Chapter 166
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 166
Not long after the Parsha army returned to Kalamaph, news of the meeting between the three Great Families began to spread, starting from the Gray Zone and rippling outward like a stone cast into a still pond.
As is often the case with such rumors, the truth was buried under thick layers of exaggeration.
Some claimed Zahar and Parsha had finally come to blows in earnest; others whispered that the heads of the two Great Families had battered each other so bloody that Lavitas had to step in to mediate.
However, one point remained consistent across every version of the story: the Head of the Parsha Family had proven himself equal to the Head of the Zahar Family, thereby earning his respect.
Naturally, this sparked a new wave of debate.
"Perhaps the Head of the Parsha Family is actually the strongest mage in the world?"
"Exactly. He’s the only one who has fought the heads of both the Arabion and Zahar families."
"But look at his age... shouldn't it take at least a few more decades?"
"I heard from my cousin that when he killed the Head of the Baraha Family during the war in the East, he had to team up with others."
"Do you think he did that because he lacked confidence? He probably just did it because it was the easiest way to win."
Who was the most powerful among the world's countless mages?
Even commoners who didn't possess a lick of mana and barely understood the fundamentals of magic discussed such topics openly. This couldn't be dismissed as mere idle ranking; the strength of a mage translated directly to the power and influence of the faction they led.
In Kalamaph, in the Gray Zone, in the various reclamation villages scattered throughout the surrounding forests, and across the Enril Desert...
The man at the center of everyone's attention, Turan Parsha, was currently frowning as he stared at a document dense with text.
"Tsk."
To think that a man who had recently declared his intent to conquer the world was spending his days buried in paperwork.
It was a trivial task, but it couldn't be helped. As a newly established Great Family, Parsha had very few trustworthy blood relatives, meaning a mountain of decisions and administrative tasks fell directly onto the family head's shoulders.
Even this current workload was only manageable because Asiz, acting as butler, had hired commoners who were former civil servants of old Kalamaph to distribute the burden.
If Turan had followed the tradition of other Great Families—where only those of the family bloodline were permitted to handle such affairs—the stacks of documents would have filled his office and spilled out into the hallway.
Finally, as he was reviewing a support plan for the fishermen near Ofen City who had been displaced by the recent Maritime Prohibition Order, the door opened and Asiz walked in.
"Are you finished?"
"Almost. Just this last one and I'm... ah, damn it."
To Turan's horror, Asiz was carrying yet another stack of papers.
Turan sighed but obediently took the work and placed it on his desk. He knew that a task he might toss aside out of boredom could be the very thing that determined the life or death of his subjects.
After scanning the new documents, Turan's brow furrowed.
"Another failure?"
"Yes. It seems it's not as easy as we hoped. They say controlling the output of that 'gunpowder' stuff is proving quite difficult."
Some time ago, Turan had decided to formally introduce new weaponry into the territories ruled by the Parsha Family. Specifically, firearms that utilized the Soul of Fire—known in the language of the gods as gunpowder.
Even in a world ruled by powerful mages, firearms had significant utility.
First, they would allow ordinary humans who weren't mages to defend themselves against lower-tier magical beasts. In satellite towns like those in the distant Western Wastelands, where only one or two knights resided, such weapons would be priceless treasures.
Instead of knights running around every day hunting beasts, they could simply expend mana to supply gunpowder, and marksmen could patrol and cull the monsters. The carcasses brought back would then serve as nourishment to bolster the mana of young, inexperienced mages.
Second, in the great war to come, firearms would significantly enhance the combat power of knights and allow even commoners to be utilized as a viable military force.
If proper firearms were developed, knights—if not high-ranking nobles—could be severely injured or killed by a concentrated volley. Much like how powerful high nobles mobilized knights for battle, commoners armed with guns might seem insignificant to the strong at first glance, but they were capable of shifting the outcome of a fight from an unexpected direction.
This was also the reason why the Soul of Fire, or gunpowder, had not spread widely in this world.
The fallen gods were wary of mages using gunpowder indiscriminately, fearing a shift where technology, rather than the strength of one's mana, became the measure of military might.
As the Life Scholar had lamented long ago, humans with that level of ingenuity were practically non-existent in this world. However, the gods feared that someone might eventually use gunpowder to create weapons of transcendental destructive power, just as they had in their original home.
Naturally, developing such firearms would draw significant hostility from those gods, but...
Most of the ones left are enemies anyway.
Arabion and Nagin, Carmine and Ruban.
All four Great Families had essentially declared that they could not coexist with him. Even Zahar, the only one close to neutral, could hardly be considered friendly toward Turan, with the exception of Harun.
