Within the shattered dreamscape, Ian "watched" the dark-purple streams of information drilling into Lina's soul. They contained countless fragmented and chaotic pieces of "knowledge," all pointing toward terrifying truths about the universe.
His expression grew serious. The knowledge itself might have had enormous value, but the way it was conveyed, along with the will embedded within it and the vast, despair-inducing existence behind it, made it deadly poison to a mortal soul.
Or rather, most life in the universe simply wasn't capable of bearing something like this.
"Good thing I got here in time."
Ian quickly assessed her condition.
'Her soul core hasn't completely dissolved yet. There's still a chance to repair and isolate it. If I'd arrived any later and she'd completely accepted this knowledge and embraced her new form… then there really wouldn't be anything left to save. I'd have to purify her physically.'
Ian reached his conclusion, but he didn't immediately try to drive away the dark-purple streams. Instead, he split off part of his attention and began "reading" and analyzing the fragments of knowledge leaking from the edges of Cthulhu's dreams at an almost greedy pace.
For Ian, this was priceless research material, far more exciting than anything he could find in Hogwarts' Restricted Section! Sure, it probably shaved a few points off one's sanity, but that didn't matter to him.
"Hm… this spacetime coordinate is interesting…"
"Oh? A formula for transforming lifeforms… crude and barbaric, but the underlying idea is surprisingly creative…"
"And this… a vague distinction between the 'Elder Gods' and the 'Outer Gods'? Interesting…"
While rapidly absorbing the forbidden knowledge, Ian simultaneously ran it through his powerful mental defenses and unique cognitive filters, stripping away the harmful parts while working out how to save Lina.
Simply tearing the corruption out by force wouldn't work. Too much of it had already become deeply entangled with Lina's memories and soul; if he ripped it away, she might become an idiot, or her soul could collapse outright.
What about building a mental firewall around her?
Possible, but that would only treat the symptoms. The source of the corruption would still be there, constantly hammering against the barrier. Besides, Lina's Seer talent itself was basically a giant security vulnerability. She could easily be infected again.
In that case…
A far bolder solution gradually took shape in Ian's mind, one that could almost be called insane.
Perhaps he could "format" her and "reinstall the system."
Not physically, of course, but mentally and cognitively.
He could use the properties of the Cthulhu-related knowledge he had just analyzed, combine them with his magic and expertise in the soul, and perform an extremely precise operation on the corrupted regions of Lina's cognition.
The twisted, maddened portions could be overwritten or transformed into something relatively stable and harmless.
At the same time, he could construct a stronger cognitive framework around what remained of her original consciousness, one compatible with her Seer talent. That way, Lina could retain her gift and at least some of her memories while gaining resistance against future corruption.
The risks were enormous, though. The procedure would require extraordinary precision, along with a deep understanding of both the structure of the soul and Cthulhu's corruption, so for now, it could only be treated as a backup plan.
"Maybe there's a better option."
Ian suddenly realized something. He stopped reading the fragments of forbidden knowledge and focused all his attention on Lina's tormented soul projection.
His silver-white mental force began circulating in a far more intricate and precise pattern as he prepared to perform an unprecedented operation on a soul corrupted by an Old One.
"Yeah. That should work too."
Ian's thoughts raced through the deep-sea nightmares and maddening knowledge filling Lina's inner world. Compared to the other option, this would barely even count as major surgery.
The plan was set. Now he only needed to fill in the details.
"Trying to directly oppose or purify corruption originating from Cthulhu is inefficient, and it could easily provoke an even stronger backlash," Ian calmly analyzed. "The best solution isn't to remove it. It's to overwrite and convert it."
He needed to replace the cognitive system implanted by Cthulhu's corruption with a higher-level, more stable source of information, one that Ian himself could control.
His gaze settled on the surviving core of Lina's self-awareness. Though battered by endless waves of forbidden knowledge, it still gave off a faint but pure light. That light represented Lina's true self, her memories, her emotions, everything that made her Lina.
"Her Seer talent is fundamentally a higher-dimensional form of perception and information reception. There's nothing inherently good or bad about it."
Ian thought for a moment.
"The problem is that the signal she's receiving is garbage. She's tuned straight into Cthulhu's trash channel. So all I need to do is give her a different signal source, then install a powerful firewall and decoder into her receiver. Then it'll be fine."
