The Mystery of [Nautilus]
Mystery was incredibly important to mages. It was possible to use magic with just mana and spells, but the truly remarkable feats worthy of being called real magic required acquiring a mystery. While mystery boosted the efficiency of magic, its greater value lay in adding effects that spells alone couldn't achieve.
For example, igniting a flame with magic was simple. Flame mana could spark fire in empty space once it exceeded critical density, or other mana could be shaped into spells to raise temperatures past the ignition point. Alternatively, mana could be transformed into combustible material to serve as fuel. Countless senior mages had researched and documented what phenomena arose from manipulating specific mana with certain formulas, allowing junior mages to replicate the same results by following those papers.
The realm of mana and spells operated like science, governed by laws and reason. But add a mystery, and everything changed. In Lucy's case, who possessed the mystery of warm fire, the same spell heated the surrounding air far more efficiently than the flame's own thermal output. Conversely, Terramit, with the mystery of fire that consumes all, produced flames that spread and incinerate rapidly.
Even in such a basic spell for creating fire, the differences were stark—and as spells grew more complex and mysteries evolved, those changes became even more profound. The Sage's Cauldron Mage Tower had plenty of mages with mysteries, each excelling in fields tied to theirs. A crafting mage senior with the mystery of unyielding stone not only carved magical tools from rock with tools but could knead granite like clay using mana; the stone artifacts he made lasted longer and were sturdier.
Meanwhile, a senior with the mystery of sprouting bone could grow new bone forms from bone dust, blending various species' bones into optimized shapes and combinations for desired magical tools. There were others too—like one who manipulated living plants with a plant mystery to form chairs, or a senior with the weed mystery who stayed full and healthy just by eating weeds.
But not every mage got the mystery they wanted. That weed senior had craved the mystery of gold, hoarding it while skimping on food—until hunger drove him to wish for weeds in a field, granting him his current mystery instead. Not everyone ended up with their dream.
So what if you had a specific mystery in mind? Mages solved this with catalysts and mediums. To borrow a goblin's [Greed] mystery, they'd use a goblin finger bone as a catalyst for spells finding valuables (usually things goblins prized, like tree fruits or rotting animal carcasses). A mage with the [Gold] mystery might detach and imbue it into a gold coin (which the weed senior was tracking from an auction ten years ago). Or Suhyun's Peerless Heaven's Will Rod, made using sandworm and desert mysteries.
Using items infused with mysteries let you borrow them. They couldn't grow or were hard to wield, but the possibility mattered. That's why the [Nautilus] mystery was crucial. If accessing [Nautilus] via its mystery allowed embedding it into tools, Suhyun could more easily train sailors to pilot it than his current plans.
Arriving where Narka waited, Suhyun was a bit flustered to see her naked. Starved, soaked, and chilled to the point of collapse—yet holding on with mana for optimal mystery contact—Suhyun asked one of the few female rehab squad members nearby.
"Why's she not wearing clothes?"
The woman, who'd tried dressing Narka only to be bound by rehab rules from her refusal, avoided Suhyun's seemingly scolding gaze.
"You said to wait without doing anything, so that's what we're doing."
Suhyun sighed at the awkwardly towel-clad squad member and Narka beaming like a golden retriever greeting its owner.
"As long as it doesn't hinder movement, put some clothes on first."
"Yes!"
No sooner had Suhyun spoken than Narka snatched the towel, dried off swiftly, and dressed. Her eyes brimmed with joy and ecstasy.
'Well, she's at that blissful age.'
Acquiring a mystery as a mage was like a blind man gaining sight. In hunter terms, awakening a power; in games, job-changing. Seeing Narka's reaction—dog ears and tail practically visible—Suhyun recalled her file.
While piloting Nautilus, he'd read reports on the bridge computer, including Narka's. She'd shown unparalleled magical talent at school, completing nearly all prepared courses. Devouring the magic curriculum—roughly three years elementary, three intermediate, three advanced, three university—in six months wasn't just smarts; it took effort.
Mana's effects on the body varied wildly. Some gained superhuman strength to wrestle cows barehanded; others developed brains for perfect recall and rapid insight, turning one idea into two, five, or six. But it birthed madmen too—killer stars from wuxia who needed to slaughter eye-catchers to calm down, or folks fattening on water via mana photosynthesis.
Wondering if Narka had some special constitution, Suhyun examined her mind and soul—and was shocked. Among villains he'd faced, it matched the headache-inducing type: fanatic.
