Clentin sat on a heap of destroyed rubble, exhausted from the fight with Jackson…
"Oh God, I feel like my body has been separated from the reality of pain," Clentin said as he closed his eyes in agony.
He looked around at Lenkaten, watching the narrow road that had once been there, now turned into an open field of blood and ruins from the shattered Gothic palaces. A path with a slight curve lay ahead, swallowed by utter darkness, leading to the unknown.
"The chaos here is terrifying. That person was of the lowest rank… what if someone higher shows up?" Lenkaten placed a hand over his mouth, speaking in a quietly horrifying tone.
Clentin stood from the ground, grabbing his spine and snapping it back into place. He spoke sarcastically about Jackson, patting his neck:
"That bastard twisted every part of my body… what a terrifying monster."
Clentin glanced with his left eye toward Lenkaten and asked, with clear curiosity:
"I have a question for you, Lenkaten. How did you know that was his weak point?"
Lenkaten smiled, placing his index finger on Clentin's chest with a grin as he replied:
"I discovered that weak point while I was asleep… explaining things you didn't know."
"Oh, right. Man, your lectures are so boring," Clentin smirked, teasing Lenkaten.
"Next time, try not to sleep… or the Black Water will be hovering around your neck," Lenkaten said in a sharp tone.
Clentin stood before Lenkaten with a light, sharp smile and said:
"Try to do that, and my flame will have a different opinion."
After a tense stare between them, the horrifying material structure of the universe trembled. Standing on this earth was not a mistake—but to look toward the sky was a torment in itself.
"What's happening?" Clentin asked as he looked around.
"It seems the first form of the Crimson Moon is about to appear," Clentin said as he watched galaxies collide with each other, a crimson color tearing through the horizon.
Following the destructive tremors, the sky shattered into small pieces, falling to the ground like salty rain. A giant, tortured hand emerged, blood dripping from it like tears.
Clentin's entire body trembled from the horror of the scene before him.
"It looks like the hand of the Great Lovecraft is going to destroy something," Lenkaten said, his own hand trembling in sheer terror.
The giant hand moved from the broken sky like colliding stars, with an alarm echoing from the fractured wall of the cosmos.
The hand looked toward the moon, as if the moon was connected to the sky of Earth. Lovecraft's hand grabbed the moon with tremendous rage, letting out a scream so horrifying it could kill an unborn child in its mother's womb.
The moon emitted a sound like a newborn's cry from the womb. Then it shattered like glass. Lovecraft's hand crushed the pieces with fury, until above the hand emerged a massive Crimson Moon, the size of the sun.
Blood trickled from the moon—not heavy, not light, but like the blood of a child just slain. The cry of the child spread through the void like cosmic mist. Only those who deserved this punishment could hear it.
The hand turned toward the Black Mountain, then struck the Earth's shadow that reflected the word "Yarakhman." The hand vanished, and the filthy, bloody moon appeared. The sky was shattered, echoing with horrifying sounds, and the remaining parts of the sky—though unbroken—were stained with crimson, turning sharp red.
"From now on, mysterious entities will walk this ancient earth," Lenkaten said, placing all five fingers on his face.
"Every word on my tongue fails to express… even my eyes want to consume themselves," Clentin said as he gazed at the foul crimson moon, his eyes trembling from the agony.
"Come on, let's move. If we stay here too long, we don't know what might happen. A different zone could emerge," Lenkaten said, looking at Clentin.
"You're right. Staying here is driving me mad. Luckily, my insight isn't strong enough to see the entities we're not meant to see," Clentin replied, his voice filled with a strange sense of shock.
They walked through the ruins until they reached a path with a strange curve… black smoke resembling fog emanated from it.
Lenkaten spoke with a fearful tone, placing his five fingers over his eyes:
"It seems we've arrived at a zone born from the rise of the foul crimson moon."
"Man, I'm going insane from all these phenomena," Clentin said with an odd grin.
They walked through the strange, curved path and entered a vast, open area. The black fog surrounded everything. You could see nothing, hear nothing, notice nothing… you now perceived absolutely nothing.
"People possess terrifying auras and pressure… but I've never seen a zone with an aura this horrifying," Clentin said, looking around with a frightened, trembling voice.
