Chapter 3

It was odd being underwater, especially when you can see the surface dancing directly about you. For most people, they would rather not stay underwater for any extended amount of time, but now that I could, it proved to be quite a novel experience.

My human mind insistently demanded me to surface, but I resolutely denied my instincts. Before I advance any further than the lake, I would rather figure out the threats before doing so.

If it is a lake at all.

Seeing that the bottom of the lake wasn't all that far away from the surface, enough to see the tiny ripples, it took an educated guess to deduce that this wasn't some shoreline that was filled with rocks.

The kelp helped too.

Kelp help?

Help kelp.

That was lame.

However, the debate of whether I am near the shore or in a lake wasn't exactly the definition of pressing.

What was pressing was the fact that some hundred meters away, there seemed to be a roughly bipedal crab-shelled humanoid carrying an honest-to-god trident, herding a school of fat, floated fish that looked like they would stand no chance of survival in the wilderness.

It was rather disturbing to look at.

The gloom and doom effect was rather ruined by the fact that I could literally see until the opacity of the water drops from oversaturation of grey-colored things, all because light and dark played absolutely no factor in whether I could see something or not.

I watched warily behind a kelp despite both our relative transparency stated that I would probably be invisible to the things… eyes? Electrostatic sensory like sharks? Tasting?

Focus.

The crab-fish-person was rather large, around the size of a three-person couch, the shell on its back shining greyishly through the light sentient beings seem to give off. Two fins protruded from where the ribs would be, underneath the webbed and scaled arms holding its weaponry. A long fishtail protruded from its between two stout-looking legs with one too many joints, ending in a flat fluttering-thing that was reminiscent of a tadpole.

What took the cake and metaphorical reward for freakishness was its face, which would make a mother disown her own son at birth.

It was frankly speaking, hideous to the extreme.

I knew that my current visage would win no beauty contest either, but at least it didn’t look like some kind of eldritch abomination that took botox for breakfast.

Odd looking mandibles formed the lower jaw with some kind of grabbers around it, paddling and twitching furiously as it tasted the water around it. The head, however, was a soothed carapace that reached back until it disappeared under the shell, small beady dots rimming around it as eyes.

Then, there was the small patch of tentacles the protruded from its chin like a mustache summoned via the demonic sacrifices of virgins.

I immediately no longer wished to be here anymore.

I could hardly care if they were sentient, friendly or evil. All that I would ask for was that I faced the other way when I first came here.

I spent a few moments screaming internally.

…

As a rather morbid person, I spent my functioning days drawing questionable things. Seeing all the monsters in real life, however, was rather unsettling.

Elisa? I asked myself in a mock concerned voice as my body curled up.

Go away, reality.

Come on. If we want to leave, we need to find a [Corridor].

When did it become a 'we'?

You know what you mean.

Soundly defeated by my own logic, I reluctantly unfurled the Elisa-Ball.

Some part of me understood that the position I was in was rather comical – an eel-thing the size of a car or two curling up into a ball, hiding behind a kelp as if it got scolded.

The fish-man-thing, whom I shall now christen as “Creep” for its ugly mug — entirely not hypocritical — continued with whatever it was doing. It idly circled around his flock — Swarm? School? — waving the trident-like thing in its scaly arms.

Without too much trouble, the school of blobfish that Creep was herding trudged along languidly, floating by. The fish themselves were faint — just as faint as a kelp tower which held no intelligence. Dumbly, the fish grazed at the seaweed or lake-weed or whatever these are, eating down the glassy looking matter in slow mouthfuls.

However, with their numbers, it didn’t take too long for them to demolish a kelp.

The wispy pieces and chunks entered their gel-like bodies, disappearing and blending in without a trace.

They were, in all senses, the aquatic equivalent of cows.

Cows without brains, perhaps.

I spent a while studying the group, not moving away from my spot. As time went by, my body gradually turned white, blending into the environment.

Creep, despite being monstrously grotesque, acted in a rather relaxed away. I did not know how far it could see, or if it could see at all, but it was alert and awake if the bobbing of his figure indicates anything.

Time passed on, nothing happened.

The group drew close and left again. The well next to me occasionally let out burps of bubbles, all manners of alien fish swam by without noticing me or caring at all.

