Chapter 42 | Transmigrated as a Lighthouse Keeper, but I'm Sealing an Evil God!

Just how stereotypical was it?

The layout of the room before him reminded Elias of the Cthulhu-themed puzzle games he had played on his computer screen in his previous life.

This kind of room was practically a generic asset that a development team could reuse.

The air was thick with the pungent scent of rust and low-quality herbal incense.

In the center of the room, the carpet had been roughly torn from the wooden floor, exposing the dark wood grain.

On that floor, a perfectly standard and complex, eerie ritual array had been drawn with a liquid that was most likely blood.

Surrounding the outer edge of the array was a ring of half-burned, grayish-white candles.

Elias recognized these; he had used them during his advancement ritual. They were called spirit-element candles, used to help the practitioner's spirituality communicate more stably with the spirit world or the Origin Web.

At several key geometric nodes on the outer ring of the array, the three standard occult components were neatly placed: mercury, sea salt, and sulfur.

They each represented different spiritual mediums.

Elias's gaze followed the patterns toward the inner ring of the array.

In the very center of the inner ring sat a glass jar.

Inside the jar, a gray, decaying finger bone was immersed in preservative fluid. Next to it was a stone bowl containing the remnants of a gray powder—dream lotus powder.

This was the culprit the damn mystic had used to ambush him in the hotel hallway.

Furthermore, pressed into the eye of the ritual array was a metal emblem.

It was a brass insignia carved with surging waves and storms, the holy emblem belonging to one of the seven orthodox deities: the Lord of the Raging Sea.

A cultist, in a ritual array suspected of summoning an evil god, had placed the holy emblem of an orthodox deity.

This deeply ironic desecration was clearly intended for some deeper ritual purpose.

The pattern of the array was extremely intricate, identical to the tattoo he had seen on the corpse on the beach, filled with a beauty of chaos and distortion.

And between these twisted lines, the spaces were densely filled with an unknown script that was angular and full of power.

"What kind of devilish scribble is this?" Elias muttered in his mind.

"That is Ancient Runic," Edmond spoke up at the right moment.

In this room filled with supernatural elements, his meager store of knowledge finally found its use.

"Characters used by the Old Norse."

"Legend has it that this Runic script is more than just symbols for recording information. Each character itself contains power and can directly communicate with the underlying rules of the Origin Web."

"These lunatics actually used blood to write Runic characters to solidify the array."

Edmond's tone carried a hint of shock.

"I wonder what kind of entity they are communicating with."

Elias didn't respond. His gaze moved from the array on the floor to the storage cabinets lining the walls on both sides of the room.

The shelves were densely packed with glass bottles and formalin jars of all sizes.

They contained all sorts of things.

From shriveled, unknown plants with human faces to the severed limbs of various mutated creatures.

Of course, human organs were included as well.

Ears, fingers, and even half a heart soaking in yellow liquid.

There was practically everything one could imagine.

Even though Elias had seen much in his previous life, he couldn't help but feel his scalp tingle when he saw all of this with his own eyes.

Especially the top shelf, which held a row of slender glass tubes.

They contained dozens of eyeballs from various unknown creatures.

They suspended in the liquid, seemingly staring at him with an eerie gloom.

"This beast... he died too easily."

Elias gritted his teeth.

He didn't look at those disgusting collections anymore and instead did a general sweep of the room.

Although he saw the gas lamps in the corners, he chose not to turn them on.

The gas lamps here weren't as simple as flipping a switch; lighting them was extremely troublesome.

One had to fumble in the dark to turn the brass knob, adjust the flow of the gas valve, and then use a match or flint to ignite it.

For an injured person, this was practically torture.

"By the time I finished that, the trail would be cold."

It wasn't as convenient as Darkvision.

He went straight to the only desk in the room.

Scattered across the desk were some drafts and a recently opened letter.

The wax seal on the envelope had already been picked open, and the letter was spread out on the desk.

