Chapter 72
The absolute number of spells recorded in the Deep-Sea Logbook wasn't very large. The opposite of the Hand of Re-Creation.
In the case of the Hand of Re-Creation, it contained spells across many fields—defense, stealth, language, medicine, and more. Of course, it also had a few offensive spells. They weren’t the spectacular kind you’d see in a fantasy game, but they were more than enough to take a life.
Even setting that aside, as long as there was alchemy—a versatile and useful kind of magic—attack, defense, and movement could all be performed without any restrictions.
On the other hand, the Deep-Sea Logbook?
Most of the magic recorded in it was summoning arts, a few offensive spells, and one defensive spell.
So dealing with a variety of situations was, in practice, nearly impossible. Its defensive spell was excellent, but not on the same level as alchemy; its offensive spells were powerful, but they were nothing compared to Re-Creation magic, which outright ignored things like defense.
Then all that was left was summoning. But even that was a rather troublesome power to use in direct combat. If the opponent was small or there were only a few of them, it became awkward to use. At the very least, it wasn’t a grimoire he should be pulling out right now.
Even so, the reason Ian drew out this black grimoire was simple.
Because this was the sea.
Whoooooosh!!
The seawater filling the area answered Ian's will. The water pooled on the floor was pushed away from the ground beneath his feet, and the moisture and salt clinging to the ceiling and walls swayed side to side as if dancing.
It looked both like the devotional movements of worshippers praising a god and like a limp drowned body thrashing to survive.
It was impossible to say which was more accurate, but neither was wrong.
A drowning human will seek out a god, no matter what, in the moment death draws near.
Would the sea be any different?
[Kreeeek.]
When seawater dripping from the ceiling fell onto the inside of the Deep-Sea Logbook, black droplets began pattering down the cover. The instant they touched the seawater pooled on the floor, they ravenously devoured it and stained the surroundings with a black sea (黑海).
Erosion. Or an act bordering on invasion.
The sea is, by nature, a mother-like existence that embraces all life. It contains an uncountable number of living beings, and every great lifeform was once a single-celled organism dwelling in the primordial sea.
But that story is limited to Earth.
We don’t know the universe, we don’t know the sea, and beyond that, we don’t know the seas that exist in the universe.
Likewise, we don’t know what happens when a drop of the Outer Sea touches Earth’s seawater.
Now, we can know.
……!
The sea let out a silent scream.
The writhing seawater, as if drowning itself, was torn apart and transformed wholesale. In an instant, the environment transformed into the sea of the cosmos, and small, round egg-like things floated up from the pitch-black water.
“……What the hell is this.”
The captain muttered, not even thinking of staunching the blood flowing from his shoulder.
Ian also looked around in confusion, still gripping the grimoire.
‘……So this is what happens when it meets the sea?’
He had vaguely expected something like this. Even if it was called the sea of the cosmos, so long as it still fell under the category of 'sea,' he had guessed it would show some sort of reaction when it met Earth's seawater.
But this was a bit too much. Without using any magic at all, just having seawater touch the grimoire produced this level of erosion—it was absurd.
But he wasn't panicked. If it had been magic used by someone else, Ian would have stayed wary, but this black seawater could do him no harm. And it would remain that way.
There was no need to waste mental energy on something that wasn't even dangerous. He discarded the last traces of caution he had left and stared at the seawater circling around him with interest.
……If he used erosion magic here as well, what kind of result would there be?
A question that suddenly occurred to him.
But he had no time to dwell on it.
Swaaaash!!
A tongue shot toward Ian like a spear as he was thinking. Ian hurled himself backward and plunged the Deep-Sea Logbook into the puddle on the floor.
“Upon the Great One’s domain, in His name I command you. Water, become a shield.”
Krrrk.
The moment Ian cast the spell, the placid puddle surged backward and became a sharp barrier. The tongue never even touched his flesh; it was shredded to pieces against the barrier.
The shredded tongue rolled across the floor, and the floating eggs used it as nourishment, growing larger. The captain watched it with a face full of chilling hatred and fear, his one remaining eye trembling.
“너……! 다곤의 사도가 아니었군……!”
“……Dagon?”
Ian asked sharply as he drew out the sharp-edged grimoire.
“That Dagon from the Cthulhu Mythos?”
“Damn it, I thought you were one of them because you smelled of the sea, but you weren’t at all……!”
The captain did not answer Ian's question and instead ran a trembling hand over his face.
“I-I’ll make you an offer.”
He spat out the tongue he had bitten through and continued.
“Spare me. Then I won’t show my face here ever again.”
“……That’s out of the blue.”
Ian felt the tension drain out of him. He took the grimoire out of the water and flicked the seawater from between his fingers.
“You were trying to kill me just a moment ago, and now you’re changing your attitude awfully easily, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t know! I thought you were Dagon’s apostle! But, but this power is absolutely not something Dagon or anything like it could produce. His apostles can’t do something like this……!”
“…….”
“What great god are you serving, mage……!”
A god I serve, huh.
Strictly speaking, he wasn't serving one. It was closer to the other side clinging to him.
The grimoires he had unwillingly acquired. His everyday life had been instantly dyed with the extraordinary, and he had gone through life-threatening situations many times over. There had been quite a few times when he thought, This time, it's dangerous.
But that didn't mean he resented the grimoires.
Like it or not, they were things he would have to live with as lifelong companions. If the water had already been spilled, then rather than upsetting himself by hating them, it was better to think of them positively.
Of course, that didn't mean he planned to worship the Outer Gods and bow his head before them. As much as they wanted him, Ian would merely use them and acknowledge them as companions.
Because a relationship built on one-sided worship wasn't safe.
“I don’t serve any god.”
