Chapter 524
Chapter 524
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 524
Chapter Title: Witch of the Deep Sea (4)
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1.
Three steps ahead on the ascent to the upper level, Lurue spoke in a voice brimming with truly regal dignity.
Though for such queenly poise, the content sounded more like a mentor addressing a new recruit.
"How has a day on the job treated you?"
"Thus far, there have been no difficulties, Your Majesty."
At most, he'd received orders to clean diligently and had polished the corridors.
Even that much, he'd sought out the work himself.
He didn't think things had progressed to this point already...
"Have you heard the precautions?"
"Regrettably, I have not, Your Majesty."
Lurue chattered on as if unconcerned by such trifles.
"The lower engine room, accessible by ladder, houses the reactor and mana furnace—absolutely do not enter. Nor must you touch the external control consoles."
"I shall keep that in mind."
"As you may have surmised, Akula—my workshop and kingdom—is a romantic super-gigantic submarine of unprecedented scale. Length 172 meters, beam 23 meters. Do you know the submerged displacement? A whopping 48,000 tons. 48,000 tons!"
Her voice rang with tremendous excitement.
Should he play along a little?
"N-No way! A submarine this massive exists?! This humble servant has never even heard of such a thing!"
The back of Lurue's head, adorned with a small tiara like a crown, halted abruptly.
She whipped around.
Was that expression conveying 'You're the first to react like this!' mere imagination?
She spoke deliberately, word by word, scrutinizing Siwoo's reaction.
"As I mentioned earlier, it employs a modified OK-650 pressurized water reactor as its power source."
"No... you mean it's a nuclear submarine?"
He even added a jaw-dropping reaction, as if stunned by an unbelievable fact, and Lurue's shoulders quivered with what seemed like rapturous delight.
"'Tis nothing extraordinary. To power a submarine force of this magnitude smoothly, a reactor is indispensable."
"I can't believe it... Unthinkable."
"Designed for 160 crew originally, yet through system automation, a mere 25 elite souls under my command suffice to operate her."
"To crew such a colossal submarine with but 25...! To serve as a slave in so splendid a kingdom—Your Majesty's boundless grace bows my head in awe."
Praise makes even whales dance, or so they say.
Lurue's face lit up with satisfaction, eyes aglow, as if all prior resentment had vanished.
"This won't do. I must boast of—no, properly introduce—Akula to you. Follow."
"An honor!"
And so the submarine tour commenced.
He'd roughly gauged the insane scale peeking during the funeral, but his jaw still dropped all the same.
Not quite Gehenna's refined interiors, yet far from humble—the profusion of ornately appointed rooms.
If the corridors he'd mopped prioritized raw function over comfort, the upper decks—her living quarters, evidently—bristled with luxuries no true submarine should possess.
Lurue strode ahead, extolling her kingdom like an overeager realtor.
First came a long table ringed by shelves of liquor bottles stacked like battlements.
Perhaps the 'bar' motif, but despite dated design and lighting, a profound classic allure permeated the space.
"One of the kingdom's prides: Malt Vainira. Rare whiskies lost to time, all gathered here."
Yet under the handsome lighting, the displayed bottles verged on museum pieces—labels archaic, many scarred and clouded to opacity.
Antiques, through and through.
"This place is incredible too! Every bottle a legendary vintage, it seems!"
"Spare me the flattery."
"Understood."
Too obvious, perhaps?
Lurue dismissed the obsequious praise with a stern look.
As he fidgeted, wondering if he'd erred, she continued.
"Every bottle here was salvaged from shipwrecks. Liquor demands strict storage, yet ocean pressure and temperate depths aged them to perfection."
She ducked behind the bar, retrieving bottles one by one.
Frankly, by shape and state alone, they resembled repurposed soy sauce jars...
"This: 120-year cognac. This: 140-year liqueur. And this... whiskey from the Titanic—you may know it."
Only then did Siwoo grasp the bar's true worth.
Not mere old spirits, but irreplaceable cognacs and whiskies steeped in history.
"Oh..."
At last, genuine awe seemed to satisfy her.
"A wise sovereign shuns honeyed words. Abandon shallow plaudits meant to please me.
Even sans your hype, my grandeur shall wring true admiration from your lips."
For all her words, she'd beamed at shallow praise moments ago—but no matter.
Lately stuck with vile wines from scant grapes, his curiosity burned for that Titanic whiskey's taste.
Alas, no sampling.
Lurue hastily reshelved them and pressed onward.
"This is the kingdom's central bath. Believable? A bath in a submarine."
The humid air suddenly made sense.
"Here I soothe my form and contemplate righteous governance."
The bath itself was nothing special.
Spotless, sure, but paling beside even the twins' tub—no need to invoke Revana's grand baths.
Yet the adjoining sauna delivered a genuine culture shock.
He'd assumed submarines demanded spartan asceticism.
Magic's doing? Or baseline tech this advanced? Hard to say.
She guided him through theater, rec room, a library stocked with tens of thousands of grimoires, dining hall, and more.
Facilities vast enough to cram a whole shopping arcade aboard.
"Finally, behold your duty."
The tour's finale appeared to be this massive wooden door, the most elaborately adorned yet.
As Lurue neared, it parted automatically.
Beyond loomed her bedroom: grander, higher-ceilinged than any room spied thus far.
"......"
No room for 'Bedroom, out of nowhere?'
Ceiling and walls mirrored an inky cosmic void.
Siwoo clocked it as the deep sea's vista.
Lightless, impenetrable murk—perhaps the abyss truly mirrored outer space.
Deeper here, but nearer the sunlit surface? Fantastical seascapes, surely.
"Beautiful, aye? Special alloy renders the exterior flawless from within. Regardless, not our destination—press on."
Not the bedroom proper; she bustled past colossal bed and opulent furnishings to an adjoining chamber.
"Here lies my most cherished treasure."
Her voice dropped low as she eased the door open.
Blinding radiance spilled forth; ceiling to floor gleamed with pristine white tile.
And amidships, piled mountain-high...
"Your charge: appraise these treasures' worth."
Junk.
Junk incarnate.
Ancient machinery aside, wrinkled rags of indeterminate origin, pottery, half-charred high-tech fragments.
Porcelain, washing machines, crates of raw metal, and sundry others.
Even unstated, Siwoo knew their provenance.
The ocean floor, naturally.
Yet not left as dredged: immaculately cleaned and dried.
"One hobby of mine: salvaging sea-buried gems. All here amassed thusly. Yet modern knowledge eludes me. From tomorrow, report here: evaluate, sort, catalog."
Frankly, after her rattling off submarine specs, her 'scant modern knowledge' strained belief.
"Then... alongside cleaning duties?"
Growing accustomed to the archaic tongue, she flicked her hand dismissively.
"No need. Akula maintains hygiene autonomously. Note the pristine air? This eclipses cleaning—a weighty task. Proceed with utmost care."
"I shall obey."
Thus, in a single day, Siwoo's role ascended from corridor scrubber to warehouse curator.