Chapter 29: CH 29

Hoshino Kota harshly exhaled a mouthful of smoke.

The spacious and gorgeously-decorated theater which surrounded them a moment ago had suddenly transformed into a bare stone platform.

Below the stone platform was an overwhelming smell of blood. It wasn’t difficult to imagine how the platform had been built. The white bones and red blood of the dead, coupled with the voluntary sacrifice of souls, mingled together to form the most perfect of altars for those who believed in the cult.

“Welcome to the distant city of Carcosa.”

One at a time, cultists dressed in black robes and masks came out from behind the stage curtain. Although their faces couldn’t be seen directly, the unspeakable excitement in their voices was impossible to miss.

The ritual hadn’t yet been completed.

Hoshino Kota slightly hooked his index finger, and a complicated magic pattern emerged from his fingertip. When the other investigators saw his action they also assumed a fighting stance.

The ordinary people in the audience had been seized by the illusion. They were sprawled over on their seats with their eyes wide open, mesmerized smiles on their faces, staring blankly in a trance.

The cold white moon slowly descended past the spire of the city of Carcosa. Below them was a wide and endless lake, and in the center of the lake there stood an ancient and magnificent city.

Although the illusion covered the entire theater, Hoshino Kota knew this wasn’t their ultimate destination.

In the lake there was a reflection of the moon, but there wasn’t a reflection of the stone platform. This meant that while the illusion was very realistic, they hadn’t actually crossed the gap in time and space into the real Carcosa.

They still had a chance.

The investigators couldn’t wait any longer.

The next stage of the ceremony would certainly cost more lives.

Flames hurled towards the brothers of the Yellow Seal, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier.

“It seems we have some uninvited guests who want to start trouble.” A black-haired girl slowly emerged from the darkness. Her face was hidden behind a fan painted with an intricate pattern, and her eyes narrowed with malevolence.

Ada—no, Nyarlathotep.

Sure enough, it was her!

“High Priestess, Your Eminence, we’ll take care of them. Our Lord has answered our prayers. At last—the city of Carcosa shall be opened!”

The believers chanted these words over and over.

As cultists, they had the power of true belief. Their faith gave them abilities on par with the Awakened, and that was how they were able to resist the investigators.

“The sacrifice is about to begin.” Nyarlathotep watched the scene with indifference. She beckoned with her finger and several cultists dragged people over to the side.

When Zong Yan saw this, he couldn’t help but stand up from his seat. His eyes filled with shock and anger.

That was Edward.

The prince’s eyes were completely dyed pitch-black. Not a single glimmer of light could be seen in them, just like matte ink.

The little blond-haired prince was completely in a trance. Step by step he walked towards the edge of the platform.

The shadow of the Night Watchman’s umbrella quickly swept over, trying to catch Edward’s feet, but the shadow was torn apart by an invisible barrier and silently vanished.

“Edward!” Zong Yan ran over to pull him away, but he was knocked back by an unseen force.

“Don’t waste your energy. Since the very beginning he’s been the chosen sacrifice of the Order of Feasters.” Nyarla watched with keen interest. “How rare. It seems you noticed something strange about him long ago.”

The black-haired girl giggled, and the fan in her hand began to sway.

When the fan swept past, Zong Yan grew dizzy.

He saw a vision behind the fan—

Huge and bloated tentacles in countless numbers capable of blocking out the sun, sharp fangs where the girl’s delicate face ought to be, like a horrifying monster from the end times.

“Able to resist divine suggestion as well as glimpse the truth. No wonder Yog was so tempted. If you don’t want to become one of his believers, little chief, you can also consider me,” Nyarla said with a smile. 

The next second he suddenly flashed away from the ground.

In the spot where he’d just been standing, there was a pool of black and unidentifiable slime. Although there was only a little, it corroded the stone platform in an instant.

Among evil gods, luring someone else’s believer to apostatize or switch sides to a different god was absolutely forbidden.

It seemed that Yog really liked this human. How surprising, he already enjoyed the treatment of a high-ranking follower.

Nyarla smiled and concealed half her face. There was a nasty gleam in her eyes, as if she’d found something intriguing.

But Zong Yan didn’t notice. He couldn’t catch Edward, and now as Edward neared the edge of the platform, he was burning with anxiety.

“Edward, wake up! It’s an illusion!”

In desperation he tried to activate his power to control shadows, even tried to call the harbinger bird over to stop Edward, but nothing worked.

More and more people began to stand up. The audience members who were in a dream-state rose one after another. Just like Edward they walked towards the edge of the stone platform.

As strange as it might sound, the stone platform was clearly just an illusion, but when the audience members jumped from the edge the effects were all too real. Zong Yan even saw one person’s head hit the spire below, and his red and white brain matter splattered all over the ground. It was terrifying.

No, this isn’t right.

Zong Yan searched through his memories. He remembered when Revered Daoist Xu Fu had mentioned illusions during class.

