Chapter 119
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 119
Among scholars and those who pride themselves on their education, it is common knowledge that the world is round.
The existence of the horizon alone suggests as much, and theories regarding the shape of the world have existed in various astronomical texts passed down since the days of the Old Empire.
And yet, there is no record of anyone ever traveling to one end of the world and circling back to the other. This is because the world is hemmed in by four types of natural barriers.
To the north, beyond the North Sea and the frozen wastes, lies the Snow Cloud Zone.
It consists of bottomless snow that acts much like a swamp, making it impossible to traverse by foot or by ship. A few mages from Arabion once attempted to fly across it; even by pairing up and taking turns carrying one another for days, they were forced to retreat without ever seeing the end. Naturally, those who failed to gauge their mana or physical limits and pushed too far never made it back alive.
To the east lies the Mist Plains.
As the name suggests, a fog so thick you cannot see your own hand blankets everything from the ground to the sky. Anyone who enters loses their sense of direction instantly. One might think it possible to break through by using ropes and stakes to maintain a heading, but this, too, has its limits.
The limit is approximately twenty-four hours.
After that much time passes, every stake driven into the ground, every rope laid out, and every mark carved into the earth vanishes completely. Once that happens, one can only wander in circles, struggling in vain to find a way out of the mist.
To the south, beyond the Southern Sea, lies the Endless Sea.
No matter how far one sails, nothing but open water stretches out, with not a single island in sight. If a ship sails south for weeks and then turns its bow back north, it returns to its starting point with unnatural speed.
Long ago, a certain family set out on a magically enchanted ship loaded with enough supplies to circle the world twice. Four years later, only eight survivors returned. They testified that they had survived by fishing and drinking rainwater while sailing south for four years. After most of the crew had starved to death, the survivors killed the captain and turned the ship north—only to return to their departure island in a mere two days.
And finally, to the west stand the Sky Mountains.
The range rises so high it can be seen clearly from over a thousand kilometers away, blocking the horizon like a colossal wall. Its peaks are so high that even winged beasts give up on crossing, finding the air too cold and thin to breathe.
From these descriptions alone, it is clear that many adventurers who attempted to explore beyond these barriers met gruesome ends. Naturally, Turan’s suggestion that they cross one of them met with immediate resistance.
“Wait, didn't you say before that it was too dangerous and we should give up on the idea?”
“That was when we were much weaker than we are now. If anything, aren't you the one whose mind has changed?”
“Well, that’s true, but… Meisa, what about you?”
“I don’t mind,” Meisa answered firmly.
Solif looked back and forth between the two of them and shook his head. In fact, back when the three of them were exploring the North Sea in search of magical beasts, it had been Solif who suggested going beyond the Sky Mountains. At the time, Turan had been the one to argue that they should postpone it for another time since it was unknown territory.
The reason their perspectives had suddenly flipped was simple.
“Back then, I thought it was worth a try because it was just the three of us… but how can we take my parents into such a dangerous place?”
“I’m not saying we take them with us right away.”
“Then what?”
“First, we’ll have them stay in a village near the Sky Mountains while we cross over ourselves. Once we’ve confirmed it’s safe enough, we can bring them over. Simple as that.”
“Hmm.”
Thinking it might be feasible after all, Solif, who had been vehemently opposing the idea, let out a groan and nodded.
Solif’s father, Godis, who had been listening quietly, stepped forward.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but how can I let my son and his friends go on such a dangerous expedition for our sake?”
“It isn't necessarily as dangerous as you might think,” Turan explained calmly.
He pointed out that the adventurers who had previously attempted to explore these 'barriers' were, at best, mid-to-high-ranking nobles. This was natural, as the heads of Great Families or the few top-tier mages rarely felt the need to risk their lives on such whims.
“Furthermore, looking at the cases in other regions, it’s highly likely that it isn't that dangerous as long as one doesn't overextend.”
In the Snow Cloud Zone, one simply had to turn back while they still had the strength to fly home. In the Endless Sea, as soon as supplies ran low, turning around brought one back to safety quickly. The Mist Zone was safe as long as one returned within a day.
