Chapter 125
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 125
To think with one's True Self and open the Spiritual Eye is to gain the ability to see a new world.
Turan, having opened the third eye nestled deep within his skull between the hemispheres of his brain, finally understood the weight of those words.
In the spiritual world, objects did not possess the colors of reality. The sky was a pitch-black void, while the ground and inanimate objects were draped in shades of somber gray. Every living creature within his field of vision writhed with a chaotic, vibrant blend of red, blue, and yellow.
After a moment, Turan turned his gaze inward.
While impossible for physical eyes, the Spiritual Eye allowed him to look into the core of his own being. Deep within his mind sat a minuscule mass. It was far too small to be considered the medium that controlled his massive physical body, yet this was his spirit body—his True Self.
‘I thought I had recovered, but seeing it like this, the cracks are still there. It’s going to take a while longer to heal completely.’
A newly awakened spirit body is typically like a newborn infant, unable to exert much power. Since he had used that very spirit body as an anchor to forcibly reconstruct his crumbling physical form, it wasn't surprising that it had sustained such damage. If anything, he was lucky it was still intact at all.
Fortunately, he had an intuition that these fine cracks weren't permanent; they would mend with sufficient rest.
Looking closer, he saw four symbols etched inside the cracked spirit body: lightning and clouds, darkness and an eye. These were the powers of Arabion and Zahar dwelling within him.
‘I should wait until I’m more used to this... before I try touching those.’
Unlike the Mimic Relic, which he could only observe, he felt he could now actually reach out to those symbols. The way the gods manipulated mystical powers by mixing various symbols was likely based on this spiritual ability.
However, Turan did not rush. As the books repeatedly warned, dealing with the spiritual world required layers of caution—especially in a state as vulnerable as his.
"Phew..."
"What’s with the sigh? Feeling sick?"
"Just thinking."
When Turan deactivated his Spiritual Awareness and sighed against a throbbing headache, Solif approached him. Judging by the tiny Bije clinging to his side, they had just returned from the city. For some reason, Bije was furious, repeatedly pecking at Solif’s neck.
"What is it this time?"
"Did you eat her jerky?"
"Just a little bit on the way back. It was tasty," Solif replied nonchalantly. He acted as if she could peck him all she wanted and walked into the house. Discouraged by his attitude, Bije shrunk back and hopped into Turan’s arms.
"Go easy on him. You’re the greatest Magic Beast King in the world, aren't you, Bije?"
"I’ll make you more. I’ll have to see if there are any spices left."
A short while later, Turan took to the sky with Bije. Unlike before, when she was so small he had to hang onto her legs, she could now increase her size enough for him to ride on her back. Through the sensation transmitted via their Soul Binding, Turan could feel Bije’s immense pride in this fact.
The fact that they could now communicate through thought while both were using Stealth magic was another great achievement. Normally, communication was impossible while under the effects of Stealth.
After quickly catching several rabbits within a few dozen kilometers, Turan butchered them, seasoned them with spices, and used Fluid Manipulation Magic to extract the moisture. In an instant, he had produced high-quality jerky.
"There. Happy?"
Fortunately, the Great Magic Beast King Bije seemed quite pleased with the jerky offering from her humble servant. For some reason, she preferred dried meat over fresh kills—though her absolute favorite remained freshly caught herring.
After preparing Bije’s snacks, they stopped by a small nearby village. People were going about their daily lives as usual. When he activated his Spiritual Awareness, Turan saw a sight quite different from their quiet, uninhabited hideout.
From the ghost of an old man sitting dejectedly, perhaps having died recently, to the spirit of an infant taken by disease, and even a boy’s ghost covered in blood as if mauled by a wild animal—translucent spirits of the dead wandered all over the village.
Watching them, a thought occurred to Turan, and he sent a message to Bije.
Even with Spiritual Awareness, one couldn't see a creature under "Perfect Stealth," but it was possible to see someone using ordinary invisibility magic. Turan looked at Bije’s spirit body revealed through his spiritual eye.
Unlike other humans whose interiors were veiled, he could see four holes inside her. They were shaped similarly to the four bloodlines he possessed. This was likely the element that allowed Bije to borrow Turan’s bloodline abilities—the requirement that made them "compatible."
