Chapter 143
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 143
The rise of the newly established House Parsha naturally drew the attention of every neighboring family.
While Turan had killed or exiled most of the spies whose knight- or noble-level mana had tripped his senses, a lucky few managed to slip through his net. They spread the word by any means possible—dispatching carrier pigeons or racing away on mounted magical beasts.
As a result, congratulatory messages began arriving from nearby families shortly after the name was officially declared, even before Turan could send out his own messengers.
During a brief respite, the three leaders gathered for the first time in a while. Meisa tossed a letter aside and sighed.
“We definitely need a proper intelligence network. At this rate, we’re flying blind.”
The fastest and simplest solution was for Turan to scout personally while riding Bije, but that was merely a stopgap. If the head of a Great House were constantly restless and on the move, he would not only lose the trust of his vassals but also find it impossible to respond to sudden strikes like the one they had just endured.
While his recent excursion had been necessary and fruitful, he needed to exercise restraint from now on.
Naturally, House Parsha wasn't sitting idle. Whenever he had a spare moment, Turan used his Tamer bloodline to capture and break the relatively docile magical beasts around Kalamaf, turning them into mounts. Meanwhile, Meisa worked on refining her communication magic devices into a more user-friendly form.
Finally, Solif was designing a beacon system around Kalamaf, modeled after the one House Baraha took such pride in.
“For now, the beacons seem to be working well enough. Our original problem was a lack of knights to station at them, but our numbers have grown significantly lately.”
“That’s a relief,” Turan nodded at Solif’s report.
Since they lacked nobles of the Illusion bloodline, they couldn't transmit information as quickly or clearly as Baraha, but given the relatively small area they covered, the method was worth adopting.
“Well, that’s enough family business for now… How is your personal training coming along?”
“I think I can use about seven now. Though the frequency varies for each,” Meisa answered.
To demonstrate, she immediately manifested a pale green wind blade in her palm.
The magic of the gods—the techniques they called ‘Skills.’
Since successfully combining symbols during the battle with Badal, Meisa had been steadily practicing to increase the number of skills at her disposal and the speed at which she could cast them.
Unfortunately, she couldn't freely pull the various 'levers' in her mind like Turan could. Even with the levers she could reach, pulling them repeatedly caused severe headaches that had nothing to do with her mana consumption. It felt as though a specific mental resource was being depleted, though she couldn't quite put a finger on it.
However, Meisa possessed an ability Turan did not.
She picked up a quill pen from the table and focused. Before long, blue lightning crackled from the quill with a sharp, snapping sound.
“A lightning quill?”
“I succeeded just recently. It’s a technique that imbues nearby objects with the lightning attribute.”
Turan checked Meisa’s internal state through the Mimic Relic. He saw lightning and storms erupting every time a hammer struck an anvil.
“You combined three symbols?”
“Yes. But it still feels somewhat unnatural and awkward.”
“It’s probably because you lack the Strength-bearer’s power.”
In the inner world of Badal—both the one he had seen before and the one he had witnessed recently—a thick, powerful hand gripped the hammer as it struck the anvil. Because Meisa lacked that physical force, the hammer’s strike seemed to lack the necessary impact.
“Do you think it’ll help with enchantment magic?”
“Enormously. I’ve been applying this technique to all the magic devices I’m making lately, and it definitely improves their performance. Of course, lightning magic is relatively ineffective against Arabion nobles… but it will still devastate their vassals.”
The most critical task Meisa handled for the family was crafting combat magic devices to bolster their military strength. Since she was also a primary combatant, she couldn't pour all her energy into creating legendary artifacts like Melo or Asiz, but thanks to her immense power, even a moderate effort allowed her to produce items that were invaluable to ordinary nobles.
Thanks to her, the nobles and knights of House Parsha possessed an abundance of magic devices, allowing them to display prowess far beyond their actual levels. In an era where no Great House of the Enchanter bloodline existed, there was no enchanter more powerful than Meisa.
While the two discussed enchantment, Solif, who had been concentrating with his eyes closed, let out a deep sigh.
“Damn it, I’m not getting the hang of this at all. I feel like I could do it if I just knew the trick.”
Unlike Meisa, who knew the combination method for the Storm bloodline, Solif had yet to succeed in combining the Sun bloodline. Considering his talent for soul magic wasn't significantly inferior to hers, it was, as he said, simply a matter of finding the right method.
Turan found it difficult to offer advice. The Baraha elder he had fought in the past hadn't used the Sun bloodline, but had unexpectedly combined the Strength-bearer and Guardian bloodlines instead.