If one analyzed the stories carefully, there were no malicious traps designed to kill those who entered without reason. There were only those who, unable to give up, kept bashing their heads against the wall until they collapsed from exhaustion.
“That is…”
“At the very least, it won't be more dangerous than a Zahar noble paying a surprise visit in the middle of the night, will it?”
A heavy silence fell over the cave at Turan’s words. It was already known that several Zahar nobles had been at the Baraha stronghold, and one of them was even a candidate for succession. They had to consider the possibility that the Zahars would send pursuers to harm Solif or his parents.
“Of course, I’ve removed all the mediums they could use to track us, but we can’t ignore even the smallest possibility. Even if we can’t cross the barrier, that region itself isn't a bad place for a hideout.”
It wasn't for nothing that Turan’s mother, Vizella, had settled on Hisaril Hill in the past. It was the place among those permitted to humanity where the influence of the Great Families was weakest and the furthest point from the Zahar stronghold.
In truth, Turan estimated the chances of successfully scouting beyond the Sky Mountains at about fifty-fifty; making the area around Hisaril Hill their hideout was actually his primary plan.
Then, Meisa, who had been listening, asked, “If it’s the Zahar Family Head, could he track us even there?”
“If he has a medium. But even for him, it won't be easy to find the courage to come in person. Especially after seeing what happened to Baraha.”
The raid just last night was a prime example of why the head of a Great Family should never leave their stronghold lightly. Such a catastrophe would never have occurred if the Family Head had been present. Therefore, Turan believed that even if Zahar secured their location, they would likely send one of their powerful nobles instead. Most likely, his grandfather Talis or a possessed vessel of a similar caliber would lead the effort.
After another hour of deliberation, the plan was set. Their first objective was to reach Turan’s hometown, Hisaril Hill, and the second was to scout the Sky Mountains beyond it to find a suitable hideout.
*
The following evening, after resting during the day to fully recover their strength, Turan’s group moved north. They avoided going directly west because that led toward the Enril Desert, the land of Zahar. It was better to stay as far away from there as possible.
They utilized Bije’s power for transport. Since the swing had been modified to seat three, Solif’s family rode on it while Turan and Meisa used flight magic to move alongside them. Turan, who could use stealth magic, always took the lead to scout the surroundings, with the main group following behind.
“Any sign of a perimeter?”
“Doesn't seem like it.”
“I suppose it would be a burden for them to move an army carelessly in this region, since it borders the Ruban Family.”
The Ruban Family, situated in the northeast of the world, was the only Great Family specialized in physical combat, possessing both the Strength-bearer and Guardian bloodlines. According to Ymir, the god who ruled them was nicknamed 'The Junkie.' Since that god rarely interacted with others, they didn't have to worry much about cooperation between the families.
“Did you designate this as the gathering point expecting all this?”
“Not entirely, but to some extent.”
Solif looked at Turan as if he were looking at a monster. In truth, Turan’s desire to visit the Arena located here was a bigger factor, but he didn't bother saying that. It was better to look like a genius strategist who had predicted everything.
“By the way, should I have made the swing a bit larger?”
“If it’s too big, maneuverability drops and it’s easier to spot from below. It would be harder to hide, like we are now.”
While Turan and Meisa flew close together, Solif’s family wasn't just idling. Being of the Sun bloodline, they could manipulate light, so they distorted it to ensure the group remained invisible from the ground. Of course, compared to Zahar’s stealth, it was a terribly inefficient technique that was difficult to maintain for long periods. They wouldn't have attempted it if they weren't already at the edge of Baraha’s lands, with only a few hours of flight ahead of them.
After flying for about half a day, the surrounding trees gradually began to shift toward conifers. They had left the Land of the Five Lakes and reached the Frostwind Forest, a region of coniferous forests and plateaus.
“We can take it a bit easier from here.”
“The Frostwind Forest… I’ve only heard stories, but this is my first time seeing it.”
“You’ve never been here?”
Solif nodded at Turan’s question.
“Only heard about it. Our side and theirs aren't exactly on friendly terms. Father, Mother, you haven't been here either, right?”
“No.”
