Chapter 300: Canine King

Chapter 300: Canine King

Luo En's heartbeat quickened slightly, a wave of vigilance surging through his body.

Logically, this obviously dangerous memory fragment bearing spiritual contamination should have triggered his "Transcendent Perception" or "Hunting Evil" warning skills.

During previous analysis sessions, these abilities had repeatedly saved him from imminent danger.

Yet now, his entire warning system remained eerily silent, completely unresponsive to this clearly hazardous memory fragment.

Frowning faintly, Luo En didn't interrupt the connection.

Instead, he carefully adjusted his spiritual energy output pattern, probing the memory with even greater caution.

As his consciousness delved deeper, the blurred outline gradually sharpened into focus...

It was an existence beyond comprehension, its form constantly shifting in ways that defied the fundamental laws of the physical world.

At times it resembled a colossal sphere covered in writhing tentacles, each tip sprouting eyes, mouths, and other organs;

At other moments, it transformed into a mountain composed of living tissue, its surface churning as new limbs sprouted and rapidly withered.

Most terrifying of all was its apparent simultaneous existence across multiple dimensions, leaving its image perpetually trapped in an indescribable "superposition state."

Gazing at it for more than two seconds induced violent vertigo and nausea, as though one's brain was forcibly processing forbidden information structures.

This spectacle should have triggered extreme spiritual contamination reactions, at minimum activating "Hunting Evil's" strongest warnings.

Sinisterly, Luo En felt no signs of contamination whatsoever.

Only a purely aesthetic discomfort, akin to instinctive revulsion at grotesque imagery rather than the soul-deep agony of true contamination.

"Fascinating..." Luo En mused silently, his thoughts racing:

A revealed "Apostle" that doesn't cause spiritual contamination?

This anomaly could only mean one thing—the "Apostle" was fake.

The explorer within the memory clearly lacked Luo En's calm analytical capabilities.

When the giant entity began moving, countless grotesque organs turning his way simultaneously, terror immediately consumed his rationality.

A primal, raw fear exploded in the explorer's heart—a terror far beyond ordinary fright, as though his very soul screamed in anguish.

As fear accumulated, the explorer's vision twisted and shattered, finally plunging into complete darkness.

He lost consciousness.

What happened afterward remained unknown—the Memory Crystal contained no further clues.

Had the fake "Apostle" consumed him, or did he somehow escape? These questions would remain unanswered. After all, Abyss-transmuted Memory Crystals only preserved what the recorder witnessed.

"Disconnected. Analysis complete."

Luo En spoke calmly, cautiously withdrawing his spiritual energy to ensure no residual traces or entangling side-effects remained.

Opening his eyes, he found Uther's Phantom Husk projection studying him through peculiar flickers of light.

"Quite an informative analysis, wasn't it?" The old man's voice carried a hint of unusual satisfaction.

"Indeed, Professor."

Luo En glanced at the Memory Crystal before getting straight to the point:

"I detected anomalies. The 'Apostle' in this crystal likely isn't real."

"Oh?" Uther's projection fluctuated slightly, curiosity evident. "Explain your reasoning."

"Firstly, my contamination detection system showed no reaction whatsoever when it appeared."

Luo En explained methodically:

"Logically, even an Apostle's memory projection should carry strong high-order Abyss contamination.

Yet I felt no contamination—only a purely visual discomfort."

He paused briefly, continuing:

"Secondly, this 'Apostle' displayed overly dramatic behavior patterns, as though deliberately creating horror effects.

True Apostles are far more... efficient. They rarely waste time on visual intimidation, preferring direct spiritual invasion or mana drainage."

Realizing his analysis might sound overly professional for a newcomer to Abyss research, Luo En fell silent.

Uther's Phantom Husk remained quiet for a moment, silver light flowing slowly through the air as if engaged in deep contemplation.

"Extremely precise observation and analysis, Luo En."

Uther's tone carried clear admiration, though laced with unfathomable undertones:

"Your understanding of Abyssal Creatures seems far beyond what a novice researcher should possess. Particularly those insights about Apostle behavior patterns... fascinating."

Luo En sensed the Phantom Husk's silver eyes piercing through him, attempting to uncover hidden secrets.

Yet he had long mastered maintaining composure under scrutiny. Facing this veiled inquiry, he simply smiled warmly, meeting the gaze with calm candor:

"I've always held special interest in Abyss research. During my time at Black Mist Academy, I accessed various non-public materials through different channels."

Uther's projection swayed slightly in the air, emitting a soft chuckle.

Clearly recognizing the measured disclosure, he didn't press further, instead shifting to academic discussion:

"Your observations are entirely correct. That wasn't a true Apostle, but rather an extremely rare Abyss plant—'Pepero Grass'—in disguise."

