Chapter 163
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 163
At the mention of the word "love" from Harun’s lips, Turan fell silent, staring intently at the man.
He had already learned from their previous conversation that this elderly appearance was not Harun’s true essence. In fact, Turan couldn't even be certain if Harun’s original self had been female.
While the Frea faith rejected same-sex love to promote the proliferation of noble bloodlines, it wasn't as if people didn't harbor such passions. Perhaps Otas’s true essence had been female.
Having absorbed Kadram’s memories, Turan understood that the essence of a "player" and the game character that formed a god’s physical body did not necessarily align. Just because the Night Hunter’s body was male didn't mean the person behind the monitor was as well.
It was much like the story of the Lame Goddess, who used her beautiful appearance and girlish tone to seduce others and swindle them out of their money, only to be beaten half to death when it was discovered she was actually a man...
"I can see exactly what you're thinking by the look on your face. I'm sorry, but that's a personal matter, so I'll keep my silence on it."
"...I understand. However, there is something I find difficult to grasp. What exactly do you want from the resurrected Night Hunter?"
If Turan truly was the reincarnation of the Night Hunter, he couldn't reciprocate even if Harun craved affection. His heart already belonged to Meisa, and even if it didn't, it was difficult to harbor romantic feelings for an old man.
"You must be too young to understand. Love doesn't always demand a reward. Sometimes, there is joy simply in the act of giving."
Looking at Harun’s gratified smile—as if he were doting on a grandchild—it was hard to reconcile this image with the villain who had calmly admitted moments ago to grinding up hundreds of thousands of souls just to bring Turan into existence.
Truly, the old man before him was the most hypocritical being Turan had ever met. In one sense, he was infinitely cruel; in another, he possessed a strangely innocent devotion.
As if sensing Turan’s inner turmoil, Harun suddenly threw out a question.
"Do you hate me? Because I sacrificed hundreds of thousands to create you, and forced a lifelong separation between you and your parents?"
Turan chose his words carefully instead of answering immediately. Based on the question, it seemed Harun didn't know that Turan already knew the truth about his father’s death. To hide that fact without lying required a certain level of tact.
"I’m not sure. I think you’re a terrible villain... but in a sense, I could also say I owe you a debt. To be honest, I find it difficult to gauge how I should treat you."
As Turan spoke, he suddenly recalled the nobles of the Baltas family back in Orem City to the west. He had inwardly despised how they used their knights as shields against attacks that weren't even lethal, yet they had treated Turan generously as a guest and granted him access to their library. Even if it was only to use him for subjugating magical beasts, the fact remained.
While the scale of their misdeeds couldn't compare to the old man before him, the pattern was similar: their actions were repulsive, yet they treated him well personally.
"Furthermore, I wonder if I even deserve this favor. Even after your explanation, I’m still not convinced I’m the reincarnation of the Night Hunter. I have no memories of a past life, and my bloodline is different from his."
In truth, even if he were given the chance to regain those memories, he wanted to refuse. Just by absorbing a fraction of Kadram’s memories recently, Turan had found himself harboring an unconscious hatred for Kadram’s family—people he had never met, let alone lived in the same world with.
If he were to fully regain the Night Hunter’s memories, could he still define himself as himself?
Hearing this, Harun laughed and nodded.
"Well, it doesn't matter what you think. I saw it with my own eyes and gained my own certainty. That’s enough for me. That’s enough."
As he muttered those words, a single tear rolled down Harun’s wrinkled face.
Turan was startled, but he noticed that the Zahar nobles nearby were even more agitated. Although the sound didn't carry past the magic device, their figures were visible to everyone. They were bewildered to see their family head suddenly shed tears in the middle of a conversation. One of them even tried to step inside the sound-blocking barrier before being restrained by his peers.
"Ah, excuse me... If I were in a younger body, I might have been fine, but it seems I’ve become too sentimental with age. Shall we end the personal talk here? It must be a chore for a young man to listen to an old man’s ramblings. Is there anything you want from me? If it’s not too grand, I’ll grant it."
At Harun’s words, Turan momentarily considered demanding that Harun kill all the Zahar nobles behind him—especially the God's Vessels—and then commit suicide. But he quickly dismissed the thought. Even if the old man thought of him as a past lover, there was no way he would grant such a thing.
In fact, Harun had likely said "if it's not too grand" precisely because he anticipated such thoughts. To promise anything and then refuse would be a lie.
In the end, after some deliberation, Turan made a request that was, as Harun suggested, not particularly grand.
"That rod you mentioned earlier—could you tell me what it’s used for?"
Turan pointed to the rod strapped to Harun’s back. Harun chuckled.
"I’ll do you one better! Why don't you see it in action? Experience it for yourself."
"A duel, or a spar?"
"A spar, of course. If we had a real duel, I’d have a hard time restraining my friends over there. Besides, shouldn't you learn how to use the abilities you’ve recently acquired? It’ll be easier if I show you a demonstration."