But what could he use as the new signal source?
Ian immediately thought of himself, or more accurately, of a certain trait and Status carried over from his previous life, one that had long since fused completely with his soul.
The Raven.
The Raven wandered along the edges of time, connecting cause and effect with possibility. It symbolized memory, omens, insight, and a freedom and perspective that existed beyond ordinary fate.
In that sense, it had a natural compatibility with the abilities of a Seer.
More importantly, the Raven's Status was extremely high, and the principles represented by the Raven belonged to a completely different system from the chaos, madness, and dominion of Cthulhu.
There might even be a natural form of suppression or isolation between them.
Which meant that, in theory, using the Raven's mark to overwrite Cthulhu's corruption should work. And compared with his earlier plan, it was much safer.
"Then that's what I'll do."
Ian made his final decision.
"I'll turn her into a Seer of the Raven. I'll use my Raven Status as the anchor and rebuild her cognitive core and source of power around it. That should erase Cthulhu's influence while preserving, and possibly even strengthening, her Seer talent. And I get something out of it, too."
A win for everyone. Ian was genuinely interested in having a Seer as a follower.
His previous experiences, along with everything he knew about Grindelwald, had already taught him how much potential a true Seer possessed. A single Seer wizard could be worth many ordinary wizards.
Of course, the idea of replacing Cthulhu's corruption with his own power was outrageously bold.
He was talking about taking a soul deeply corrupted by an Old One, forcibly reversing the process, stamping it with his own mark, and transforming that person into a Seer aligned with himself.
That required more than technique; it demanded absolute superiority in Status, as well as an exceptionally deep understanding of the nature of one's own power.
And Ian trusted one thing above all else: the supremacy of the Raven.
From what Ian understood about his identity as the Raven in his previous life, he suspected that the Raven existed on at least the same level as the ancient Creator who had been torn apart and devoured by the Titans.
An existence with that kind of Status should have no trouble suppressing something like Cthulhu.
After all, despite the entire Cthulhu Mythos being named after Cthulhu, the Lord of R'lyeh was not actually the strongest god in that system. He was simply the most iconic and recognizable figure within it. People in this era might not know much about Cthulhu, but Ian did.
The Cthulhu Mythos was familiar territory to him, and he knew its hierarchy and classifications all too well.
Far beyond the reach of human reason, in the darkness that had existed before the stars were named and before time itself had taken shape, the universe had already been ruled by indescribable beings.
They were not gods, at least not in the way mortals imagined gods as benevolent or majestic entities. They were ultimate existences beyond logic, indifferent to good and evil, and completely unconcerned with whether humanity existed at all.
That was the terrifying universe later known as the Cthulhu Mythos, a boundless realm woven from nightmares, madness, and sleeping monstrosities.
Although mortals used Cthulhu's name for the entire body of legends, the colossal, octopus-headed god sleeping beneath the South Pacific in the dead city of R'lyeh was only one small part of that vast, terrifying picture.
Cthulhu was unquestionably powerful. When the stars were right, he would awaken from his ancient slumber, shaking the earth and bringing civilizations to ruin.
But even then, on the true cosmic scale, Cthulhu was merely an imprisoned Great Old One. Powerful, yes, but still bound and overshadowed by things far older and far more incomprehensible.
Above him stood the Outer Gods, beings whose presence was so terrible that even dreams should not touch them lightly.
At the center of all things, where origin and ending converged, was Azathoth, the Blind Idiot God.
It danced mindlessly upon the throne of chaos, surrounded by the endless beating of drums and the piping of flutes, while the entire universe was little more than a bubble accidentally formed within its mad dream.
If Azathoth was the origin of the universe, then Yog-Sothoth was both its boundary and its gate.
All-knowing, all-powerful, and omnipresent, existing in the past and the future at once, it was knowledge itself, and also an abyss capable of devouring reason. If an ordinary mortal attempted to behold its true form, their soul would shatter like thin ice.
And then there was Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, the god of a thousand forms. Unlike the others, it did not simply sleep or remain indifferent.
It delighted in walking among mortals, appearing as a prophet, a magician, a black shadow, or a smiling stranger, guiding people step by step toward destruction.
