Chapter 569: Request for Help (2)
In response to the seemingly out-of-context request to confront a sea monster, Merlin looked calmly at Oliver instead of showing surprise. It was as if he already knew everything. Perhaps this was to be expected—Merlin was, after all, an Archive with a thousand years of knowledge accumulated within him.
As if foreseeing Merlin’s attitude, Oliver naturally began to briefly recount the events in Gallos. He mentioned searching for the Flesh Chef’s Legacy, being invited along the way, then facing an ambush by Pan that led to Jane being taken right in front of him.
Merlin listened without a word or visible reaction, remaining silent until Oliver finished speaking before finally responding.
“Are you planning to go after her? This girl named Jane?”
“Yes, she’s my friend… which is why I seek your assistance, sir. I’ll try to find a way to Neverland, but facing that massive reptile… the sea monster summoned by Pan—I’m afraid it may prove too much.”
Oliver pulled a newspaper from his pocket and respectfully handed it to Merlin. It was the Gallos newspaper he’d read before attending the party, carrying an article about a gigantic sea monster that had recently appeared in the Atlantic, attacking merchant ships.
The newspaper included various speculations, from claims that it was the reappearance of a once-vanished sea monster to suspicions of it being a staged event by those seeking to cash in on insurance claims.
Yet Oliver now understood what was real and what was not.
“I’ve read that article. There was a similar one in Randa too. Right next to a story about a beneficial giant rat cleansing the sewers… Are you certain that the creature you saw is the same as this sea monster?”
“Yes, though I lack concrete evidence, I am sure it’s the sea monster.”
Usually hesitant to assert anything, Oliver’s voice was confident this time—a direct result of the distinct sensation he’d felt when he encountered the reptilian creature’s arm.
Its overwhelming size, large enough to make giants seem dwarfish and to cast shadows across the earth, could only be described as monstrous—a term that failed to fully capture its true enormity. But it wasn’t just its size; in that instant, Oliver instinctively knew it was the sea monster.
The only problem was that it was a mere feeling. Fortunately, Merlin believed Oliver’s words.
“I suspected as much… So, Pan was responsible for creating the sea monster. Do you know why it suddenly reappeared after remaining dormant for decades?”
Oliver recalled events from the New World involving Pan and the Burnt One.
Pan had claimed to be a prince and had fought fiercely to defend his master, ultimately clashing with the Burnt One, who mocked him directly. Pan’s shadow had suffered at the hands of the Burnt One in that battle.
“…I don’t know for certain. There were incidents in the New World, but I can’t say if they are connected.”
“Hmm, well, fair enough… Though I must admit, I’m surprised. I never thought you’d be the one to ask for help.”
Merlin genuinely seemed taken aback.
And with good reason—though Oliver had sought advice in the past, he had never asked someone to fight in his stead. It simply wasn’t in his nature.
He wasn’t one to ask others to fight on his behalf over the strength of his opponent, victory or defeat, or life and death. If his opponent was powerful, Oliver would do his best to fight, and if he couldn’t win, he would calmly accept death with his trademark expressionless face.
Though it was impossible to predict what someone might do when faced with the absolute terror of death, Merlin was confident Oliver wouldn’t waver in such a situation.
Yet, if Oliver felt reluctant to face the sea monster, it could only mean one thing.
There was something out there that was even more disturbing and terrifying than death itself, something that Merlin couldn’t help but worry about.
Then, Oliver answered Merlin’s question.
“I was informed about the sea monster… It’s beyond my ability to handle.”
“…Who told you?”
“His Highness Armand.”
“The Deputy Archbishop of the Pater Church, as well as Gallos’s Chancellor, His Highness Armand?”
“Yes.”
“Ha… It seems you’ve broadened your network. He’s not an easy person to meet or talk to. But he’s trustworthy.”
Despite the thick barrier of magic that prevented Oliver from sensing Merlin’s emotions, Merlin’s response appeared genuine.
Oliver found reassurance in this fact. It meant his choice hadn’t been wrong.
“His Highness said the sea monster wreaked havoc in the Atlantic decades ago, causing severe damage that even affected global trade routes. In the aftermath, a culture of prayer emerged among some sailors.”
Recalling the sight from a passenger ship on the New Continent, Oliver continued.
Some sailors would light candles and pray to their Heavenly Father for protection from the sea monster.
The harsh conditions of the ocean combined with the sheer, indescribable size of the creature they faced made Oliver understand the sailors’ feelings, as they found themselves powerless to do anything but pray to a god. Besides…
“…I also heard it can manipulate water freely. It can create whirlpools, raise water columns, swim, and even cross spaces. Although some say these are just rumors, I believe they’re true.”