Low self-emotion, no empathy, no narcissism—viewing all as worthless psychopaths, yet hyper-dependent, obsessing over one thing. They'd inflict a thousand harms on the world for one gain to their idol, no hesitation.
Suhyun had met two: a saintly priest and a mad fanatic. The priest endured grueling asceticism without complaint, healing with divine power to earn stigmata and sainthood. But working with him revealed his instability—he depended on the Goddess of Healing and Life, treating people because she willed it.
Even priests felt different treating hurt kids versus injured criminals holding child hostages for healing. Yet the saint felt identical emotions for both. Dependent on his goddess, he'd stayed functional; the war fanatic, devoted to the God of War and Victory, incited civil war to offer triumphs.
Claiming mutual sole understanding as "comprehenders," they'd kill each other for their gods. It had shocked Suhyun. And now, a child with the same mind and soul stood before him.
'She clearly latched onto me as her dependency target. What now?'
If Suhyun said he didn't need her, her reaction was unpredictable. Only then did he realize why she stayed sane amid Nautilus's info flood: already "mad," but anchored by a dependency, these types showed immense mental fortitude. Recalling the saint treating others despite losing his lower body, Suhyun restored Narka's condition.
With a body-warming spell and his go-to sandwich for hunger pangs, Narka gazed at him in.
Overreacting to one spell and sandwich, Suhyun felt burdened but took her to the bridge.
Modeled after massive Earth starships, Nautilus's bridge was emptier than expected. Save the central elevated captain's chair overlooking all and the holographic projection magical tool, it was starkly barren—clean to the point of desolation.
Normally bustling like a starship bridge, they lacked trained crew; time was too short to raise them. Finally, Suhyun introduced the bridge to his first crew candidate.
"This is Nautilus's bridge—your workplace from now on."
"It's truly an honor, Suhyun!"
Grinning uncontrollably with joy, Narka drew a wry smile from Suhyun.
'Fine, at least I've gained a competent, utterly loyal subordinate.'
Suhyun shaped biometal into a helm seat before the captain's chair. No wheel—just a forward-facing seat—but it didn't matter. Piloting Nautilus wasn't about turning wheels or shifting gears; it required linking and controlling via the mystery.
Cars advanced on pedals regardless of road, spinning idly in mud. Nautilus differed. Real-time geology analysis adjusted fluidity spells' output; weight assessments tuned buoyancy. Its massive size demanded varied tweaks for fluidity and lift. Stabilizing interference from buried objects while propelling forward meant pilots needed magic training.
Nautilus's deep learning helped, but Suhyun couldn't fully detach—he stayed glued to the captain's chair during movement. Someone lesser-skilled would let him rest every other day.
"Wanna try piloting?"
"Is that okay?"
"I'm right behind you—even if issues arise."
"Understood."
Sitting seriously, Narka closed her eyes, focusing on her [Nautilus] mystery. Deepening the link, she filtered Nautilus's data flood to essentials for navigation.
Sensors flooded her with geology and mana info. The current stratum: shale above Nautilus, slate below. High fluidity output liquefied shale, risking collapse—keep low. Low on slate stalled flow—ramp up.
Initially clumsy, she overpowered shale, nearly collapsing the ceiling, and underdid slate, scraping hull—but Suhyun corrected preemptively.
"You're doing great. Take it slow, stay calm."
Joy at Suhyun's guidance and eagerness to help fueled Narka's rapid learning. Real-time data sharing bypassed records; her sharp mind accelerated further via borrowed processing and memory. Devoting all to judgment, she felt like part of Nautilus.
Gradually reducing Suhyun's fixes, she soon solo-piloted, beaming—not from achievement, but aiding him. Ecstatic, she strengthened the bond.
Sensors mapped geology, detected obstacles, rerouted, boosted fluidity. Riding subterranean ley lines for mana absorption, Narka felt she was Nautilus. Deepening fusion until one...
"Wake up!"
"Hah!"
Suhyun yanked her mind from near-merger; Narka exhaled held breath unwittingly.
"Too much talent's a problem too."
Over-immersed in her new mystery, nearly consumed, Narka gloomily replied to Suhyun's wake-up.
"Sorry."
"No need—mentors handle this."
Confirming her mind again, Suhyun stroked her head.
"Don't overindulge. You're the master—remember that."
To Narka, being devoured was fine—but Suhyun's advice? She'd obey eternally, savoring his petting hand.