Chapter 6

Let's Learn Magic (3)

Published on Oct 8, 2026

Chapter 6 - Let's Learn Magic (3)

The pottery experience worked like this: you shaped the pottery yourself, while the workshop handled the firing, then delivered the finished piece to your home.

At least that was a relief.

Since I had shaped it with my own hands, they would count it as something I had made.

While waiting for the delivery, Yohan read a book in the library.

It wasn't just a way to kill time.

He was gathering information.

[Cthulhu Mythos — Complete Works of Lovecraft]

There had been nothing related to the Cthulhu Mythos in what he had read so far, but Abdul Alhazred was specifically mentioned in the first chapter of The Mysteries of the Worm. And since the author had also learned magic in Damascus, a place associated with him, Yohan decided that it was necessary to learn some background knowledge about it.

But one thing surprised him a little while reading this collection of short stories....

'It's the Cthulhu Mythos. Yet Cthulhu himself... doesn't appear again after getting bonked on the head by a steamship!'

Well, being rammed by a full-speed steamship probably did hurt.

Even I would fall over if I stubbed my little toe against a corner. So I had to give him some understanding.

So I shouldn't think of it like this:

No, fuck! How could Cthulhu, supposedly the strongest of the Great Old Ones, get taken out by a steamship?! (×)

I should understand it like this:

Oh, so getting rammed by a fully charged steamship really does hurt. (✓)

Of course, that was just a joke. Looking at the actual story....

The steamship's charge did prevent Cthulhu's resurrection, but it didn't inflict any meaningful damage.

The police had raided the cultists performing Cthulhu's resurrection ritual, preventing the ritual from being completed properly.

While Cthulhu was being summoned as an incomplete mass, the steamship rammed into his head and pierced it, causing him to be dragged back to his own home, R'lyeh.

...Looking at it this way, the forces of law and order really are powerful.

The police are strong.

Ah, I had thought this was just going to be cosmic horror.

Surprisingly, I also felt a sense of human triumph in it.

The brave Norwegian sailor.

After seeing the incomplete Cthulhu, his companions went insane and died, and he himself was half-mad.

But when he realized that he couldn't escape, he instinctively—or perhaps simply because he believed that such a monster shouldn't be left alone—made a decision.

The scene where he risked his life, drove the steamship at full speed, dodged Cthulhu's tentacles, and rammed straight into him was good.

...And honestly.

Rather than stories featuring Outer Gods or the Great Old Ones...

The story about the painting in that house—the one where the narrator takes shelter from pouring rain in an old house and talks to a cannibalistic old man obsessed with cannibalism, who owns a disgusting book containing illustrations of people being killed and butchered—

Herbert West—Reanimator, about a narrator who was Herbert West's fellow medical student and friend, watching Herbert West experiment with resurrecting corpses while handling dead bodies—

I found those short stories, which had little to do with the Cthulhu Mythos itself, more to my taste and more entertaining.

It wasn't that the stories about monsters were poorly written.

It was simply my personal preference.

Whenever something from outer space, some unknowable horror, or whatever appeared, the descriptions were just too long and elaborate.

They lacked simplicity.

I closed the book and stood up from my seat.

When I looked outside the window, the sun was setting.

In the end, I had enjoyed reading purely for pleasure rather than gathering information.

Still, I did realize one thing.

The Cthulhu Mythos was fiction.

A story created from the settings and ideas of Lovecraft and many other writers.

I looked at The Mysteries of the Worm in my bag.

But then why did a grimoire that must have been written at least as early as 1272 contain the name Abdul Alhazred, a fictional character?

Was he actually a real historical figure?

Or was The Mysteries of the Worm also a creation of the Cthulhu Mythos?

Or was everything actually based on real events?

“............”

I thought about it for a moment, but there was no point, so I stopped.

Continuing to spend time and energy worrying about something I couldn't get a definitive answer to was a waste.

You had to know when to stop.

What mattered was that genuine magical power existed and that I had somehow gotten caught up in it.

If I were to indulge in some wild speculation based on all the years of consuming fantasy and other pop culture, then....

Perhaps the story itself had acquired power.

Magical... energy wearing the skin of a myth?

“...Hah.”

I scoffed at myself, returned the book I had been reading to its original place, and left the library.

Enough pointless fantasies.

Time to go home.

Today was Wednesday, the day my completed pottery bowl was supposed to be delivered.

It should have arrived by now.

