Reincarnated In a Cthulhu World And Everyone Is Obsessed With Me - Chapter 47

Chapter 47: Traveling Alone – Their Little Nathanael.

The blue moon hung high, the blizzard roared, and the wasteland lay prostrate. Deformed monsters swarmed over the scarred earth; those who resisted were as small as ants.

The space where the Alien Realm bonded with the world looked like a newborn eggshell, translucent with blood-like veins. A majestic, vast mental power flowed along those veins like ten thousand miles of the Milky Way, star-fields shifting and turning.

—It was Sheikh.

The “egg” was dismembered, utterly shattered, and vanished.

Cold, blood-scented air scraped through his respiratory tract. Ruan Congyun let out a long breath. It was finally over. The time-space displacement within the overlapping derivative realm made even this living purgatory of the real world feel peaceful by comparison.

Ruan Congyun turned around. The Shadow Guild members following him were a formidable force. There was no time to rest; the monster tide was a lingering part of the aftermath—or rather, the loss of life to the monsters often exceeded that of the realm itself.

With a single look from Vice Chief Ruan, everyone understood the mission orders.

In the middle of a sprint, Yin Chengfeng descended from the sky, landing beside Ruan Congyun. “Where is the Chief?”

Ruan Congyun gave a short laugh. “He left after peeling the egg. Said he’s going to the Northern Ruin to see a friend.”

They didn’t stop moving, killing several pouncing monsters mid-conversation. “Peeling the egg” was Ruan’s nickname for harvesting a realm. Sheikh was young, powerful, and as stable as a precision machine—the perfect leader in Ruan’s eyes.

“Ruan, look out!” a team member shouted.

Ruan Congyun activated his enhanced Sentinel senses. Just as he was entering combat mode near a high snow cliff, he saw something.

—Someone was falling off the cliff.

Ruan knew Yin Chengfeng was nearby. “Protect the neck!” he yelled into the comms. If a falling person is stopped too abruptly, the inertia snaps their neck.

Yin Chengfeng’s teleportation black hole flickered, but he let the figure continue to fall. He said, “Ruan, it’s a doll.”

Ruan paused. He’d seen so many monsters he’d forgotten to distinguish between humans and mannequins. But then, another figure fell. Was this some new game of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf”?

“Yin Chengfeng!” Ruan roared, tearing through monsters with his mental power.

Before Ruan could give a coordinate, the falling figure’s descent slowed, eventually freezing in mid-air. Along with the person, a massive avalanche was also frozen in place—thousands of tons of snow suspended in its most wild and beautiful moment.

A familiar figure caught the falling person.

High in the air, the wind howled, and Sheikh’s black cloak fluttered violently, obscuring the two figures. As they landed lightly, the monsters around Sheikh were pushed back by a mental repulsion force, turning into bloody mist in an instant.

Sheikh carried the person back up the snow cliff. Only as he held him did he realize the person looked familiar.

It was that Guide from the Southern First Base.

Sheikh felt a sense of déjà vu—the first time they met, the Guide had also fallen from the sky into his arms. They hadn’t even exchanged names back then, yet fate had brought them together again in the snowfields of the Ruin.

The Guide was covered in blood and wounds, even weaker than before—radiating a dilapidated, withered aura of death. The six suppressors were an eyesore, bruising his pale skin. Sheikh frowned and removed the heavy chains. Special alien metal—no wonder he couldn’t break free.

As they moved, a strange, small orb fell from the Guide and rolled to Sheikh’s feet.

—An eyeball.

Sheikh froze for a rare moment, realizing the debris was indeed a human eye. He fell into a strange silence. The Guide was still breathing. Sheikh steadied his heart and raced toward the Northern Ruin.

…Find Gustav. Find Gustav.

Gustav emerged from the medical bay, rubbing his temples. “I thought Xia was dead.”

So, his surname was “Xia.” Sheikh leaned against the door, his clear eyes trembling slightly. “How is he?”

“Let him rest in the medical pod for a bit,” Gustav said, his expression darkening. “It’s worse than I thought. Those six suppressors… his mental landscape is a total mess.”

Sheikh listened as Gustav explained how Archer had found Xia, the suspicion regarding the Mnemosyne Realm, and how Xia had disappeared after going to the Arena—only to be taken by Limbo.

Limbo was a shadow over the Northern Ruin, a string of raw data that couldn’t be decoded or destroyed. Limbo had no need for a host; he was an “engine” existing in the void.

Sheikh opened a bottle of wine, looking remarkably steady despite just coming from a realm. “Why did Limbo choose him?”

“Only Limbo knows,” Gustav replied. He looked at Sheikh, the young man he’d known since he was sixteen. “You’ve grown taller, Little Chief.”

Sheikh smiled sadly. “It’s just been a long time since we saw each other.”

The title “Chief” stung them both. It was a reminder of the previous leader’s fall. Sheikh had taken the mantle in a hurry, hearing many congratulations but few condolences.

“I searched the Realm,” Sheikh said softly, staring at the uneven texture of his glass. “I didn’t find Ao Nie.”

Gustav ran a hand through his silver hair, looking old for a moment. “Searching for someone in a Realm is a slim chance, especially…”

Especially for a dead man.

Sheikh lowered his lashes. “We found many altars. Altars by the sea.”

The apocalypse was said to have started with a phantom meteorite falling into the ocean, but the real ocean had become a demonic forbidden zone.

“Will you go back to the Southern First Base?” Gustav asked. “You’ll likely run into You Yanzhou’s succession ceremony.”

Sheikh took a sip of wine, stating his position for the first time: “He is suitable, but he shouldn’t.”

Gustav changed the subject, looking concerned. “Do you still see the Golden Pupil Delirium? Your mental pollution is heavy… Nathanael. Haven’t you tried finding a Guide again?”

Sheikh avoided the topic of the golden pupils. “I shouldn’t go around ruining other people’s lives,” he laughed lightly. He didn’t want another Guide to go insane because of him.

Gustav nodded toward the medical bay. “That’s an S-class Guide. A medical pod can’t save him. Only an S-class Sentinel can help him rebuild his mental landscape. Are you going to save him?”

Sheikh looked at the wine, his voice calm but certain. “I’ll save him, yes. But I won’t hold him in my debt.”

Late that night, Sheikh couldn’t sleep. The sounds of the monster tide outside echoed in his bones.

He put on the cotton pajamas Gustav had left for him. In the pale colors, he looked softer. As he stepped into the hallway, he ran into Archer, who was coming out of the next room.

Archer touched Sheikh’s fingers—a way to transmit information faster than speech. He told Sheikh that Limbo was still lurking nearby but was too afraid of Sheikh to approach.

Sheikh looked through the half-open door into the Guide’s room. Xia was unconscious, his brow furrowed in a delirium.

Sheikh hesitated, then stepped quietly into the room. He wanted to check the Guide’s condition. Entering someone else’s mental landscape was a Guide-specific ability; even Sheikh couldn’t easily break that barrier. He needed to prepare for an unfamiliar mental operation.

He sat lightly on the edge of the bed and brushed Xia’s long hair aside. The Guide’s breath was faint. The six suppressors were still on him, and the bruises were turning purple.

Fragile and beautiful. For some reason, Sheikh thought of a butterfly. He wondered what the Guide’s mental body was. A butterfly would suit him well.