Chapter 35

Ode gave a vague reply. “Uh…”

He had just finished eating—in fact, he felt a bit stuffed. Right now, he was in a state of complete detachment, with no desire for seconds. “Depends. I’ll try talking first. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll see.”

It was just a standard agent’s combo move. Ode even calmly pondered whether Chorazin was the top or the bottom. Hopefully not the bottom, or he might need to pop a pill—some bastard had landed him in such a bad spot that he suspected he’d be in a refractory period for a good long while.

But Faust immediately frowned, set down his cigar with unmistakable finality, and said, “No. This isn’t Qian Ning Mansion. We all know charging in like that is just asking for death. Pharaoh trained you in seduction techniques to minimize harm, not so you could spot someone like Chorazin and rush headlong into the fire!”

He caught the obvious daze on Ode’s face and nearly laughed in exasperation. “Did it even occur to you how ‘team operation’ differs from your previous solo runs? If we’re moving together and you’re still the one scouting ahead into danger like before, what’s the point of me and Eva even being here?”

Ode answered just as frankly. “So what do you think you two can do?”

“We can—” Faust choked for a moment, taking a deep, forceful breath. Time might not have left its mark on his appearance, but leading this team felt like it was aging him a decade. “Remember when you first boarded and asked the captain about the ‘old man’? I’m assuming that’s the same elderly voice you heard back in Dreamcatcher Town?”

Ode followed Faust’s train of thought. “You think we can ask Him for help?”

Faust’s response was equally vague. “You mentioned Orion’s Yahweh before—that’s the classic, famous Elder God. Some might even call Him God.”

“Those ‘voices’ that appeared in Dreamcatcher Town, especially the Little Tooth Fairy who called herself the Dream New God, are clearly from the same camp as the Yahweh mentioned in the words, the one confronting Yog-Sothoth outside the town.”

“We can’t be sure of Their attitude toward humans, but we can be certain They’re mortal enemies with Great Old Ones like Cthulhu. The owner of that elderly voice has a good chance of being willing to lend a hand.”

“I think He definitely will,” Ode corrected. “They wouldn’t want me dead. Otherwise, back in Dreamcatcher Town, They wouldn’t have guided me so often or kept trying to meddle in my… relationship with Cavendish.”

Ode paused for a beat, choosing his words carefully. “…with Cavendish.”

Faust clapped his hands. “Then we might have a way to summon Him—at least Eva definitely does.”

“Think about it. The first time you hooked up with Cavendish, that voice intervened. But the second time, He didn’t show. Something must have distracted Him, leaving Him too preoccupied to play cockblock. My guess? Khirra. We all know someone took Khirra into the ocean trench, but when I spotted that thing on the ship, He was splashing around in the mist.”

“You think it was Him who brought Khirra aboard but lost her midway, so He’s been searching ever since?” Eva’s question sounded more like a confident statement. “You want to use Khirra as bait to lure out that elusive Elder God.”

Her expression was so calm that no one could tell a soft voice was twisting into a piercing screech right by her ear:

‘You dare… human! Don’t forget, if I drop the barrier on you, my father will sense your presence immediately. You’ll die on this ship! Our lives are linked… we’re in this together…’

‘I can tolerate some defiance… I can tolerate you helping that sharp-tongued human set up arrays everywhere and light that disgusting thing… but don’t take my tolerance for granted.’

‘Give me the reward you promised…’

Eva acted as if she heard nothing. Without the slightest hesitation, she continued flatly from where she’d left off. “I can try—”

A magnificent aurora suddenly tore through the night sky. A fog-shrouded sea, hiding cold gleams, surged in from the horizon.

Eva’s words cut off, her expression shifting slightly. “Behemoth’s back already—way too soon!”

.

Normally, a Great Old One repelled by an Elder Sign wouldn’t circle back so quickly.

Behemoth’s swift return was entirely due to Chorazin’s urging just minutes earlier.

“I know it wasn’t pleasant, but are you really okay leaving Khirra out there alone?”

Chorazin stretched his form languidly, reclining amid a vast bed of sea lilies. He let their feathery fronds probe him futilely for an opening, seeking food, only for them to droop quietly when they found none. In truth, every inch of his body was taut.

The sensation of that druid fish tail whipping across his cheek lingered vividly, even submerged in the dream-deep sea. The cold, slick touch still ghosted over his face.

“That human who killed Dagon is still on the ship. Aren’t you worried Khirra will meet the same fate?”

“Crackle.”

A vivid green arc of electricity flashed across the seafloor in an instant, scorching most of the resting sea lilies to charred husks and leaving yellow afterimages in his vision.

Chorazin didn’t so much as blink, let alone glance down at the blackened lilies—like a person striding over dunes who doesn’t pause to inspect a crushed anthill.

