Chapter 750: Deep Sea Intelligence

Inside a special guest room of Cecil Palace.

The room’s layout was unusual—there was no ordinary bed or bedding. Instead, occupying the space where a bed would normally be was a large, partially sunken pool right in the center of the room. Beside the pool stood a large wooden barrel filled with fine, white granular material. Around this strange pool and barrel were the only normal furnishings: tables, chairs, and everyday items.

The odd arrangement gave the impression that someone had built a swimming pool inside a bedroom.

Betty, dressed in a black-and-white maid’s uniform, stood by the pool’s edge. In her hand was a long-handled wooden spoon, with which she scooped some of the white granules from the barrel and sprinkled them into the water, stirring gently.

Suddenly, ripples appeared on the pool’s surface—ripples that quickly grew larger, as if a sudden gust of wind had stirred the still air. Waves rolled and crashed, splashing continuously, and from the churning water, a figure began to take shape: a woman with a dazzling serpentine tail and long blue hair.

Betty held the spoon tightly, blinking as she watched the figure materialize. When the form fully solidified, she let out a small exclamation of surprise before bowing deeply. “Miss Tyr, good afternoon!”

Tyr, having successfully revived, propped herself up with her tail and lifted her upper body from the water. “Little Betty! Is Lord Gawain here?”

“The master… ah, Your Majesty is in the study,” Betty corrected herself belatedly, “and there are no guests there at the moment.”

“Oh, good. I need to see him—go ahead and keep busy, I’m off!”

Tyr spoke quickly as she climbed out of the pool, but just as she was about to slither toward the door, she paused. Noticing the wooden spoon in Betty’s hand, she flicked the tip of her tail through the water, feeling it briefly before waving her hand. “Not enough salt—too bland. Add more…”

She said this as she hurried toward the door and soon disappeared from Betty’s sight.

The whole thing happened so fast that Betty only registered it after a moment. She glanced toward the direction Tyr had gone, then looked down at the spoon and the salt bucket at her feet. Bending over, she grabbed the bucket and began pouring salt into the pool with a loud splash.

Meanwhile, Tyr slithered swiftly into Gawain’s study, the sudden commotion causing him to look up from his book.

Seeing Tyr suddenly appear in the doorway, Gawain was momentarily stunned before breaking into a somewhat odd smile. “Someone just reported you jumped off the highest magic network tower outside the city and shattered all over the ground. Is this your new ‘fast travel home’ skill?”

“What do you mean ‘jumped’? My tail froze and I fell…” Tyr waved her hands emphatically, then paused thoughtfully. “But you’re right—on a day this cold, if I happened to be outside, falling down and dying out there might actually be the fastest way home… Wait, no, that’s not why I came!”

“Whatever it is, tuck your tail in first,” Gawain said, glancing at the long tail trailing behind her. Tyr was nearly at his desk, but the tail’s end still lingered outside the door, swaying restlessly in the hallway. “It’s blocking the way. Someone might step on it.”

“Oh, right.” Tyr agreed, curling her tail back inside and even using its tip to close the door behind her. Only after coiling herself neatly did she nod at Gawain. “I just finished communicating with Antavien and learned something that might interest you.”

“Interest me?” Gawain blinked, thinking about what connection he could possibly have with the merfolk kingdom across the Endless Sea. He chuckled and teased, “In the depths of the Endless Sea, the only things that might interest me are either the Stormlord mutating or the Stormborn wiping themselves out.”

Tyr nodded. “Exactly.”

Gawain: “…Huh?”

“The Stormborn might indeed be in trouble, though we don’t yet understand what’s going on,” Tyr continued, seemingly oblivious to Gawain’s amused expression. “A few days ago, a strange group of amphibious intelligent creatures suddenly appeared on the ‘Sunshine Beach’ on the western side of the Eo Continent. The Deep Sea Archwitch, Hathor, named them ‘Naga.’ Our queen suspects these ‘Naga’ might be mutated Stormborn…”

Gawain: “…What?”

“We found some Stormborn markers on the Naga, and some even wear Stormborn robes,” Tyr added.

“Wait a minute, I need a moment.” Gawain rubbed his forehead, utterly unprepared for such explosive news from this deep-sea visitor. Tyr seemed to have a knack for leaving him, a seasoned traveler himself, utterly dumbfounded—whether through her occasional sudden deaths or the deep-sea intelligence she brought.

If Gawain was known for his far-sighted insights that shocked the world, then Tyr was clearly here to shock him.

After a moment to collect himself, he exhaled and looked at Tyr. “Alright, let’s take it step by step. Tell me about these ‘Naga’—how did they appear? Then we’ll talk about the Stormborn…”

Tyr didn’t hold back. Since these strange happenings at sea weren’t exactly secret, she recounted everything she had heard in detail.

“They must have slipped from the seabed to the Eo Continent under cover of night. We have monitoring devices in Antavien and several major towns, but the Naga somehow managed to avoid the blind spots…

“They look bizarre—like a mix of humans, sea snakes, and fish, or poorly transformed juvenile merfolk. The Archwitch initially thought they were mutated humans but couldn’t find the cause or any trace of curses…

“They seem excited, as if returning home upon reaching the continent, but they haven’t attacked any merfolk sisters. In fact, they show unusual closeness and obedience to merfolk—at least when they’re calm enough to communicate. Most newly arrived Naga on the beach are too disoriented to talk.

