The absolute number of spells recorded in the Records of the Deep Sea was not very high. In that respect, it was the opposite of the Hand of Re-creation.
In the case of the Hand of Re-creation, it contained spells for a great many fields—various defensive measures, concealment, language, medicine, and more. Naturally, there were a few attack spells as well. They were not the sort of grand magic that might appear in a fantasy game, but even so, they were more than sufficient to take a life.
Even setting that aside, so long as there was alchemy, a form of magic useful in all manner of ways, attacking, defending, and moving about could be accomplished without any restrictions.
But what about the Records of the Deep Sea?
Summoning spells, a few offensive spells, and a single defensive spell. That was most of what was recorded in it.
So responding to a variety of situations was, in practice, close to impossible. Its defensive spell was excellent, but it could not compare to alchemy, and though its offensive spells were powerful, they could not compare to re-creation magic, which utterly ignored things like defensive power.
That left only summoning. But even that was a rather awkward power to use in combat against people. If the opponent was small, or few in number, it was difficult to make proper use of. In other words, at least in the current situation, it was not the grimoire to bring out.
And yet, the reason Ian had taken out this black grimoire was none other than this:
This place was the sea.
Shwaaaaaaa!!
The seawater filling every direction answered Ian’s will. The water pooled on the floor was pushed away from the spot where he stood, and the moisture and salt that filled the ceiling and walls swayed left and right as if dancing.
It looked like the rhythmic motions of believers praising their god, and it also looked like the flailing of a drowned corpse, drained of strength, struggling to survive.
It was impossible to know which of the two was correct, but at least neither was wrong.
After all, a drowning human, whatever else he might do, would seek god in the moment before death.
Would the sea be any different?
[Ki-gi-gik.]
When seawater dripping from the ceiling fell into the Records of the Deep Sea, black droplets rolled off its cover and fell, one by one. The instant those droplets touched the seawater pooled on the floor, they devoured it greedily, dyeing everything around them into a black sea.
Erosion. Or an act akin to invasion.
The sea was, by nature, like a mother that embraced all life. It held within it countless living things, and every great life-form had once been a single-celled organism dwelling in the primordial sea.
But that was a story limited to Earth.
We do not know the universe, we do not know the sea, and more than that, we do not know the seas that exist in the universe.
Likewise, we do not know what happens when droplets from the Outer Sea touch Earth’s seawater.
Now, we could know.
……!
The sea let out a soundless scream.
The seawater that had been writhing and drowning was torn apart wholesale and transformed. In an instant, the environment changed into a sea of the universe, and within the pitch-black water, small, round things like eggs began to float up.
“……What the hell is this?”
The captain muttered, not even thinking to stanch the blood flowing from his shoulder.
Ian, too, gripped the grimoire and looked around with a bewildered expression.
‘……So this is what happens when it meets the sea?’
He had vaguely expected it. Though it was called a sea of the universe, as long as it 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 going a little too far. He had not used any magic at all; seawater had simply touched the grimoire, and yet it displayed this level of erosion. It was absurd.
Still, he was not flustered. If it had been magic used by someone else, Ian would have been wary as well, but right now this black seawater was not harming him in any way. And it would remain that way.
There was no need to waste mental energy on something that posed no danger. He discarded what little vigilance remained and gazed with interest at the seawater circling around him.
……If he used erosion magic here as well, what sort of result would it produce?
A question that suddenly came to mind.
But he had no leisure to satisfy it.
Swaeeeeek!!
A tongue flew toward the thinking Ian like a spear. Ian threw himself backward and plunged the Records of the Deep Sea into the puddle of water pooled on the floor.
“Upon the territory of the Great One, in His name I command. Water, become a shield.”
Grrrrk.
The moment Ian recited the incantation, the calm puddle surged upward in reverse and became a sharp barrier. The tongue could not even touch his flesh and was ground away completely against the wall.
The shredded tongue tumbled across the floor, and the floating eggs used it as nourishment to grow larger. The captain looked at them with a face full of chilling hatred and fear, his lone eye trembling.
“You……! You weren’t an apostle of Dagon……!”
“……Dagon?”
Ian asked back as he took out the sharp grimoire.
“You mean that Dagon from the Cthulhu Mythos?”
“Damn it, you smelled of the sea, so I thought you were one of his, but you weren’t at all……!”
Instead of answering Ian’s question, the captain dragged a trembling hand down his face.
“I-I’ll make you an offer.”
He continued, spitting out the tongue he had bitten incorrectly.
“Spare me. Then I will never show myself here again.”
“……That’s sudden.”
Ian’s strength drained out of him. He lifted the grimoire from the water and shook the seawater from between his fingers.
“You were trying to kill me just now, and yet you’re changing your attitude this easily?”
“I didn’t know! I thought you were an apostle of Dagon! But, but this power is absolutely not something Dagon could produce. His apostles cannot do something like this……!”
“…….”
“Just what great god do you serve, magician……!”
What god did he serve?
Strictly speaking, he did not serve one. If anything, it was closer to them clinging to him.
The grimoires he had obtained despite never wanting them. His everyday life had been instantly dyed with the abnormal, and he had survived situations where his life hung by a thread several times over. There had been quite a few moments when he thought, This is dangerous, as well.
But that did not mean he resented the grimoires.
Whether he liked it or not, they were things he had to live with as eternal companions from now on. If the water was already spilled, it was better to think positively than to hate them and shake his own mind for no reason.
Of course, that did not mean he intended to worship Outer Gods and bow his head to them. As much as they desired him, Ian merely used and acknowledged them as companions.
A relationship built on one-sided worship was not safe.
“I serve no god.”
Ian answered as he straightened his disheveled coat.