“This is my first time leaving the Land of the Five Lakes. It feels like an adventure, so I’m a bit nervous.”
Solif’s mother, Romi, chuckled and covered her mouth.
By the time the Baraha lands were completely out of sight, they descended to the ground to walk, giving Bije a chance to rest. While the Baraha couple admired the tundra-like forest, the three young mages began a serious analysis of the Soul Magic Book.
First, it took a considerable amount of time just to explain the meanings of various terms to Meisa, who hadn't seen the book yet.
“It’s complicated…”
“I wouldn't have understood it properly either if the Librarian hadn't interpreted it for me. To be honest, I’m still not sure if I truly understand it now.”
As he said, the Soul Magic Book was half-philosophical text. Compared to the bloodline magic they typically used—which was a physical, intuitive ability that interfered with natural laws—this was infinitely abstract and vague. However, this was the very power they needed to stand against those mighty gods.
The three of them immersed themselves in analyzing the book’s contents with passion.
“First, the foundation is awakening Spiritual Awareness through meditation. The related herbs are strictly supplementary…”
“The problem is whether those herbs would even work on our bodies,” Solif noted.
As Solif said, there was no chance that ordinary psychotropic drugs would affect their bodies. And if they drained their mana enough for the medicine to work, they might actually die.
“Let’s obtain them anyway. Even if we can’t use them, we might be able to find subordinates among commoners to teach this to.”
“Ah, so you’ll train a commoner until they’re skilled and then make them your teacher?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
It was not at all humiliating for a shepherd to let the sheep lead the way to find a path. The sheep often knew the secret mountain trails or the areas with the most grass better than the shepherd. Similarly, soul magic intended for ordinary humans might be easier for commoners to learn. Of course, since it was dangerous, they would have to find people who deserved to die to practice it. There were plenty of such people in the world anyway.
As they moved northwest while researching soul magic, Turan’s group encountered no interference. Even though everyone except Turan had only lightly covered their heads with hoods and hadn't properly disguised themselves, they were left alone. It seemed the Baraha nobles hadn't requested cooperation for a pursuit in this area, or if they had, the Ruban family was simply ignoring it.
Thanks to this, instead of scurrying through deserted areas like fugitives, they passed through moderately sized villages and cities, enjoying quality lodging and meals.
In a tavern-cum-restaurant in a small city, Solif’s mother, Romi, reached out with a handkerchief and wiped the corner of her son’s mouth.
“Honestly, you’re this old and still so messy.”
“Ah, Mom…”
Seeing Solif—who, despite his silly antics, was the eldest of the group—being treated like a baby felt strange. Turan and Meisa caught each other’s eyes and burst into laughter simultaneously.
“What are you laughing at?”
“It’s just nice to see.”
“Yeah.”
The two of them, who had both lost their mothers for different reasons, felt a strange vicarious satisfaction watching Solif receive such maternal love. Of course, Solif’s face was contorted as he watched his two 'younger siblings' grin at him.
*
Their journey, which was far too relaxed to be called a flight from danger, reached its sixth day. After alternating between flying and walking, they had crossed more than half of the Frostwind Forest.
During their journey, they veered slightly from their northwest course to head west. They had heard news that a landmark they wanted to visit was not far away.
As the sun reached its zenith, Turan’s group stood before a massive structure.
“Is that it?”
“It’s huge…”
“Between this and the library, I guess people in the Old Empire thought building everything massive was the height of style.”
As Solif muttered, the ancient Imperial Arena before them was gargantuan. It was about fifty meters high and perhaps ninety meters long. Marble pillars supported it on both sides, and dozens of arched openings were packed together, making it look like a honeycomb.
There were two main reasons they had stopped at this Arena.
The first was to gain practical combat experience. While all three had more combat experience than most other nobles, they lacked experience fighting against other top-tier nobles. They sparred with each other occasionally, but that was never the same as a real fight.
Turan, surprisingly, was the one with the most significant issue in this regard. He had only recently acquired top-tier mana, and because he often had to hide his identity, he frequently fought without being able to exert his full power. His goal was to learn how to properly utilize every tool at his disposal.