His true form actually resembled Cthulhu’s quite closely, but it was hazy and indistinct, like a desert mirage, shifting and elusive.

Flickers of static snow and lines, like a malfunctioning screen, sporadically appeared around him. Every two or three seconds, a blinding, searing green arc would erupt and coil across his body.

‘Chorazin.’ Behemoth rarely hesitated like this. “You seem… different from before. You used to be…”

Dull. Self-satisfied. A projection of the true self, devoid of any independent awareness.

Chorazin could easily finish the description his vocabulary-poor other half struggled with, but instead, he replied with water-like gentleness. “Every second we delay puts Khirra at greater risk. If she gets killed, what happens to the true body’s revival plan?”

Go. Fetch Khirra for me. Bring me the fool who dares offend.

With barely any independent thought of its own, Behemoth soon set off again under its other half’s lengthy poem and soft persuasion, heading once more for the battered ship.

On the deck.

Lightning ripped through the clouds, illuminating the slick planks in stark white.

In the pouring rain, Faust ignored the ship’s pitching. He pinched out the glowing ember of his cigar with the gold-adorned tip of his left index finger. The remaining half dissolved into a burst of alchemical fire. “Eva.”

Faust tensed, shoving Ode—who had synced into combat readiness with him—toward Eva. “Take him. I’ll buy time. Find backup and come relieve me.”

Caught off guard, Ode stumbled back a few steps. He barely stopped himself from face-planting into the chief’s arms, then whirled around with zero intention of obeying. “If I can’t fight for my life, you can? No— you take the chief and go. I’ll head into the Dream Realm first. You pull me out later!”

Faust nearly blacked out at the words. As team lead, the last thing he needed was a stubborn hothead. What blackened his vision even more was that before he could snap, Ode dove headfirst into the mist. The next second, he and Eva stared woodenly as a dull thud echoed from the fog—the sound of flesh slamming into deck.

“Thud.”

Eva: “…”

The lady began reflecting on whether she was this much of a handful when teaming up with Faust.

Faust raked a hand through his normally pomaded, impeccable short hair in utter frustration. “…What are you standing around for? Find backup! Quick—aside from what alchemy can handle, what else do you need to bait the ‘fish’?”

Meanwhile, in the Dream Realm.

Ode crashed into the sea without warning, choking down several mouthfuls of water before steadying himself. As he paddled to scan his surroundings, a thunderous roar like rolling lightning engulfed him from behind. Gold-green bolts lit up the barren seafloor in a flash.

“—!”

He couldn’t die here—not when Faust and the others definitely hadn’t lined up help yet.

With no hesitation, the Silver Blade slipped from between Ode’s fingers. After a flash of ominous black-red light, a handheld cannon materialized in his strong, slender hands. Without looking back, he whipped around:

‘Boom…’

The explosive shell unleashed a massive wave, hurling him hundreds of meters backward in an instant. As a mist of blood sprayed from his mouth, Ode coughed out amid the spasms, “‘Dwr-lus-sa… cough!'”

A massive, knife-sharp fish tail abruptly enveloped his legs, forming in a blink. Without pause, Ode thrashed it and shot toward the surface. Just before the tidal surge of pursuing lightning reached the crimson tail tip, he burst upward!

Time seemed to slow in that moment:

Ode twisted mid-leap, seawater streaming from his deep blood-red tousled hair and fish tail.

He spotted a tendril of current chasing him out of the waves. At the same time, the tail’s mighty thrust let him, in that brief airborne instant, use his dynamic vision to lock onto the distant eastern landmass.

Ode’s pupils dilated briefly, then contracted like a leopard sighting prey. The next instant, he incanted the druid spell to revert to human form. The sudden three-meter drop let him dodge the arcing bolt surging from the water by a hair’s breadth!

“Splash!”

His human form hit the sea, spraying foam. Amid the bubbling froth like driven snow, Ode switched back to fish tail form and streaked like an arrow toward the eastern coastline!

The current battered and compressed against him like unyielding walls. He didn’t waste time glancing back at the enemy—instead, he hurtled forward at his utmost speed toward the shore.

Closer… two hundred meters, one hundred. Once on land, away from the water, Chorazin would grow sluggish like Cthulhu, unable to catch him.

And during that shore skirmish, he could have a rational chat with this guy who’d tried to kill him on sight—or maybe test if he could just end Him outright?

For a split second, Ode’s eyes gleamed in the water. He lightly licked his lips, as if already savoring a fresh feast.

But the next second—

“Crack…”

The ever-close currents seemed to read his mind. At the final three meters, their speed exploded! Engulfing him in a golden-green blaze of electricity.