“I want to grab one of those gods and just ask them. If I ask your grandfather, he won't tell me, right?”
“Of course not. And even if he did, it’s not something you should follow blindly.”
Currently, House Zahar was acting strangely friendly toward Turan and House Parsha, but they couldn't afford to let their guard down. For starters, Turan himself possessed a body that the gods of Zahar would surely covet. Their current amicable relationship—even going so far as to send a hostage-spy—was likely only because Turan was openly hostile toward Arabion.
Regardless of the fact that the past war had been a sort of staged play, the two families were likely rivals in the divine realm as well. And as the saying goes, a rival’s downfall is one’s own happiness.
“If we take down Arabion, we’ll probably have to fight Zahar next. Or maybe even right before that.”
That was why Parsha was currently focusing on building strength rather than launching an invasion. The Gray Zone they occupied bordered both families; they could strike either, but they were also vulnerable to both.
After a brief discussion on the complexities of politics, they returned to the topic of soul cultivation. Turan instructed the two to project their spirit bodies.
Soon, Meisa and Solif’s spirit bodies emerged and floated in the air. Turan extracted his own and stood before them. He reached out and gently pulled at the needles densely embedded in their heads.
“Ugh!”
“Aaargh!”
Their groans and screams were fortunately spiritual and did not echo in the physical world. After a moment, when Solif pleaded for him to stop, Turan relaxed his grip and checked their progress.
“I pulled out about four and a half today.”
“My head is throbbing…”
“Are you sure this is actually helping?”
“I’m not entirely certain, but I have a feeling that nothing bad will happen from pulling these out.”
The intuition of one who had mastered soul magic was not to be dismissed. Much like prophets who predicted the weather by observing the stars, high-level soul mages developed a form of supernatural foresight.
While Turan, who had only learned soul magic through an introductory text, hadn't reached that level yet, he had felt a certain intuition regarding this matter for some time. If not for that, he wouldn't have risked trying to remove the needles.
“I just wish there was a way to train further in soul magic. It would have been great if I could have squeezed something out of Kadram.”
“Still no word?”
“Nothing. I haven't even checked on him for the past few weeks. I’ve been too busy.”
From persistent torture to coaxing words, Turan had tried everything to get a single word out of Kadram’s spirit body, but lately, he had practically abandoned the effort. He was tired of pounding on a wall when he already had so much to do.
As they were debating whether they should just crush Kadram’s soul since it was yielding no results, all three of them stopped talking at once. Shortly after, someone knocked on the door of the lounge.
“Come in.”
At Turan’s command, the door opened and a knight entered. He was formerly of House Berk but was now directly affiliated with House Parsha. He spoke with a tense expression.
“A report from the south. Multiple mages detected, friendly, 150 kilometers away.”
“The beacons?”
“Yes.”
“They’re almost here, then. I assume the banquet preparations are complete?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Then let’s wrap this up and get ready.”
“Let’s do that.”
Hearing the knight’s report, Turan stood up. It was time to work as the Head of House Parsha.
*
“May eternal glory be upon the new Great House, Turan Parsha. I hope that we may become your eternal allies.”
“I gratefully accept your most gracious blessing, My Lady.”
In the garden in front of the Kalamaf mansion, a massive outdoor banquet hall had been erected where well-tended trees and grass once stood. In the center of it all, Lida Lavitas greeted Turan with formal politeness, as if they were meeting for the first time.
Originally, Turan would have used honorifics for Lida, as he was a youth hundreds of years her junior, but he couldn't do that here. If he, the Family Head, took a subservient stance toward a noble—even if she was the Head’s nanny—it would make House Parsha look like a subordinate of Lavitas.
However, given her high status and immense age, treating her with complete condescension would have been rude. The current level of formality was just right.
While the two representatives exchanged greetings, the Lavitas nobles who had entered the banquet hall looked around with murmurs of admiration.
“It’s better prepared than I thought.”
“I wasn't expecting much, to be honest.”
Although Parsha had repelled Arabion once, that had been achieved through the individual prowess of Turan and a few powerful nobles. Everyone knew that House Parsha was a group that had been thrown together overnight, and that it fell far short of a Great House in terms of scale and substance.
However, the Kalamaf they found upon arrival exceeded their expectations. Though the interior felt a bit empty, the vast, magnificent walls and the grand mansion were more than enough to pass as the seat of a new Great House.
Of course, Turan had a hand in this. Although he had lost the Earthkeeper bloodline recently, his proficiency hadn't vanished. He had carried out extensive construction in a short time using Earth Manipulation magic. Meisa and Solif, being accustomed to such labor, had also been a great help.
