The Handbook for Completing Demi-Human Girls

Chapter 283: Eerie Text on the Ring

"Wait, wait, wait! Don't say that name!"

The moment Fisher uttered that name, Emhart's mouth gaped wide open. Before Fisher could even react, the book quickly shrank back atop the bookshelf, poking half its head out. The eyes on the protruding book cover darted left and right, as if terrified that a horrifying Demon God would suddenly appear from somewhere on the ship.

"Is she really that terrifying? Even true Mythic Species shouldn't have a taboo against chanting their names, right?"

Fisher had grounds for saying this. Based on his past experiences, he had only ever encountered one entity that possessed the terrifying power of 'chant its name, and it knows of your existence'—and that was the smelly snake that liked to spray water all over his face... oh no, the [God of Life] Ramastia.

Even categorized by Life Ranks, Fisher didn't think Ramastia was an existence at the Mythic Rank; it was highly likely He was an existence at an even higher tier than the Mythic Rank.

No matter how powerful Baimon was, she should still fall under the category of Mythic Species, unable to compare to a god like Ramastia.

"You don't understand, this Baimon is the most eccentric in behavior among all the demons! Back in ancient times, she loved to play different people to participate in or witness certain periods of history. Not even the Sanctuary could resist her infiltration; she successfully entered it... Hey, do you think there's a possibility that Jesse is Baimon in disguise? No, no, no, this is too dangerous. We need to run away quickly!"

Watching Emhart cower on the bookshelf playing dead and shivering incessantly, Fisher pretty much knew he definitely hadn't enjoyed any good fruit when he was caught by Baimon in the Abyss. But unlike Emhart, he wasn't worried now that Baimon would pay attention to him just because he discovered the method to summon her.

The reason was quite simple. Since Baimon had let Emhart go back then, she definitely hadn't taken this sentient relic too seriously. Now, Emhart's fear of her stemmed entirely from traumatic stress.

"Emhart, calm down. This is just a method ancient humans used to summon Baimon. We won't repeat the steps on it, and you've already recorded the contents. Nothing will happen."Emhart, hiding on the bookshelf, peeked his head out slightly. Only after seeing that the parchment had already been tucked under the cover of the book by Fisher did he take several deep breaths, floating up tremblingly and returning to Fisher's shoulder.

"Alright, cough cough... actually, I'm not afraid of her either; I'm just a little worried about your safety. You know, special humans like you suit her tastes the best. What if she disguises herself as a beautiful woman to seduce you? And you're someone who can't control his lower half; you'll definitely fall into her trap..."

Fisher's face was completely covered in black lines as he patted Emhart's head, interrupting the slander against him. But he didn't get up; instead, he continued to flip backward through the "Flying Fish Logbook" in his hand.

The first page after the title page contained all the information about the Flying Fish, including its various data, crew configuration, and so on.

Fisher's gaze quickly paused on the words "Captain: Jesse." Next to that line of text was an already yellowed old photograph. It showed a vibrant, sunny young man with blond hair and blue eyes, wearing an old-standard captain's uniform of the Nazarene Development Company.

Fisher's face didn't show any expression of surprise. He merely rested his gaze on the young man's eyes in the photograph, which seemed to hold a light. After a few seconds, he flipped past several pages. Everything that followed consisted of stories regarding the true Captain Jesse's voyages.

The stories recounted a student who graduated from the Royal Academy. Inspired by Captain Blake, he resolved to abandon his original major and head out to sea to contribute to Nazareth's pioneering cause. Full of anticipation, he entered the pioneering company, using his burning passion as motivation to learn abundant nautical knowledge, and obtained a ship of his own: the "Flying Fish."

But as one voyage mission after another was executed, this Captain Jesse inevitably grew increasingly lost. He had witnessed too much slaughter and plunder in the Southern Continent. The spilled blood and anguished screams made him reflect on whether his original goals were supposed to turn out like today.

Captain Jesse was a man with a conscience. He had made a lot of money through voyaging, but he didn't abandon his bottom line because of these riches and honors.

Under the days and nights of reflection upon the crimes of pioneering, he grew weary of the voyages he originally tirelessly enjoyed, and developed a resistance to the pioneering company he once viewed as a vanguard of the light.