"Now, let's focus on the next goal—ending this madness," Clentin said sharply, placing his five fingers over his mouth.
As they walked along the seemingly endless road—where the land itself felt like it was expanding—burning blood stains appeared on the ground, from which a hand rose, pointing a thumb forward.
"Looks like this hand is guiding us somewhere. Let's follow it," Lenkaten said calmly.
They followed the flaming blood until they reached a house with a bizarre design, something close to grotesque architecture. Wood constantly fell from the house, only to rebuild itself. A broken window showed wood behind it, while an unbroken pane revealed a face staring at the hunters with a wide, terrifying smile. A white light glowed in the center of the bleak, black fog.
Clentin spoke, his hand trembling—though the fear wasn't immediately apparent in his tone:
"This design is extremely strange… it's more like grotesque architecture. We have no choice but to examine the place."
Clentin looked at Lenkaten as they walked toward the house, his face marked with astonishment. He asked with curiosity:
"Before we reach that strange house… what is grotesque architecture?"
Lenkaten looked at Clentin's face, his eyes filled with strangeness and sarcasm, and answered:
"Grotesque architecture is a design full of distortion and bizarre structure. Like a broken window showing wood behind it, while the unbroken one shows something else. Or broken wood rebuilding the house in odd ways—all part of grotesque architecture."
"You know… I really wanted to sleep, but I ended up learning something useful," Clentin said sarcastically.
Lenkaten gave him a completely indifferent look. Both reached the grotesque house. Lenkaten stepped onto the first stair, feeling a strange tightness in his chest, but continued to the next, pushing the discomfort aside.
He knocked three times. A strange scratching sound echoed from beneath the door, which creaked open with a disturbing screech. A figure appeared—its head was an octopus, its body very small, and its hands broken.
Clentin was on the brink of madness from the bizarre sight. Even Lenkaten covered his face with his five fingers. The strange creature spoke:
"When you cross the door, you will resort to one who guides you toward the Other. Lord Cthallhu is waiting for you…"
The creature's tone was calm, like that of a small child, but carried a deep, ancient wisdom.
Clentin's hand was trembling in utter terror. The door opened fully, revealing a pitch-black darkness inside the house. The strange creature walked into the void and vanished.
Clentin clutched his eyes tightly, laughing with overwhelming fear:
"I don't even know what I'm afraid of, but the fear of the unknown is the one thing tearing my mind apart!"
Lankaten placed his right hand into the black darkness and looked at Clentin, saying:
"Entering the heart of madness… makes you the sanest among them."
"Insight… insight… insight…" Clentin began to repeat the word as he walked into the house.
They both entered. Then strange lights with a black hue ignited, illuminating the place. A room appeared with books arranged across every wall. There stood a tall figure wearing a black robe covered with strange inscriptions, as if in an ancient language. He had long black hair and appeared to be holding a book.
Clentin clenched his fists tightly from fear. The mysterious figure turned toward Lankaten and Clentin, revealing a face made entirely of octopus-like hands. He spoke in a sharp voice mixed with incomprehensible wisdom:
"In the midst of magic, there are sorcerers… and within science, there are scientists…
But what do you hunters have? Is crying the only way to escape this pain?"
Neither Lankaten nor Clentin uttered a single word. But Lankaten whispered to himself:
'I feel like my body is burning… as if his bizarre, illogical words are unhinging my mind.'
The mysterious entity continued:
"The appearance of the Crimson Moon is a beautiful blessing, yet humans see it only as eternal wrath.
If that's their interpretation, then it is correct.
And the one who slays what is close to the Great… shall not survive."
When a hunter of high rank succeeds in taking down a terrifying and powerful being,
yet trembles in fear and cowardice in the presence of something beyond their mental capacity—
that is the fate of these two hunters. Not a single word left their lips.
The strange creature approached the mysterious entity and handed him a book with deep lines on its cover.
"Thank you, my little apprentice. You may continue your studies of sorcery," he spoke with a royal and mighty tone, as if he only acknowledged what was magnificent before him.
"I do not need to introduce myself to you, nor would either of you dare to argue with a terrifying entity like me. But for you, lowly humans, you may refer to me as Cthallhu,
The Maker of Magic—when no magic was known to humans, And the Debater of Science—when humans were still devouring their own flesh."