It was the one Outer God that actively interacted with humanity, and precisely because of that, it was one of the most dangerous. It understood how to use hope itself as bait and lead people willingly into the abyss of madness.
As for Cthulhu?
He was more like a forgotten sentinel in that cold universe, a colossal, silent monument reminding mankind of one simple truth: humans were not the masters of the world. They were not even spectators. They were little more than specks of dust drifting through the dreams of gods.
Cthulhu's name had spread so widely not because he stood at the absolute top, but because his image was concrete enough for the mortal mind to barely grasp without immediately breaking apart.
So humanity had named the whole mythos after him, almost as though giving the horror a familiar name could somehow place the incomprehensible inside a box they could understand.
The true terror lay with the beings whose names were difficult even to speak, whose very forms of existence could not be understood, especially Azathoth and Yog-Sothoth.
"No matter how I look at it, the Raven is above Cthulhu!"
Ian became more convinced by the second.
"Who says he's the only higher-dimensional god around here?"
With his decision made, Ian stopped hesitating.
His silver-white mental force underwent a fundamental change. It was no longer being used merely to observe and defend; now it began to actively interfere, to reshape.
Using the mysterious, cold nature of the Raven buried deep within his own soul as a template, Ian began extracting, condensing, and weaving that power into form.
One after another, silver-white runes appeared around his consciousness. They looked as though they had been made from flawless crystals of memory and dust gathered from the flow of time itself.
Their structures were unimaginably complex, filled with non-linear beauty and the faint rhythm of time, a physical manifestation of the concept of the Raven.
"Looks like it really does work."
Ian intended to use these runes as the foundation for a sturdy "Raven Sanctuary" around Lina's soul core, isolating it from the continuous erosion of Cthulhu's corruption.
After that, he would carefully connect what remained of Lina's consciousness with the concept of the Raven, forming a deep but gentle graft between the two.
The new identity and cognition of a "Raven Seer" would gradually replace the portions already distorted by corruption.
It was a delicate, painstaking process, like trying to repair a shattered antique porcelain vase in the middle of a violent storm using the thinnest thread imaginable. With his own power, Ian was doing something that could only be called defying a god.
Meanwhile, in the outside world, Saruman and Kag were so tense they barely dared to breathe, their eyes fixed on Ian and Lina.
Ian stood there with his eyes closed. His long eyelashes cast faint shadows across his face in the dim light, his handsome, cold features settled into complete concentration.
His fingertip still rested lightly against Lina's forehead, the silver-white glow surrounding it growing denser and more restrained, as though countless mysteries had been compressed into that single point of light.
Lina's changes were even more obvious.
The violent convulsions that had been shaking her body gradually subsided, as if an invisible hand were smoothing them away. The expression of extreme agony on her face slowly relaxed.
She was still deathly pale, but at least she no longer looked twisted beyond recognition. Her wet, ragged breathing became steadier and deeper, and most encouraging of all, the black markings spreading across her body and glowing with that ominous purple-black light seemed to be slowing down.
Even the glow itself appeared to be dimming. The markings were still there, pulsing faintly beneath her skin, but there was no question about it, she was improving.
"It's working! It's really working!" Kag nearly shouted in excitement before immediately slapping a hand over his mouth, terrified of disturbing Ian.
Looking at Ian now, Kag's eyes were filled with an unprecedented mixture of gratitude and awe.
'It really is working! He's incredible!' Saruman finally released a long breath as well, the heart that had been lodged in his throat finally settling a little.
But Saruman was thinking further ahead than Kag. The mysterious power Ian was displaying, something capable of directly affecting the deepest layers of a soul, only strengthened Saruman's suspicion that Ian might truly be Merlin.
Surely only one of the greatest beings from the age of myth could possess methods this unbelievable.
Hope burned in the darkness like a newly lit campfire, warming two hearts that had nearly frozen solid.
What neither of them knew, however, was that Ian's "operation" on Lina's soul, especially the power of the Raven's Status he was invoking, was like throwing a foreign stone into the deep ocean of Cthulhu's dreams.
The stone itself might have been small, but its strange frequency and unmistakable intent cut cleanly through the surrounding chaos.
And somewhere in the deepest part of that dream-ocean, it brushed against the outermost layer of awareness belonging to the sleeping giant below.
(End Of This Chapter)
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