Oliver was confident. If not for spatial movement through water, there would be no other way to explain how that massive creature from the western sea had suddenly appeared in a lake.
Being able to perform advanced spells like spatial movement through water meant it could manipulate virtually anything through water—a thought that even Oliver found unfair.
A creature with such an absurdly massive body that could also control water freely…
“Of course, its sheer size alone is terrifying… They say it can swallow entire ships in a single gulp. That’s why it’s also called the Devouring Beast. It’s terrifying just to hear about.”
“I’ve heard that name before.”
“Considering its strength, size, and difficulty, I’m also scared. That’s why I ask for your help, sir. If I come across the sea monster while rescuing Jane in Neverland, I’d like your assistance in dealing with it.”
After hearing Oliver’s request, Merlin silently observed him, as if trying to determine his sincerity.
A moment later, Merlin nodded in understanding.
“Indeed, if your goal is rescue rather than defeat, that would be a better approach.”
“Yes… You’re the only person I know who could stand a chance against such a creature.”
“Ha! Did you hit your head in Gallos? You’re speaking rather sweetly.”
“I read Surviving at Work.”
Oliver joked, causing Merlin to burst into laughter once more.
“Hahaha! Now that you’ve lightened the mood, it’s hard to refuse. I’ll help you.”
“Thank you… and may I ask one more favor while I’m at it?”
“You’re getting bolder. What is it?”
“I’d like to reclaim the item you promised.”
…
Incredibly, Merlin not only granted Oliver’s sudden request for help but also agreed to return the item he’d promised.
After all, he had agreed to return it to Oliver from the start.
Merlin handed the item to Oliver through spatial magic, who then stored it in his Greedy Pouch after feeding it to the pouch. He also received another item—a distress flare, which, though seemingly ordinary, was infused with meticulously crafted magic formations and an immense amount of power.
Aside from its sheer magic content, the precision of the spatial coordinate spell within the flare was so intricate that Oliver couldn’t help but be impressed.
As expected from an item given by an Archive.
“When you need me, break that. I’ll come to assist you. I can’t be away from my work here for too long, after all.”
Merlin said he could come to Oliver’s aid, even in the middle of the sea, with ease.
Though such a statement defied all common sense, Oliver accepted it as perfectly natural.
“Yes, I understand. Thank you once again.”
After expressing his gratitude, Oliver turned and began to leave. Just as he was departing, Merlin called out to him.
“Oliver.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you really asking for help because the sea monster is too much to handle?”
Though it was a question already answered, Oliver paused briefly before turning back. His usual expressionless face betrayed a hint of something different, which Merlin sensed.
“…Yes, it’s extremely challenging and frightening.”
“I see.”
With that answer, Oliver continued on his way, and once he disappeared, Merlin sank into his chair, feeling a wave of fatigue as he recalled a past encounter with the sea monster.
Strictly speaking, it was a memory from the former Archive, his master, but the sea monster that had terrorized the Atlantic decades ago was a calamity to every chosen nation that utilized that sea. The kings, unable to bear the threat, had requested the previous Archive’s intervention.
The former Archive had granted their request.
Because of this, Merlin had some understanding of the sea monster’s form and power, even if he didn’t know its creator.
Therefore, it was wise for Oliver to ask for help in this instance.
The sea monster was a disaster, born of a demon’s caprice, or perhaps a carefully laid plan.
But Merlin was also curious. Was Oliver truly fearful of facing that monster, or did he have other reasons for seeking help?
As Merlin pondered, a verse from The Prophecy of the End drifted through his mind:
“…Tick-tock. The clock turns as a great hole appears at the world’s end. A black sun rises from the earth, a devouring beast stirs in the western sea, the false gatekeeper takes the key, and the wandering child becomes a boy…”
To Merlin’s surprise, the prophecy was progressing inexorably, unfolding with a patience both eerie and ruthless.
With this awareness came a realization: Oliver had sensed, perhaps partially, his own nature, yet he was attempting to turn away, to reject his fate.
Only after accepting this fully did Merlin murmur softly.
“Oh, Lord, watch over us…”
…
Beep. Beep. Beep.
In a makeshift underground workshop he had set up, Oliver, who had been resting with his eyes closed in one corner, rose in response to the alarm and immediately began working.
The task at hand was none other than repairing and creating some of the corpse puppets damaged during his battle with Pan. Before heading to Neverland, he needed to restore his combat strength.
Though it might have appeared leisurely given the urgency of his situation, Oliver deemed the work necessary since he now faced no limit on the number of corpse puppets he could use.
"I still have other needs to address as well."
