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The central plaza of the Submerged City, R’lyeh, was vast—roughly the size of a school courtyard—spacious enough for hundreds of players to fight without getting in each other’s way.

Crim and the players who had been handling the tentacles took cover in the shadows of the surrounding buildings, watching quietly as they waited for the main strike team to lure the boss into the area.

“Hey…”
“Yeah… they’re coming.”

A stir rippled through the group. Cthulhu’s massive head began to rise above the skyline, a grotesque silhouette against the ruined city.

“Eugh… why does he look so slimy?”
“I… I don’t know if I can do this…”

Hinagiku and Lycoris, standing behind Crim, had gone pale at the sight, their voices trembling.

“Hero, surely wicked gods fall under thy domain of expertise, do they not?”
“Are you stupid or just being dense on purpose? Cosmic horror monstrosities aren’t something human heroes are meant to fight.”
“Ahahah, if anything, this is a job for the Giant of Light!”

Suzaku looked visibly annoyed at Crim’s absurd remark, while Freya just chuckled awkwardly as they watched the towering creature approach.

Cthulhu’s misshapen head was utterly alien, and on closer inspection, his entire body writhed with grotesque tentacles. Just looking at him was enough to stir a primal, instinctive fear in every player.

But thanks to the countless tentacles they had already cut down, Cthulhu’s health bar had been reduced by 70%.

“Alright… everyone, hearken unto me. Let us bring this to an end swiftly. Art thou ready?” Crim turned to the players around her, and received firm nods in return.

“Very well. Once that wicked god doth enter the plaza, we shall lure him toward the central fountain—whereupon we’ve planted the charges. Leap not in ere the blast be triggered… unless ye fancy being roasted alongside the great octopus.”

She ended with a dry joke, drawing chuckles and lighthearted replies of, “Yeah, no thanks.” Meanwhile, Frey began chanting—he would serve as the detonator.

At the same time, a lightly armored swordsman sprinted across the plaza like a marathon runner, vanishing into the alleyways on the far side. A moment later, the earth shook. Thirty meters tall, the Great Old One Cthulhu thundered forward in pursuit.

His presence alone cast a sanity-reducing debuff, but the players had been mindlessly slaughtering tentacles for hours now—it hardly made a difference anymore.

Good. We can do this.

Seeing the determination in everyone’s faces, Crim nodded to herself.

“Then—prepare for battle! Brace for the explosion! Begin chanting, but hold your attacks until the main charge is triggered!”

Three steps more…
Two steps…

After a long chase, Cthulhu’s immense foot finally entered the fountain.

“…Frey!”
“I know! Eruption!!”

As soon as Crim gave the signal, Frey unleashed his fire spell. The fountain erupted into flames, triggering the hidden traps beneath.

A deafening explosion followed, so bright and violent it lit up the plaza and sent nearby buildings crumbling. The blaze obscured everything—even Cthulhu’s massive body.

“Whether you can see him or not doesn’t matter—he’s too big to miss! All ranged attackers, fire at will!!”

Following Crim’s command, hundreds of players unleashed arrows, spells, and every ranged attack they had. The surrounding structures continued to collapse under the relentless barrage, flames spreading across the plaza.

Cthulhu let out a chilling shriek—his voice an unearthly wail in a language no one could understand. Under the combined assault, his health dropped sharply—down to just 10%.

For a moment, it seemed like they might actually finish him off. But then, Cthulhu’s massive tentacles lashed outward, sweeping away the flames. His form became visible once more—burning with fury.

“Everyone, stand—” Crim tried to shout an order, but her voice was cut short. All six of Cthulhu’s main eyes—and countless smaller ones peering between his tentacles—suddenly flared with a strange, pale-blue light.

The wave of energy washed over the battlefield. It didn’t stop with Crim’s group. Even Sorleon’s team, who had just gathered on a nearby rooftop after repairing their armor, was caught in it.

One by one, the players dropped to their knees—unconscious. It was a global Sleep ability—one that ignored resistances. Everyone touched by that eerie glow collapsed.

And worse… they began to stir again. But not of their own will. They rose slowly, like puppets on strings—eyes unfocused, weapons drawn, and aimed at their fellow players.

They had been enthralled. The massacre would begin at any moment. But then—something tumbled among the unconscious players. A severed head—round, feathered, and oddly adorable. Then…

*C̲O̲C̲K̲-A-DOODLE-DOOO!!!

The rooster head let out an earsplitting, continuous crow. Though the sound was meant to be a cheerful wake-up call, it was so obnoxiously loud that it jolted all the affected players awake in an instant.

That gruesome-looking item was a crafted tool known as the Birdsong Bomb. It dealt minor damage, but more importantly—it forcibly woke up sleeping players. Jade and the other crafters had prepared dozens in anticipation of a moment just like this.

“Thank you… crafters!” Sorleon, now awake—though his ears were still ringing from the deafening crow—gave a thumbs-up to the retreating crafters and alchemists, calling out his gratitude.

The secret behind how they had managed to resist the sleep effect lay in their pale, slightly queasy expressions. Or more accurately—

“Prepare the poison! And stop using any healing spells that cure status effects!!”

…They had taken a small dose of poison—just enough to deal minor, periodic damage, enough to rouse them from sleep.

Following Sorleon’s command, the players retrieved tiny glass vials, no bigger than a pinky finger, each filled with a faintly glowing purple liquid. This was the poison that Jade and the others had carefully prepared in advance. It dealt negligible damage, but had a long-lasting effect.

It had been distilled from the poisonous plants growing all across the island. Normally, these materials were considered trash—useless loot that players would discard without a second thought.

But members of Lua Cheia, guided by their seasoned gamer instincts, had noticed how abundant the plants were and began to suspect they might serve a purpose later.

Just in case, Jade took the time to distill and bottle the poison. If it turned out to be useless, no harm done. But if it proved useful, they would be ready.

That kind of foresight only came from long years of gaming experience—and now, it had become one of their greatest assets in the battle against the Great Old One, Cthulhu.

“A second wave is coming!”

Cthulhu’s eyes began to glow again, a clear sign that another sleep-inducing pulse was imminent. But this time, the players were prepared. One after another, the sound of breaking glass echoed across the battlefield as hundreds of players snapped the tops off their vials.

“Everyone—take the poison!!”

Sorleon’s voice rang out just before the wave hit. Each player downed their dose in a single gulp. A moment later, they were hit by a sudden wave of drowsiness, their bodies weighed down by a dull, pulsing pain from the inside.

But they endured it—because just seconds later, the hypnotic glow washed over the field, putting everyone to sleep… Only for the poison’s ticking damage to immediately snap them back awake.

We can do this!

Those toxic plants hadn’t been junk after all—they had been placed there in preparation for the final battle. Realizing this, a surge of energy rushed through the players.

Cthulhu, visibly irritated, unleashed several more pulses in frustration. But the tactic was no longer effective.

“This is our moment… Everyone, attackkk!!!” Sorleon’s battle cry rang out, and with a collective roar, the players charged in—ushering in the final stretch of their fight against the wicked god.

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