The vanished status window.
Ian didn’t bother searching for it and walked down the wide-open corridor toward the stairs.
He no longer used the elevator. He had used it just now because the situation was urgent, but there was no need to choose to isolate himself in an enclosed space at this point. The stairs were better instead.
Thinking so, Ian advanced down the path squelching with blood.
The entrance to the stairs was blocked tight. Whether the doorknob had been crushed from the inside, it wouldn’t turn at all.
Bang—!
Without hesitation, he destroyed it. He roughly tore off the doorknob that had been shattered by the bullet and dangled loosely, and stepped through the door that opened with a screech.
The moment he entered, the fishy stench unique to seafood wafted thickly toward him.
It wasn’t to the point of being unbearable, but even so, it was a nauseating stench. Perhaps because it was mixed with the scent of blood filling the surroundings, his head seemed to throb for no reason as he smelled it.
*This must be proof that the Mystery has begun to move in earnest.*
Ian rubbed his nose to roughly dilute the smell and climbed the stairs upward.
*It was a being that originally grew stronger as time passed, but now that the situation has turned out like this, it won’t be able to stay still either.*
Though a Mystery composed of malice toward humans and inexplicable supernatural phenomena, they were not without the fear of death. Hadn’t the ghosts occupying the officetel fled frantically when they found themselves in a situation where they seemed likely to be exorcised?
There wouldn’t be much difference just because it was a cruise ship. With two mages beginning to operate without reserve, even such a being couldn’t afford to remain leisurely.
Whatever the case, there was no need to worry much about it.
Whether it moved or not, the task at hand had been clear from the beginning.
Strategies and weaknesses didn’t matter in the slightest. There was no reason to take the long way around when he had the means to kill it directly.
Click.
Ian opened the cylinder and reloaded. Cold magnum rounds filled the cylinder’s interior, and the muzzle, still radiating residual heat, suffused the entire barrel with a faint warmth.
Using magic was fine too, but handling a firearm was still far more comfortable. Even if he used magic as his main force when fighting multiple enemies, in one-on-one situations, it seemed better to pull the trigger while using magic as support.
*A gun is just the fireball of modern magic.*
What else could a murder tool capable of killing someone with a click of the trigger be, if not magic?
“.......”
With such idle thoughts, he went up one more floor.
The fourth floor.
Perhaps because it was a floor assigned an ominous number, the door leading to the fourth floor was completely smashed to pieces. Steel plates rolling about on the floor had been left crumpled as they were, and squirming pieces of flesh were plastered onto the broken walls and floor.
Upon closer inspection, they seemed to be sailors hit by artillery shells. Though oddly dressed in marine uniforms, even with half their bodies blown away, their fingertips and toes still trembled, as if they could still move their tendons and nerves. Of course, those who had lost their limbs could not do so.
“Hmm.”
Aside from the sprawled-out sailors, no other anomalies were visible. Ian held a grimoire in one hand and twirled the revolver with the other as he approached a writhing sailor. It was a sailor whose left head—from the nose up—had been entirely blown away.
“......Huu, huu......”
Surprisingly, he was still breathing.
To think breathing was possible when half his brain was gone.
He had suspected they weren’t normal humans, but he hadn’t expected to see this level of vitality.
If a sailor was like this, the captain would surely display even tougher vitality.
It wasn’t certain, but confirming the possibility wasn’t bad. Ian forcefully jammed the muzzle into the creature’s crushed eye socket.
Squelch......
Sticky fluid and blood clung thickly to the muzzle. The sailor convulsed at the sensation of the metal chunk boring in through the eye socket, but Ian paid him no mind.
“Where is the captain?”
At his clear voice, the sailor realized that the one attacking him was not a monster but a human, and the corners of his lips trembled.
“......You, you’re human. But you’re no ordinary human.”
“I’m not particularly fond of straying from the topic of conversation. I’d appreciate it if you’d answer what you’re asked.”
Shove.
As he pushed the muzzle deeper, the sensation of a brain that was at once firm and squishy traveled up along the gun barrel to Ian. The sailor shook violently from the pain that felt like it was searing his nerves whole, yet held a fishy smile.
“He has already received the gaze of the Great One. He is not someone a mere creature like you can do anything to.”
“.......”
“Flowing blood shall drench the earth, and all people shall chant His name! We are feeble creations, frail beings! Therefore, we shall joyfully receive His grace!”
Ian discovered something faintly glimmering on the inside of the praising sailor’s tongue and furrowed his brows. He pulled the trigger as-is, blowing the sailor’s brain to bits, then yanked the dangling tongue out hard. The tongue came out without any resistance whatsoever.
Drip.
Blood flowed from the cross-section of the torn tongue.
The amount of blood was too great to be called a simple hemorrhage. No matter how many blood vessels there were in the tongue, it made no sense for blood to pour out as if an artery had been severed.
It seemed this tongue itself was the medium that granted power to the cult members, including the sailors.
Ian did not bother to shake off his blood-soaked hand and examined the pattern drawn on the tip of the tongue.
“......A pattern.”
A grotesque pattern of a long tongue stabbing like a spear into a gaping maw.
This seemed to be the symbol of the cult, nothing less than their emblem.
As if afraid someone would say they weren’t a cult worshipping an outer god, it was drawn in a truly grotesque manner. Ian clicked his tongue and roughly threw the lump of flesh he was holding onto the floor.
Then the tongue began to squirm and move as if it were a living creature.
Confirming this, Ian held a faint smile.
“You were a monster?”
He had thought the pattern alone was the source of power, but it seemed the tongue itself had been the main body. Without hesitation, Ian picked the tongue back up, converted its form with re-creation magic, and popped it into his bag.