That's right, today was Wednesday.

The day of Mercury.

Today's sunrise was at 6:45 a.m.

If I considered the Day of Mercury to begin at seven in the morning, then the Hour of Mercury when the moon was up would be at nine in the evening.

I could eat dinner and prepare everything after getting home.

I had the materials ready, and both the planetary day and hour matched.

Finally, it was time to experiment with magic.

***

That said, it wasn't anything particularly grand.

I planned to make Holy Water, an item used to assist the magic described in the book.

I wondered what difference it had from the Holy Water used by churches, but according to the book, this was "magical water."

I opened the book with one hand and read it while reviewing the procedure.

The first step in making magical water, Holy Water.

Prepare clear, cold water on the Day and Hour of Mercury and pour it into a bowl.

Getting clear, cold water in medieval times must have been difficult, but in the modern era, it was easy.

I poured the water from a bottle of mineral water I had kept in the refrigerator into the bowl.

Second, take a handful of salt, enough to fit in one hand.

You must not squeeze it too tightly.

Then, while holding the salt, recite the incantation written in the book.

“Chebaoth, Messiah, Emmanuel, Elohim Gibor, Yahweh. God who created truth and life.”

“Bless and consecrate this salt. Also grant assistance and protection to the ritual I am about to perform.”

I sprinkled the salt I was holding over the water in the bowl.

Now, while watching the salt dissolve into the water, I recited the final prayer.

“Hear my prayer, and let my cry come before You.”

“Do not hide Your face from me in the day of my distress. Incline Your ear to me; answer me quickly on the day I call.”

That was it.

'That's a long incantation. I should practice the pronunciation later so I don't stumble over the words when I cast a spell.'

With that thought in mind, I waited for something special to happen.

Something like sparkling light appearing and a sacred-looking aura flowing out.

“....…?”

But nothing happened.

I narrowed my eyes and looked down at the Holy Water in the pottery bowl.

'Isn't this... just salt water?'

No.

For now, I should finish making the Holy Water Sprinkler.

Wasn't that why I had deliberately chosen the evening?

A Holy Water Sprinkler was a tool for assisting with Holy Water, made using a plant or branch.

It was used to sprinkle drops of Holy Water.

The best plant for making a Holy Water Sprinkler was hyssop, but if that wasn't available, herbs such as lavender, vervain, fennel, valerian, or rosemary could also be used.

Making the Holy Water Sprinkler was simple.

There was no need to recite an incantation.

Instead, it had to be made during the Day and Hour of Mercury when the moon was up, which was why I had chosen the evening.

I took out the hyssop I had bought in advance from a flower shop and wrapped a string around it to make a handle.

I dipped the hyssop into the Holy Water and shook it once.

The Holy Water Sprinkler was complete.

Ta-da~ I had completed the Holy Water and Holy Water Sprinkler set.

“Haah....”

I wasn't even sure if I had done it correctly.

With a sigh, I casually tossed the old, beat-up Grimoire onto the desk.

Clang—

A sudden wave of existential emptiness hit me, and I collapsed onto the bed.

“.....What am I even doing?”

“Gyaa?”

Apparently, Grizzly thought I was finished with my work, because he had been quietly curled up in the corner and now came over and rubbed his head against my hand.

“Giiii~.”

He was asking for a snack because he had waited so patiently.

I stroked Grizzly's head and pushed him away.

“No. You already ate dinner. That's just fake hunger.”

“Giiii....”

“Damn it.”

Maybe because I had experienced times when I wanted food as a child but couldn't have it, I didn't want to be harsh with him over food.

“Haah....”

Unable to help it, I got up and checked the refrigerator.

'I'll have to go buy more meat and milk tomorrow.'

And I still had to spend more money if I wanted to make the other magical tools.

My expenses had been increasing way too much lately.

In the end, money was the problem.

After getting Grizzly his snack, I lay back down on the bed and searched through websites and apps for short-term part-time jobs.

...Isn't there anything decent?

Then a certain post caught my eye.

[Urgently Hiring a Night Security Guard for Tonight]

There wasn't anything particularly strange about the post itself, but the preferred qualifications were unusual.

Applicants with strong nerves... and those who don't believe in ghosts are welcome.

That wording meant the opposite of what it seemed to say.

It sounded like a warning telling applicants to know what they were getting into.

I sat up in bed and looked toward the Holy Water and Holy Water Sprinkler I had casually left in the kitchen.