Chapter 522
Chapter 522
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 522
Chapter Title: Deep Sea Witch (2)
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1.
No, Lurye didn't even register it as a fight.
She hadn't fully completed the 'trial' to master her stigma yet, but her opponent was just a half-baked pretender playing at being a witch.
No matter how bizarre the armor she wore or how she pulled out strange ribbons to show off her tricks, the gap between them was vast.
The tsunami Lurye unleashed was a shield, a flail, and an overwhelming catastrophe that swept away every last trick.
The whole subjugation took a mere 30 seconds.
"Foreign Minister Rakenraken..."
Lurye walked over to where the kraken had vanished and swept her hand across the ground.
Its massive body had crumbled, but a thick, viscous slime still remained.
Having left behind this sticky, disgusting fluid, Rakenraken was truly dead.
Depressing.
Infuriating.
Honestly, unlike Levina Ringbakkur, its ugly appearance hadn't exactly endeared it to Lurye.
That was the same reason she'd gifted the fish tank to the progenitor witch demanding fulfillment of the pact without a second thought.
Yet this kraken had faithfully served as Nukelavi's servant for over a thousand years.
Because she'd handed over the tank so carelessly, it had met its end at the hands of clueless riffraff.
A few scant memories with Rakenraken flashed through Lurye's mind.
The time it turned its body into a slide for the crew to ride like a sled.
The time she'd let it loose in the sea after so long, and it charged at the Akula in excitement, nearly capsizing the port side and flooding the torpedo room.
The time it devastated the whale graveyard Lurye cherished.
And...
"......"
There weren't many memories like that, but that wasn't the point anyway.
"I shall hold a grand state funeral to console your spirit, erect a monument inscribed with your heroic tales in the deepest sea, and compose a military march honoring your valiant final battle for the crew to sing."
Lurye teared up as she mourned the kraken, then abruptly stood.
Guilt took a backseat to rage.
Not content with brutally assassinating the great Akula Kingdom's Foreign Minister, one of the culprits had even escaped.
-Splash!
Lurye grabbed the hem of the man's pants floating limply at her feet and hauled him up.
A frail man who'd passed out after one wave battered him.
"These are the end times. A male witch, of all things."
When she'd first heard the rumors, she'd thought it was just another con artist, but the guy had some real skill.
Especially that instant teleport on the woman—she'd been so shocked she'd just stared blankly.
"...Hmm..."
Lurye examined the man's face, limp and waterlogged like seaweed.
"Not bad-looking."
In truth, the only men Lurye had ever seen were old black-and-white movie actors.
This was her first time seeing a male up close, aside from her neutered servant crew—mermen, technically.
Lurye pondered for a long while whether to let him keep breathing or not.
Still, he was a rare specimen.
Handled right, he might prove useful somewhere.
Lurye bundled the man up and returned to the Akula.
2.
"Ugh..."
A splitting headache, like his skull was cracking open.
He opened his eyes, feeling the throbbing pain from abnormally high intracranial pressure.
"Blech...!"
A fit of coughing brought up a mouthful of brine that flowed right back into his nostrils.
After several rounds, pain like bruises radiated through his whole body.
He waited for it to subside, then surveyed his surroundings.
One thing was clear, at least.
He was hanging upside down like a fish drying on a line. No wonder his head hurt so much.
"Where the hell is this...?"
With his inverted vision and the darkness, it was hard to make out at first, but as his eyes adjusted, he could examine the interior.
A dim room about 5 pyeong in size.
Worn protruding pipes in every corner and rotary valves embedded everywhere made the usable space feel terribly cramped.
Beside a battered iron door with a small glass window, a three-tier bunk bed with a skeletal frame was crammed in, and a half-open cabinet revealed its barren insides.
Nothing else stood out, but Siwoo naturally thought of "barracks."
Stretching it a bit, it resembled a cabin for naval personnel aboard ship.
One with considerable age to it, at that.
"......"
Time to assess the situation.
Why was he here? He backtracked through his memories.
He and Deneb had fought the kraken inside the fish tank and repelled it.
Then he'd come face-to-face with the enraged Deep Sea Witch.
Siwoo had gotten Deneb out first, then confronted the witch—and lost miserably.
His last memory was a house-sized wave slamming into him without warning.
So yeah, he'd been captured and imprisoned.
He didn't know much about the Deep Sea Witch's temperament.
All he knew was that Paola Sochitli had caused chaos in downtown Seoul using her relic, the 'Flute of Dagon.'
"...They didn't do a damn thing to me."
He soon realized there were no real restraints on him.
Just a flimsy chain around his ankle.
The tiny bit of mana left in him responded to his will.
Judging by the mana flows visible in his left eye, the whole structure was reinforced with magic.
Expecting some kind of seal or measure on him, this lax setup threw him off.
She'd seen him use magic plain as day, yet this was her idea of confinement?
-Clank!
He shaped a dagger from shadow, snapped the thick chain, and landed lightly with a roll.