“If you are not under the spell, then the illusion is just an illusion. If you are under the spell, the illusion will become reality.”

""

The illusion will—become reality.

Like a kite with a broken string, Edward fell from the stone platform.

And at the last second, a shadow manipulated by Zong Yan managed to reach the little prince and absorbed the darkness from his eyes.

Edward continued to fall, but he regained consciousness. His expression was incredulous and confused. “Ahhhhhhhhh—”

The Night Watchman opened his black umbrella and jumped after him without a moment’s hesitation.

Behind them, countless mundane people jumped down one after another, praying for the coming of the god with their blood and souls.

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“How’s that for a good show?” Nyarla smiled and put away the fan.

This time, without the concealment of the fan, those huge, swollen tentacles squeezed out into the air. Her body began to twist and deform, finally changing from a pretty girl into a dark-skinned doctor in a white coat. There was a cheerful and compelling smile on his face.

Nyarlathotep loved to watch human beings struggle in despair. When those ordinary people fell, they had stupid hopeful expressions on their faces, which pleased the evil god very much.

The investigators were still fighting against the brothers of the Yellow Seal. As the believers chanted, the sound of their hymns echoed around them.

“No, I’m afraid you’re going to miss the mark.” The gray-haired, golden-eyed man rose from his seat. He gazed down at the distant land below them. “A variable has been introduced. The future has been decided.”

“Oh dear.” The white-coated doctor pretended to grieve. “Since even you’ve said so, I’m afraid these believers won’t get to see their King in Yellow today.”

""

Of course, it didn’t matter at all to Nyarla.

He wasn’t concerned about the outcome. He only cared whether these human beings could entertain and amuse him for a while.

“Hah.” Tawil knew Nyarla’s nature all too well. He gave a cold sneer and stared below the stone platform again.

Tawil normally wouldn’t have bothered to come here himself.

This time was obviously different.

A person whose future, past, and present he couldn’t observe—that was a variable.

The unknown, that’s what created the greatest delight.

In any case, the interest of the gods had been aroused.

“A believer who doesn’t fear the gods is far more interesting, don’t you think?”

—

In midair, Zong Yan tightly gripped Edward’s hand.

But at the same instant, that little bit of shadow suddenly jumped from the air to his hand.

No!

Zong Yan barely had time to reveal a frightened expression to Edward before he was dragged into a second illusion.

But it wasn’t just him. If someone stood outside the theater, they’d see a vision in the sky.

A drunk who’d just come out of a pub with a can of beer in his hand said dizzily, “Why is there a city up there…?”

“You’re just drunk. What city?” His companion laughed and scolded him, but a moment later he himself was staring in disbelief.

High above, in the night sky of London, the silhouette of a city had quietly appeared.

“What in God’s name is that, a mirage?!” 

Various people exclaimed and took out their cell phones one after another, but when their cameras flashed, the photos didn’t reveal any of the floating city, just a normal night sky.

The city couldn’t be captured by human photographic equipment. It could only be observed by human eyes.

London, where Ithaqua’s avatar, the Death-Walker, had appeared only a few days before, once again sounded the alarm.

“Report to headquarters, the satellites are unable to detect the city over London!”

“Report to headquarters! Infrared is also unable to capture an image!”

""

“Report, the helicopter that was just dispatched doesn’t see the image in the air. Please notify command!”

…

Countless messages poured like a tidal wave to the military command center in London.

At the same time, more and more people had noticed that the shadow of the city was growing clearer and clearer. It was also descending closer to London.

“Sir, we’ve confirmed it isn’t a military attack by U.S. or Russian forces. It’s most likely related to the occult world.”

The subordinate hurriedly sorted out the materials and entered the emergency wartime operations room.

A general with medals on his chest melted down and tossed the information away. “London hasn’t seen this many major events in years! Last time we had a blizzard that almost buried Great Britain. What is it this time?!”

“First, calm down the populace and send out the fighter jets. Say it’s part of our rehearsal for Michaelmas.”

The public relations department started working overtime again and posted reassuring updates on their Twitter and Insta public accounts.

With a wail, the general sat back in his chair and put his hand over his forehead. “Dear God.”

Fortunately, both incidents happened at night, and rather late. If it had happened during the day when more citizens were awake, the situation would have been even worse.

“Damn it, get this information to the Spire Council. And tell them to move the Gate of Truth out of London.

“They’re not welcome in Great Britain anymore!!!”

—

The author has something to say:

Hastur, the King in Yellow, is coming out!

Hastur: Believers just keep getting worse and worse these days

TL Notes:

Once again, Ada/Nyarla’s flip-flopping pronouns are from the author. At one point I had to guess and tried to follow the same usage.

Transliterated names, titles, and places—new in this chapter:

Sir – 阁下 – géxià – Alternatively: My Lord, Lord, Your Excellency, etc.

Hastur – 哈斯塔 – HāSīTǎ – A Great Old One

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