It was apparent that Creep was avoiding the well actively. It wouldn’t take a genius to understand why, seeing that these shark-fish-things were rather aggressive looking.

However, the fact that the being could use tools and have intelligent behaviors such as herding was rather alarming. Being armed and making the effort to such things suggested that there would be an entire civilization of such things somewhere out there.

Where are the rest of them then?

Why is it here?

What do they do with the blob-fishes?

I broke myself out of the questioning spree. Just watching Creep and company swimming around would hardly offer any questions.

More importantly, there was a larger question.

I glanced upward.

It was a sheet of rippling white. Constantly changing, but fundamentally exactly the same at almost any spot, with only ghostly flashes of grey that indicates it was moving at all.

Well, there are these greyish looking things stuck to it. Probably just some swamp things though, so might as well ignore it.

If I could leave the water, I would definitely do so.

It would be rather stupid for me to be stuck in the lake despite having the option to just… leave. Running away is always an option, apparently.

Shrugging to myself, I swam for the surface. The fish around me remained oblivious of my presence. I carefully avoided the critters to avoid causing a panic, especially since they couldn’t see me like I could see them.

When I reached the top, staring into the all-encompassing field of white, I suddenly felt rather uncertain. As these wispy [essences] tend to be, it was odd that there would be a field of pure white here.

The ground and [boundaries] of the [Beyond] were always white in color.

It wouldn’t be strange if the… air beyond here wouldn’t support me.

Filled with apprehension, I slowly poked the water surface with my [Spear], testing it.

The appendage went through without much trouble. I wiggled it a bit, but wasn’t much feedback from it. I couldn’t differentiate what is hot or cold, and certainly I couldn’t get wet either.

I withdrew the tentacle and it came back intact and in one piece.

Huh.

Despite my [Spear} being able to pass through, it was impossible to see through the watery veil.

Hmm…

A horrible indecision struck me. My common sense told me that sticking my face through something like that was a foolish idea.

But it should be fine. Maybe.

…

Here goes nothing, I guess.

Forcing my eyes open, I forced my head to break through the water surface.

There wasn’t much feeling at all, to be honest, when I went through the surface. No splash, no water dripping off, nothing at all.

Which includes what I could see — nothing.

Just a constant whiteness of nothing.

Well, there wasn’t exactly nothing.

There was an odd weight on my face, as if I've thrust my head into a basin of some sort instead of being out of the water.

It took me a moment to remember what this sensation is — gravity. My head, being out of water, was pushed back down into the lake, a weight preventing me to move beyond. With a pop, I found myself being pulled back into the lake despite my paddling.

… huh.

It appeared that the whiteness that existing beyond the [boundary] would actively repel me if I got too far inside — and I could see a grand total of nothing if I attempted to travel beyond that.

Or maybe it is just gravity being in place again. How would you know?

While discouraging, it did reveal to me that my area of activities was restricted to only within the water.

I briefly considered thinking harder about it before giving up on trying to unravel the senseless logic of the [Beyond].

Giving a metaphorical sigh, I turned back to the depths.

Creep the otherworldly shepherd had disappeared along with his shoal — no wait, he seemed to have moved away from the well towards a veritable kelp jungle, doing Creep things. Without any notable landmarks or the presence of compass points, it proved to be stupidly difficult to describe to myself where things are.

Now what?

What ‘what’?

What do Elisa want? What is Elisa looking for?

Why am I referring myself as third person? It is because I am bored enough to hold a conversation with myself? Is it because I started psychoanalysing myself? Elisa needs a therapist.

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…

So what is Elisa looking for?

I glanced at the underwater scenery around me and despaired.

I couldn’t really see all that far, since the minuscule motes of grey formed by the tiny biologically alive things eventually clouded the water, so my view distance was rather hampered when compared to being in the “Sacred forest”.

Even with my ability to straight up ignore the concept of light and dark, I still couldn’t see more than thirty meters or so before things start to fade out into blurry shapes — unless I happened to be looking upwards, at which case I would always see the surface of the lake.

How does that work? I thought there weren’t light and dark!

How would that even work? And stop asking questions Elisa can’t answer! It is not helping at all.

Fine, Elisa wants…

What do I want?

…

Elisa wants to get the fuck out of this lake. There aren’t any thing that could give a healthy amount of [Essence] without it being a total chore. Also, ugly fishes are ugly.

