Chapter 104
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 104
At the break of dawn, Turan finished reviewing the intelligence gathered by the spies. He organized the documents neatly and stepped out of the house.
After closing the door silently, he pulled a long wooden case from his high-capacity storage pouch.
This was an item he had commissioned from a group of settlers back when the southern reclamation project was in full swing. It was a specialized storage case designed to keep the hair of various individuals separated and preserved.
Inside were strands of hair from his two companions, feathers from Bije, and hair from Godis, Solif’s father. The hair he had recently obtained from the Zahar knight now joined the collection. If he ever needed to find the man again, he could use these samples to track him down at any time.
After returning to the inn and sleeping until noon to recover from the fatigue of his all-nighter, Turan enjoyed a hearty lunch before heading back toward the residential district of the Carmine nobles.
Unlike his previous visit under the cover of night, the area was now bustling with activity in the broad daylight.
Let’s see. If the knights' quarters are over there... I should head toward the next intersection.
Combining the basic knowledge he had gained from Asiz with the information from the Zahar spies, he concluded that there were no real internal factions within the Carmine family. Much like the Lavitas, the current head was still relatively young at around a hundred and fifty years old, so there were no succession disputes to exploit.
If one had to draw lines, the family was divided into the mainstream—consisting of the head and other high-ranking nobles—the young elites expected to reach those heights, and those of mid-to-low rank.
Naturally, a secret meeting of high-ranking officials would only involve the nobles of the mainstream faction. Turan’s goal was to surreptitiously replace one of the attendees, and he had already settled on his target.
Found him. Onil Carmine.
The owner of the mansion Turan had arrived at, Onil, was the son of Zemel Carmine—the current head’s younger brother and a top-tier noble. Onil himself was a young noble with high potential. Given his status, it was almost certain he would attend the "secret meeting."
The moment Turan slipped through an open window after circling the perimeter, a shrill noise echoed through the mansion as if to welcome him. It was the unmistakable sound of shattering glassware.
"Get out, you useless bastards! You call this cooking...?"
"M-my apologies, Master!"
"Mani, Mani? Wake up!"
"Shh, carry him out quietly..."
Following the commotion, Turan saw a servant being carried out of a room by two others, blood streaming from a wound on his forehead.
In the background, a young noble sat huffing in an armchair. Turan could sense a mana signature from him that placed him at the lower end of the high-rank tier. This was undoubtedly the master of the house and Turan’s target: Onil Carmine.
Did he break the man's head just by throwing a glass? His personality is charming already.
Whatever had enraged him, Onil stormed out of the dining room despite the lavish feast spread across the table. Consequently, the Abacha-style banquet of fine seafood became the spoils of the servants tasked with clearing the table.
Perhaps because they were used to serving such a volatile master, they ate the leftovers in silence until Onil was far enough away to be out of earshot. Only then did they let out their frustrations.
"It’s been getting worse lately. How many times a day does he pull this crap?"
"I know. This is delicious; I don't see what his problem is."
"He’s just throwing a fit because he can't control his own temper... Well, at least we get to eat something good because of it."
A servant mumbled while stuffing a grilled shrimp the size of a forearm—likely a magical beast—into his mouth. It looked genuinely appetizing, so Turan reached out and snatched a piece of grilled salmon for himself without the servants noticing.
"Hey, don't eat it all. We have to save some for Tonin and the guys who carried him out."
"At least he only broke a glass this time. Maybe it’s because the Great Elder scolded him after that Boshu family member was beaten to death last time."
"Great Elder, my ass. He’s just as much of a bastard for letting a guy like this run wild."
"I wish I’d been born a noble."
As their tempers flared, the servants began hurling raw insults at Onil—language so foul they would have been hanged instantly had any noble overheard. They cursed his parents for giving birth to such a creature and wished he would drop dead horribly while on a pilgrimage.
While it wasn't rare to find a noble disliked by his household, it was uncommon to find one this universally loathed.
I definitely picked the right guy.
In this world, the "Law of Humanity" dictated that mages, as descendants of the gods, protected humans, and humans served mages. Nobles raised with this education might treat commoners as insignificant, but they rarely went out of their way to abuse or torment them directly. Such behavior was considered excessively "undignified" for a noble.
Furthermore, knights and nobles generally didn't derive much sadistic pleasure from bullying the weak compared to commoners. However, occasionally, outliers like Onil were born—deviants who didn't care for such codes of conduct. He was the type whose direct harassment of commoners made even other sensible nobles frown.
This was one of the reasons Turan had chosen Onil as his cover. To erase the traces of his infiltration, he would eventually have to eliminate the target, and he felt much less guilty about killing a piece of trash.