Some might look down on such things as empty vanity, but appearances were vital. Humans were creatures ruled by emotion; regardless of an opponent's actual strength, they were prone to being instinctively intimidated or dismissive based on what they saw.
A moment later, Turan sat across from Lida at the head table and spoke with a respectful tone.
“Thank you for coming, Lida.”
“Think nothing of it. The Family Head asked me to convey his apologies for not being able to come personally. More importantly, I heard there was some trouble recently. Are you alright?”
“Ah…”
The 'trouble' likely referred to the deaths of the Berk couple. Turan smiled bitterly and lightly moistened his throat with wine.
“It is a painful wound, but everyone is trying to accept it and move forward.”
“I have nothing to say but to stay strong. As someone who has lost many cherished people, I know that words offer little comfort.”
Turan responded to Lida’s profound words with a quiet smile. It wouldn't do for a Family Head to openly display his emotions.
It suddenly occurred to him that his rising status was shackling him. One shackle was being unable to leave his base for fear of enemy attacks, and another was the need to restrain his words and actions to match his rank…
His thoughts were interrupted by a woman’s voice from the side.
“Lord Parsha, if it isn't an intrusion, could you introduce this lady to me as well?”
Berit Zahar. His second cousin was speaking to him, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.
Lida chuckled.
“In Lavitas, it isn't considered rude to strike up a conversation without an introduction upon first meeting.”
“I see! I am Berit Zahar.”
“Lida Lavitas. Zahar… I wonder, what is your relationship to the Head of that house?”
“He is my grandfather.”
“Then you must be second cousins with the Head of House Parsha here.”
Just as Meisa had before, a flash of dissatisfaction crossed Berit’s face at the emphasis on her familial relationship with Turan. However, being adept at controlling her emotions, the expression vanished as quickly as it appeared.
After a few more words with Lida, Berit sensed that the older woman wasn't particularly keen on the conversation and took her leave with a smile.
The old lady, who had sent her off with an equally soft smile, looked at Turan with narrowed eyes.
“I had heard the stories, but you really did bring a lady of Zahar with you, Turan.”
“That’s how it turned out. It was a condition they set.”
“Wasn't Miss Meisa angry?”
“I was beaten until my nose broke before I was forgiven.”
Lida burst into laughter and slapped her knee. When she acted like an old woman despite her youthful face, the dissonance felt truly awkward.
“It doesn't seem like it ended with just a broken nose, though. It looks like Miss Meisa is wearing something familiar around her neck.”
Lida pointed toward Meisa, who was mingling with her relatives, Melo and Asiz. She had recognized the necklace Meisa was wearing as the Lavitas relic, the ‘Simple Wish.’
“It’s not exactly that I gave her that to get her to forgive me, but…”
“If I weren't a noble of Lavitas and had received that, I would have been too happy to sleep. It’s not that men don't crave youth, but how could it compare to a woman’s desire for it? Though it must be a great gift for you as well.”
Shortly after confessing his love, Turan had given the Simple Wish to Meisa. As Lida said, he wanted his lover to remain young forever, but more than that, it wasn't of much use to Turan himself. As long as he had the Lavitas bloodline set through the Mimic Relic, he could enjoy the blessing of eternal youth just as they did.
“The romances of young people are a fun topic, but… there is one thing I’d like to confirm.”
“What might that be?”
“There seem to be too many listening ears here.”
At Lida’s words, Turan immediately used wind magic to block the flow of air around them. Sensing this, Lida let out a soft exclamation of admiration.
“Impressive.”
“You may speak now.”
“Just how close a relationship do you intend to form with Zahar?”
“I view them as a potential enemy.”
“I see.”
As if she had expected Turan’s answer, Lida nodded without surprise.
“I suppose so. If you had intended to truly align yourself with them, you wouldn't have stood that young lady up like this. The Family Head specifically asked me to find this out.”
For Osel, it was a crucial matter to know whether Turan intended to link himself closely with Zahar. Baraha, known to be friendly with Zahar, had now become an irreconcilable arch-enemy of Lavitas.
Then, Lida leaned in slightly and whispered. Even though she knew he had already blocked the surrounding wind, she did so to emphasize the gravity of her words.
“Then it is time I tell you why I asked that question.”
Just hearing those words allowed him to guess what she would say next.
“An invasion?”
“Wise as always. Yes. As soon as this delegation returns, we plan to invade Baraha.”
The youthful old lady announced war with a serene face.