“I have no intention of living while lowering my head in humiliation like you people.”
“…….”
“And…… this is a personal question, but why do you prostrate yourself so desperately before a god? Isn’t it better to make the god cling to you?”
It was something Ian, beloved by Outer Gods, could say. The captain, who had offered up most of his body to an Outer God in order to gain power, could not refute his words at all. Instead, he twisted his face and clenched his fist tightly.
“How dare you……! You dare lecture me on faith!”
His sharp nails tore into his palm, but he paid it no mind and glared.
Compared to the way he had been begging for his life just moments ago, it was far too abrupt a change in nerves. He had likely already left the human species behind, and with the battle piled on top of that, he was gradually losing his reason. It was the expected sequence of events.
There was no need to drag the situation out. Ian took an eyeball from his pocket, captured the captain in its pupil, and crushed it as it was.
Crunch!
With a horrific sound, the captain’s eye shattered. Clear vitreous fluid and blood streamed down his cheek.
“Aaaaaaah!!”
The captain screamed and thrashed his arms and legs wildly. Long, sharp tentacles. But not a single one could pierce the wall of water that had risen around Ian, and all were torn apart.
“What a shame.”
Ian put his last remaining cigarette in his mouth, lit it, and walked forward. Along the path he took, the seawater parted to the sides as if opening a way for him. The eggs floating here and there cracked apart, and red eyes popped out.
The eyes stared directly at Ian in unison for a moment, then split their pupils vertically and bared teeth between them.
Then they began to mutter in an unknown language.
[It is Father.]
[The Great One’s only companion. Beloved.]
[A frail life chosen by the Mother of All Things.]
[And therefore beautiful and fleeting.]
The interpretation happened automatically. He could not understand it with his ears, but he understood it in his head. Ian stared at them as they gaped obscenely, 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 the slightest resistance.
“Upon the territory of the Great One, in His name I command. Water, become a spear.”
The moment he recited the incantation, the barrier compressed and transformed into something like a transparent spear.
A wavering water spear. Ian’s vision spun for an instant, but he held on to his mind and closed the grimoire.
“Fire.”
The instant he uttered the word, the spear rotated like a drill and pierced the captain’s abdomen.
Kwaaaaaaah!!
Blood and organs scattered in every direction, and his severed lower half sank gurgling into the black Outer Sea.
The water was not very deep, but his lower half vanished as if it had been buried in the depths of the ocean.
“……Hoo.”
Ian steadied his breathing for a moment and pressed a hand to his head.
A special spell usable only at sea. Since it had a condition attached, he had thought the cost would not be very high, but perhaps because its power was great, even though he had used it only twice, he felt a headache as if an awl were stabbing into his skull. It was obvious that if he used it one more time, he would pass out on the spot.
‘High risk, high return, is it? Overall, most of these spells are like that…….’
Ian exhaled slowly and rubbed the corners of his eyes.
A few strands of tongue that had fallen to the floor crawled up his thigh. Ian swung the grimoire like a flyswatter and brushed them away, then crouched in front of the captain, who was left with only his upper body, and blew out a long stream of cigarette smoke.
The pale smoke rose into the air and scattered.
Ian tapped off the ash from his cigarette and slowly opened his mouth.
“Who is the provider of the Mystery? What is the structure of the cult you belong to?”
“…….”
The captain did not answer. No, he could not answer.
Unfortunately, the captain did not possess regenerative abilities strong enough to heal a fatal wound. He could heal something like a bullet hole in his head, but there was nothing he could do about his entire lower body being torn away.
The same went for his organs, ripped to shreds.
His lungs were half gone. In that state, let alone breathing, even making a voice was impossible.
There would be nothing gained by holding on and waiting for a bastard who could not even regenerate.
“Your regeneration is far worse than that Vatican nun’s…….”
Ian let out a deep sigh and placed his hand on the captain’s limp head.
He changed grimoires and recited an incantation. When he uttered the familiar sentence, the captain’s body became a small cube and fell to the floor.
He considered taking it, but did not bother. No matter if it was an Outer God from a story, the man had been within its sphere of influence. There was no need to do something that might stir up trouble for no reason.
“Ugh…….”
The battle had ended more blandly than expected, but even so, the fatigue accumulated in his body was quite severe. Perhaps because he had fired off spells in rapid succession, his head throbbed as though it had a heart of its own, and there was not much strength in his legs.
Still, he could move. Ian slapped his trembling thighs, stroked the grimoire in his hand, and left the wheelhouse.
“You did well.”
[Wooong!]
The grimoire vibrated as if to say it had been nothing. Ian, too, let out a faint laugh.
There was now almost no water left that had overflowed outside the wheelhouse. The seawater that had turned into the Outer Sea had long since vanished, and the writhing worms were nowhere to be seen either.
They had probably disappeared along with the captain’s death. It was a pity he could not make them into materials, but this much was enough.
[Ha! The monsters are gone! Brothers! This ship is ours now! After we deal with these damned ghosts, let’s take it over completely!]
A pirate who had poked his head out from beyond the corner shouted, thrusting forward a sword caked with blood. Ian, who happened to be in the man’s blind spot, placed a hand on the back of the pirate’s head and used magic.
“Be born anew.”
[Oook!]
The pirate became the thing that had been a pirate. Ian familiarly put the sphere into his bag and loosened his stiff wrist.
‘I killed the captain, but there’s no change in the situation. Looks like it’ll all end only once I kill the thing in the sea.’
He had expected as much to some degree, so he was not surprised. Instead, he was a bit tired.
It seemed that once he finished this job, it would be best to rest for a while. Rather than pushing himself for no reason, it was better to maintain peak condition at all times.
Thinking that, Ian slowly moved his feet.