The sea rushed in from every side.
Wayland instinctively held his breath as his head dipped below the surface, disappearing beneath the waves and leaving only a series of expanding ripples.
'Thankfully, I don't have deep-sea phobia.'
Wayland switched on his floodlight.
"The feed is clear. Please maintain your current vector."
Arisa Kano's voice was warm and gentle, a characteristically melodic Japanese lilt. Even though she was speaking English, her voice reminded Wayland of an anime heroine.
"Copy that."
Wayland replied and continued his descent.
'Irigal.'
Since speaking aloud inside his helmet would be overheard by Arisa, he called out to the system through his consciousness.
['Mmm... what's up?'] A sleepy-sounding Irigal opened her eyes, then suddenly let out a startled shriek.
Wayland jumped a little. 'What's the matter?!'
['Ah! Ah... it's... it's too dark... I... I don't like the dark...'] Irigal stammered.
Wayland let out a silent sigh of exasperation. 'Other people's systems are practically omnipotent, and yet here you are... afraid of the dark?'
'There's a floodlight on,' he comforted her. 'It isn't pitch black. Besides, you're a system. You don't need eyes to see; you can use your sensory perception.'
['Oh, good point!'] Irigal was back to her usual lively self. ['So, Master, what are we doing in the ocean? Looking for dinner? I'm not a big fan of the smell of raw fish, though.']
Wayland's mental forehead twitched. 'Do I look like someone who's about to start prepping a seafood dinner?'
'Well, you don't actually know how to cook, do you? Back in the day, Archer always handled the kitchen. Ah, those were the days...'
'You're a system! Why do you even care about eating?!'
['So what if I'm a system?!'] Irigal shouted back. ['Does artificial intelligence not have the right to eat and sleep?!']
Wayland shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears from Irigal's shouting.
'We're getting off track. Focus.' He quickly changed the subject. 'I'm conducting a survey of the ruins. The light is terrible down here, so help me keep an eye on our surroundings. Specifically, look for any ancient artifacts that don't have magical signatures.'
Irigal let out a huff but followed up with a begrudging ['Fine.']
"Code-name 112, you are currently at a depth of one thousand meters. Danger levels are increasing. The seabed is five hundred meters below you. Please remain alert to your surroundings."
"Ready."
'Should there be large fish in these waters?'
Wayland thought about it. 'Probably, right?'
All those shark movies he'd watched in his past life--The Shallows, Jaws... they'd all taught him to be wary.
'Irigal, keep an eye out for anything dangerous. Like sharks.'
After giving the order, he continued his descent.
The light continued to fade until, aside from the beam of his floodlight, he was surrounded by a void where no brightness could exist.
As he went deeper, the pressure of the ocean began to mount.
Wayland started to feel a certain heaviness in his chest, a slight, suffocating sensation.
But it was still within tolerable limits. Finally, his flippers touched the seabed.
He ran a hand over the surface of his suit. This specialized equipment from the Department of Policies was truly remarkable.
An ordinary diving suit would have reached its absolute limit at three or four hundred meters before the occupant succumbed to the pressure.
"Seabed reached," Wayland reported.
"Copy that. Please confirm that your floodlight, metal detector, prana sensor, and Carbon-14 analyzer are all operational."
Wayland began the checklist.
His floodlight was already on. The other three instruments were integrated into the suit, their controls located on the exterior. He activated them one by one.
The metal detector operated on electromagnetic induction. While it was capable of detecting iron, steel, brass, copper, aluminum, and lead, it had been specially calibrated to prioritize bronze, iron, gold, and silver.
The prana sensor would detect anything with Age of Gods magical traces. Since the ruins dated back to between the 1st and 6th centuries, there were bound to be countless magical items and holy relics.
Finally, the Carbon-14 analyzer would allow for the precise dating of any objects they found, stretching back thousands of years.
"Code-name 112, all systems confirmed. No omissions."
"Please begin your survey."
"Copy."
Wayland looked around. He was surrounded by a forest of vibrant red coral that looked like fallen maple leaves.
These waters, located in the North Atlantic, were technically part of the region influenced by the proximity to the Arctic.
The schools of fish darting in and out of his vision were common Atlantic species--herring, cod, halibut, tuna, and salmon--though in truth, Wayland didn't actually recognize most of them.
He pulled up the pre-calculated sonar map, and a deep red line appeared on his HUD. This was his designated path.
Following Hishiri's orders, the four teams were fanning out from the cruise ship in the four cardinal directions.
Wayland's team was assigned to the west.
Based on the detection ranges of their instruments, they had divided the area into three separate routes.
Elena, Max, and Wayland had each chosen one.
The sonar indicated that the western seabed featured a prominent central ridge. To the left, near the coastline, was a steep slope, while to the right lay a relatively flat expanse of sand.
During their briefing, Elena had made the final decision. As the strongest, she would handle the ridge. Max would take the slope, and Wayland had been assigned the flat sea floor.
Wayland began to walk.
As it turned out, even with a specialized suit, walking on the seabed was an incredibly laborious task.
He kept his pace slow and steady, making sure not to expend any magical energy.
The Department of Policies had provided the suits precisely to conserve their prana for any unforeseen emergencies.
As Wayland stepped forward, the shifting silt beneath his feet sent up clouds of dust.
Schools of fish darted away from his path. Through his floodlight, he caught glimpses of the breathtaking underwater landscape.
For the first time, Wayland felt that being a magus wasn't so bad. It was certainly more exciting than his previous life of school, cafeteria, and home.
But danger was never far away.
After about fifteen minutes of walking, his metal detector let out a sharp, shrill chirp.
Wayland checked the map. The source was thirteen meters to his right.
He didn't immediately notify Arisa; after all, there were countless mundane objects scattered across the ocean floor.
He quickly reached the source of the ping.
It was a metallic frame, completely engulfed in thick, unfamiliar seaweed.
Wayland leaned down and grabbed a handful of the slippery kelp. After a considerable effort, he managed to clear enough of the debris to reveal the object.
"Is this... a ship's anchor?"
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]