Chapter 130
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 130
Naturally, the Arabion mages didn't immediately applaud or agree with Turan’s claims.
They had been briefed beforehand that their target, Turan, was a disgraced bastard of the Zahar family—a man who had seduced the main house's heir while hiding his identity in a desperate, pathetic bid for recognition.
"What a load of absolute bullshit..." one spat.
"If the leadership of the main house are White Elves, shouldn't we be checking if the woman next to you has normal ears? Or what, were you sired by someone other than the House Head?"
Turan, however, remained unfazed by their vitriol. He calmly continued his explanation, detailing the irrational treatment Meisa had received from the Arabion leadership in the past. He laid out various instances of corruption and slander within the family that had already been made public, skillfully misdirecting them from his true purpose.
When Solif, claiming his status as the heir of Baraha, added his testimony that similar incidents had plagued his own family, the mages' cynical expressions began to shift toward grim seriousness.
After a relentless barrage of such deceptive words, someone finally voiced their agreement.
"Now that I hear it, there are... suspicious things," a voice muttered.
Unexpectedly, the speaker was a vassal of the Frost Bloodline who, until moments ago, had been Turan’s most vocal critic. Being over two hundred and fifty years old, he had known several Arabion executives, including Kadram, since his youth.
"I did feel that some of the nobles in the main house had changed—their personalities, the way they spoke. At the time, I just dismissed it as the natural change that comes with age."
But hearing Turan’s words made that lingering sense of dissonance impossible to ignore. After all, how many times could they have pulled this off successfully? If there were more than three or four such imposters inside the house, it was impossible for none of them to show signs.
Hearing this from a comrade they had fought alongside—someone far older and more experienced than themselves—suspicion began to cloud the faces of the other mages.
Turan added one final lie to seal the deal.
"Furthermore, didn't you see the technique Kadram and that nameless Nagin mage showed earlier? That is the secret art of the White Elves."
He explained that the nature of that special magic was a wicked craft combining Spirit Arts and sorcery, usable only when a White Elf had successfully usurped a human body. Surprisingly, it was a lie that aligned fairly well with the truth, as the magic did indeed utilize the power of the soul.
Then, one of the Arabion mages tilted his head, frowning. "But didn't you perform a similar trick?"
As high-ranking mages with extensive knowledge, they couldn't help but point out that Turan had also wielded a bizarre, shifting power just like their enemies.
Turan nodded, offering an excuse he had concocted on the spot. "That is because of a Holy Relic I possess."
"A Holy Relic...?"
"It has the ability to mimic an opponent's power. Didn't you see the magic I used earlier?"
Before their eyes, Turan demonstrated Flight, Stealth, and Judgment Light. He then showcased the complex earth manipulation of the Earthkeeper Bloodline and the Tamer ability originating from the Nagin Bloodline. Since one of the mages was contracted with a magical beast, Turan even demonstrated his point by severing and then instantly reconnecting that contract.
Seeing him freely manipulate five or six different bloodline abilities—not just one or two—they had no choice but to believe him.
Watching this, Solif whispered, "Is it really okay to show your hand like this?"
"The Arabion side already realized I have the power of a mimic," Turan replied quietly. "I've gained all the advantage I could from hiding it."
"I guess that's true..."
Besides, everything worth showing had already been revealed in the heat of battle. The mastermind behind the Arabion-Nagin faction would likely receive all the necessary information through Ymir, who had escaped alive. Since Turan had bound Kadram’s soul, they would also learn that he could now manipulate souls directly.
After weaving a few more persuasive stories, Turan judged that the time was ripe. He personally released the mages from their restraints.
His calculation was simple: if they were trustworthy, the seeds of doubt had already been planted; if they were the type who would never believe him, there was no point in keeping them tied up.
"Wait, you're just... letting us go?"
"First, return to the main house and consult with your families," Turan said. "You may spread this story far and wide, or keep it a secret among those you trust. Just remember one thing: that this is a possibility."
His attitude—not stubbornly insisting his words were the absolute truth, but acting as if it didn't matter whether they believed him or not—actually made him far more persuasive.
Amidst the dazed crowd, one noble spoke in a tone of despair. "But if what you say is true, what can we possibly do?"
While it was a mage's duty to oppose other races, they couldn't dare to dream of standing against the upper echelons of the Great House Arabion if the leadership was compromised. Even the god-like House Head of Arabion, Badal, was said to be involved. No matter how powerful the young nobles before them were, they were not enough to face such a titan.
"Even a House Head is not invincible," Turan countered. "If they were, they wouldn't have bothered forming a faction to hide behind. Each individual may be weak, but the power of those gathered is not."
