Chapter 150
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 150
Upon entering the Jewelry Box, the first person Turan encountered was the Librarian, who had claimed the space near the entrance as his personal study.
He was an ancient spirit who, since the founding of the Parsha family, had been obsessed with absorbing knowledge from the various ancient texts recovered from the Gray Zone.
"Brought another one to torture, have you?" the Librarian asked grumpily, seeing Turan for the first time in a while.
"If the conversation goes well, I might not have to," Turan replied.
"Just don't be too noisy."
Despite his gruff words, the Librarian had once silently offered Turan encouragement when he was frustrated by his inability to extract information from Kadram. Turan gave a sheepish smile and bowed his head in acknowledgment.
Passing through the library and moving past Kadram’s cell—where the prisoner remained as unresponsive as a corpse—Turan finally reached the massive cage holding Resion.
"You..."
The spirit of the Baraha Family Head, Resion, was bound tightly by long, thick gray chains. These were a manifestation of the binding tools Turan had seized after killing the Baraha nobles who had once used them to restrain Solif. Within this space, Turan had recreated them through sheer imagination.
Turan looked into Resion’s face, which still held an inhuman form, and spoke. "You don't even have a mouth. How are you speaking?"
"Is that what you're most curious about?"
"I have plenty of questions. But for now, yes, that’s at the top of the list. Just what kind of creature are you?"
"Resion Baraha, Head of the Baraha Family. Or rather, I was. Now I am nothing more than a ghost in death."
Turan let out a short, dry laugh at Resion’s self-deprecating remark before his expression hardened. His face, which already looked somewhat sinister when he wasn't smiling, appeared even more cruel now, accentuated by the sharp vertical pupils of a spirit and an aggressive gaze.
"First, let me tell you this: I know your kind has a technique for relinquishing consciousness to play dead."
"And?"
"The moment you try to use that to escape this, I will tear your soul into tiny shreds. So small that no matter what method you use, you’ll never be able to restore it. This is a piece of advice for your own sake. If you’re waiting for your comrades to rescue you, don't bother."
The soul is immortal.
That was a teaching from the Soul Magic Book, but it was both right and wrong at the same time. While the spirit body that constitutes the True Self—the genuine soul—cannot be annihilated, it is entirely possible to disrupt and shatter it. In other words, even if Turan were to tear Resion’s spirit body into fragments as small as soul dust, that entity would still technically be 'Resion.'
However, there would be no meaning to a name attached to a spirit body that could no longer think or function.
Unfortunately, it was difficult to tell if Resion felt any fear. Since they were both spirits, it was impossible to read emotions through scent, and unlike humans, Resion's alien features made visual analysis nearly impossible.
Fortunately, Resion’s response a moment later was cooperative.
"...If I cooperate, what do I get? The life of an eternal prisoner in this cage?"
"I don't know if existing as a soul can be called 'life,' but depending on the value of the information you provide, I can guarantee better treatment."
As Turan spoke, he snapped his fingers. The environment inside the cell transformed instantly.
A warm, crackling fireplace appeared, along with a comfortable armchair, a bookshelf filled with well-bound books, honey-glazed roasted cod, and steamed pork so tender the meat fell off the bone. Inside this place, as the master of the Jewelry Box, he could manifest anything he had personally experienced.
"A life in a pleasant place, eating delicious food and seeing interesting things. You might call it a superficial pleasure... but it’s better than being torn to shreds or locked in an empty cell forever, isn't it? Though, I suppose I don't know if you can even eat with that mouth."
With another snap of his fingers, the illusion vanished, and the interior returned to a cold, bleak cell. Nothing had actually changed, but perhaps because the warmth of the fireplace was gone, the air felt much colder than it had just moments ago.
"And, this is only in the worst-case scenario, but if we find ourselves at a disadvantage in the fight outside, I might temporarily release you. As a combat asset, that is."
According to his experience, while there were individual differences, the possessed vessels of the gods often displayed power several levels higher than the mid-to-high-ranking nobles they inhabited. If it was Resion, who had once been the Head of the Baraha Family, he would likely be even more formidable.
In an emergency, he was certainly worth using as a resource. Of course, since the personality of the body he possessed would essentially be erased, the target would have to be chosen from among terrible criminals... but if things truly turned dire, 'conscripting' Resion was a viable option.
"Of course, for that to happen, there’s a lot you need to tell me. Like how to create a soul stronghold, or how to enter the one here in Baraha..."
"You haven't found it yet?"
"I've only just entered the Sun Temple."
In reality, Turan had searched every corner of the Sun Temple from the moment he entered until sunset without finding a trace, but he bluffed. He guessed that Resion wouldn't be able to sense the passage of time accurately inside this cell.