His joints still ached, but now wasn't the time to be picky about hot meals or cold.
He pressed against the door and peered out the narrow window.
His guess that it was aboard a ship looked spot-on.
It resembled the container ship's corridor he'd prowled during his fight with Bianca.
After observing for a while, Siwoo cautiously opened the door and stepped out.
He'd been ready to unlock it with shadow if needed, but it wasn't even locked.
"......"
Lax enough that he half-suspected they were luring him to escape.
His heart pounded like he'd been thrust into a stealth mission out of nowhere.
His parched throat—thanks to the seawater—swallowed dryly.
Not that it mattered much, but he slipped into the corridor as quietly as possible.
The full scene came into view, invisible through the tiny window before.
One word summed it up.
Submarine corridor.
Dense with unidentified machinery protruding from ceiling to walkway to maximize the cramped space.
The passage stretched long but was narrow, with a low ceiling, giving a totally sealed feel.
Clusters of tentacles snaking to engine sections supplied mana, accompanied by intermittent hisses of steam and bubbling like boiling froth.
"A submarine out of nowhere..."
Suddenly the lax security made a bit more sense.
If this really was a submarine, it'd be the world's most escape-proof prison.
"Pierce."
Risking some strain on his body, he repeatedly amplified his mana.
Shadow armor enveloped him fully.
-Whirr...
The moment he donned the armor, the corridor stirred.
Not physically.
Like a digestive tract secreting acid upon receiving food, the pipes began drawing in mana.
The shadow woven into armor dissolved into mana and got sucked away.
The armor tore off in an instant.
The pipes, having greedily siphoned his mana, resumed their quiet hum as if nothing happened.
Siwoo broke out in cold sweat, glancing left and right.
"Of course they have countermeasures..."
They overlooked magnetized mana in his body or small knives, but anything bigger triggered 'digestion' without mercy.
Even with repeated amplification, Siwoo couldn't maintain armor under these conditions.
"Hoo..."
He wiped the tension sweat from his brow with his hand.
At this point, they probably had his every move tracked.
It didn't feel like any ordinary submarine.
Staying cooped up in that cell wouldn't yield any bright ideas anyway.
Since they hadn't killed him or bound him properly, they likely weren't planning immediate harm.
Best to gather as much intel as possible while he could move freely.
He followed the dimly glowing lights down the corridor.
Most were cabins like his, and there were plenty of them.
Midway, a hatch led downward with a ladder; elsewhere, rooms packed with incomprehensible machinery.
Spaces filled only with steel plates, valves, pipes, lights, and machines turned luxurious after climbing two bends of iron stairs.
A spacious hall with plush carpet and crimson halogen lamps greeted him.
A chandelier even hung there, mismatched as it was.
Luxurious enough to pass for an old movie's luxury liner, not a submarine.
-...... ...... ......
Areas divided by antique wooden walls and the welcoming hall.
One buzzed with murmurs.
Siwoo hastily flattened against the wall, holding his breath.
Through the slightly ajar door, he glimpsed the scene inside.
It resembled an old hotel lounge at a glance, where the Deep Sea Witch and about 30 half-fish, half-human monsters wore military uniforms.
Siwoo, no military buff, still recognized them as Soviet-era.
"Today, we lost our most loyal minister, Rakenraken. He was the most honorable of all, serving the kingdom dutifully without fail."
"Uoo... Uoo... Sob sob..."
"Wahhh..."
"For... Foreign... Minister..."
Rakenraken?
Was that the kraken's name?
The ridiculous naming sense left him dumbfounded.
Whatever was happening inside seemed like a funeral.
"......"
Honestly, just from the scene, he couldn't be sure.
What was this Foreign Minister business?
"To honor his devotion and sacrifice, we shall place a monument inscribed with his merits in the deepest trench."
"Ahh... So... Merciful... Your Majesty Lurye... Long live...!"
"We shall also compose a marching song to recall his bravery."
"Ooh, even your... Heart is... Beautiful... Your Majesty Lurye... Long live...!"
"And fire a salute."
"......"
"Didn't you hear? We'll fire a salute too."
"......"
The solemn funeral atmosphere chilled into silence at "salute."
The mermen grew flustered.
Seeing their panic, the Deep Sea Witch raised her voice in reprimand.
"We shall fire a salute! Dare you defy my command, equal to the sea itself?!"
"Plea... Please have mercy... Your Majesty..."
"Nuc... Nuclear missiles... Aren't... Salutes... Your Majesty..."
"We still have... Torpedoes left..."
"Remem... Remember... His late Majesty's... Behest..."
"Silence! Then when the hell are we supposed to fire the SLBM?!"
"Kill... Us please... Your Majesty..."
The mermen prostrated en masse, pleading with the Deep Sea Witch.
"Ho?"
"Ah..."
As the obstructing mermen heads lowered, Siwoo—audience to the farce—and the Deep Sea Witch's eyes met precisely.
By all rights, a spine-chilling situation...
But somehow, he just dripped with sweat.