Translator: CinderTL
"The shell ship!"
Durga shouted excitedly from a distance as he spotted the slumbering behemoth. He tossed his tools aside and burst into laughter like a child who had found his favorite toy, then charged forward with heavy, eager steps.
Watching the gray dwarf leader's jubilant retreat, Roland let out a long sigh, his tightly wound nerves finally relaxing.
On one hand, finding the shell ship meant he could finally escape these lightless, subterranean tunnels.
On the other, this legendary vessel would greatly facilitate his journey to Aetheron.
However, Roland didn't charge forward recklessly like Durga.
He first cautiously surveyed the surroundings, ensuring there were no anomalies, before ordering the surrounding gray dwarves to stand guard and arranging for the exhausted team members to rest on the spot.
Thanks to the friendly relationship he had established with Durga, the gray dwarves raised no objections to these arrangements.
Once everything was in order, Roland approached the slumbering ship with steady, deliberate steps.
As he drew closer, the shell ship's silhouette gradually sharpened in the eerie blue light of the Crystal Cluster, eventually dominating Roland's entire field of vision.
From a distance, it had resembled a massive, asymmetrical snail shell sprawled at the end of the cave.
The ship's hull, a blend of pale white and deep purple, had a distinctly organic texture, its surface covered in overlapping, curled plates of armor. Several thick, tentacle-like appendages plunged into the rock, as if drawing nutrients from the earth.
As Roland drew closer, the true scale of the vessel gradually revealed itself.
Halfway there, he could already sense its immense size.
The coiled prow alone rivaled the dome of a grey dwarf fortress, its shadow vast enough to engulf dozens of fully armed warriors.
When he finally stood at the foot of this creation, gazing upward, an almost suffocating sense of pressure washed over him.
What had appeared as a curved arc from a distance now loomed as a pale white and deep purple cliff face stretching from earth to sky, disappearing into the darkness of the cave ceiling. More details came into view.
The shell was covered in patterns like bundles of nerves, occasionally flickering with psionic energy. What had seemed like faint lines from afar now stood out as clearly as the carved grooves in a rock wall.
The massive gash on the ship's flank, up close, resembled a monstrous canyon carved into the mountain face. The torn edges of the shell, large enough to serve as shields, exposed intricate structures shimmering with faint light within.
Though the shell ship remained utterly silent, it radiated an unsettling vitality.
It wasn't docked here; it resembled a mountain range forcibly embedded in the earth, a slumbering giant beast coiled within the rock layers.
"What do you think, old friend?"
Hearing footsteps, Durga called out without turning, excitedly patting the cold, metallic hull beside him.
"Look at this creation! Those octopus-headed bastards from the otherworld aren't much themselves, but their technology... it's truly astonishing!"
Roland's gaze swept over the vessel's surface, where faint lines seemed to still breathe. He nodded gently, about to agree.
In that instant—
A bone-chilling coldness surged up his spine without warning.
His mental perception, which had been radiating outward from him, suddenly screamed with a sharp, piercing alarm, as if struck by a needle.
"Watch out!"
With no time to think, Roland shouted, grabbing Durga's shoulder with his left hand and pulling with all his might to the side.
The moment they moved, a viscous, pale-green energy beam, reeking of decay, shot out like a tentacle from the abyss. It struck the spot where they had stood without a sound.
No deafening explosion followed, only a sickening, hissing sound of corrosion.
The hard rock floor instantly melted into a bubbling pit with charred edges.
Pale, mentally contaminating mist rose from the pit, momentarily distorting and devouring the surrounding azure glow of the Crystal Clusters.
Durga, still shaken, stared at the smoking pit before abruptly looking up in the direction of the attack.
The relaxed expression on his face had vanished, replaced by a grim intensity as he faced an unknown enemy.
"What is that?" he growled, his battle axe already gripped tightly in his hand.
As his voice echoed in the air, the darkness ahead began to churn like a disturbed deep pool.
In the next instant, the attackers emerged from the gloom.
Not one, but a group.
They resembled mutated, colossal fish, their pale skin slick with mucus that gleamed under the Crystal Clusters' eerie light.
Most disturbing were their multiple pairs of narrow, lifeless eyes and the slow-waving tentacles extending from their heads.
They didn't crawl on the ground but floated eerily in mid-air, as if swimming through invisible depths.
Their massive bodies twisted in unnervingly graceful arcs, forming a heart-stopping encirclement.
"Aboleths!"
Durga gasped, the muscles in his axe-wielding arm bulging.
"These ancient nightmares, the ones that should have been washed away by the river of time... hiding in this place!"
He swiftly retreated half a step, standing back-to-back with Roland, and let out a short, sharp whistle.
Thanks to Roland's earlier preparations, the grey dwarves had suffered minimal casualties during the Aboleth's initial barrage.
Hearing Durga's call, they immediately responded, swiftly tightening their formation, raising their shields and weapons, and forming a solid defensive line.
"Rudolph!"
Durga's voice was heavy and urgent, his gaze locked onto the Aboleth swimming through the air.