At the same time, on the deck—

Faust half-knelt in the center of the alchemy array sketched in blood, blood still trickling down from the knife wound on his left arm. He paid it no attention, however, his eyes fixed intently on Eva beside him. She sat unceremoniously on the floor, cradling the bulky, newly assembled Mirage Instrument. “Did we make it in time?”

The old man standing next to them, leaning on his gentleman’s cane, sounded somewhat displeased. “Of course we did. Are you doubting my power?”

Eva held her breath until a third person’s trembling taps echoed through her earpiece. Only then did she exhale sharply. “We made it.”

In the Dream Realm, Ode sat up unscathed amid the lightning that engulfed his vision. He had no idea that Faust, upon hearing Eva’s confirmation, buried his face in his palms and let out a long sigh of relief, as if utterly drained.

Even if he had known, it wouldn’t have surprised him. After all, he was well aware that his decision represented the most foolproof plan—

Faust had been left alone to face the Behemoth, which would undoubtedly exact a heavy price.

As for Ode, by stepping willingly into the Behemoth’s mist, even if Faust and Eva failed to produce enough “bait” in time, the unpossessed Eva would inevitably hand over Khirra’s clues to save him…

He simply couldn’t lose.

And now…

Ode stretched out his magnificent fish tail with leisurely grace, leaning back as if on vacation. He propped himself up on his elbows against the beach, sunning his ruby-like tail while calmly gazing at the colossal entity. As the lightning faded, it began to emerge from the sea, revealing just the tip of the iceberg. Casually, he patted the sand beside him.

“Have you vented your anger? Can we sit down and talk now?”

The seawater surged up the sandbank with Chorazin’s landing, its snowy waves shoving against the mermaid’s body—a blend of pale skin and deep crimson.

Chorazin’s gaze drifted downward. He saw the other’s form, defined by only faint muscle outlines, sprawled in complete relaxation. The arched hips, now smoother with the manifested fish tail, accentuated the mermaid’s waistline, slender yet resilient.

The image lingered before Chorazin’s eyes: the other suddenly leaping from the water, twisting at the waist to glance back. That small strip of pale skin had looked so fragile, as if it might snap under the slightest pressure. Yet it was so tough, rebounding from any strain to whip its tail mockingly across an enemy’s face.

Ode sensed the boundless giant before him lowering its head, shrouding him in a shadow that blotted out the sky. A voice laced with electric static carried undisguised sarcasm. “We both know we harbor killing intent for each other. Why resort to honeyed words and feigned friendliness?”

Ode noted how elegantly Chorazin spoke. He recalled from culture class that while Chorazin drove hapless artists and poets mad in nightmares, it also sparked their creativity, inspiring one-of-a-kind masterpieces. Essentially, it was a monstrous Muse—which made this refined style oddly fitting.

“By that logic, you’re not interested in killing the main body?”

The electric arcs swirling around them surged violently for an instant, then vanished completely two seconds later.

In the next moment, even the massive mirage blocking the sunlight dissipated with a scoff, dissolving into wisps of thin smoke threaded with colorless electricity.

A human figure emerged from the shallows, advancing onto the beach with slightly clumsy steps across the soft sand. Ink-black hair trailed behind it, whipping in the sea breeze.

“…” Even Ode was taken aback. Culture class had never mentioned Chorazin having a human form. Then again, considering Cavendish… well. Ode watched calmly as Chorazin kicked at the sand with his heels and approached in a somewhat disheveled state.

Chorazin seemed utterly unconcerned with appearing elegant to his enemy—wolfish or otherwise. Pleasure even lit his face as he shuffled forward. “Forgive the rough appearance. I’ve only just created this form… What do you think?”

“…” Hadn’t he just said there was no need for honeyed words or feigned friendliness? Ode flashed a smile devoid of shadows. “Very good. Unique vibe. Black hair, green eyes—you look like a mild-mannered poet.”

He refrained from adding that it bore no resemblance to Chorazin’s true form. Too blunt, and overkill.

Chorazin looked even more pleased. He propped one hand on the sand just like Ode, sat down, leaned back on his elbows, and said, “I hope you sense my sincere goodwill and apology… for last time, when I borrowed your father’s appearance. Truth be told, I took a liking to you from our first encounter… Regrettably, our positions were opposed then.”

Eva’s voice crackled through the earpiece: 【…What is this thing spouting? It just tried to kill you.】

Yet Ode felt Chorazin’s arm brush against his—seemingly by accident. Then the enemy simply rolled onto his side on the beach, propping his cheek on one hand to gaze at him. His long hair spilled like the petals of a black Baroque rose, his eyes soft and intent.

Ode: “…”

The last time he’d seen someone so ruthlessly goal-oriented—flirting with an enemy seconds after a deathmatch—was back in Dreamcatcher Town. Himself, battered and broken, seducing the Deep Ones.