"This is Captain Jesse's final mission for the Pioneering Company. The Flying Fish is ordered to escort treasures excavated from ruins in the Southern Continent back to Nazareth, including two relics and a large number of Southern Continent gold coins. Regrettably, these treasures will never return to Nazareth. My crew and I have resolved to rebel against the Pioneering Company, leaving our original route to head further east."

This was content located closer to the back. The following pages were very thin, looking as though they had reached the very end of this Captain Jesse's life. Only months after the previous record of time did the next entry appear in the logbook, and this was also the final thing recorded by Captain Jesse.

"Our ship is wanted by the Pioneering Company. Originally, we wanted to take these treasures to the east coast of the West Continent, but their encirclement and pursuit forced us to abandon this idea... We can only head to the Northern Border now. The next stop is the Patroshen Islands."

"My crew has developed a change of heart because of the hardships during this period. I can detect the little thoughts buried in their hearts; I must be more careful... I somewhat regret telling them where those treasures are buried, and I underestimated human greed."

"Melissa, my darling, I don't know if I'll be able to see you alive again, and I know I might never have the chance to say these words to you, but getting engaged to you was truly the most correct thing I've done in my life. I love you deeply; may the Mother Goddess bear witness to my loyalty to you... I'm sorry, I might never be able to return to Nazareth."

There was no more content left. Fisher slowly drew his gaze away from the last paragraph of the book, then rather casually tossed the long-dusty book onto the desk in front of him.

"It seems that when those crew members killed the captain, they didn't discover this logbook hidden deep within the bookshelf... and it makes sense. That old man didn't look like someone who enjoys reading. Naturally, the crew wouldn't think to inspect the bookshelf while busy snatching treasures. Let's go see what the true forms of those treasures actually look like."

At this moment, waves of obscure magic undulated from the cabin below. Fisher stood up, a black sword hilt mysteriously dropping into his palm. He gently pushed open the captain's cabin door and stepped into the moonlight.

The deck was completely silent. He took Emhart and walked all the way toward the cabins below the deck.

Magic lights hung in the wooden corridors of the cabins below. But perhaps because the magic crests had become unstable over the vast expanse of time, their light flickered intermittently, adding a touch of gloom to the already quite narrow corridor.

Fisher walked around the first underground floor but didn't find the old man pretending to be Jesse, so he continued down to the lower level.

As he walked, he also surveyed the situation on both sides of the corridor. Extremely obvious blade and bullet marks could be seen on certain walls and handrails. And often, not far from these marks, one could find several patches of thoroughly dried blood fused with the wooden floorboards, just like the bloodstains Fisher saw when he first boarded the ship.

Each of these marks corroborated the story pieced together after reading the captain's logbook: an internal strife had occurred aboard the Flying Fish, with the cause rooted in the treasures on board.

Captain Jesse decided to flee with the Pioneering Company's cargo out of his newfound conscience, but from the looks of it, the crew under his command possessed no such noble sentiments. From the very beginning, they had set their sights on the gold and jewels.

During the voyage, Jesse was murdered by the crew collectively. The remaining crew members then fought among themselves over distribution issues, until finally, one victor emerged to monopolize all the treasures.

He should have originally taken the Flying Fish and the treasures on board to go far away, only to unexpectedly get intercepted by a group of unreasonable gang members at the Patroshen Islands.

To survive, he hid the treasures on the ship so the gang couldn't find what they wanted. He lied to Fisher, claiming to be the captain of the Flying Fish to garner sympathy, all for the sake of returning to the ship today to retrieve the treasures he had dreamed of day and night.

Just as Fisher moved toward the lower level, behind his back, a pitch-black gun barrel had lined up against his echoing silhouette at some point. Long, aged fingers pressed against the trigger. But just as he was about to forcefully fire, the man in front suddenly turned his head, his eyes gazing with a chilling coldness at the old man poking half his head out of a room.

That single glance plunged the old man's heart into ice. However, before his brain could react, the motion of his finger had already pressed the trigger first.

"Bang!"

The sound of the musket exploded in the darkness, but a mercury blade, swifter than the bullet, had already extended, striking the bullet mid-air and scattering sparks as resplendent as fireworks in the dark.

Fisher's body remained still; the fluid sword blade replaced him, lunging toward the old man's palm.

"Buzz buzz buzz!"

The high-speed flowing blade extended forth, rapidly dancing across the old man's hand several times, leaving a good number of bone-deep gashes. But arriving faster than that piercing pain could reach his brain was the increasingly close figure of the man from Nazareth.