If they fought seriously and Turan was gravely injured, the Zahar gods would surely use the momentum to argue for his total subjugation. Harun would find it difficult to stop them. Even as a powerful God's Vessel, one became vulnerable during the process of transferring bodies and required the help of others. The reason the gods formed groups rather than living alone was to ensure the smooth transfer of their souls; an outcast might find themselves unable to obtain a new body and be cast out of existence.
Through the half-elves, Turan had learned a fair amount about this delicate power dynamic among the gods.
"I promise I won't use any attacks that could be fatal during our spar. And if my people try to cause a ruckus, I’ll stop them. What do you say?"
"Fine."
After a moment’s thought, Turan accepted the proposal. Since activating the Eye of Truth, Harun hadn't told a single lie. If his words were true, a spar with the Zahar family head would certainly be a valuable experience.
"Well then, let’s have a light round for some post-meal exercise!"
Harun deactivated the sound-blocking magic device and shouted loudly, leaving everyone around them looking puzzled. He had been shedding tears just a moment ago, and now he was suddenly declaring a spar? The sequence of events was utterly nonsensical.
While Harun spoke to the Zahar nobles, Turan informed Osel and the other Parsha nobles of the arrangement. Hearing this, Osel frowned, his youthful face tightening.
"Are you sure about this? It might be a ploy to prevent the Parsha head and me from fighting together..."
In a real battle, Turan and Osel would naturally join forces to pressure Harun. But under the guise of a spar, they could be isolated. If Harun launched a surprise lethal attack during the spar, he could effectively defeat them one by one.
"Your concern is valid, but I don't believe that is his intention."
"Very well. If anything seems off, I’ll jump in immediately, so give the signal."
*
The spar took place in the middle of a barren wilderness next to the temporary meeting site. Even if it was just a light exchange, the clash between the heads of two Great Houses meant that other mages kept a distance of at least several hundred meters. Only Osel stood relatively close, confident that his own strength as a powerful mage would keep him safe.
Standing about thirty meters apart, Harun adjusted his hat and spoke to Turan.
"To be honest, I didn't expect you to accept so readily. I thought you’d weigh your options a bit more."
"It’s because you spoke the truth."
"That conviction when you’ve made up your mind... you really are like him."
Was it called confirmation bias, the way he linked everything back to that person? Turan briefly mulled over the term before pulling his sling from his pouch.
Since it was a light spar, he had no intention of using advanced techniques like the Soul of Fire or the Railgun. The skills he had used back when he was known as a more ordinary mage would suffice. And since Harun already knew about the Mimic Relic, Turan could use it without hesitation.
"Then... shall we begin?"
With a low murmur, Harun vanished from the spot. It was the signature stealth ability of the Zahar bloodline. Turan had wondered if a family-head-level mage would be different, but fortunately, the Mimic Relic could detect even this.
Instead of immediately throwing a stone, Turan created a sphere of light, just as his previous opponents often had. In an instant, the surrounding kilometers were illuminated—
"...Oh."
To Turan’s surprise, instead of breaking his stealth, Harun countered by shrouding himself in a pitch-black mist. It was clearly a skill, not a standard spell.
Turan responded by hurling the stone he had been spinning directly into the mist. After all, it was obvious where his target was.
Boom! Without the use of Wind Path, the stone tore through the air at supersonic speeds with a thunderous roar, striking the target accurately. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say Harun had raised his rod to deflect the incoming projectile.
"That doesn't seem like a very useful technique," Turan said to the now-visible Harun.
While his accuracy was thanks to the relic’s detection, even without it, one could simply aim for the center of the black mist. Harun laughed heartily.
"I wanted to show you that such a method exists. Besides, it’s not entirely useless. It’s quite psychologically taxing for an opponent when they can't tell how much damage they’ve dealt, or even if their attack landed at all."
I see. So it was a technique used for that purpose.
Turan briefly searched his internal "handles" and activated the same skill Harun had just used. The black mist, which should have only existed as a symbol within him, enveloped his body, allowing him to hide easily even under the bright light.
"Now, it’s my turn."
Harun spoke softly as he unwrapped the cloth from the rod he held and leveled it at Turan. The motion alone made it easy to guess the object’s purpose. It was like the steam rifles the mountain dwarves had used in the past... Though smaller and simpler in form, the fundamental nature of the object was too similar to mistake.
The moment light flickered from the dark bore, Turan covered his chest with both hands and switched the relic to the Ruban bloodline. A metal slug erupted from the muzzle, flying at a speed nearly impossible to perceive, threatening to tear through Turan’s arms.
"Ugh...!"
Despite the defensive power of the Guardian bloodline, his own Guardian magic tool, and the protective enchantments on the clothes Meisa had made for him, his forearms stung with a dull ache. He guessed that if he had taken the hit without the relic and magic tools, it would have pierced through both his arms and his heart. As he had sensed through the relic, the attack was only this powerful because the gun itself was a potent holy relic.
