The ceiling began to crack as Cthulhu expressed himself in a terrifying way that humans could not comprehend—what was this strange being?
On the other side, Clinten didn't look at Cthulhu, nor to the right or left. He kept his eyes on the ground so he wouldn't see what his mind couldn't grasp.
"To witness one of the Great Ones and have him speak directly to you… it is madness itself. My mind cannot process the words coming out of his mouth," Clinten muttered to himself, eyes fixed downward and fists clenched.
Linkaten looked toward Clinten and understood well what he was going through. They were in the Nest of the Great Ones. And that nest only appears with the rise of the Crimson Moon.
"I don't blame Clinten for being afraid. The presence of this mysterious being makes my heart tremble. I can't even look directly at him. Fear of the unknown is a curse, not a blessing," Linkaten spoke to himself while grinding his teeth.
Cthulhu moved beside the bookshelf, slowly placing his right hand upon it. He wiped from right to left, then spoke in a tone so heavy it made understanding nearly impossible.
"There is no shame in speaking to yourself. Speaking with the Great Ones will not make you see the truth. For the truth as you perceive it differs from its reality in the eyes of the Mysterious, the Ancients, or even the Great Ones."
"He's talking, and I don't understand what he's saying. My mind is trying to erase what is pure madness," Clinten sweated profusely, trying to hide his fear.
Cthulhu spoke again in a suffocating and unclear tone:
"Do you believe this is my true form? If the true form were present, you wouldn't last a fraction of a second. You would die just from hearing the Language of the Great Ones. Here I am, speaking your language, and still, due to your fear, you do not understand what I say. That is the terrifying difference."
Cthulhu opened the small Book of Danis and ran his fingers—resembling pens—over the words, whispering:
"Dm, Dn, Dl, Dk, Dmik."
Then he continued:
"I do not understand what Gideon wanted to convey with his wisdom to minds as dull as yours. Hunger, murder, destruction, theft, death—even the Great Ones—you commit all these crimes and think yourselves better than anything… But there is a righteous group known as the Hunters who kill monsters in vengeance for Gideon. And did Gideon ask for that? Then who commanded you?"
Listening for too long to the heavy speech of the Great Ones causes the primitive human mind to change gradually… one may go mad or be unable to withstand the incomprehensible.
Clinten placed his hands and bent knees on the floor, sweating profusely. He was burning his collar just to breathe, as the pressure was choking him.
Then, the room completely changed. They appeared in a vast space filled with headless women wearing red dresses walking backward—but in a way that looked strangely natural. The black light dominated the area, and bloody rain painted the walls.
Ancient relics lay on the ground, with old texts stuck to the walls. Knights with strange appearances—heads of flies, bodies of crocodiles, and legs like those of tigers—stood around.
"So this is the first form of the Crimson Moon. But if this is just the first, then what about the second?" Linkaten murmured as he looked around.
Cthulhu walked past them like a ghost and spoke in a voice not coming from a mouth, but from somewhere else entirely:
"The transformation won't be limited to this place alone, nor to humans. I crafted magic in a way that humans could use it… it involves learning mathematical equations to use magic."
Cthulhu conjured a crimson fire from nothingness, shaping it into a sword made of fire that bled. He continued:
"To learn magic, one must solve mathematical equations that take years to master. Magic should not be in the hands of the undeserving—it would destroy everything."
"Magic, in this place, is nearly nonexistent. Not everyone can solve equations to gain special magical powers. When he spoke of magic, there was a clear human tone in his voice so we could understand him," Linkaten thought to himself as he looked at the headless women.
"Everything here, in this hideous architectural design, is made of magic. Magic is another world that allows you to do things to your benefit," Cthulhu spoke coldly and with deep mystery.
He continued, moving his head in a bizarre manner:
"And by looking at you two, gentlemen… you feel the weight of presence so intensely that some of you can't even comprehend my words. No matter—that is your reality, and this is ours. So I will leave you with this madness to find your way out. Before I go, give my regards to the clown."
The place shook violently, and the room transformed again. Now it was a medium-sized room, empty, except for the ceiling that moved like the image of a tornado. A staircase leading downward stood in the center.
Both men fell to the ground, drenched in sweat from fear. Clinten, pressing his five fingers to his neck, spoke with a sense of liberation:
"It truly is madness. If he had stayed any longer, I would have gone insane… I try to understand the words, but my mind refuses them. My God, what madness is this?"
Linkaten leaned against a wall, trying to pull out a cigarette, but his hand trembled. He clenched his fist in anger and steadied himself. Muttering:
"Am I shaking? No, probably from all the battles and the stress of constant fighting. Hahaha, who am I kidding? I was really scared of him."
In that moment, a group of headless women appeared again, fire in their hands, speaking in an incomprehensible language.
Linkaten threw away the cigarette and smiled madly:
"Looks like the madness has returned. Hey, it's——"
Before he could finish his sentence, he saw Clinten utterly terrified. Linkaten grew angry, rushed toward him, and grabbed him by the collar, shouting in a terrifying voice:
"He's gone! Who are you afraid of now, hunter? Get a grip, you fool!"