But it is safe! Being able to get [Essence] with minimal risk should be the goal!

…

Come on, Elisa. The [Deposit] is looking pretty dry right now.

Disgruntled, I turned back towards the well.

If Creep seemed to be actively avoiding the area, it should be fine for me to drain the creatures there.

If a soul was devoured in a lake but there was no one there to witness it, could it be proved that an Eldritch abomination was lurking around?

At the top of the well, I swiftly located the most opaque looking critters there were. To my surprise, it wasn’t the fishes that were the most solid.

It was the giant shellfish looking things that were the size of couches.

The large spiky looking clams lined up along the ledges like dishes on a drying rack, jutting out in bizarre organic fashions. The shell itself was faint, only carrying the faintest trace of [Essence] within. However, it was to be noted that the the fleshy part of the clam-things themselves were rather cloudy, it also shone with a tiny tiny hint of green.

What would that mean? And how the heck did I miss these things?

May be Elisa should learn to realize when to look down when she goes up. Maybe then Elisa would realize that swimming upward meant that you would only be able to look at the bottom, not the top.

Genius.

Shrugging to myself metaphorically once again, I swiftly swam down to the helpless creatures.

Seeing that they were literally grafted into the rock, it would hardly have a viable escape strategy.

Or are they barnacles instead? Damn, I don’t know enough things.

In any case, it would certainly be a free buffet.

I randomly chose one to start with at the top ledge, scooting my lengthy body on the ledge so fishes wouldn’t swim through it by accident.

My [Spears] flexed — good, working condition — and thrust it at the clam.

Ping!

…

It appeared that somehow, the flimsy shell suddenly started glowing. And with that glow, it managed to deflect my thrust.

Even clams could do the hocus pocus. What the heck, world!?

However, I wasn’t too discouraged.

It would be hopeless boring otherwise if it turned out to be just another free meal otherwise.

Internally grinning at the prospect, I started devising a plan to get through the shell.

Should Elisa be grinning at this? She probably shouldn’t. Grinning while plotting to kill something shows a serious mental issue called being a sadist.

In the past, the [Priest] called Bennet could somehow deflect my attacks by allowing this glowy-thing into his weapon — even though it was wholly not alive. It could be explained that the cross-axe-thing was “holy” in nature and could therefore affect the spiritual world, but I firmly refuse to believe that a clam could do the same.

In another case, they created a barrier looking thing they called [Sanctuary] that actively damaged my Essence if I tried to pass through. However, I was confident that I could pop that like a balloon if needs be.

With this, however, I’ll need to apply a bit of brute force.

How would someone break a walnut? Apply pressure.

A lot of it.

However, I decided not to bite on it. My spindly teeth would probably break off if I tried to chomp on something not so fleshy.

That being, I could still hammer the shit out of the shells with my [Spears].

Therefore, I swung the [Spears] in a trajectory to allow the to build up momentum before crashing down upon the clam-thing.

PANG!

There was an almighty crashing sound as impact occurred. I could feel the shock traveling up the tentacles but it wasn’t too bad, seeing that nothing was actually damaged.

The glowing shell, however, started flickering, like some fluorescent light that suffered from faulty wirings. The clam thing underneath the surface jiggled slightly, visually registering my attack on its being.

If it bleeds, I can kill it!

Undaunted, I let my limbs wind back again for another whip at it.

PANG!

And again.

PANG!

The clam was visually squirming now under its shell, the folds of flesh rippling in panic as its literally glowing defense began to falter. I took that as an encouragement to continue my abuse. So, I smacked it again and again—

PANG! PANG! PANG! PANG!

Until finally —

PANG! PANG! PALIki—

I {Smashed} a hole straight through the shell itself. Not just destroying the glowing forcefield thing that stopped me initially, but the shell itself had visually shattered into pieces around the area where I slammed the [Spears] against it.

Yes! I chanted as I did a celebratory dance mentally, grinning evilly.

My [Spears] flickered and slammed into the exposed critter without hesitation, {Puncturing} the soft flesh of the clam. Greedily sucking up the [Essence], the hapless creature could only sit there and shrivel away as it melted under my ravenous drain.

The blob of [Essence] traveled up my tentacles into my body, I shuddered as the foreign [Essence] was rapidly converted into my own, flowing down into my [Deposit], savoring each mote despite not being able to taste it at all.