A powerful sense of crisis tensed the muscles down Ode’s neck and spine. Tricky situation, he thought, but he kept his expression neutral. He mirrored the pose, lying on his side. His cool, slick fish tail brushed Chorazin’s calf, seemingly by chance. “But now our goals align, don’t they?”

The waves crashed against the white sand, roaring in response.

Chorazin watched Ode with a lingering smile, as if still weighing his options.

But in the next instant, he pushed himself up and straddled Ode. The raw chill of his body and the weight pinning Ode’s waist conjured a terrible illusion—like being coiled by a giant python around his spine, ready to snap at any moment. “Yes… ‘now.'”

“But tell me, my friend…”

Chorazin’s voice was soft as gossamer as he leaned in. His black hair cascaded from his back, briefly walling them off from the bright world beyond.

“Even if we join forces, even if we slay the main body—what then, after It dies? Who can guarantee you won’t turn your gun on me?”

Faust’s warning blared through the earpiece: 【Ode!】

Ode knew Faust’s stance on monsters like Chorazin. Ignoring them was out of the question, let alone promising to let the tiger return to the mountains. “How do you want assurance? No matter the oath I swear or the contract we sign, we both know it won’t hold lo—ah…!”

A strangled grunt, pitch warping, forced its way from Ode’s throat. A curtain of inky hair concealed Chorazin’s hand.

Ode’s eyes widened in disbelief. But his second thought brought relief—he wouldn’t need the meds after all.

Fine. Wouldn’t affect the job. Suppressing the noises rising in his throat, Ode continued in halting bursts. “…won’t hold forever. If you want… what you could never have before… you bear… the equal risk…!”

【…?】 On the other end, Faust grew wary. Amid Ode’s muffled sounds, Chorazin’s voice came, laced with amusement.

“So you’d better compensate me well.”

Over the earpiece…

Eva, still clutching the Mirage Instrument: “…”

Faust, brows knitted over Chorazin’s impossible question: “…”

The old man, leaning on his cane with a friendly smile, listened for a few seconds before sensing something amiss: “…………”

He could scarcely hold his composure. After a stiff pause, he turned awkwardly to Faust and Eva. “You two… aren’t we… shouldn’t we avoid eavesdropping on improprieties?!”

The two agents wore the impassive faces of veterans unmoved by a hundred action flicks playing at once. They turned expressionlessly toward the old man—their answer clearly no.

Faust’s expression was deadly serious. He abruptly raised a hand, cutting off their side’s voice transmission unilaterally. “This is wrong. Completely wrong. It looks like Ode’s seduction worked, but something feels off—”

“Everyone knows that for Cthulhu-like aliens, survival always comes first. But what did Chorazin do?”

“He knew killing Cthulhu would put him in dire straits afterward. Yet he disregarded that danger and accepted the risk. Pure—”

“Gambler’s mentality.” As a specialist, Eva understood alien traits better than Faust. “Impossible. Not when his own life is the stake.”

“Normally, Chorazin would rather remain an avatar forever, shackled to the main body, than gamble his existence.”

“But It chose this… why??” Faust sucked irritably on his cigar, his disheveled bangs swaying wearily across his forehead.

He sensed he was brushing against some vital secret, but intuition alone couldn’t drag the truth into the light.

The old man fidgeted by the earpiece, clearly itching to shut off—or smash—the device. Etiquette restrained him.

“Why can’t this be Ode’s charm ability working as intended? Back in Dreamcatcher Town, The Colour Out of Space defied its survival instincts too. Ode pinned it in place, leading to total annihilation.”

“Is that so?” Faust replied, his sixth sense still nagging at him.

Lost in his labyrinthine thoughts, Faust suddenly heard Eva’s cool voice. “—Phone. Signal’s back.”

An emergency call buzzed in instantly. Under Faust’s sharp glance, Eva answered to Lola’s voice, strained but urgent.

“Chief! Bad news. After you left, I did a final inventory on the lab stocks. One blood sample’s gone missing!”

“What?” Eva sprang to her feet as if the hundreds of kilos of Mirage Instrument in her lap had vanished. “What blood sample?!”

Lola rushed on. “The Dream of the Ancient’s blood sample!”

Eva’s mouth flew open in fury—then stalled halfway. “…Who was the Dream of the Ancient again?”

Lola: “…Mr. Douglas, obviously… Oh my God!!”

“Hmph…” Eva squinted like a scheming veteran. “And who was Douglas?”

Lola: “…Ode. Ode!! God, do you seriously only remember test labels?!”

Eva exploded at an even higher pitch than Lola. “Ode’s blood sample is missing?!”