Of course, most of the surviving mages were nobles and mid-to-high-tier experts—hardly "weak" people. However, those words resonated deeply now. They had felt it in their bones during the previous battle—how they were mere extras, swept away like common knights. Everyone wants to feel like they have weight, like they are important.
And so, Turan planted the seeds of rebellion within Arabion.
*
Before letting the Arabion mages go, Turan’s group allowed those whose mana hadn't reached its limit to absorb the mana of the lower-ranking nobles. Turan figured that absorbing the power of such weaklings wouldn't help him in the slightest, so he might as well show some "generosity."
Naturally, the mana of the three top-tier mages and the mythic-grade magical beast was entirely claimed by Turan’s inner circle.
Since the efficiency of absorbing mana from weaker individuals decreases as one grows stronger, Meisa saw almost no progress. Solif gained a little, Turan gained a fair amount, and Bije achieved a significant level of growth.
After salvaging a few undamaged magic tools, they retrieved Melo, who had been hidden in a distant dugout, and returned to Zabilin City.
The Berk estate was chaotic in the early dawn as the heir returned.
"The young master...!"
"I'll go fetch the House Head immediately!"
Despite the knight's shout, the Berk couple and the family's executives had already spent the night wide awake with worry.
"Me—Meisa... No, Meisa. Is it really you?"
"Yes, Aunt. It's me."
"Your voice is the same. Yes, it really is you..."
The Berk couple’s emotional reunion with the restored Meisa was brief, as more urgent matters required attention—specifically, the treatment of the severely injured Turan and Solif. Fortunately, the young healer Lua Manag, who had treated Solif in the past, was staying there as a guest and could provide assistance.
The problem was...
"Is this the best you can do?" Meisa asked, her voice tight.
"Yes..."
Lua, her hands hovering over Turan’s shredded chest, nodded while breaking into a cold sweat. Although the wounds were visibly closing, the process was agonizingly slow.
"I can't fully heal this with my power... especially since his lungs are damaged. You'll need a more powerful healer."
Of course, given a noble's inherent resilience, he wouldn't drop dead from a lung injury, but he would have to endure decreased physical performance until he fully recovered. To fix this, it seemed he would have to visit the Lavitas family again soon.
After stabilizing their conditions, they discussed Melo’s kidnapping and the events in the forest. Surprisingly, the Berk family executives were already well-informed, as Asiz had already persuaded them to dispatch reinforcements.
"Asiz."
"I—I'm sorry, Turan. I was just so worried..."
"It's fine. It turned out okay in the end. But don't do it again."
Since he would have had to tell them anyway to gain their cooperation, Turan figured it had saved some time. He supplemented the parts Asiz had forgotten or omitted and then clearly conveyed the gravity of the situation.
"It is no longer safe to stay here in Zabilin City."
"Mmm..."
Though they groaned, no one opposed him. The family's heir had been kidnapped and returned severely injured. As a prestigious family that had been settled in this city for over a thousand years, many were reluctant to leave, but staying meant a direct confrontation with the Great House Arabion. And according to Turan, the Nagin family would likely join the hunt.
"So if we leave, where do we go?"
"I recommend Kalamaph."
The place Turan proposed was Kalamaph—a neutral city in the Gray Zone, situated between the territories of Arabion and Zahar. It was a place Turan himself had once ruled, and it was currently governed by Zahar nobles impersonating his identity.
"Isn't that place a bit... ambiguous?"
"That's exactly what I'm aiming for. As I mentioned before, Arabion and Zahar were once allies, but they have since split. Of course, if they find out I'm the reason for that, the story might change... but that depends on how we persuade Zahar."
Actually, his first thought had been to send the Berk family to the hideout where Solif’s parents were, but the Berk family was too large. It was impossible to hide the traces of over a hundred people, even in a remote wilderness. Furthermore, taking only a few Berk executives was out of the question due to their strong bonds with the family's knights and servants. Those left behind would undoubtedly face cruel retaliation.
Thus, the alternative was to become a third force and balance the scales between the two Great Houses, Arabion and Zahar. In the past, this would have been impossible, but the current Turan was confident he could pull it off.
I've significantly weakened Arabion's strength in this fight, and I've learned how to bind the souls of the gods. Plus, I can soon teach Meisa how to handle the magic of the gods... If I can just persuade Zahar, it's entirely possible.
Of course, if the House Heads of the Great Houses attacked en masse, they would be overwhelmed, but Turan saw that as unlikely. Hadn't the House Head of Baraha recently paid a heavy price for leaving his stronghold? If they truly marched here, Turan planned to ride Bije to their strongholds and launch a counterattack. If they ended up losing the homes their souls were supposed to return to, no one would dare leave their seats empty again.