With the three [Spears] draining the same critter at once, it was a surprisingly quick meal. As the shell crumbled away into what was essentially fertilizer, I counted the amount of [Essence] that I received.

The number that I got was around twenty to thirty, which was higher than I expected them to have. What did these clams do to have such a stupidly large amount of [Essence] within them?

Most mundane creatures that were not sentient would give less than ten, a plant would be lucky to have more than one. These clam-things, however, broke through my predictions with impunity.

Don’t think about it too much, Elisa. It wouldn’t be productive to worry about these really minor details that wouldn’t matter at all when you move on to the next [Area].

Good call, Elisa.

I glanced about the well, counting the ledges — dozens of them. On each one, jutting out like plates on shelves were clams, hidden behind the taller kelps and corals but remained unshielded from my eyes.

Hundreds, I realized, shocked, Hundreds of clams. If each gives around twenty to thirty, it would be possible to take up to six thousand or more [Essences].

Hundreds of [Essence] holders, lining up like a free buffet. Who left all these things here?

With that, I declared the food issue solved.

I did a quick inspection on my [Spears] — still pristine. There were tiny scratch marks on the surface where I repeated hammered them against the shell, but it was something that could be solved with a single digit amount of [Essence], so it was nothing to worry about.

I moved on to the next clam, which must have somehow ‘heard’ the commotion and had put up its defenses early.

Not that it would help at all.

My [Spears] once again reared back, giving myself some space for it to swing.

Smashing things is therapeutic, I remarked as I pictured the clam shells rupturing and breaking into pieces, not particularly healthy, but therapeutic.

The tentacles under my control swung again at my command, {smashing} into the shell with all my might.

PALIKI!

The shell crumpled away instantly, the light shattering with a ‘bang!’ as the triple impact destroyed the defences. The creature underneath was also unfortunately smacked along with it, splattering all over the place as the [Spears] crushed it.

A small mushroom cloud of debris erupted from the impact, quickly fading out of sight as the [Essence] quickly dispersed into nothingness. The fishes nearby scattered from the disturbance, but I could hardly care about that at all.

…

Eh?

It wasn’t that easy last time.

…

Is this clam defective?

…

My eyes narrowed out of habit. Glancing at another clam, I decided to smack it too.

Just for reference.

My [Spears] arced toward it, but failed to actually destroy it as they were repelled with a resounding ‘PANG!’, rebounding back towards me.

… huh. Interesting.

What was the difference? What did I do that allowed me to break through so easily? I didn’t attempt to do anything fancy such as ‘locating weak spots’ or ‘hitting it at the same time’.

So what changed?

I had a sneaky suspicion of what happened. Not completely sure, but it was something.

… {Smash}?

My [Spears] whipped toward the shell almost on its on volitation, striking the shell on its side. Again, the cracking sound of shells echoed out from the clam as the [Spears] seemed to bulldoze through whatever defences it had with impunity.

Once again, the [Essence] ball underneath had been completely obliterated, but that was fine to me since it revealed something far more important.

Huh.

Huh huh.

Huh huh huh huh!

And so it appeared that Elisa had stumbled upon another mind-boggling discovery about the ridiculous mechanics of the world ruled by intention alone.

Great.

Ignoring my mental sarcasm, I translate it into something easier for myself to comprehend. Apparently, for some strange reason, if I labeled things — actions, as they were and attempt to do it while invoking the word and concept, whatever I attempt would seem to be much more ‘powerful’.

And ‘powerful’ as in it did more things than what I actually expect.

I had always had a habit of labeling activities that humans do all the time. {Shit-talking}, {Passive-Aggressive-Rant} and {Breathing} were but examples.

However, I had never expected that habit to be actually relevant here.

Thinking back, I made a small list of actions I clearly labeled as ‘actions.

{Breath: Cannon} and its counterparts, {Impale}, {Swipe}, {Puncture}, {Smash}, {Auto-Scale}, {Auto-snake}, {Barrier}, {Self-Mould} and {Breathing}... They all did something.

Or did they? I didn’t pay much attention to them — though some of them clearly worked better than I expected to — especially the {Auto} series.

It would be impossible for someone to master spontaneous growth otherwise, wouldn’t it?

