Descent into the Depths: The Divine Armor's Verdict
The submarine Mariner Noah Nautilus sank beneath the waves, pressing onward. No light sources inside, yet light streamed in naturally—and from outside, it had looked utterly empty, but now the entire exterior was visible within. Was this the helm? After locking the pirates back in the prison-like lower decks, we sailors gathered, marveling endlessly at the seascape.
There was a steering wheel, and at its center, a circular device for handling something. Regrettably, none of us knew what that sleek pillar was. A panel that might hold a keyboard lay parallel, but it just looked like a smooth marble slab.
"Does it have an ego?" the captain asked Circe, awestruck by the unbelievable sight.
She nodded, confirming it did. I had to translate, but it was astonishing: this warship had a true ego.
After Circe summoned it, we'd arrived here from that distant storm-shrouded island in scarcely any time.
"In just over an hour? From that storm-ridden demon sea? Hell, it'd take our ship at least ten days!"
Impressed by the lost kingdom's technology, she slumped into a dust-covered chair for a rest. Outwardly pristine, as if still maintained, but dust and neglect were everywhere.
This massive 30-meter war-submarine had multiple rooms, including warehouses, but all were desolate. The warehouses held only enigmatic items that seemed somewhat preserved.
"...."
A toy carved from coral, its surface smooth from much handling. Everywhere touched by hands clearly held items precious to Circe—no fool would doubt it.
She hadn't fled the kingdom alone. Her parents, the royal family, must have loaded these cherished mementos aboard, buying her time against the elves as she escaped.
"Let's find another empty warehouse."
No one objected; we nodded and locked the doors to prevent intruders. The rune language was a hassle, but since no one else could read it, the sailors, Prince Castella, and Hyacinth followed me.
We found an empty one and stocked it temporarily. Painful not to salvage treasure from the sunken ship... but with so few dead, we were fortunate.
Our 60 sailors were down to barely 20. How many more would we lose ahead? I prayed none, but wishes rarely came true.
"....Incredible. No idea what material it's made of—not steel.... What metal gleams so purely white? And an ego-driven sub? Absurd."
"With this, we could reach Shin Tu Gap in a flash."
Back in the helm, the navigator gripped the wheel, pondering. Radar and coordinates displayed inside, all in runes—unreadable to us. Charts abounded, but useless deep-sea maps by Montagu standards.
"Amazing... five times larger than ours."
The captain rubbed the map, exclaiming. Even without island markers, it showed reefs, seafloor volcanoes, Montagu cities—priceless intel. Her eyes sparkled; Hornigold might trade his invincible fleet for it. She tossed me a compass.
"Sadly, the ship sank with our charts. Can you read maps?"
"Yes."
"Then navigate, reserve captain."
"Grrraaah!! So jealous, damn it...!"
I declined her offer of the captain's hat with a laugh. Kidd stomped, envious of me taking command from the old hag—though he couldn't help it. Hyacinth held the barely saved map marking Shin Tu Gap's location.
Puzzling how to align sea-floor and surface charts, Circe snatched it, slotted it into a cylindrical pillar's groove. Light scanned; a red dot appeared on the helm's deep-sea map.
......Advanced civilization's prowess left me speechless.
"Looks like my job's just nursing the captain now."
The navigator sat bitterly beside her; she patted his shoulder, urging him not to feel down since everyone struggled.
Ship position, destination, shortest path, ETA—all displayed. A vessel crafted by sea-dwellers for ocean travel? As the king's own, no performance would surprise now.
"ᚺᚢᛋᛒᚨᚾᛞ, ᚺᛖᚱᛖ"
Circe produced a black coat and captain's hat from who-knows-where, grinning. I declined the robe swap; Hyacinth stomped over, eyes narrowed in mild anger, yanking it off roughly.
"Stay still," he whispered, bundling the robe for my inventory with a nag. I opened it obediently; she threw the coat over as he forced me into a plush chair. Circe draped the robe over my shoulders.
"Uh... no need to wear it?"