After a brief silence, Resion spoke in a low voice.
"Very well. However, I expect you to keep your word. Just as I respect you, I hope you will respect me as well, Turan Parsha."
Perhaps because he now considered himself a partner in a deal, Resion, who had been speaking bluntly until a moment ago, suddenly adopted the same sophisticated tone he had used initially. Turan nodded with a stoic expression, disgusted by how easily the man donned a mask.
"Fine. Then I'll start with this. What are you? Why does your spirit body look so different from a human's?"
"And the price for that answer?"
Instead of answering, Turan lightly snapped his fingers, causing the chains to tighten.
Crunch.
A sickening sound of crushing echoed through the cell, followed by a suppressed groan.
"Trying to play tricks from the start, I see. You seem to be mistaken—this isn't a trade. This is an interrogation."
"Ugh... You are... quite harsh."
Resion tried to maintain his composed front, but he failed as every syllable was laced with pain. When Turan momentarily loosened the chains, Resion muttered in a defeated tone.
"Fine... I am... human. Or at least, I consider myself human. Though in reality, I might be a White Elf."
"...A White Elf?"
Turan reflexively raised an eyebrow. Where did that come from? But on second thought, it seemed plausible. His pale skin and those floppy, tentacle-like ears satisfied the classic trait of elves: 'ears that are elongated and different from humans.' But even so, wasn't his appearance far too alien?
"The Dark Elves I saw before didn't look much different from humans, except for their ears."
"I, too... no, White Elves also have a physical form that isn't much different from humans, save for the ears. It is only when seen as a spirit body that we take this shape."
"I see. So, what exactly does it mean that you consider yourself human but are actually a White Elf?"
Resion hesitated for a moment. But when the chains shifted slightly, he flinched and continued.
"A long time ago, the one known by the nickname 'Mechanic' was terrified by the sudden deaths of his companions."
Turan’s eyes widened. He realized this was a story from the ancient past—the era when the Frea Divine Clan’s lifespans reached their end and the Old Empire collapsed. A story from an era that even the Librarian didn't fully know was finally being told.
"At the time, the Mechanic and a few surviving friends discovered after many sacrifices that the problem was related to the soul and age. Unfortunately, they weren't very well-versed in soul magic. Such matters were almost exclusively monopolized by the Puppeteer to the west."
"The Puppeteer?"
"Yes. Well, he seemed to have the ability to notice whenever information related to him was mentioned. It would probably be best not to speak of this outside."
Hearing Resion’s words, Turan realized that the Puppeteer was likely the head of the Arabion-Nagin family, the Life Scholar. Rather than thinking there were two people with such abilities, it was more logical to assume he went by different names.
The Puppeteer, huh...
Thinking of the two Nagin bloodlines—Ruler and Tamer—Turan thought it was a fitting name. Didn't both possess the ability to dominate or exert a deep spiritual influence over others?
"Anyway, since they didn't have a good relationship with the Puppeteer to begin with, they sought out White Elf Spirit-Callers as an alternative. It wasn't easy, as Spirit-Calling was considered a threatening ability and they had been hunted down, but they managed to gather a few."
"Did they use them to attempt a physical transfer through Spirit-Calling?"
"Correct. However, the White Elves had no intention of obediently helping the Frea gods who had driven them to the brink of extinction... During the soul transfer, they attempted to intervene. They wanted to inhabit the human bodies the gods were trying to claim."
"No way."
Only then did Turan grasp the meaning of what Resion had said earlier.
"Yes. I consider myself one of the Frea gods—the Players—who came to this world in the distant past, but at the same time, I also consider myself the White Elf Aplesoia, who was born in this land. Since I have memories of being born and raised as both beings, it is difficult to define my identity. You could call me a spiritual hybrid."
To think that the rumor Turan had spread to the upper echelons of Arabion—that White Elves had taken over the top ranks of the Great Families—was actually true here? No, according to those words, it wasn't quite right to say the White Elves had simply taken over. The being before him was also a fallen ancient god.
"You seem quite surprised."
"To be honest, yes. So, can I assume the entire Baraha lot are half-White Elves?"
"Correct. And not just us; the Ruban family is the same."
Turan recalled the Ruban successor he had seen recently. The idea of a fallen ancient god taking over a human body was disgusting enough, but the realization that they were also half-alien made it even more unpleasant. Since his relationship with Ruban had soured during this conflict anyway, he might have to deal with them as well when the opportunity arose...
"What about Zahar or the others?"
"I am not certain, but I doubt it. They seem to have a secret method for wielding greater power within a human body."