However, it seemed to be limited to things that I could already do. Things like impaling something or puncturing — those were things that I could already kind of do without having to yell out the name.

In that case, wouldn’t it be possible to make all sorts of nonsensical ‘abilities’? Things like {Yell}, {Mosquito-Kill} and {Suicide}?

A shudder went down my imaginary spine as I considered the very real possibility of those things actually happening.

Note to self, don’t do that.

Despite my misgivings, it would allow me do a lot more. Maybe, just like with {puncture} and {Smash}, I could eventually grab things. Real life objects, in that sense.

Or become visible.

Do you really want to?

Well, not now. Not really.

Along with that, Elisa is accepting the fact that she could do paranormal activities by screaming out the names internally rather quickly. Elisa needs a mental check up.

Let’s not think about things like that for now. Small steps, Elisa. Small steps…

Putting that out of my mind, I proceeded to finish through with what I came here for. Aside from the first clam, the next two were both squashed by my might. In order to get to the [Essence], I would need to figure out a way to limit by strength.

Simple. Don’t hit with three [Spears].

Listening to myself, I raised my weapon arm.

Ha.

As if knowing that it’s time has come, the clam I was targeting visibly shook within its shell, unable to escape and unwilling to expose itself.

{Smash!}

PALIKI!

As if it was struck with a hammer, the outer layer of the shell suddenly found itself to be quite structurally compromised, cracks appearing around the barb of the [Spear]. Gleefully, the appendage wormed itself inside, seeking out the tender clam flesh.

As soon as I located the thoroughly terrorized denizen, I immediately started slurping up its [Essence] through a quick {puncture}.

The being took slightly longer to drain, but that was also fine. This merely meant that my other two [Spears] can proceed to crack the other clams.

So, in that way, there was a period of time where only sharp “PALIKI!” sounds could be heard.

Over and over again.

After all, there was at least a couple hundred of those things lying around on the ledges. Devouring a whole bunch wouldn’t be much harm, wouldn’t it?

PALIKI! PALIKI! PALIKI! PALIKI! PALIKI!—

Well, then there were about a hundred. They weren’t doing much after all — they weren’t eating anything and there wasn’t anything eating them. Having a few less wouldn’t affect the ecosystem too much… I think.

PALIKI!PALIKI!PALIKI!

Maybe a few dozens?

PALIKI! PALIKI! PALIKI! PALIKI! PALIKI! PALIKI! PALIKI!

…

…

You know what? I told myself as I systematically destroyed the clams, leaving a cloud of floating… things around the well. Screw environmental friendliness. Give me my freaking [Essence].

Previously, each [Deer] gave around two hundred to three hundred [Essence] each, and I killed at least some odd hundreds — not to mention the [Monkeys]. The result of that was a form that was made of approximately eight to nine thousand [Essence] — less than one-fifth of what I had consumed to get here.

Therefore, a mere six thousand [Essence] really wasn’t much when compared to the bounty I reaped from the “Sacred Forest”.

In that sense, I declared that scrounging for two digit numbers worth of [Essence] should be either not worth it or better by the hundreds. Perhaps I was slightly disgruntled at the thought of having to limit my absorption of [Essence], leading to me having… ‘accidentally’ go on a killing spree.

Yeah right, Elisa, ‘accidentally. Who’s going to believe you?

Maybe perhaps in hindsight, it was stupidly lucky for me to run into an [Area] filled with so many [Creatures of the Beyond] that somehow carried hundreds of [Essence] but some still lack the ability to combat.

Or is Elisa just abnormal?

Probably. I’m pretty sure most spirits weren’t born by being tugged out of the afterlife. Also, shouldn’t the question be directed in why the heck are all of these creatures so weak? Why couldn’t they {Self-Mould}? Why do they not have special abilities?

…

Holy heck, Elisa is a paranormal spook that is freaky even by their standards.

Another shudder went up my not-really-there spine again.

If there is anything out there that makes a habit of capturing spirits, I would be first on the list to get dissected.

Don’t jinx yourself. Don’t jinx yourself.

Now completely saturated with [Essence], my [Deposit] forcibly lengthened and then compressed throughout by segmented body, I hastily escaped the well.

And if the well happened to look like a volcano opening due to me turning too many critters into dust, then so be it.