Oliver glanced at two enormous glass cylinders filled with a blood solution. Each cylinder was large enough to fit an entire person and contained two different figures: Durance, a damaged corpse puppet missing half its torso, and the body of the Flesh Chef, a gift from Merlin.
Oliver had developed his own unique processing technique for creating and repairing corpse puppets, a fusion of blood magic, Theo's medical knowledge, and the life science principles of the Life Alchemy Department, all beginning with a book he’d obtained from Puppet.
His method went far beyond simple embalming and physical modifications, instead involving a complex chemical process. Fortunately, his work was progressing smoothly.
Of course, he did still employ the older methods here and there.
"First, how’s it going?"
“Smoothly.”
At one end of the workshop, First responded to Oliver’s inquiry. First was inside the corpse puppet, Bathory, controlling three other puppet assistants named Helper 1, Helper 2, and Helper 3—constructed from the corpses of a doctor, a dark mage, and a woodworker—to manufacture large quantities of corpse puppets on Oliver’s behalf.
These corpses, which Oliver had accumulated or purchased in bulk from the black market, were of considerable quality and quantity.
Given their quality, these corpses ideally would have been processed with Oliver’s own technique, rather than the traditional method, to ensure high-performing puppets. However, taking resources and time into account, Oliver decided to use the traditional process, a choice that proved wise.
With Bathory, and using the bodies of the doctor, the dark mage, and the woodworker, Helpers 1, 2, and 3 were able to mass-produce dozens of corpse puppets in a short time, as if they were factory-made.
This rapid production was great news.
Having the capability for quick manufacturing meant that Oliver could quickly restore his combat force even if he sustained heavy losses in his army of corpse puppets, a significant advantage for him individually and organizationally.
“Phew…”
While observing Bathory’s work, Oliver manipulated Ptah’s Assistant with ease, putting the finishing touches on his current project before pulling a lever on the machine connected to the cylindrical tanks. This drained a portion of the blood solution infused with vitality.
Gurgle… gurgle… gurgle…
The solution—a blend of potions, life force, and blood—bubbled and gradually lowered as air escaped.
Using Ptah’s Assistant, a mechanical arm crafted from magic, Oliver carefully moved the repaired corpse puppets, Durance and the Flesh Chef, from the glass cylinders to a workbench and checked the time.
“Hmm… First.”
“Yes.”
“Could you finish this up for me?”
Oliver pointed to Durance and the Flesh Chef, the two corpse puppets he had repaired and created. Though finishing the process only involved wiping off the blood solution, checking their condition, and testing functionality by infusing them with Second and Fourth, he knew it was a tedious task.
Though First was already near his limit on working hours, he agreed, noting Oliver’s current condition.
“Fine. But I expect overtime pay.”
Educated in employment practices by the House of Angels staff, First now spoke in smoother, more natural sentences, clearly expressing his expectations.
Appreciating the achievement, Oliver readily agreed, giving a nod before packing Duncan, a damaged corpse puppet with only its head, shoulders, and left arm intact, into a burlap sack and heading out of the temporary underground workshop.
As he stepped outside, Oliver was greeted by warm sunlight and the transformed surroundings of District X, now almost unrecognizable from its former state.
Gone were the dilapidated streets and crumbling sidewalks, the crumbling concrete structures, and alleys filled with graffiti and suspicious totems. Now, only a neatly arranged landscape akin to a middle-class neighborhood remained, bustling with energy.
“Hello, Mr. Dave.”
As Oliver made his way to the central area of District X toward the Woodcutter’s Forest, a man greeted him.
It was one of Smith’s employees, an apprentice under Ewan, and now a prominent figure in the large-scale dark magic workshop he managed in partnership with Forest.
In addition to him, members of the Fighter Crew, responsible for maintaining order, and several ordinary-looking civilians also greeted Oliver as he passed.
Receiving greetings from various people, Oliver crossed District X and entered the Woodcutter’s Forest.
The clean air and soil here were a welcome contrast, reminding him of nature’s purity even in the heart of the megacity of Randa. Finding a suitable spot, Oliver took out a shovel and began digging.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
After digging for a while, Oliver placed Duncan—the corpse puppet with only its head, shoulder, and arm remaining—into the hole and covered it with earth.
He had used it well for quite some time, and as it was now beyond further use, this burial seemed a fitting gesture.
“You should have called me earlier… I would have helped.”
As Oliver finished covering Duncan, a familiar voice spoke up behind him.
Turning, he saw Forest, along with Mari of the Chosen Ones and Jo from the Fighter Crew—the key members of the Redevelopment Coalition—standing nearby.
Looking at them, Oliver replied.
“I wanted to do it myself. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”