[Bweeeek.]
The liver-shaped monster spat out the arm it had half-chewed and crawled across the ground, charging at Cecilia. She instantly regenerated her severed arm and thrust it straight forward.
*Crunch!*
The maw attached to the lower portion of the liver gaped wide and clamped down roughly on Cecilia’s elbow. The sound of shattering joints and crushed bone rang clearly through the fog-filled mountain.
But there was no scream. After willingly offering her arm, Cecilia swung her cross-shaped dagger from below. The lump of liver, pierced squarely through its center, died on the spot.
“Hoo!”
She flicked the blood from her dagger and stowed it away, then gripped her rosary with her blood-soaked hand. Light flooded out, and her arm regenerated. With both arms restored, Cecilia took up her greatsword and charged at the remaining enemies.
That was when a clump of black seawater that had crawled rapidly across the floor burst like a bomb.
As if a palm had slapped the water’s surface, seawater splashed in all directions, devouring everything it touched while releasing a thick fishy stench and a salty fragrance.
“Uwah! It’s cold!”
Only humans were exceptions. Frederica wiped the water from her cheek and stepped back. Yohan also roughly wiped the clumps of plankton from his priestly robes and turned his head toward Ian and the rest of the group slowly approaching through the fog.
“Are we cooperating?”
“I felt like playing the patriot for the first time in a while.”
Ian smirked and raised the head of Holmes high in his hand. At that, the various bodily organs perched upon the branches were plainly revealed.
From livers to lungs, kidneys, uteruses, ovaries, brains, bones, and so on. Every organ found in a human body was alive and moving, each possessed of its own ego.
Among them, the lungs continuously spewed out mist. The amount wasn’t that great, but if left alone, it was clear the fog would gradually expand.
*So this disaster in Korea is ultimately those lungs continuously emitting fog until it covers not just this mountain but the entire country.*
The reason for constantly expanding the fog was obvious.
Most likely, if they set foot where the fog had not spread, they would be unable to sustain their life functions.
*Yohan said the monster the prophets saw was one that repeatedly conceived and gave birth. And this fog is excessively moist to the point of abnormality, and the smell is rank. Every single one of those monsters has an umbilical cord attached to the back of its head.*
Narrowing his eyes, Ian watched the plankton of the outer sea devouring the monsters.
Fishy stench. Umbilical cord. And moisture. Life functions severed upon leaving the fog. Conception and childbirth.
“…….”
Perhaps the entire interior of this mist was nothing more than the inside of the monster’s womb.
If so, the fog was amniotic fluid, and those monsters were essentially fetuses yet to be born. Their instinct to devour anything was likely the monsters’ own interpretation of a fetus receiving nutrients from its mother.
“……Tch.”
It was a simple hypothesis, yet thinking about it alone made disgust surge up. Ian habitually placed a cigarette in his mouth, but upon confirming it was quickly becoming damp, he stuffed it back into his pocket.
As for a lighter… ordinary items didn’t function. Only the sound-consuming flame worked properly.
However, it wasn’t something strictly necessary in the current situation, so he stowed it away again. Instead, he increased the luminosity of Holmes’s head and set it down on the ground.
Yohan tilted his head at the sight.
“A useful monster. What’s its name?”
[They call me Sherlock Holmes.]
“Ah, Holmes. I’m quite fond of those novels, personally. Though I’ve heard monsters that grew up feeding on novels tend to have all sorts of issues.”
[That would be thanks to the factions that restrain and slander me. I may have eccentric quirks—an appreciation for opium, a love of tobacco, a somewhat odd disposition—but I do not do insane things. Isn’t that right, Watson?]
*Tap.*
Holmes’s body waggled the cane it held. Yohan looked down at Holmes’s head with ice-cold eyes.
In the meantime, the plankton of the outer sea had already devoured all the monsters nearby. Having lost their prey, the plankton briefly scraped at the trees before returning to where they originally were at Ian’s gesture.
“Strange magic. For being used so easily, the effects are quite remarkable? I suppose that’s the performance of a grimoire for you.”
Frederica muttered. Yohan turned to look at her.
“Frederica. Refrain from unnecessary words.”
“Yes, yes.”
Leaving the two of them, Ian approached Cecilia. She was staring intently at a severed umbilical cord, leaving her tattered nun’s habit as it was.
“What is it? Did you find something?”
“……No. I just thought that if I followed this, it might lead me to where the monsters are.”
“Probably not. Space is twisted a bit strangely here.”
