Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 737 - 340: Eye of the Abyss_3

[Active Abyssal Substance has been absorbed automatically, charge progress +0.5%]

[Current Energy: 17%/100%]

Ron gained significant insight into his puppet's functional limits through this skirmish.

"The combat proficiency and versatility this puppet exhibits within an Abyssal environment surpass everything I witnessed at the Bloodline Altar," he mused.

He mentally evaluated the situation: "Returning here feels like the puppet has finally reached its own domain."

Just as he prepared to push forward, his 'Foreseeing Star' trait triggered a violent alert. An agonizing sense of impending doom blossomed in his chest, identical to Death’s blade resting against his throat.

"Alter course immediately!"

He commanded the puppet to veer away, urging it toward safety with frantic intensity. Scarcely had the puppet shifted its trajectory when the tranquil sea began to undergo a nightmarish metamorphosis.

A massive, terrifying vortex erupted on the water's surface, mirroring the gaze of a colossal deity. This was no common current; it was a phenomenon where reality itself fractured under an unknown, oppressive force.

Spanning tens of kilometers, the vortex plummeted into a bottomless darkness that seemed to border another realm. More chillingly, nearby lifeforms began to warp uncontrollably. Even the already grotesque abyssal entities suffered extreme mutations when touched by the vortex's radiation.

A massive, octopus-like creature saw its tentacles multiply from eight to thousands under the vortex's influence, ballooning until it resembled a writhing, chaotic hill of flesh. Yet, this mutation lacked stability, causing the creature to collapse into mindless self-destruction as it failed to control its own anatomy.

Other, lesser abyssal beings were vaporized by the vortex energy, their remains coalescing in the air to form newer, more abhorrent monstrosities.

"An apostle has stirred..."

Using 'Extraordinary Recognition,' Ron glimpsed a horrifying reality. The energy concentration at the vortex's heart bordered the absolute limits of his comprehension. The immense fluctuations were, in truth, merely the rhythmic output of that being’s 'respiration.'

Its actual power transcended logic; a single shift in its state could rewrite the ecology of the entire ocean. "I cannot look any deeper," he whispered, instantly severing the activation of his 'Extraordinary Recognition.'

Despite the brevity of his scan, his psyche was rattled by shock. A profound, primal dread permeated his consciousness—he felt like a speck of dust attempting to fathom a mountain, or a firefly daring to challenge the sun's radiance. This was not merely a numerical disparity; it was a fundamental severance in their levels of existence.

Suppressing the ache brought on by the spiritual backlash, Ron forced the puppet to dampen all energy output. Its optic sensors dimmed and its limbs stiffened, successfully masquerading as a discarded wooden doll.

Without warning, a even more catastrophic shift occurred as the vortex began a rapid expansion. Great columns of seawater were swept into the darkness, and nearby floating islands were splintered by the overwhelming suction. Despite his puppet’s efforts to remain dormant, it was dragged inexorably toward the center of the abyss.

Sensing this, Ron acted decisively and cut the spiritual link. Retaining it would invite discovery, and he lacked the strength to challenge an apostle's will at this time.

As his consciousness flickered back to his physical body, a searing mental trauma gripped him. His mind felt as if it were being flayed by invisible blades, each inhalation sending spikes of agony through his brain. Worse yet, alien memory fragments began to bleed into his thoughts—dark, churning tentacles and the screams of distorted beings. These were residuals of the apostle's influence, a lethal contamination for any mortal mind.

"I must purge this infection immediately," he gasped. He retrieved a silver pocket watch from his coat. As the casing clicked open, the flow of time permeated his psyche, resetting his state and scrubbing the foreign memories while knitting together his fractured spirit.

"So this is the chasm that separates a Morning Star Mage from an apostle." He slumped into his laboratory chair, eyes fixed on the abyss beyond his window. Even a secondary, indirect observation from an immense distance had caused him such devastating injury.

However, the mission yielded value. Through the puppet, he had verified the conditions of the Abyss Fifth Layer and confirmed the immense potential of the Stand-In Puppet. With further optimization, this tool could become the cornerstone of his efforts to unveil the mysteries of the Abyss.

Regarding the puppet's current peril, an ancient, chaotic consciousness was sluggishly rising. The 'Eye of the Abyss,' Nari, had slumbered for centuries, its dreams filled with the phantom taste of flesh and souls. The sudden presence of a 'fishbone' in its 'throat' left the entity feeling irritated.

Upon ejecting the foreign object, it felt a sudden surge of curiosity. The tiny craft held the resonance of wizard magic while simultaneously reeking of the Abyss. This contradiction piqued the interest of the ancient entity, triggering a desire to hoard the object in its nest. While its chaotic mind could not reason logically, its instincts flagged the item as something of rare, unique quality. With a fluid, alien movement, the entity expelled a specialized, treasure-collecting sac, carefully encasing the Stand-In Puppet within.