
So easily defeated?
The crowd looked at each other in disbelief.
“Why does this monster seem weaker than the ones from the beach we saw before?” The magicians all found it strange, and Octaville thought so too.
She wanted to go and examine it.
“I’ll go see if it’s some new species.”
Octaville leaned closer to look.
On the dark altar, the previously shriveled monster suddenly began to writhe, as if summoned by some mysterious force. Its body gradually became rounder, and the once withered wrinkles and depressions now seemed to be infused with new life, beginning to plump up.
The previously dull skin now began to shimmer with a strange luster. That luster didn’t come from the reflection of external light, but emanated from within the monster, as if an inner power was gradually awakening.
All this talk, but when it actually happened beside Octaville, only two seconds had passed. Octaville was startled and reflexively tried to dodge.
But… she couldn’t dodge it at all.
How close was she? To get a clear look at the monster, she practically pressed herself against it. The distance to the monster was incredibly close.
It was too late; she had to dodge.
A tentacle pierced straight into Octaville's chest; there was no time to flinch.
Thud!
The sound of flesh being pierced suddenly rang out, sharp and piercing, like a terrifying symphony of metal tearing through flesh, instantly shattering the silence around the altar.
"Lord Tower Master!!!"
Behind Octaville came the screams of the magicians and Bradrick, who had been watching intently.
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