This guy... Is he not human?!

"A monster!"

The musket clattered to the floor. Fisher had already clamped a hand around his neck. With no intention of respecting the old or cherishing the young, his right hand instantly struck upward from his elbow in a rapid succession: knee, elbow, shoulder, and subsequently his head...

Fisher's large hand twisted fiercely. When the old man before him was tossed aside, his limbs limply landed on the ground like a doll entirely dismantled at the joints, leaving only his gaze, utterly terrified, lingering solely on Fisher.

"Misunderstanding... Misunderstanding! This is all a misunderstanding! I thought... I thought the gang members had caught up, so I..."

Fisher slowly retracted the sword hilt in his hand into his coat, scanning the scene in the room. He saw that near the window of this guest room, an [Concealment Magic] had strikingly appeared. This magic had already been activated by some password at this very moment. Tiny golden lights flickered in the illusory space behind the magic; it was evident that what was hidden within this magic was the treasure they had previously concealed.

Fisher stepped onto the old man's body with one foot, a half-smile on his face.

"Did you know that greedy people are always overly eager to expose their flaws? If you had really boarded the ship and done nothing, neither unlocking the magic... I might have had to spend a little more effort prying the password to open this magic from your brain..."

"How did it feel monopolizing the treasure after killing the captain? Now you've finally seen what you wanted, having your wish fulfilled. Are you satisfied?"

Although Fisher hadn't held any good intentions toward this old man when he first boarded the ship, the moment Fisher learned of the story that took place aboard the ship and the concealment magic had been opened by him, this old man was already a dead man. It didn't matter anymore whether he fired his gun or not.

"No... You... How do you know? Listen to me, I had no hand in the ship's affair. The other crew members were the ones who moved against the captain, I just acted in self-defense. You want the treasures on the ship, right? I can give you all the treasures; as long as you leave me a way out and let me off the ship, these things are all yours!"

"Isn't this what you're here for? Everyone is here for this, there's no need to take unnecessary measures, right? Let me go, I can swim back to the Patroshen Islands, as long as..."

Fisher, enveloped in the darkness, paid no heed to his justifications. He slowly raised the fluid sword in his hand, pointing it at the old man struggling weakly on the floor.

"Enough, shut up. Save any justifications you have for when you're before the Mother Goddess. Oh, right, one more thing: Captain Jesse sends his regards."

"Crunch!"

The old man's pupils widened slightly. The next moment, a flash of silver light before his eyes plunged fiercely into his neck, entirely separating his head from his body. And even in death, his hands still tightly clutched a golden compass before his chest, as if wanting to embed his fingers completely into the gold.

"Wow, it seems like he lost control of his bladder, so disgusting... Wait, Fisher, if you killed him, can you sail the ship? Sail it to the Northern Border?"

"This ship is steam-powered; as long as the course isn't wrong, we won't end up in the wrong place. I learned how to pilot steamships at the military academy, plus there's magic and you assisting up here, so don't worry about a lack of hands."

"...I am just a book! How can I help you sail?"

"There's always a way you can be helpful, Crew Member Emhart."

"..."

Fisher shifted his gaze from the old man's corpse on the ground to the space hidden behind the magic before him. He stepped closer and saw the jewels and gold hidden inside, alongside two bizarre-looking items. Besides these, there were also a few ancient documents from the Pioneering Company.

It seemed this magic was originally meant for the captain to store these vital documents; who knew Captain Jesse had put another hidden compartment behind his bookshelf.

Fisher took out the gold, jewels, and those two bizarre-looking relics. But the light in this room was simply too dim; the illuminating magic crest was likely on the verge of fading away. So he could only leave the gold and such here for now while dragging the old man's corpse and bringing the two relics back to the deck.

After tossing the old man's corpse into the sea, he returned to Jesse's bright captain's cabin and carefully examined these two odd-looking relics before him.

The appearance of the first item was very distinguishable. Although its shape was strange, it bore a highly premium aesthetic. The whole thing took the shape of a breastplate, incredibly thin and forged from some sort of metal. Holding it in his palm, Fisher felt absolutely no weight; it was as light as a feather.

"Fisher! This thing is a breastplate manufactured by the Holy Progeny. The effect is just as you'd think: not only is it incredibly light, but it's also extraordinarily hard. Moreover, this piece is among those with very high quality among Holy Artifacts. Look, the lines on it are extremely uniform, meaning the Holy Progeny who forged it was definitely an advanced master blacksmith with profound skills..."