"Pepero Grass?" Luo En raised an eyebrow. The name sounded oddly familiar.

"A fern-type Transcendent Plant's Abyss subspecies."

Uther's voice adopted his familiar professional cadence:

"One of the few intelligent plant species in the Abyss, capable of detecting approaching creatures' fear sources through special sensory abilities, then projecting hallucinations.

For Abyss explorers, nothing induces greater fear than encountering an Apostle. Hence, they frequently mimic them."

Eyes narrowing, Luo En considered the creature's value:

"Why mimic them? For predation? defense? Or some form of communication?"

"Primarily a defense mechanism." Uther explained,

"Pepero Grass possesses weak physical defenses, but their hallucination-manufacturing abilities are exquisite. Most threats flee in terror.

In the Abyss ecosystem, they occupy a unique niche—not apex predators nor mere prey, but surviving through these deceptive tactics."

New questions formed immediately: "If an explorer isn't frightened by the hallucinations, what happens next?"

"Excellent question." Uther's projection brightened,

"Typically, they escalate to stronger fear stimulation, intensifying the target's terror.

If ineffective, they release a special neurotoxin attempting to induce unconsciousness.

As a last resort, they flee collectively, sacrificing part of their group to preserve the majority."

"Based on the mana decay level in this Memory Crystal, I estimate this memory formed approximately two months ago." Uther continued, expectation evident in his tone,

"Meaning we might find this rare plant in the same region."

"Does it have special value?" Luo En's eyes gained a practical gleam.

"Considerable value." Uther's projection solidified noticeably, clearly enthused,

"Pepero Grass secretes a unique mana crystal called 'Hallucination Crystal'—the core component for crafting highest-grade illusionary arts. A small piece fetches hundreds of Mana Stones on the market."

His voice turned more serious:

"But its true value lies in research. Pepero Grass's mana structure contains innate understanding of consciousness projection, making it uniquely valuable for developing Phantom Husk prototypes."

Luo En immediately grasped the discovery's significance.

For any mage preparing to ascend as an Archmage, research materials aiding Phantom Husk prototype development were priceless treasures.

Carefully returning the Memory Crystal to its specialized container, he turned his gaze back to Uther after brief contemplation:

“Professor, regarding the Time Hound Eveprince briefly mentioned to me earlier…I have some questions I’d like to ask.”

Uther’s Phantom Husk abruptly froze in place, the silver glow of its form completely halting its fluid motion.

After a moment, it resumed movement, but its rhythm had visibly slowed and dulled. “You’ve encountered them.”

This was a statement, not a question.

Luo En didn’t deny it, merely nodding slightly.

“During my most recent meditation breakthrough, I may have…touched fragments of Memory that weren’t meant to be accessed.”

He deliberately omitted specific details about the “Hermit” and “Devourer,” offering only enough information for the other to understand the situation.

Uther’s Phantom Husk floated midair. Luo En could feel the other observing him—deeply, thoroughly, as though evaluating something.

Finally, Uther let out an almost imperceptible sigh.

“Since you’ve experienced this firsthand, you must’ve formed your own observations and conclusions. Tell me, young man—what did you learn from this dangerous encounter?”

“They’re far more dangerous than I imagined,” Luo En admitted.

“During our first encounter, I was nearly powerless to resist. Their attack method is uniquely terrifying. Those mouthparts seem to bypass any conventional spirit barrier, and their speed is so overwhelming that reacting feels impossible.

Additionally, they possess a reset ability—they can undo any damage they’ve taken.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“But in the crisis, I noticed certain traits that might be weaknesses.

They appear to rely on specific Shadow Angles to attack—like intersections in the Time Flow. Eliminating these shadows could limit their mobility and combat effectiveness to some extent.”

Uther’s Phantom Husk expanded slightly.

“Extremely accurate observations! Even experienced mages don’t necessarily catch this critical detail during their first encounter.”

His tone carried genuine admiration.

“Time Hounds indeed exploit those Shadow Angles—more precisely, the subtle intersections of Time Flow—to achieve their omnidirectional attacks.”

“But I also realized that even by dispelling the shadows and restricting their movements, defeating them still seems nearly impossible,” Luo En recalled the perilous battle.

“Especially with their ability to reset their condition… It feels like an unsolvable puzzle.”

“Time Reset,” Uther confirmed.

“One of the Time Hound’s most terrifying abilities. They can erase all damage inflicted, as if it never occurred. Many Moonlight Rank mages still avoid direct confrontation with them.”

“Then—is there any way to truly defeat them?”