After three more hours of discussion, the Berk family announced their intention to immediately relocate. Turan bowed his head in gratitude to House Head Midella.
"Thank you for accepting."
"We are the ones who should be grateful," Midella replied. "You showed us the truth we didn't want to see but needed to, and you've even shown us the path forward..."
Regardless of him being her son's friend, Turan had become a powerhouse on par with the House Head of a Great House. Thus, Midella spoke to him with formal respect, lowering herself as she returned the bow. While a prestigious noble family of the Enchanter Bloodline was respected, the logic of power was ultimately absolute.
"Then let's move immediately. We don't know when Arabion will reach out again."
*
The Berk family's migration proceeded faster than expected. Since they already had many wagons prepared for transporting magic tools, the family's hoard of devices was loaded in heaps.
"What? You're leaving Zabilin?"
"Please don't abandon us, My Lord!"
"Young Master Asiz!"
Having ruled Zabilin City for over a thousand years as benevolent sovereigns, the citizens wept as they tried to dissuade the family. The sensitive Asiz sobbed loudly while hugging a commoner girl he didn't even know.
"Anyone who wishes to follow may do so! However, it will be a long and arduous journey, so be prepared!"
The Berk family's servants and knights all decided to follow without exception, but naturally, none of the other commoners followed after hearing those words.
And so, the group of about two hundred people exited through the south gate of Zabilin City and moved onto the main road.
"It's been a while, Tilly."
When Turan greeted and stroked the massive horse, it let out a loud neigh. Tilly, the Berk family's horse magical beast—the creature Turan had first met while saving Asiz—was now pulling an incredibly massive wagon. It was a reinforced wagon made with magic tools, of a size and weight that only a powerful beast like Tilly could dare to pull.
"Bije, do you want to say hello too?"
— This one is too weak! If he becomes my subordinate, I'll have to train him!
Bije, who had shrunk to the size of a kestrel, spoke in an arrogant tone while perched on Tilly’s forehead. After winning an aerial battle against four of Arabion's high-ranking mages, Bije’s pride was soaring through the clouds—especially since she had grown even stronger after absorbing the mana of several top-tier mages.
"Right, right. You're the boss, so take good care of him."
Of course, since Tilly couldn't understand those words, he simply pulled the wagon without caring about the bird sitting on the bridge of his nose.
The Berk family's migration procession was incomparably faster than that of ordinary people. This was thanks to many of the commoner servants riding in the wagon pulled by Tilly or being carried by the knights. They had discarded most of their heavy luggage, and what remained was stored in high-capacity pouches by Turan’s group.
Thanks to this, they were able to move over four hundred kilometers in just two days, quickly reaching the southeastern valley of the Dakein Plains.
Meisa looked back toward the north, where the Arabion main house was located, and spoke softly. "They're not chasing as fast as I thought."
"They probably have a lot on their minds right now," Turan replied. "They'll need to figure out why the excessive force they deployed was completely crushed, and they'll have to control the information I leaked to the survivors."
Turan had released the survivors specifically for this result. The more internal chaos there was, the harder it would be for them to project power outward. Furthermore, the fact that Kadram’s soul hadn't returned likely gave them pause. Their mindset was that if things went wrong, they could just die and return—but now it had been revealed that they might not be able to. Considering that thousands of years of peaceful life wouldn't have grown their courage, they were likely fighting over who should be the next to risk their life.
"Um, Lord Turan."
Just then, Melo, the heir of the Berk family, spoke to him. Having regained consciousness a day after his rescue, he still seemed strangely intimidated by Turan. Remembering how powerful the Arabion nobles who had kidnapped and abused him were, he guessed that Turan’s power, which had driven them away, must be immense. Like Midella, he found it difficult to treat Turan casually as just his younger brother's friend.
"Yes, please speak."
"Could you speak more comfortably... More importantly, it looks like we're about to reach the mountain boundary. What should we do now?"
Normally, to get from the Dakein Plains to the Gray Zone, one had to head straight south through the forest region and then move east. This was because moving southeast would lead to a mountain range blocking the way between the Gray Zone, the Dakein Plains, and the Carmine Hills. While this mountain range didn't boast the impossible height of the Sky Mountains, it was still not something a refugee procession could hope to cross.
Of course, Turan wasn't an idiot who insisted on this path just because it was the shortest distance on the map.
"We arrived faster than expected. From here on, let's fly over."
"Fly over...?"
We're not Arabion nobles, so how on earth... Melo thought, but a moment later, his eyes widened.
He saw the form of a massive golden eagle standing at the head of the refugee procession.
"Shall we put in some effort, Bije?"
The enlarged Bije let out a mighty roar that shook the valley, her voice no longer thin, but thunderous.