The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Chapter 2447



For a long second, Randidly and Laplace stared at one another.

This place will fall.” Laplace hissed, the intensity of the words causing a few spurts of blood out of the wounds to its eyes. Randidly tightened his grip on Acri and shoved the plant spear just the smallest margin forward, ignoring the rumbling feedback from the frozen time within the Eternity.

A small retaliation, but it also gave him a small amount of time to consider.

He felt the dangerous subconscious roiling above and knew he would need to act. If anything, Randidly’s passage up through the waves of the dead had only made him more wary of what existed within the twisted psyche of the Nexus, lurking amongst its near-infinite dead. Obviously, his Vessel was more than enough to withstand the darkness of the Nexus washing over him. And Randidly probably had methods to severely limit the fallout from such a detonation.

Tsk, of course Elhume still somehow finds a way to cause trouble. Ranididly’s eyes flashed upward. He structured the Nexus this way in order to prevent Pine from degrading too quickly; even the darkness was recycled and used as a buffer. Yet now that so much time has passed, that darkness will kill Pine just as surely as it previously saved him…

Yet two facts twisted Randidly’s face into a grimace. First, the disposition of the dead themselves. They wouldn’t do much damage at first, but he knew that those powerful figures who had been dead for a long time would affect the living. They wouldn’t be able to help themselves, so long bubbling in the wicked cauldron of desires. These souls were tainted water being dumped into a creek. Downstream, the sickness would spread.

Secondly, Randidly didn’t trust the machinations of Pangu, and couldn’t help but show his teeth as he thought about all those reflected dolls waiting on the upper portions of the tower of the dead. It was quite possible the eventual rupture of the concentrated subconscious was part of another plot.

Honestly, Randidly was sick of plots.

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