The sender identified himself as a fellow practitioner from the Mist Veil Society named Viridian.

And the recipient was named Firth.

Clearly, Firth was the name of that beast from the beach.

Elias quickly scanned the contents of the letter.

It didn't involve any profound occult metaphors but was more about operational instructions and intelligence exchange regarding Firth's recent activities in Hastings Port.

After finishing the two-page letter, Elias rubbed his brow. The previously chaotic clues began to converge in his mind.

From the letter, he extracted three extremely critical pieces of information:

First, this fellow named Firth was lurking in Hastings Port with the primary mission of searching for the bloodline of the Fortville family.

That was right—the ancient noble family that Old Edmond had once served.

Second, besides finding people, Firth was to provide relief to a siren brother who "believed in their Lord" in this sea area.

The letter mentioned that this siren had recently been injured and was in an unstable state, requiring medicine and sacrifices.

Third, find a way through connections or forged identities to become a lighthouse keeper for the Wayland Shipping Company, replacing a specific sentry.

It was all connected.

Everything was fucking connected.

From the information currently known, Elias could deduce that the evil organization known as the Mist Veil Society was playing a major game around the waters of Moon Bay.

The final prayer in the letter was written with intense fanaticism:

"May the Lord's glory be reforged!"

Translating this nonsense filled with cultist delusions: what they were currently doing could facilitate the revival of their "Lord."

There were two key points in this logical chain: finding the Fortville family bloodline and becoming a lighthouse keeper.

Since the lighthouses in the Moon Bay area were originally established by the Fortville family, the bloodline of this family certainly held a secret.

But for the current Elias, he was more concerned with the latter two pieces of information.

Because they directly related to the battle that had almost cost him his life.

"A siren... is actually a believer of an evil god?"

Elias looked at the letter, feeling a sense of absurdity.

Monsters have religions too?

Has the business scope of cults expanded this far lately?

Cross-species multi-level marketing?

This at least explained that the mutated siren that attacked him worshipped the same "Lord" as the Mist Veil Society.

And this unlucky fellow named Firth had likely run into trouble while following orders to provide relief to this stranded siren brother on the beach.

Firth had been counter-controlled by the siren's enchantment spell, turning him into bait to lure Elias, the enemy, into a trap.

After all, there was the grudge of a bite and several gunshot wounds.

It wouldn't be a siren if it didn't seek revenge.

This explained why a Scale Two mystic would act like a puppet, even to the point of spiritual exhaustion where he couldn't even maintain a protective shield.

"It seems this siren gained some kind of empowerment after leaving the lighthouse's suppression range."

"Is it because the 'Lord' of the Mist Veil Society bestowed a blessing?"

That didn't seem entirely correct.

Elias stroked his chin, feeling like he was missing some vital piece of information.

Then there was the matter of becoming a lighthouse keeper.

This was definitely significantly related to the Mist Veil Society's goals.

Ask yourself, why would a Scale Two cultist go through so much trouble to become a lighthouse keeper on a deserted island eating dried salted fish? What was he after?

What could he do?

Turn off the tower light?

Destroy those alchemy buoys?

Undoubtedly, if the lighthouses went dark and the buoys failed, the line of defense for this sea area would vanish.

Then, those monsters in the sea who were already restless could go ashore on a massive scale, turning the coastal port cities into their buffet.

Thinking about it that way, it was indeed quite evil.

"Why am I worrying about this..."

Elias curled his lip.

With the memories of a modern person from his previous life, he didn't feel a strong sense of belonging to this dilapidated steam-age world.

If the sky fell, the tall ones would hold it up. The Kingdom of Velen had so many official agencies; there was no need for an undocumented person like him to worry about world peace.

But...

The part of his memory belonging to the original body gave him a sense of kinship and responsibility toward this world, as well as his sister Charlotte and his eldest brother Arthur, that was thicker than water.