Now that he had confirmed it was a monster, there was no need to hesitate.
This was Ian, who had diligently harvested materials even in the urgent situation at the hospital. Things were no different now.
And so, while exploring the floor, Ian moved about pulling out the sprawled sailors’ tongues and converting them into materials.
The sailors had been alive and breathing until their tongues were pulled, but the moment the slick flesh was extracted, they convulsed and died. Thanks to this, Ian realized their weakness was their tongues.
Well, to him, weaknesses weren’t that important. After all, as long as he could touch them, he could kill them regardless of weaknesses.
Still, there was no harm in knowing.
Ian grabbed the head of the sailor who had been convulsing until just now, ripped off his lower jaw to keep his mouth from closing, and pulled out the tongue. Then he tied it with some nearby cord and tossed it on the floor.
The reason he didn’t convert this tongue into material was simple. All the tongues he had pulled out so far had shown squirming movements, as though trying to head somewhere.
He had already harvested plenty of materials; now it was time to receive guidance.
He didn’t know where it led, but there was surely something at the core of the Mystery there. It might be on its way to the captain, but whatever the case, there was no harm in following.
Ian held the cord tying the tongue like a leash and put a cigarette in his mouth.
“Now, guide me.”
[Kkyuing.]
The tongue moved jumpingly with a squelching sound, shedding blood like tears.
*
On the way, he encountered evil spirits being handled by Seoa. The ghosts that had been running like mad dogs saw Ian, bowed respectfully, and went down the stairs.
[Kkiaaaaack!!]
The descending ghosts let out monstrous cries. It seemed Seoa had requested reinforcements and they were moving; apparently, she too had begun fighting.
Ian was also quite curious about how a necromancer fought, but he had no time to look elsewhere now. He walked holding the leash connected to the tongue and clicked the trigger.
Bang! Ta-ang!
The muzzle spewed fire and launched a lead slug. A giant worm impaled by the bullet collapsed, and Ian threw a mirror over it.
Thud!
The mirror, burrowing into the blue flesh, glowed and transformed the worm’s body into glass shards. With a sharp clattering sound, its body fell apart with a patter. Ian tugged the leash slightly as he stepped on the glass fragments.
“Are you sure you’re going the right way? Looking at your current state, it seems you’re moving by instinct rather than conscious thought.”
[Kkyuiing!]
The tongue let out a small roar and crossed the glass fragments. Though the sharp shards tore and split its flesh, the tiny tongue paid no heed and hopped along.
Based on his observations so far, this thing seemed to possess no reason. It had no intelligence to begin with.
The sounds it made were closer to clumsily imitating vocal organs; they were by no means pleasant to hear.
If forced to describe it, it was a cry close to the cute onomatopoeia “kkyuing,” but objectively it wasn’t cute at all. The voice was hoarse and sharp, like dozens of old men spitting it out, and listening to it made one’s head throb.
Seeing as his vision faintly distorted, it seemed to be continuously applying mental attacks. Thanks to the grimoire, he was fine, but it was no less vexing. Ian stopped the tongue for a moment and lightly stomped on it.
[Kkyuing! Kkyhiiing!]
The tongue screamed.
From the thing’s perspective, it must have felt like a bizarre event where a cord sprung out of empty air to bind it and even stomp on it. Naturally, this was because the magic bestowed upon his coat made Ian invisible to the eye.
Of course, he had no intention of dispelling the magic.
What careless fool would reveal himself without knowing what might happen?
There was no need whatsoever to endure losses. At the very least, it was right to confirm where this tongue was heading before taking other actions.
Ian thought so and lifted his foot.
Once the weight crushing it was gone, the tongue hurriedly moved as if fleeing from a predator. He held the leash and followed behind.
Crossing floors like that, fighting and remaining concealed, the place he arrived at was the bridge.
A place commonly called the control room.
It was where the captain and other crew members adjusted the ship’s direction and speed. It seemed there was something related to the cult inside.
It was a place he had somewhat expected. Ian let go of the leash he was holding, and before entering the bridge, loosened his stiff wrist and shoulder. He also loaded fresh bullets into the cylinder and slightly drew out the knife handle from his coat pocket so he could react at any moment.
While he was doing so, the tongue slipped in under the bridge door.
He didn’t rush to chase it. In any case, he no longer had any use for the thing.
Ian calmly checked his condition until the very end, confirmed there were no issues, and placed his hand on the door.
“Be reborn.”
Crunch!
The thick steel door shriveled and transformed into something sharp like a spear. Ian grabbed it firmly and stuck his head into the bridge interior.
“.......”
The inside of the bridge was fairly clean. Though water sloshed on the floor, there were no corpses or places turned into bloodbaths.
However... the space was a bit large. No, it was very large. It was massive enough to be several times the size of an ordinary bridge.
A space completely different from what it appeared to be from the outside. Ian stuck the spear into the floor, opened his grimoire, and slowly moved his feet.
“Huu......”
It was then. Cigarette smoke faintly rose from a corner of the bridge. Ian immediately turned his head to check the owner of the exhaled smoke.
“Welcome.”
The first thing to catch his eyes was a white beard. Tongues were stuck between the tangled whiskers.
Its eye was missing, and blue worms were pouring out of its ear. Between the parted lips, tiny pieces of tongue flesh, packed as densely as teeth, were fully visible.
A hideous sight. However, Ian did not take his eyes off the creature.
Perhaps finding that quite pleasing, the creature wearing a captain’s hat twitched its pipe and laughed.
“O mage who receives the grace of the Great One.”
Above the human head impaled in the creature’s chest, a nameplate bearing the word “Captain” faintly shed light.