‘It would be great if I could find more magic beasts that fit like this.’
A magic beast that could manifest bloodline abilities like Solif’s would be the ultimate vanguard, and one that could use Meisa’s abilities would be a massive asset in crafting magic tools.
When Turan returned to the hideout, Meisa was basking in the sun in the garden with sleepy eyes, having apparently finished her latest project.
"Where have you been? You’re still not fully recovered."
"Just a light walk. I got some food for Bije, too. I’m almost all better now, so don't worry."
Only Turan could hear Bije’s voice, but it wasn't hard to recognize her pride as she patted the jerky pouch hanging from her chest. Meisa smiled warmly at the sight and rummaged through her pocket.
"Here, try this on."
"Didn't you push yourself too hard?"
"It was nothing."
What Meisa handed him was a set of clothes similar to the ones Asiz used to give him, but the detailed design reflected her personal taste. Like the gifts from Asiz, they possessed basic self-repair and cleaning functions, but these also had an added function to increase defense by borrowing Solif’s power.
"How is it?"
"It suits you well."
When Turan put the outfit on, a genuine smile spread across Meisa's face.
*
A few days later, feeling his spirit body had recovered, Turan began the process of awakening the Spiritual Awareness of Solif and Meisa. It was a delicate task, similar to helping a young bird break out of its shell. If he applied too much external force before they were ready, their spirits would emerge immature and damaged.
Turan carefully made contact from the outside, guiding their awakening. Fortunately, as recorded in the Soul Magic Book, awakening a soul was relatively easy under the guidance of a Precursor.
Meisa, who had already been making rapid progress, took a week. Even Solif, who was a bit slower, succeeded in opening his Spiritual Eye in ten days.
"So this is why having a guide is important."
"If Turan hadn't opened his eyes first, I think it would have taken us forever on our own."
Solif rubbed his temples, his head clearly aching. Unlike Turan, their spirit bodies were still incredibly immature. They had to strain just to maintain their spiritual vision and couldn't keep the state active for long.
Turan surmised that he had gained a stronger spirit body through the process of it being damaged and then recovering—much like how muscles grow stronger after being torn.
The comparison was apt. Just as physical training leads to soreness, the process of the spirit body being taxed and repaired allowed one to maintain Spiritual Awareness for longer periods.
At first, they struggled to maintain it for more than ten seconds, but with steady practice, they improved. Once they could keep it active for over a minute, they began practicing basic techniques like Clairvoyance—moving the spirit body to see distant objects—and Remote Touch—feeling the texture of objects without physical contact.
Meanwhile, Turan stayed one step ahead. He would summon the Librarian from the jewelry box and make direct contact to learn the nuances of manipulating the spirit body.
"How does it feel, Elder?"
"Strange. A bit... creepy, even."
The Librarian, making direct contact with another spirit body for the first time in his existence by shaking hands, grimaced. Of course, Turan could sense that this was just his way of expressing awkwardness. After all, the Librarian requested more handshakes afterward.
After learning how to interact with spirits, Turan practiced handling the soul fragments dormant in the jewelry box. He wasn't yet capable of advanced tasks like the Librarian—delving into them to analyze internal information—but he could see faint, blurry afterimages.
[...Me... Aram...]
[Going... Thank you...!]
The world within the afterimages consisted of sights Turan had never seen. Towering skyscrapers, dust so thick the sky was invisible, and multicolored beams of light embroidering the night. These landscapes were likely remnants of the Old Empire where the gods once lived.
Once he reached that stage, he waited for his companions to catch up while attempting a few more things. He tried techniques considered "unorthodox" in the Soul Magic Book, such as suppressing and manipulating the souls of living creatures—he nearly died doing that and had to endure a lecture from the Librarian—and he tested whether a bloodline specialized for melee or ranged combat was better at handling souls.
During this, he discovered another surprising fact.
"How is it?"
"It’s certain. My spiritual power feels much stronger when the Nagin bloodline is active."
In the past, while killing the fallen god Ymir, Turan had absorbed the power of the Nagin bloodline from Ymir's vessel, Meisa’s brother Renod. It contained the power to dominate living beings and weave together the souls of humans and magic beasts. Since neither had seemed particularly useful, it was originally the first candidate to be discarded.