"We've clashed with these ugly bastards plenty of times during our adventures! Listen, just like when we fought side-by-side before—I and my kin will hold the front line and draw their attention!"
He swung his battle axe forward with a war cry.
"You'll deliver the killing blow!"
Before the words left his mouth, the Gray Dwarf Leader charged forward like a cannonball, leading his formation of grey dwarves in a fearless charge against the terrifying, swimming shadows.
"Fight side-by-side like before?" Roland shouted after the leader's charging back, dodging a whistling pale energy beam.
"Durga! I'm Roland! I don't have those memories anymore!"
But Durga was already too focused on the battle to hear him.
His heavy combat boots shattered the ground as he roared, charging toward the shadows swirling in the air, his battle cry completely drowned out by the din of combat.
The battle erupted instantly.
The battle axes of the seasoned grey dwarf warriors descended with mountain-splitting force, yet only left shallow, pale scratches on the creatures' slick, pallid hides before being deflected by invisible force fields.
Their thick shields could barely withstand the direct impact of energy beams, but the corrosive energy rapidly pitted the adamantine surface, numbing the arms of the shield-bearers.
Even more despairing was the fact that these ancient creatures seemed to possess no physical substance.
They twisted gracefully in the air, effortlessly evading most physical attacks. Their multiple pairs of narrow eyes held no emotion, only cold scrutiny.
Pale energy beams erupted from their writhing tentacles, precise and lethal.
The tide of battle turned one-sided the instant they engaged.
The grey dwarves' solid formation crumbled like butter under a hot knife, swiftly divided and pierced.
Pained grunts and roars replaced their initial war cries as warriors fell one after another, their flesh and armor dissolving under the corrosive energy beams.
"Damn it! These monsters' hide is tougher than adamantine!"
Durga parried an energy beam with a mighty axe blow, but the recoil sent him staggering back half a step. His eyes, filled with fury and a hint of helplessness, swept over his tribe members who were instantly overwhelmed.
Their conventional attacks proved utterly ineffective against these ancient nightmares.
Just as Durga and the grey dwarf warriors struggled to hold their ground, Roland's figure flashed into the fray like a silver lightning bolt.
First erupted the terrifying power enhanced by his Dragon Bloodline.
His Mithril Longsword, screaming as it tore through the air, swung with earth-shattering force toward the Aboleth's slimy flank.
Yet the expected scene of flesh and blood flying failed to materialize.
Before the blade could touch the pale skin, it was blocked by an invisible force field. The massive recoil numbed Roland's arm.
Only ripples spread across the force field, barely forcing the Aboleth back a few meters without leaving even the slightest mark.
Roland's eyes narrowed, and his attack shifted abruptly.
The sword blade ignited with scorching holy light, and a Holy Strike descended with devastating force.
The divine energy clashed violently with the invisible force field, producing a piercing shriek. Yet the holy light was then smoothly deflected and dissipated by the field, like water sliding off a surface.
Seeing this, Roland pressed his attack without pause. His left hand formed a fist, and a instant Fire Arrow erupted forth as a blazing fireball that whistled through the air.
As he approached the Aboleth, several pale energy beams materialized from nowhere, precisely intercepting and annihilating his attacks into nothingness.
Even his once-proud speed now seemed pathetic.
Though his transcendent agility allowed him to weave through the energy beams and occasionally seize openings to strike the Aboleth's body, his blade remained unable to pierce that damned force field or its incredibly tough hide.
Borrowing the Force, Roland retreated, his breath coming in short gasps as his sharp gaze swept across the battlefield.
His mind raced, analyzing this unprecedented enemy.
"Near-absolute physical and energy defenses. Precise interception of energy attacks. And bizarre mobility and shape-shifting."
"Trouble..."
Roland muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing.
The defensive mechanisms of these ancient creatures seemed tailor-made to counter every known attack method.
Everything he had once relied upon now felt like a futile struggle.
Seeing Durga and the grey dwarf warriors being pushed back under the Aboleth's onslaught, their line on the verge of collapse, Roland's mind raced.
"Rudolph... According to Durga, he believed I could easily slay these monsters back then..."
Staring at the seemingly invulnerable ancient creature before him, a thought struck him.
"Could it be... I need to use the dragon breath?"
Thinking of the indiscriminate, terrifying impact of dragon breath and the potential for catastrophic landslides, Roland hesitated.
In that fleeting moment of hesitation, the tide of battle turned sharply.
A grey dwarf warrior's shield shattered completely under the relentless energy bombardment. The warrior was instantly engulfed by a blinding white beam, his armor melting into a charred ruin.
Durga let out a roar of fury and agony.
The warriors around him were rapidly falling. The hastily formed defensive line was riddled with holes and on the verge of collapse.
Without an effective countermeasure, all of them would be buried here!
No more hesitation!
Roland's eyes sharpened. He took a deep breath, preparing to unleash the power slumbering deep within his bloodline, consequences be damned.
However, just as his spirit was about to resonate with dragon breath, an extremely subtle change registered in his highly focused senses.
At the same time, a bold hypothesis flashed through Roland's mind like lightning.
(End of the Chapter)
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