“According to a few calm Naga who could speak, they came to the Eo Continent on a ‘pilgrimage’ because they heard ‘Eva’s call.’ But they can’t remember much about their human past or how they mutated…

“The Archwitch says some Naga might regain more memories over time, but it’s all uncertain…”

As she spoke, Tyr raised her hand and summoned a water orb that twisted and coalesced into a lifelike “water sculpture” depicting the Naga’s form.

It seemed that through the global magic field resonance and the merfolk kingdom’s communication network, Tyr could transmit not only sound but images—the Naga’s likeness was sent to her from across the sea.

If only they could crack the merfolk’s magic ripple communication technology spanning the Endless Sea…

Gawain’s mind briefly wandered with scattered thoughts before focusing on the water sculpture.

The Naga’s appearance was even stranger than he imagined—scales, fins, webbed hands, gills, and other distinct amphibious traits, yet retaining a largely human upper body and face. Such a sight would surely leave a deep impression on anyone who saw it.

Looking at the clear fins and the long tail somewhere between sea snake and fish, Gawain exhaled softly. “Definitely deep-sea adaptations…”

Tyr nodded. “Yes, they’ve mutated enough to survive in the deep sea. The previous Stormborn couldn’t—they were skilled in ocean magic but still had to live on land.”

Gawain frowned. “So it’s not yet 100% confirmed that these Naga are mutated Stormborn?”

“In my opinion, the evidence is quite clear, but the Archwitch is a scholar. She and her deep-sea witches insist on rigor. They haven’t found the key proof of Stormborn mutating into Naga, nor observed the mutation process, so they can’t conclude yet.”

“Alright, let’s assume the Naga are mutated Stormborn,” Gawain said casually. “You mentioned some calm Naga claim they came on a pilgrimage?”

“Yes.”

“And you mentioned ‘Eva’s call’…” Gawain frowned. “I’ve heard you mention ‘Eva’ before, but what exactly is ‘Eva’s call’?”

“First, Eva is a term we merfolk use to refer to the collective consciousness of all merfolk on a planet,” Tyr explained carefully, trying to make the concept easier for Gawain to grasp. “You might think of her as a ‘god’ of the merfolk, but as you know, we don’t worship any specific deity. Eva is more like the will of the merfolk race. According to our theory, Eva is a virtual, conceptual entity—existing invisibly and acting abstractly on our species. In theory, there shouldn’t be such a thing as ‘Eva’s call’…”

“But a group of deranged cultists claim they heard ‘Eva’s call,’ and may have mutated in unimaginable ways because of it, even traveling to the merfolk’s domain on a pilgrimage,” Gawain’s expression grew serious. “It shouldn’t just appear out of nowhere, right?”

“Exactly. That’s what I think too. The queen and Archwitch feel the same,” Tyr said, frowning in frustration. “But none of us merfolk have sensed any so-called ‘Eva’s call.’”

Gawain looked at this deep-sea visitor before him, his mind rapidly piecing together various clues and information.

The first thing to note: before becoming these so-called Naga, the Stormborn were fanatical cultists.

Their actions were closely tied to a “deity.”

Whether they were like the End of All Things cult, rebelling against the gods, or typical zealots trying to please them, their actions almost certainly revolved around a “god.”

So, what is the connection between “Eva’s call” and a god? Or rather, what is the relationship between Eva—the merfolk collective—and any deity?

In Gawain’s mind, a jumble of unrelated words flashed: food chain, Stormlord sashimi, hungry salty fish spirits, prey and predator…

He couldn’t help but tap his temple, trying to gather the jumble of thoughts swirling in his mind until everything boiled down to one shocking conclusion: the sea witch had devoured the Storm God.

As someone who had lived through countless stories in a past life, and as a seasoned observer with satellite-like insight, a vague yet unsettling answer quickly surfaced in his mind.

The answer was bizarre, almost unbelievable—but it fit the logic of this world.

Divine status, it seemed, could be usurped.

If the mortal realm dared to create a fake god, that alone suggested that the position of a god wasn’t as unassailable as people imagined.

Gawain couldn’t help but shoot a strange look at Tyr.

Tyr blinked, caught off guard by the odd gaze, her tail tip twitching. “Hey, what are you thinking about?”

“How many of you sea witches are there? I mean, population-wise… or fish-wise?”

Tyr thought for a moment. “A few million, I guess. We do keep our numbers in check.”

Gawain’s mouth twitched.

If things were really as he suspected—if these deep-sea saltwater fish had, without realizing it, accidentally seized the Storm God’s divine seat—then the whole picture was downright eerie.

Who had taken the Storm God’s place? Was it the sea witches, numbering in the millions? Or was it that abstract concept called Eva?

If it was the former, then what kind of being was this “new Storm God” that required millions of individuals combined to form a single deity?

If it was the latter…

Could the conceptual Eva become the embodied Storm God? Where would this newborn deity exist—in the real world? The realm of water elementals? Or some distant, mysterious divine plane? And would it still represent the collective will of the sea witches?

Whatever the case, the secret of the gods—the mystery of their birth and destruction—might be hidden somewhere in all this.

As his mind raced, Gawain looked at Tyr, who returned a puzzled glance while idly flicking her tail tip.

This really was a deep-sea trickster god…

(Holy hell!!)

(End of chapter)