"Then they probably don't know your true identity either."
"If they had known, we would have been purged long ago. It is a well-known story that those people didn't particularly like us. It was fortunate that we at least had some fragmented memories of the originals, allowing us to act like gods and maintain relations."
Fortunately, the Spirit-Calling of the White Elves was a type of spiritual technique that wasn't solely dependent on a physical body, so they could continue to reincarnate as they did now even while inhabiting human forms. He added that the principle was likely different from how the gods in the west reincarnated.
"Fine. Then where are your companions? I'll pay a suitable price for this answer."
As Turan spoke, he snapped his fingers, and the chains binding Resion’s body unraveled. Naturally, Resion couldn't do anything here even without the chains, but the sense of liberation from being able to move his limbs freely would be significant.
"You're releasing me without even hearing the answer?"
"Obviously, if the answer isn't satisfactory, you'll be bound again."
Turan provided the reward upfront to let Resion experience the relief. Once he had a taste of it, he wouldn't want to return to the chains.
"For your information, I already have a rough idea that they're underground. I'm only asking you because I want to skip the tedious work."
Despite his casual tone, Turan considered finding and restraining the Baraha gods a priority. Though the possibility was slim, if they were to escape the soul storage on their own and possess new bodies, it would take a great deal of effort to find and eliminate them again.
Perhaps because it was difficult to immediately betray his comrades, Resion hesitated for a long time, sighing repeatedly before finally nodding. Either the bluff that Turan already knew they were underground worked, or the threatening rattle of the chains helped. In the end, he was merely a prisoner in Turan’s grasp.
"In the study next to the bedroom, in front of the second bookshelf, recite the incantation: 'Om Amogha Vairocana Mahamudra Mani Padma Jvala Pravartaya Hum.' Use the same method to close the door."
"What does it mean?"
"It was from a novel I enjoyed a long time ago, so I don't know the meaning. It's likely some kind of mantra used in Buddhism."
Buddhism, mantra—these were words Turan had never heard before, but he didn't react. He was already used to divine beings bringing up stories from worlds he didn't understand.
"Fine. Let's check if it's real first before we move on to the next topic."
"Mmm."
Unless he was a fool, Resion knew that if this was a lie, something even more terrible would happen to him. Judging by his calm demeanor, it seemed the method he provided wasn't a complete fabrication.
*
After finishing the negotiation and leaving the Jewelry Box, Turan shared the conversation he had with Resion with the two people waiting outside. Both were shocked, but Solif, being more directly involved, was the most stunned.
"Resion is... a White Elf? No, all the gods of our family!?"
"It's a bit vague to call them purely White Elves, but that's the gist of it."
Leaving the stunned Solif aside, Turan recited the incantation in front of the bookshelf in the study. Immediately, a spatial door manifested with a low hum.
"This..."
When they had gone to the Tomb of the Gods in the past, the space leading to the underground labyrinth had looked exactly like this. It seemed they were also able to use spatial abilities to a limited extent; he would have to ask later how they created this.
With that thought, Turan stepped through the door with the other two. Just like when they crossed through Armani’s Jade Mirror, the peaceful air of the study vanished instantly, replaced by a chilling cold.
"A cave?"
"No, I think it's underground. I can feel presences far above on the surface."
Turan could sense living beings moving about hundreds of meters above them. He guessed this place was located somewhere beneath the city of Helio. Since he had previously seen faint spirits seeping into the ground, it was as he expected.
The surroundings were shaped like a well-organized study or a secret mansion. Luxurious furniture was placed here and there against the walls of the smoothly finished cave. However, while it was well-arranged, it was covered in dust, and several household items were scattered on the floor. It felt less like the hideout of a secret organization and more like an unmaintained villa.
Then again, if it was a place only accessible to the gods, White Elves, or the very top of the family, it made sense that it wasn't well-cleaned. They couldn't exactly bring in an ordinary servant, and the users themselves weren't the type to lift a finger to clean—regardless of the fact that they were all high-ranking mages who could easily clean with a single gesture.
"Now, shall we look for it..."
"We don't even need to look. It's obviously that."
Turan looked in the direction Solif pointed and let out a low exclamation of awe.
On one side of the cave stood a massive stone slab, about three meters high, set vertically. As he activated his Spiritual Awareness and approached, he could see spirits swirling inside. Unlike Resion, some were even more alien in appearance, while others looked relatively human.
The rulers of Baraha were trapped in this single stone slab, waiting for his judgment.
"Nice to meet you, friends."
It’s time to come out and go somewhere better, Turan thought with a sinister smile as he reached out his hand.