"ᛏᚺᛖ ᛟᚾᛖ ᛟᚾ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛋᚺᛟᚢᛚᛞᛖᚱ ᛁᛋ ᛒᛖᛏᛏᛖᚱ"
She said shoulders were cooler. Hyacinth insisted a fluttering coat screamed cool, even if words failed. Circe nodded vigorously—were they communicating after all?
I tilted the black pirate hat and gripped the wheel.
"....Shall we go?"
"No presence for a man. Shout 'Cast off!' like a real captain to boost morale, Captain Radamu."
Even Mortis scolded, disappointed—do it right. Sailors lounged, staring up expectantly. Nautilus was vast, but rune-illiterate access was limited—centuries unused, kitchen bare save unlearnable dishes. I'd be their spectacle on this voyage.
"Haha..."
Deep breath, wheel in hand. Before us: vast ocean vista on screens. Fish schools swarmed, sea monsters swam aside. Below, coral forests like woodlands.
The unknown world's allure erased my worries, if briefly.
"Then, let's go."
We surged toward the farthest island at max speed. Wheel-gripping was pointless; Circe later explained its ego handled destination autonomously. Why hold it an hour? "You looked cool," she said—subtly pressuring the outfit.
"This is insanely dope."
A vast training hall inside, water drained by Circe. Kidd wildly brandished a bone-white harpoon. Weapons stored for soldiers.
"Hmph, I wield no sword but my magic blade."
"Ah, true, Aran breed...."
No guns for Hyacinth. He mimed harpoon guns or water-only firearms, but like Castella rejecting all but his, he passed. Thrilled with a new harpoon, Bartholomew brawled to kill time.
"Royal vessel, huh? Tech's insane... Can't fathom our regression. Lost to elves at sea with this?"
Treated in the infirmary via rune magic, recovering Zan thanked Circe. Awed by sea-dominating kingdom's fusion of tech and magic, yet horrified they'd fallen to elves at sea, she collapsed, dizzy and weak.
"Still, elves are declining too. One elf... we might beat."
Mortis comforted her. World Tree gone, elves weakened—Trust Union's were worlds apart. They'd avoid elves if possible, but pursuing the Pirate King meant clashing with elf hunters.
"....No way, that's a lie, right?"
Even at top speed, it took a day to cross the sea. I dozed briefly, mistaking arrival for days unconscious. Sleepy, dragged out by Circe grabbing my arm.
Bow gaped open; we exited onto land. Separate sea-entry normally; land-dwellers forced submersible ashore.
"This is..."
Captain Igloo's—pirate king and hero's—final island. A true golden isle. Azure skies, crystal seas. Solely blessed, black thunderclouds ringed it, lightning storms raging afar. Utterly isolated dimension.
"......Unreal."
Tropical fruits unknown abounded, life teeming. Tree spirits frolicked. Exposed rocks? Neglected mithril veins, massive ores embedded like pebbles.
God-crafted freakish beauty, resources piled in one spot.
"All exploration traces?"
Ruins overgrown, shapes vague. Baskets with pickaxes, tattered cloth. Humans visited, half-mined veins proving desperate scavenging.
"Orihalcon, dude!"
Kidd gawked, rubbing veins. Mithril, orihalcon, nameless metals strewn like rocks. Hero ditching cargo wasn't joke.
Circe chunked ores; I inventory-stuffed for Larirarion's gift.
──Island center: weathered tools, ship-repair materials. Spares dumped—heavy oars? Kidd freaked lifting iron rod.
Stripped bare, hauling to save one more life.
"This is...."
Treasure chests crumbled, but within gleamed a pristine white monolith, holy aura manifesting visibly.
Tombstone-thick, armor-like engravings—but unwearable shape. Undeniably Shin Tu Gap.
I swallowed, approached, hand extended. Mortis trusted hero-handling; Hyacinth eyed legendary sight, notebook ready. All watched tensely—as my hand touched—
"『Hmm, you look boring. Disqualified.』"
Thud—monolith settled silently. Heavy quiet fell.
Kidd, Castella prodded—no reaction. Hyacinth, Mortis poked confusedly—nothing.
"....Huh?"
The 6th hero incredulously slapped it—dead stone, fire extinguished, mercilessly unresponsive.