It was Alisa who answered. She trampled the slimy umbilical cord under her combat boot and looked around.
“A considerable level of barrier arts is spread across the entire mountain. Unless you destroy the barrier, following the umbilical cord will only make you wander the mountain aimlessly.”
“Ah.”
“What forms the barrier doesn’t seem to be a formation but a barrier stone, so the method of destroying it is simple. You just have to find the barrier stone and smash it.”
Saying so, she placed her hand over her upper chest and closed her eyes.
“O great hunter, I seek to borrow your eyes. Lend me your gaze.”
*Shhhk.*
The moment she finished chanting, her pupils turned golden. Alisa briefly looked around, then lightly pricked her finger with a dagger to draw blood. She applied the falling drops around her eyes.
*Slip.*
The blood evaporated immediately. Instead, the sclera of Alisa’s left eye was dyed red. As if a single piece of gold floated upon a sea of blood, a golden iris drifted atop the red sclera.
At the truly bizarre sight, Cecilia furrowed her brow. Ian, on the other hand, observed her with an intrigued gaze.
“Last time it was something about a knight, and this time it’s a hunter?”
“I’m calling forth a soul. I’m a necromancer.”
She continued speaking while staring intently toward the east.
“It’s a type of necromancy that doesn’t directly handle souls but calls forth the abilities of the already deceased through magical procedure. The magic circles engraved on my body are to cut out unnecessary steps and activate magic quickly.”
“So they’re not just on your stomach.”
“I have one each on my back, chest, stomach, back of my hand, and tongue. They’re all different magic circles, and the types of souls they call forth differ as well.”
Having said that, she pointed east and stowed her dagger away.
“Let’s go. The barrier stone is over there.”
Following her guidance, the group set out.
The clergy took the lead. Cecilia, who possessed regenerative abilities, was at the very front, with Frederica and Yohan sticking close behind her.
Both were superhumans who drew upon faith as their source, just like Cecilia, so they were more than qualified to stand at the forefront.
Yohan’s superhuman ability was extremely simple. It was the power to drastically amplify the effects of items related to faith, such as holy relics and holy water, though it was accompanied by a high fever as a cost. Since it became dangerous past 40 degrees, it couldn’t be used as recklessly as Cecilia did.
Frederica’s ability was similarly intuitive.
“I can ask the angels things I’m curious about, and they answer me in detail! I can also wrap the angels’ flames around my weapon to fight!”
“An angel GPT, huh. What’s the cost?”
“If I overuse it, I get severe headaches and a burning sensation? But those are all things I can endure with grit!”
Frederica shouted with a grin. Ian let out a grunt.
“Did you use that ability to check whether this place is dangerous or not?”
“Yeah. They said it’s dangerous? But what can we do. We’re fucking nice Inquisitors. Walking a thorny path is only natural for us. Even if the soles of our feet are torn to shreds, we must march toward death!”
Frederica shook off the chunks of flesh stuck to her halberd. Ian gave a wry smile.
*Her actions and speech are frivolous, but her nature is kind, is that it? She’s making damn sure nobody says she isn’t a member of the clergy.*
The clergy and the Papacy that appeared in creative works were usually corrupt and rotten, yet every cleric Ian had met so far had an upright personality. The three before him were no exception. Though their policies differed individually, they were all united in their willingness to sacrifice themselves.
*I don’t think I could act like such a saint. Nor do I have any intention to.*
The difference between a mage and a cleric was like heaven and earth. If clerics adopted a spirit of sacrifice believing they would reach heaven someday, mages were lunatics who believed they could create heaven with their own hands.
Rather than ascending to heaven, they were obsessed with turning the very ground they stood on into heaven.
That was why the two could never coexist, and indeed, they never had. History, including the witch hunts, proved this.
It was only in modern times that relations had improved; in the past, it had truly been fierce. Simply cooperating like this would have been unimaginable in the old days.
Of course, during the witch hunts, the Papacy had also been quite corrupt, producing many unnecessary victims.
But regardless, the starting point had been the friction between “mages who treated humans merely as materials” and “clerics who loved killing too much.” It was ambiguous to call it solely the Papacy’s fault.
*If I had been born back then, I could have raised the average perception of mages considerably. What a shame.*
While Ian was thinking this, the group had already ventured deep into the mountain. Consequently, the creatures revealing themselves grew even more grotesque in form.
Human heads hanging like fruit from branches in clusters.
A lone pair of arms running about with a mouth at the elbow and fingers at both ends.