Clinten's eyes were blurry, but he regained his balance thanks to Linkaten's shouting. He grabbed Linkaten's hand and frowned in anger, speaking in a sharp tone:
"I'm not afraid. I was about to go insane… and this hand—take it off me."
Linkaten smiled and spoke calmly:
"Seems you're back to your senses. Now, we have a hunt… and we shall hunt them."
Clinten drew his fiery axe from four openings and said with eager tone:
"Hey, let's kill those sluts!"
A large group of headless women appeared—about ten in total. Fire lit their hands with flames falling from above as they repeated a single word:
"Azalith."
The headless women launched fire at the two hunters, but they dodged and split in different directions. Clinten charged like a madman, killing two of them. One fired at him, but he jumped high and shot her hands.
Another appeared above him, firing at his back and leaving a large hole. But Clinten grabbed her in fury, cut her in half, then charged at the remaining two like a meteor and killed them. He stood hunched slightly forward, letting out a deep, beast-like roar mixed with thunder.
On the other side, the madness wasn't exclusive to Clinten—Linkaten was slaughtering with terrifying intensity. He grabbed one's hand, broke it, shoved it into her mouth, and then cut off her head. He fired three heavy bullets, killing three others.
Then, in a strange and evasive move, one appeared behind him and another in front. They screamed without heads:
"Azalith!"
They unleashed a massive burst of fire—an enormous explosion.
BOOM… BOOM… BOOM.
Black smoke surrounded Linkaten until it eventually cleared—revealing the terrifying hunter. His hand was burned to the point where the bone was visible.
"That's not enough to kill me," he growled through gritted teeth. He launched himself like a rocket at the first and struck her in a second, creating a fleshy explosion of blood and organs.
Both were covered in blood, driven by madness and thrill.
"Let's head to the next round," Clinten said, gripping his axe with intense excitement.
Linkaten, the genius madman, smiled. They destroyed the floor instead of using the stairs. As they looked down, they saw a group of knights with fly heads, crocodile bodies, and tiger legs. They wielded weapons made of jaguar fangs. The room was slightly smaller, with beast heads mounted on the walls, a large chandelier on the floor, and a door that was both closed and open at once.
"Hey, Klentyn," called Lankaten in a deeply terrifying voice.
"What do you want?" Klentyn replied as he looked at him.
"Let your axe rest for a bit, and use their weapons to kill them," said Lankaten with a horrifying tone and an unnaturally wide smile.
"You madman…" Klentyn looked at him and actually liked the idea.
Both of them charged toward the knights. Klentyn grabbed one knight's head and crushed it, taking his weapon. Three knights stabbed Klentyn in the back. Klentyn smiled insanely and sliced them in half. One of the knights ran toward him, aiming to cut off his head—but Klentyn caught the knight's weapon with his bare hand.
"Seems like today's not your lucky day, creature from beyond," Klentyn grinned as he broke both of the knight's arms and then destroyed his body with them.
On the other side, Lankaten appeared like a thunderbolt. He smashed three heads together and grabbed a knight's weapon. A knight jumped from above and sliced Lankaten's shoulder in half. Another aimed to cut off his arm.
But Lankaten grabbed the knight's neck and crushed it, then turned toward the one who stabbed him and chopped him into pieces.
"Adios, demon," Lankaten said with surreal horror, his blood-covered smile gleaming.
Klentyn approached the door and smashed it open. Both of them stepped through, and the place behind them vanished. A massive mountain appeared, its peak hidden by clouds.
They stood on the mountain's edge, overlooking the Clown's Graveyard from above. The graveyard was enormous, filled with countless tombs. Lankaten looked down and noticed a path between the trees leading toward the graveyard.
"Looks like we're getting real close to the Clown's Graveyard," Lankaten said in a calm tone.
"Man, that was exhausting. I hope there aren't any more enemies on the way," Klentyn said as he fidgeted with his Phantium card.
"Come on, let's go down there," said Lankaten, pointing with his index finger toward the ground.
Klentyn nodded. Both of them descended rapidly and landed hard on the ground.
Boom… boom… boom.
Klentyn grabbed his shoulder, rotated it, and spoke mockingly:
"I was hoping for some monsters to break my fall."
They walked along a long path, with giant trees to their right and left—some bleeding, some growing and dying at the same time.
Suddenly, they both stopped. Lankaten gave a slight smirk and said:
"Looks like some people don't want us to pass through."
There was a large man leaning against a tree on the right. His long black hair covered his face. He wore a black cloak over a red shirt. On the left side stood a woman with sharp, beautiful features. Her long white hair reached her neck. She wore a white shirt and black pants, with red gloves.
"Looks like we've got two uninvited hunters here. The Lords want some peace in the Clown's Forest. You'd better leave," the woman said in a threatening tone.
Lankaten spoke, his voice filled with dread, as he looked at the two figures:
"From your weird clothes, you're from the Cathedral of 'Nylkraten'… and as for your silly threat, it's nothing but nonsense."
Klentyn was already getting ready to attack. The large man stood up, revealing his sharp facial features—his eyes all scratched out.
The man spoke in a calm, unsettling voice:
"Hunters… you better retreat now… or we'll hang your heads on the lamps of the Clown's Graveyard."