Ian answered as he straightened his rumpled coat.
“I have no intention of living with my head bowed in servility like you.”
“…….”
“And…… this is a personal question, but why do you grovel so hard before a god? Isn’t it better to make the god cling to you?”
It was something only Ian, beloved by the Outer Gods, could say. Having bartered away most of his body to an Outer God in order to gain power, the captain had no rebuttal to Ian’s words. Instead, he twisted his face and clenched his fist tightly.
“How dare you……! You speak to me of faith!”
Sharp claws tore his hand to shreds, but he paid them no mind and glared back.
Compared to his begging to be spared just moments ago, it was far too abrupt a change in temperament. He had probably already gone beyond the human species, and on top of that, the fight was driving him further and further out of his mind. It was the natural progression.
There was no need to drag this out. Ian took an eyeball from his pocket and, just like that, crushed the captain within its pupil.
Crunch!
With a horrific sound, the captain’s eye shattered. Transparent crystal fluid and blood ran down his cheek.
“Aaaaaaah!!”
The captain screamed and flailed his arms and legs wildly. Long, sharp tentacles. Yet not a single one could pierce the wall of water that had risen around Ian; they only tore apart.
“That’s too bad.”
Ian bit down on the last cigarette between his lips and lit it as he walked. Along the path he took, the seawater split to the sides as if making way for him. The eggs floating here and there cracked open with sharp snaps, and red eyes popped out.
For a moment, all those eyes stared straight at Ian together, then split their pupils vertically and bared teeth through the gaps.
Then they began muttering in an unknown language.
[Father.]
[The Great One’s only companion. Beloved.]
[A frail life chosen by the Mother of All Things.]
[And therefore a beautiful, fleeting being.]
The translation happened automatically. He couldn't understand it with his ears, but he understood it in his head. Ian stared at their grotesquely opening and closing mouths, then opened the grimoire and thrust his hand into the water-pressure barrier. The barrier that had been crushing the tentacles accepted his hand without resistance.
“Upon the Great One’s domain, in His name I command you. Water, become a spear.”
The moment he uttered the spell, the barrier compressed and transformed into a transparent spear.
A wavering water spear, 水槍.
“Fire.”
The instant he spoke, the spear spun like a drill and pierced the captain’s abdomen.
Kwaaaaaa!!
Blood and organs sprayed everywhere, and the severed lower body sank gurgling into the black Outer Sea.
The water wasn’t that deep, yet the lower body vanished as if it had been sunk into the depths of the sea.
“……Phew.”
Ian caught his breath for a moment and held his head with a hand.
A special kind of magic usable only in the sea. He had thought that, with such conditions attached, the cost wouldn’t be that high, but apparently because of its power he already felt a headache like a spike being driven through his skull after using it only twice. If he used it once more, it was obvious he’d pass out on the spot.
‘High risk, high return, huh. Most of these spells are like that overall…….’
Ian let out a long breath and rubbed his eyes.
A few strands of the tongue that had fallen to the floor crawled up along his thigh. Ian swatted them off with the grimoire like a flyswatter, then squatted in front of the captain, who was left with only his upper body, and exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke.
The whitish smoke rose into the air and dispersed.
Ian shook off the ash and slowly opened his mouth.
“Who is the source of your mystic power? What’s the makeup of the sect you belong to?”
“…….”
The captain did not answer. No, he could not answer.
Unfortunately, the captain had no regenerative ability strong enough to heal fatal wounds. He might have been able to mend a bullet hole in his head, but there was nothing he could do about a lower body that had been torn off entirely.
The raggedly torn organs were no different.
A lung that was half gone. In this state, not only breathing but even speaking was impossible.
There would be nothing to gain from waiting around for a guy who couldn't even regenerate.
“Your regeneration is far worse than a Vatican nun’s…….”
Ian let out a deep sigh and placed a hand on the captain’s limp head.
He switched grimoires and recited a spell. The moment he spoke the familiar words, the captain’s body turned into a tiny cube and fell to the floor.
He considered taking it, but decided not to. No matter how much of an Outer God it was from some story, the guy had been under its influence. There was no need to do something that would stir up trouble for no reason.
“Ngh…….”
The battle had ended more anticlimactically than expected, but the fatigue accumulated in his body was still considerable. Perhaps because he had fired off magic in rapid succession, his head was pounding like it had a heart of its own, and there wasn’t much strength left in his legs.
Still, he could move. Ian patted his trembling thighs, stroked the grimoire in his hand, and left the wheelhouse.
“Good job.”
[Wooooong!]
The grimoire vibrated as if it were no big deal. Ian chuckled softly too.
The water that had overflowed out of the wheelhouse was now almost gone. The seawater that had turned into the Outer Sea had long since disappeared, and the writhing worms were nowhere to be seen.
They probably vanished together when the captain died. It was a pity he couldn’t make them into materials, but still, this was enough.
[Ha! The monsters are gone! Brothers, this ship is ours now! Let’s deal with these damned ghosts and take it over completely!]
A pirate peeking out from around the corner shouted, thrusting out a blood-smeared knife. Ian, who happened to be in the pirate’s blind spot, placed a hand on the back of his head and used magic.
“Be reborn.”
[Oooh!]
The pirate turned into a cube just like that. Ian slipped the cube into his bag with practiced ease and loosened his stiff wrist.
‘I killed the captain, but nothing’s changed. Seems like I have to kill whatever’s in the sea to be done with this.’
He had expected as much to some degree, so he wasn’t surprised. He was just a little tired.
Once he finished this job, it would probably be best to rest for a while. Rather than overexerting himself for no reason, it was better to always keep himself in top condition.
Thinking that, Ian slowly took a step forward.