Lungs that sang songs.
Large and small intestines spraying mucus like poison.
Bodily organs possessed of egos had evolved a step further and were frolicking about the mountain as if it were a playground.
Still, fighting them wasn’t particularly difficult. The problem was that these things were evolving in real time.
“That fruit over there. Until just now, its eyes were closed. But now it’s opened them and is licking its lips.”
Yohan muttered as he looked at the hanging fruit. Alisa aimed her shotgun and replied.
“It’s started mental attacks too. It seems to make you want to eat it just by looking at it.”
“What a troublesome trick…….”
Yohan sighed and clasped his hands together. He then recited a passage of scripture.
“Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
*Laaaa…….*
The moment the passage ended, the rosary Yohan wore emitted light. It gently enveloped the group’s bodies.
“It is a simple mental barrier. With this, we should be able to resist the whispers of devils.”
Yohan spoke and looked around.
The light wrapping around the bodies of the Inquisitors with strong faith was incredibly intense. In contrast, Alisa’s light was faint. Holmes, not being human to begin with, didn’t even fall within the range of holy relics.
And Ian, strangely, was emitting light comparable to that of the Inquisitors. Yohan let out a hollow laugh at the sight.
“……What are you? How is your light as strong as ours?”
“How should I know? Probably because I prayed fervently when I was young.”
“Born into the faith?”
“I’m an orphan.”
“…….”
Yohan clamped his mouth shut. Ian waggled his grimoire.
“I’ve seen everything now…….”
Yohan gripped his rosary tightly in a incredulous tone. At the same time, the light enveloping the group vanished.
It did not mean the effect had ended; he had simply erased the outwardly visible traces.
“Let’s go. I don’t think it does us any good to keep dawdling.”
Cecilia spoke. The group immediately moved, following her as she took the lead.
[Bweeeeek!]
[K-k-k. Grrk.]
With every step they took, monsters leaped out, and all were slaughtered by the hands of the clergy, Alisa, and Holmes.
Ian did nothing. Not by intention, but simply because not a single monster charged at him. Even if their eyes met by chance, they would all turn their heads and flee.
Thanks to that, Ian could comfortably organize his thoughts while simply firing his revolver occasionally.
*It’s clear that those things and I have some connection. I can roughly gloss over being unaffected by the fog, but their behavior of avoiding me is obviously strange.*
*Bam!*
He pulled the trigger, and a spider-shaped pelvis about to bite Alisa’s leg was blown to pieces.
*But…… among the magic I can use, there are no spells capable of creating creatures and making them evolve like that.*
No matter how much it was called recreation magic, he couldn’t just turn a locomotive into a choo-choo Thomas.
Recreation magic was, strictly speaking, magic that reassembled everything; it was not magic that granted life.
*Then what is it? What the hell is making them act like they’re related to me?*
The moment Ian thought this and casually looked down at his grimoire, a single word lodged itself sharply into his sight.
[The Mistress of the Outer Sea]
One of the Outer Gods deeply related to Ian, and the author who wrote the Records of the Deep Sea.
She who creates life directly, the Mother of the Sea who lets it roam free.
And the life she created generally did not bare its fangs at Ian easily.
Yes, just as it was now.
“……Ah.”
Realization struck his mind like lightning. Ian looked down at his grimoire and muttered in a small voice.
“……Rose, did you do this?”
[Mmm-hmm!]
The grimoire emitted a refreshing vibration. It was Rose’s answer conveyed through the grimoire, and it was also an affirmative.
“…….”
Ian’s face contorted on its own.
That was when someone roughly tore through the bushes and revealed themselves. The group’s gazes automatically turned that way.
“Haa……! Haa……! I finally escaped……!”
The one who revealed herself was a familiar face.
A dirty black gothic lolita dress. Mud-covered ashen-brown hair and blue eyes. And limbs that were nowhere to be seen, as though she had illegally dumped them somewhere.
No matter how one looked at it, it was Mariang. Because she happened to raise her head at that moment, her eyes met Ian’s precisely.
“……Ah!”
Mariang’s exhausted face brightened.
“Master! You’ve come to save me!”
“…….”
Looking at her, who had somehow become a doll with her limbs cut off, Ian clamped his mouth shut.
“……You look exactly the same as last time. Could it be…… a dismemberment enthusiast?”
Cecilia muttered without thinking, looking down at her own perfectly intact arm.
“That’s not it. Shut up.”
Ian immediately retorted.