Fisher placed the breastplate against his chest to try it out, suddenly realizing that it could actually actively adjust its size to fit his body. Just as he placed the angel breastplate on his body, it seamlessly adhered tightly against it, as if tailor-made exclusively for Fisher.

Following that, Fisher took it off again to test its specific durability. Striking the surface of the breastplate with his bare hands using all his strength left no marks whatsoever, and even using the fluid sword only resulted in very minor scratches. It appeared that withstanding an eighth to ninth-tier physical attack would pose absolutely no problem.

Since he could use this, Fisher put it on under his shirt. After moving around a bit to ensure he didn't feel any discomfort, he then satisfiedly focused his gaze on the next relic.

It was an entirely black ring without any gems embedded on it, but the body of the ring was quite broad, more than twice the width of the rings Fisher usually used to engrave magic on.

"Emhart, do you recognize this thing?"

Fisher sized up the black ring in his hand. Although it possessed a faint divine luster exclusive to relics, so far, it had exhibited no effects whatsoever.

"Uh... I don't recognize this thing at all. Furthermore, this Holy Artifact looks a tiny bit... um, rough?"

"Rough?"

Fisher glanced in surprise at Emhart next to him. This guy revered the Angel-kin immensely and basically wouldn't spit out any disrespectful words toward them. But for this relic to receive such an evaluation from him inevitably made Fisher suspect that this thing very likely wasn't forged by the Angel-kin.

Could it be Muxi? Or some other being that learned blacksmithing techniques from the Angel-kin?

"By the way, that hair tie Jasmine wore before was also a relic. Compared to this one, whose craftsmanship is better?"

"Hmm... I think the one in that Whale-kin girl's hair was made a bit better."

"Is that so..."

Fisher stroked his chin and promptly tested this relic, but found that no amount of tapping or knocking produced any effect. Yet, when the mana circuit on Fisher's hand illuminated, this ring unexpectedly began to burst with fine glimmers of light, and Fisher's mana left no trace on it.

This bizarre discovery caught Fisher's attention. His experience as a Magician provided him with a bit of inspiration regarding this relic's use.

"I think I know what this thing is for..."

"Huh? Does it have any effect?"

Fisher said nothing, retrieving the engraving knife from his magic materials. He dipped some magic material and then, under Emhart's rather bewildered gaze, began carving a simple one-ring magic.

"Wait, what are you doing?! Casually engraving magic on a relic is very likely to damage it..."

"Don't panic. Let me give it a try."

It didn't take Fisher long at all to carve out a one-ring magic. He chose the one-ring light magic [Illumination]. Then, he wore the ring on his hand and pointed it toward the night sky outside. The moment the mana was activated, a radiance countless times more blinding than usual burst from the ring, nearly blinding Emhart and making him almost curse out loud.

"Your mom, is this a one-ring magic? Why is it so bright? My eyes!"

Fisher completely ignored his complaints; he appeared quite exhilarated at this moment. Because Emhart was right, this was simply not an effect a one-ring magic should have. The intensity of this illumination had evidently reached the level of a two-ring or even a three-ring magic...

In other words, engraving magic onto this ring could enhance the power of the engraved spell. This was the true effect of this relic!

Fisher looked down as the one-ring magic crest he had just engraved slowly vanished from the ring on his hand. Except for the slight lingering fluctuations of the World's Echo, the ring looked as if it had never been engraved with magic at all. There was absolutely zero wear and tear, making Fisher click his tongue in wonder.

If Jesse had managed to bring this thing back to Saint-Nazareth in the past, it would probably have fetched an astronomical price in the Magician circles.

It must be known that material wear and tear is a major headache in the magical world. Rather uniquely, this ring not only entirely eliminated magic wear but could even amplify its power; it was simply a relic specifically designated for Magicians.

Fisher wore this ring on his finger as if it were a precious treasure, displaying some fondness that made it hard to part with. But during this wearing process, he suddenly noticed that a line of text seemed to have been carved into the ring's interior, giving Fisher's skin a distinctly sunken sensation.

He furrowed his brows, took off the ring, and held it up to the room's light. Under that light, the characters inside the ring slowly revealed themselves.

It was a line of text Fisher found quite familiar yet alien. It read,

【唐沢あすか】

(Karasawa Asuka)