Luo En asked directly, his eyes gleaming with eager curiosity.

Uther’s Phantom Husk hesitated midair, as if weighing his words.

“To kill a Time Hound, you must satisfy three conditions.”

He extended a finger formed of silver light.

“First, you must possess spiritual energy at or above the Moonlight Rank to simultaneously affect multiple time points. Without this foundational strength, you can’t even stably lock onto the Time Hound’s true form.”

A second finger lit up.

“Second, you’ll need at least one specialized spell capable of Time Anchoring—such as the Time Anchoring spell itself. These spells temporarily paralyze the Time Hound’s Time Manipulation Ability, preventing resets. However, such spells are extremely rare. The School’s contribution point exchange list contains them, but they typically require thousands of points.”

The third finger joined.

“Third—and most crucially—you must attack their ‘past, present, and future’ time states simultaneously. This requires a unique Spirit Attack technique called Triple Phase Detonation, an advanced variant of Spirit Shockwave. It triggers spirit shockwaves across multiple time points at once.”

Luo En carefully memorized this information, already formulating potential cultivation paths in his mind.

“Time Anchoring” and “Triple Phase Detonation” were intriguing advanced fields—perhaps not immediately actionable, but worth studying.

“Are there specific training methods to develop these abilities?” He pressed further.

“Of course,” Uther nodded, clearly pleased by Luo En’s eagerness.

“Time Anchoring is currently too distant for you to grasp, and confidentiality agreements prevent me from explaining it outright.”

Luo En didn’t seem disappointed, beginning a polite thanks—but Uther suddenly shifted tone.

“Triple Phase Detonation, however, can be explained to a limited extent. It might even help improve your Spirit Shockwave.”

“Triple Phase Detonation’s training is extremely complex,” Uther continued.

“It requires mastering foundational Spirit Shockwave first, then undergoing a spiritual split training method—dividing your consciousness into three parts fixed on specific past, present, and future time points, then launching simultaneous Spirit Attacks from all three.”

His tone grew more cautious.

“I must warn you—this training is highly dangerous. Excessive consciousness splitting risks permanent spiritual damage or even personality fragmentation. Never attempt it without sufficient spiritual energy foundations and professional guidance.”

As if shifting topics, Uther’s tone suddenly softened, tinged with nostalgia.

“Speaking of Time Hounds…allow me to tell you about the ‘Clock King’ and the Canine Kings.”

Luo En straightened slightly, curiosity brightening his eyes.

Uther rarely shared historical anecdotes during private meetings. This story clearly held special significance.

“Time Hounds aren’t all solitary hunters,” Uther’s voice carried a warning edge.

“They’re tiered. Weakest are the Strays—lurking in shallow Time River regions, preying on faint consciousnesses that accidentally brush time boundaries.

Stronger are the Clanners, possessing enhanced temporal perception to actively track targets.

And at the pinnacle…are the Canine Kings.”

“Unlike ordinary hunters, Canine Kings lead their clans. Their overall strength surpasses regular Time Hounds, and they command hunting squads.

But most terrifyingly,” Uther’s voice darkened, “Canine Kings can autonomously generate movable and attackable Dimensional Angles within consciousness domains.

This means they no longer depend on natural temporal gaps—they create their own attack pathways.”

Luo En recalled his harrowing battle.

Had the opponent possessed this Dimensional Angle creation ability, the outcome would’ve been drastically different.

“A Canine King-led hunting squad could threaten most Archmages. Even certain top-tier Archmages with unfavorable affinity would have no choice but to flee.”

Uther’s Phantom Husk dimmed slightly.

“But the only mage to break this rule…was Clock King Erika.”

His tone turned wistful.

“She was one of the Second Era’s most brilliant mages. The only one ever hailed as ‘King’ before becoming an Archmage.

It’s said she could briefly rival true Lich Kings. Her temporal manipulation precision remains unmatched to this day.”

Uther’s form flickered faintly.

“She became legendary for discovering the Time Hound’s fatal weakness and systematically hunting them.

This earned the Canine Kings’ attention.

Before becoming an Archmage, Erika ingeniously killed a Canine King and fused its core structure into her Soul Anchoring Object.

The event shook the entire arcane world and earned her the title ‘Clock King.’”

“Soul Anchoring Object…” Luo En murmured, his expression deep in thought.

This term wasn’t unfamiliar—detailed in the Abyssal Life Compendium, these were special artifacts created by Archmages to combat the Abyss Curse.

In fact, recent progress in his “History Research” skill had already sparked suspicions about his “Rare Relic” origins.

Combined with his pocket watch’s powerful temporal abilities…

And the striking connection between the “Clock King” title and his own artifact…

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end