Turan followed Onil’s presence as he left the mansion. Onil wandered the garden as if taking a stroll, but suddenly began manifesting whips of ice out of thin air, slashing through the nearby ornamental trees.
A gardener pruning branches nearby screamed in horror at the sight.
"Gah—!"
"I don't like the shape. Replant them all!"
"Y-yes, Master..."
After leaving the gardener in despair, Onil continued his rampage through the estate—tearing down a wall because the stables "smelled" and crushing a knight’s foot because the man had dared to glance at him while passing by.
Watching from the shadows, Turan let out a hollow laugh of disbelief.
I heard stories, but... he really is a brat.
Considering Onil was over sixty years old, his behavior was the definition of failing to act his age. Yet, surprisingly, this was him "restraining" himself to some extent.
Wasn't he scolded by his father recently for beating his concubine and her family to death?
Onil had three concubines instead of a companion. Rumor had it that when one died from his excessive abuse, he killed her father and brother when they came to protest. Even though a concubine held lower status than a companion, it was such an irrational act that Onil had been severely reprimanded by his father and placed under house arrest.
There were likely countless other servants he had killed intentionally or by "accident" since his youth. There was a reason everyone feared him and why he had never found a companion.
Turan continued to shadow Onil, analyzing every detail of his speech, gestures, and facial expressions.
I was too rushed when I mimicked Kadram. That’s why I was almost caught by someone close to him... I have to be more thorough this time.
*
Three days had passed since he infiltrated Onil’s mansion.
Turan invested every waking moment into observing and mimicking everything about Onil. Like an actor recreating a historical figure, he aimed to perfectly replicate every one of Onil’s mannerisms. He even observed Onil playing gambling games with friends he summoned out of boredom and his behavior in the bedroom, digging out every minor habit.
During this time, Onil’s father, Zemel Carmine, paid a sudden visit.
"The rumors that you are still acting like a hooligan are widespread."
"Father."
"You are aware there is an important family meeting in four days?"
"Yes."
"I’d like to tell you to forget about it, but since none of my other children compare to you in talent, I will give you a seat. You must not cause trouble there."
"Yes..."
Onil, who acted like a tyrant within his own walls, answered in a shrunken voice, unable to even meet his father’s eyes.
Regardless, it was good news to confirm that Onil was indeed one of the attendees. Turan had worried that Onil might be such a terrible delinquent that he wouldn't be invited to important functions.
Then again, even in a Great Family, mages of this caliber aren't common.
Despite his personality, Onil possessed high-rank mana and had not yet hit his limit, meaning he still had room to grow. Considering there were fewer than twenty such talented individuals even in a Great Family, they couldn't afford to discard him over personality issues.
Zemel clicked his tongue at his son’s cowardly display and left the mansion.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it—!"
Naturally, as soon as his father left, Onil went on a rampage, smashing everything in the drawing room. In the process, a servant suffered a serious injury—a broken arm.
The day after the confirmation, Turan began a simple experiment.
"Hey."
"Yes, Master!"
"Bring me a cup of tea. Anything is fine."
"Understood!"
Taking advantage of a moment when Onil had left the mansion, Turan took on Onil’s appearance, dressed in his clothes, and ordered a servant to bring tea. Whether it was because of his practice or because the servant lacked the bond necessary to notice anything amiss, the tea was brought without the slightest suspicion.
After several more secret interactions with servants in different areas, Turan felt confident that his performance had matured.
At dawn on the sixth day.
Turan stood over Onil as he slept alone, having dismissed a pretty concubine after a rough night. He gazed at the face illuminated by the moonlight for a moment before bringing down Haram’s dagger. Blood sprayed in every direction.
Like the Arabion knights who once fell to Zahar, the deep-sleeping Onil died in a single strike without ever knowing he was being killed. It was a pathetic end for a high-ranking noble with such power. It was easy to see why the Arabion nobles were so obsessed with their defenses.
Compared to what he’s done, he died quite peacefully.
Though he doubted it based on the man's behavior, Turan was relieved that no divine soul suddenly manifested from within him. If that had happened, he would have had to scrap the plan and flee immediately.
Turan absorbed Onil’s mana and extracted every drop of blood that had soaked into the bed and blankets, storing it in a pre-prepared container. After placing the container and the corpse into his high-capacity pouch and assuming Onil’s form, the switch was complete.
From this moment on, he was Onil Carmine.
*
"This is too cold!"
On the day of the meeting, Turan ate breakfast with utter confidence, harassing the servants by throwing his stew on the floor just as Onil would have. Even this was a merciful act compared to the original, so the servants cleared the dishes without showing much distress.
After finishing his meal, Turan summoned a few of Onil’s "friends"—more like lackeys—and enjoyed a simple card game, confirming once more that his disguise was flawless.