Turan was blown back, rolling dozens of meters before coming to a stop. As he glared sharply, Harun burst into laughter.
"I trusted you’d be able to withstand at least that much. By that logic, wouldn't your stones have hurt quite a bit if I’d taken them head-on?"
Just like before, the old man had a knack for making anyone who tried to argue feel like a fool.
"More importantly, based on your reaction, it seems you’ve seen a gun before. How did you know? Did Kadram or Resion tell you?"
"I saw the mountain dwarves using them. Theirs used steam."
"Oho."
"More importantly, how did you know I have Kadram and Resion?"
"I heard it from that fellow in the northwest. He said someone stole his Soul Labyrinth. If it was you, you naturally would have stolen the souls of those you defeated to interrogate them."
It was a bit surprising that the Life Scholar had so readily confessed to Harun about losing his property, but on second thought, it made sense. He likely wanted Zahar to feel threatened by Turan and eliminate him, solving his problem without lifting a finger.
While surprised by this revelation, Turan focused on the spar and searched his internal handles. Among the things he had seen earlier, there was something he wanted to try in practice. It was a type of offensive enhancement, probably...
"Oh!"
Harun, who had been deflecting the incoming stones as before, let out a cry of surprise. The stone he had swatted away suddenly curved in mid-air and flew back toward him.
The principle was similar to the tracking magic Turan had often used as an ordinary mage, but the turning angle and mana efficiency were on a different level. Usually, compensating for the massive loss of momentum when defying inertia would drain enough mana to cause self-destruction, but this skill tracked the enemy effortlessly without such side effects.
The ancient Night Hunter must have used this ability to snipe enemies from vast distances. Otherwise, there was no way a target would remain stationary while a projectile traveled over a hundred kilometers.
‘I should test later if I can add a tracking function to the Railgun.’
If possible, he could refine that terrifying weapon even further, though he had a hunch it might weaken the impact slightly.
While Turan was lost in thought, black tentacles erupted from the shadows at Harun’s feet, swallowing the stones Turan had thrown. It was likely an ability of the Shadow bloodline.
"Don't think of this as a demonstration. You won't be able to copy this one."
"I suppose not. This is just out of curiosity, so you don't have to answer, but wasn't the Shadow bloodline supposed to be extinct?"
Even as they conversed, Turan stayed hidden in the darkness, having extinguished his light to evade the incoming attacks. To overcome this, Harun would likely have to create light himself.
However, contrary to expectations, Harun didn't create light. Instead, he stomped the ground as if casting an earth manipulation spell. Simultaneously, dark purple tentacles erupted across a radius of several hundred meters.
Naturally, the area where Turan stood was no exception. To avoid the attack while remaining hidden, he used flight magic to soar into the air. The moment a single tentacle grazed him, Harun’s gaze snapped toward him.
"There you are."
Bang! The sharp crack of gunpowder rang out—a sound he hadn't heard clearly before—but it had no effect. Instead of blocking with his body, Turan used a burst of gunpowder near his person to perform an evasive maneuver.
As Turan landed and deactivated his stealth, Harun also withdrew the shadow tentacles covering the ground.
"We’ve been secretly preserving the Shadow bloodline. However, we ensure they only possess a faint level of power, making it difficult for them to awaken as mages. If someone too strong is born, we prune them."
"Because of the rules of bloodline management?"
"Exactly. Besides, the Shadow bloodline is... dangerous. Not as much as the Alchemist bloodline, but still."
"Is that why you severed those two bloodlines?"
"It is. If they had remained, the world would be in much more pain than it is now. I can guarantee that."
As they spoke, Turan closed the distance and threw a punch. To his surprise, Harun met him with aggressive hand-to-hand combat. Even with the Ruban bloodline’s strength active, Turan didn't find it easy to push him back; in fact, the old man felt even more unyielding. It was clear Harun possessed a magic tool that granted him superhuman strength, much like Turan’s own Guardian magic tool.
They exchanged blows for several rounds. Turan eventually stepped back, rubbing his aching jaw, and Harun slung his gun over his shoulder.
"I suppose we should stop here. I’m starting to feel a bit winded."
He didn't seem to be lying; Harun’s face looked noticeably more drained than before. It was just like Badal had been in the past. Back then, Turan hadn't known why, but now he understood. Unlike Turan and his companions, whose souls and bodies were perfectly harmonized, the God's Vessels suffered from a lack of synchronization, causing their Spirit Chains to fatigue easily. If the races of the soul and body were mismatched—as with the half-elves—it became difficult to even use skills properly, as Resion had experienced.
In the future, when Turan fought them, he would have to exploit this to the fullest.
Should I finish him while he’s tired?
Turan briefly wrestled with the sudden temptation before shaking his head. Setting aside the morality of it, if he attempted a sneak attack during a spar between guest and host, his subordinates—and even his ally Osel—would look upon him with contempt.
"That was a good spar."
As the two men bowed politely to each other, signaling the end of the match, cheers erupted from the onlookers.