Surprisingly, however, activating the Nagin bloodline strengthened his spirit body and made it easier to manipulate. He suspected that his power to dominate souls was being amplified.
"Come to think of it, we did talk about that before. Whether the power of a Ruler bloodline could be used to command spirits."
"I didn't expect it to work like this, though."
"Maybe life-domination magic is fundamentally related to manipulating souls."
If so, it was no coincidence that Turan, who was most proficient in life domination, was also skilled at handling souls. The reason the Nagin family was tied to the seemingly inefficient combination of Ruler and Tamer bloodlines might be for this very reason.
By the time Meisa and Solif had caught up to Turan’s progress, the three of them began leaving the hideout every night to visit the cemeteries of distant villages. Their next task was to make contact with ghosts.
"Uh, hello? Old man?"
[Hruuugh—]
"He doesn't seem to be in a very good mood."
Solif shrugged after trying to talk to an old man’s ghost and receiving only a hollow groan. These ghosts, perceivable through Spiritual Awareness, were different from any spirit body existing in traditional Spirit Arts. They weren't Living Spirits, they weren't Undead, and they certainly weren't Spirits of nature.
[Uuugh... Sad... Ness...]
Occasionally, there were ghosts who could speak, but even they were incapable of meaningful conversation, merely spewing out intense emotions from their past lives. It was a pitiful sight.
"No, maybe it’s for the best."
"Huh?"
"Nothing, just talking to myself."
Turan shook his head at Solif’s question. When he confirmed he could see ghosts, he had secretly visited the sheep ranch and his mother’s grave. But Vizella’s ghost appeared in neither place.
‘Usually, only those who died within the last three or four years appear as ghosts.’
According to the magic book, it varied depending on factors like lingering resentment or spiritual talent. It was highly likely that Vizella’s soul had already dissipated long ago.
Considering that these ghosts were essentially just the dregs of a past life—and considering that her appearance right before death wasn't pleasant—it might be a relief that they didn't meet.
And yet, Turan still wanted to see his mother one more time. Regardless of being viewed as an object of awe by many, he was still just a young man of twenty-one.
*
About a month later, the three of them had finally reached their original goal: moving and interacting with the symbols within themselves.
"How’s it going?"
"Not at all. I don't have a clue. How are a sun and a shield supposed to mix, anyway?"
"How should I know?"
At least Meisa could try to emulate the form of the person Turan had seen in the past—the head of the Arabion family, the Thunder Lord. She hadn't produced a result yet, but her direction was clear.
The problem was Turan and Solif. They couldn't even grasp how their symbols should interact. Moreover, moving the symbols themselves was exhausting, limiting their practice.
"Hmm..."
"Maybe putting the sun inside the shield?"
"Then the person holding the shield would get burned. Wouldn't it be better if sunlight radiated from the shield?"
While they were discussing ideas, Turan felt a presence and reached his hand upward. Bije appeared out of nowhere, landing skillfully on his palm.
"Back already?"
"Did Asiz give you something tasty again today?"
Bije, who could now use Stealth, moved in and out of the Berk family estate with ease. She stopped by every few weeks to exchange letters, and each time she returned, her belly was usually full.
Bije spoke in a dejected tone as she held out the letter tied to her ankle. Her belly did look a bit hollow today. What kind of urgent matter was it that he sent her back without even feeding her?
"Let’s see..."
Turan had barely opened the letter when he let out a low groan.
"It looks like it’s time for us to leave."
"Why?"
"Asiz’s brother has been kidnapped."
Solif and Meisa’s faces hardened. The change in Meisa’s expression was particularly striking; she cherished Asiz as her own kin.
"...The culprit?"
Meisa’s voice was low and thin, but it held a razor-sharp murderous intent. Turan tapped the table lightly, waiting for her to calm down before speaking.
"To be precise, even Asiz doesn't know. He only heard that his brother was kidnapped on his way back from delivering goods to the Arabion main house."
"Then..."
"Well, there are plenty of candidates. Arabion, who might be spiteful toward the Berk family because of Meisa’s escape; Carmine, who might want to cut off the supply of magic tools before the war; or even Zahar, acting as mercenaries for either side..."
Of course, it didn't matter which side the culprit was on. The Berk family were Turan’s friends, and whoever targeted them would soon have to face his wrath.