As the sun began to set and the appointed time arrived, a carriage pulled up in front of Onil’s mansion.
"It is time to attend the meeting, Master."
"I know."
Onil’s butler guided him with a posture as stiff as marble, but Turan’s sharp sense of smell could detect the butler’s profound loathing for Onil. Once Turan boarded, the carriage headed straight for the center of the Carmine district: the residence of the family head.
So far, so good...
According to his experience, while there were several types of magic devices that could detect Zahar’s stealth, none could see through the Mimic Mask. Furthermore, magic devices designed to detect other magic devices generally didn't exist.
As expected, the mysterious barrier installed at the head’s residence didn't trigger any alarms as Turan passed through. When the carriage stopped, Turan opened the door and stepped out.
"Onil? I’m surprised you’re here. I didn't think your father would invite you."
Several Carmine nobles were already in front of the mansion. A middle-aged man addressed Turan with a crooked expression. Based on his data, this was likely Onil’s maternal uncle.
"Yes, Uncle... Father was kind enough to include me."
"Hmm? Since when do you call me 'Uncle'? You used to just call me 'old man'."
It was difficult to capture such minor interpersonal details, so Turan put on an embarrassed expression to brush it off and quickly moved away. Fortunately, since it aligned with Onil’s tendency to be weak before the strong, no one found it suspicious.
A short while later, Turan entered the conference room deep within the residence along with the other Carmine nobles. There were sixteen attendees in total. These were the most powerful members of the Carmine family, which numbered over a hundred.
At the head of the table sat the head of the Carmine family, Lodor Carmine, his sharp eyes gleaming as he looked down at them. He had an intelligent-looking face and a long beard, which gave him a significant air of dignity despite his relatively young age.
So that’s the head of the Carmine...
Turan surmised that the Frea god nicknamed "The Lawyer" resided within him. It was unlikely such a prime host would be given to a subordinate. And in all probability, there were other vessels for gods among the participants of this meeting. Though looking around now, he couldn't tell who they might be.
Soon, the meeting began, and as Turan expected, the topic immediately turned to Arabion.
"How are the war preparations proceeding?"
"The situation is not ideal. The sea routes have been completely cut off for some time now..."
"Furthermore, the winds of the North Sea have recently died down, creating an environment similar to the Southern Sea. This has slowed our ships significantly."
Fortunately, because the Onil Turan was impersonating was young, he didn't need to offer opinions or answer questions. As the discussion continued, the topic he had been waiting for finally came up.
"Lanusa, is there still no contact from the merfolk?"
"No. Starting with the whales, all the mermaid kingdoms are currently refusing to communicate. Even the command of the Blue Coral Crown is not working."
The Blue Coral Crown. That was likely the secret behind how the Carmines had controlled the merfolk. Based on the name, was it some kind of holy relic?
"Tsk. Should we have suppressed that spirit of the Great Sea Serpent the moment it appeared?"
"Was there any other choice? We were facing a critical issue at the time. By the time we finished, the merfolk had already caused a mess."
Turan had wondered why the Carmine nobles hadn't intervened when the spirit of the Great Sea Serpent was rampaging; it seemed they had been occupied with something else. He was curious as to what it was, but he couldn't ask. If it was something Onil was supposed to know, asking would only invite suspicion.
"In any case, if the Blue Coral Crown isn't working, it’s highly likely the merfolk have reclaimed the protection of the ancient Great Sea Serpent. This recent rampage of magical beasts is likely due to that as well. Once the war is concluded, I will settle the matter personally. It would be problematic if we can no longer control the merfolk."
"We are relieved to hear you will step in, My Lord."
Unlike the head of the Arabion family, the Carmine head actively intervened in family affairs. Seeing as the others didn't find it strange, this seemed to be the norm.
As Turan sat there soaking up information, the head suddenly clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention.
"Now that we’ve covered the internal matters, I shall call in our important guest."
"Ah, the one you mentioned...?"
"Yes. Come in!"
At the head’s command, a door on one side of the conference room opened, and a man walked in. He was a mysterious, top-tier noble who had been standing outside throughout the meeting, leading Turan to think he was a guard. He was a middle-aged man with slicked-back black hair, gray eyes, and sharp, somewhat thin features.
Is there a Carmine noble who looks like that?
The Zahar spy data included sketches of the Carmine nobles, but none of them matched this man’s appearance. Was he a secret weapon hidden by the Carmines?
Yet, for some reason, that face didn't feel entirely unfamiliar. He couldn't say exactly who it was, but it felt like someone he had met quite often...
As Turan puzzled over this strange sense of déjà vu, the head introduced the man to the group.
"I believe this is the first time you are all meeting him. To mediate this war, he has come all the way from the distant desert. Please welcome Talis Zahar."