And there was a second reason, perhaps even more important than the first: the near-death experience.
One of the primary methods mentioned in the Soul Magic Book for awakening Spiritual Awareness was to go to the brink of death and return. There was no better place to achieve this than an Arena where one could die without actually dying. Of course, they would have to experiment to see if such a loophole would work.
If they had to go far out of their way to reach this place, they would have waited for another opportunity, but fortunately, the Arena was right on the path toward the North Sea, so it didn't cost them much time.
“But why is the surrounding area so pathetic?” Solif remarked as he looked around the Arena from a low hill.
As he said, unlike the Orem Library or the Tomb of the Gods, the environment around this Arena was visibly poor. There was only a single small village attached to it.
“It’s probably because there’s no water source.”
“Aha.”
For a city to be established, a large amount of drinking water is required. Unlike the other structures mentioned, there appeared to be no water source nearby capable of supplying a city. To make matters worse, the elevation was quite high, making it difficult to pipe water in from elsewhere. While they could have forced a city into existence by building a massive aqueduct or extracting vast amounts of groundwater, it seemed they hadn't felt it was worth the effort.
As they entered the village next to the Arena while chatting, Turan let out an exclamation at the presences he felt.
“Oh.”
“What is it?”
“There are a ton of mages. Looks like at least a hundred knights and about twenty nobles.”
“That’s insane. That’s practically an army.”
Considering the village only had about a hundred and fifty buildings, it was a freakish number. Naturally, most of them were visitors from far away who had come to use the Arena.
“Next!”
“Let’s go.”
“Wait, it should be my turn!”
“This gentleman is first, so wait your turn in the back!”
“Tsk…”
The front of the Arena was crowded with over a hundred knights and nobles. A single knight was shouting at the top of his lungs, directing the high-and-mighty nobles with hand gestures. Judging by the symbol of a clenched fist and shield on his inner self, he seemed to be under the direct management of the Ruban family. Perhaps that was why even the nobles didn't dare treat him poorly despite him being a knight.
Turan scanned the symbols of the gathered knights and nobles and couldn't help but let out a dry laugh.
Pyromaniac, Earthkeeper, Shoal, Berserker…
There were all sorts of common bloodlines, as well as those from Great Families with mixed bloodlines—specifically, Zahar and Arabion. Seeing as they were quite young and their mana wasn't particularly impressive, they were likely out on a pilgrimage. They didn't seem to know each other’s identities and paid little attention to one another.
After observing how people used the Arena for a few minutes, Turan approached the administrator.
“Registering two.”
“That will be a hundred gold coins.”
As expected of such a useful place, the usage fee was outrageously expensive. Using this place ten times would cost enough to buy a decent sailing ship. Of course, Turan’s current wealth was not something that would be dented by such a cost, so he didn't hesitate to hand over the money.
Taking the nameplates, Turan sat in the waiting room with his companions and looked at one of the walls. Several illusions of people currently dueling were being projected there.
Meisa pointed at one screen. “Look at that one. A Pyromaniac and… I think a Strength-bearer.”
“It’s completely one-sided.”
Against the Pyromaniac’s strategy of constantly retreating while lobbing fireballs, the Strength-bearer tried to move nimbly and close the distance, but was repeatedly beaten back. It was a clear demonstration of why physical combat bloodlines had failed to secure territories and had fallen behind.
They spent a few minutes watching the duels with rapt attention. When a shout announced that a spot had opened up, they headed toward it. A commoner guarding the entrance gave a polite explanation.
“If you channel mana into these two orbs, you will be transported to the dueling space. When one side dies or admits defeat, you will be returned. If you press this button in the center to turn the light red, you can prevent others from spectating your duel.”
“Is there a limit of once per day?”
“Yes. To be precise, anyone who meets death once is restricted from using it for a day. This is not a house rule, but a function of the Arena itself, so please forgive us…”
Perhaps because the customers here were at least knights, the commoner continued his explanation with a servile attitude.
After hearing the full explanation, Turan placed his hand on one of the orbs and looked at his opponent. As Meisa grasped the orb on the opposite side, both of their bodies vanished.