To this end, Turan had originally been developing weapons based on the steam rifles of the dwarves he had seen in the past, supplemented by the knowledge of the half-elves. However, he had recently altered the design specifications.
This was because he had personally witnessed the firearm used by Harun, the Head of the Zahar Family.
Was the name of that thing a 'musket'?
During their spar, Harun had fired a shot and then lightly flicked the handle to reveal a chamber for reloading. Compared to muzzle-loading, where the bullet is rammed down the barrel, it was an absurdly clean and sophisticated method.
Turan wanted to replicate it, but the document before him presented the grim reality that it was currently impossible.
"The gun exploded upon ignition...?"
"If the person conducting the test hadn't been a noble, they would have died."
The biggest problem was the sheer explosive force of the Soul of Fire. The moment even a tiny pinch was used as a propellant for a bullet, it caused an explosion that the firearm itself could not withstand. Yet, if they tried to reduce the amount with precision, it often failed to ignite at all.
Furthermore, since commoners couldn't cast ignition magic inside the gun like a knight could, the need for an external spark was another hurdle. The half-elves mentioned that using substances like mercury or fulminate would solve the problem, but no one knew exactly what those were or how to use them.
"It would be great if we could make real gunpowder."
"Real gunpowder? Then is the Soul of Fire fake?"
"Probably. I've never seen the real thing either."
Recently, Turan had overheard a secret about the Soul of Fire from one of the half-elves.
Apparently, it only looked like the real gunpowder from the world the gods originally inhabited—specifically black powder—but its properties were entirely different.
According to them, black powder didn't possess the overwhelming explosive force of the Soul of Fire. That was why it could be used safely in guns by distributing it in appropriate amounts. This magically synthesized version, however, was closer to a high-explosive shell despite its appearance.
The problem was that mixing raw materials without using magic didn't produce anything at all.
The laws of this world were neither identical to nor completely different from those of the gods' homeland. That subtle dissonance was one of the primary culprits hindering the advancement of civilization.
Of course, the ignorance of the gods was an even bigger factor.
Everyone is helpful, yet not helpful at all.
As Resion had confessed in the past, most of the surviving Frea Divine Clan were among the younger generation of the old gods. This was why the world had stagnated and failed to progress since the Twilight of the Gods, which had triggered the collapse of the Old Empire.
The elder gods had possessed various bits of knowledge that allowed them to elevate human civilization from a primitive state to something resembling the Middle Ages in just a few centuries. But once they were gone, there was no one left who understood higher-level knowledge, leading to stagnation.
Most of the surviving gods were merely consumers of the advanced culture of their past world; they didn't actually know how to create it. Among the natives who were incapable of invention themselves, the few gods who tried to pull from their shallow pool of knowledge could hardly bring about dramatic change.
"Invention is truly difficult," Turan muttered.
Even so, he began editing the report, suggesting ways to improve the firearms. It was the result of combining the scientific knowledge he had steadily learned from the Librarian with the fragmented scientific concepts provided by the half-elves.
It was a feat that would have been impossible if he didn't possess a thirst for knowledge far greater than others, or if he didn't have massive mana and the ability to activate the Lavitas bloodline. To handle all his duties, practice his personal training, and cultivate his knowledge, he could only afford to sleep three or four hours a day.
Of course, Meisa had similar stamina and knew quite a bit herself, but...
Turan frowned slightly, recalling how he had entrusted a task to Meisa recently, only to receive a pathetic result.
If the Life Scholar's theory is correct, the fact that I can develop things like this might be proof that I am special.
In the past, he had wondered if Meisa and Solif's lack of ingenuity was due to the 'Leash.' However, even after the Leash was removed, they didn't become particularly more creative.
Then again, hadn't the Life Scholar lamented that all of humanity in this world lacked creativity? If it were solely because of the Leash, there would be no reason for ordinary humans, who lacked such a thing, to exhibit the same phenomenon.
As Harun had suggested, it might be because Turan possessed the soul of a Night Hunter—a being like the old gods. According to them, he was one of the few 'real' existences in this 'false world'...
"Real, my foot."
Turan cut off his train of thought aloud.
If only he and the gods were real, did that mean this vivid world was a lie? Meisa, Solif, everyone else, and even his child who was yet to be born?
If anyone claimed all of that was a lie, Turan would rather make that person the lie. This world was everything he had ever known since the day he was born.
While renewing his resolve, Turan pushed aside the nearly completed firearm improvement plan and pulled out a new document. The ink at the top was still glossy, as if it had just been written.
[Internal Map of Frostwind Forest and Infiltration Routes]
Turan turned the page of the spy's report, which contained internal information on the Ruban family—the Great Family that had recently invaded Baraha.
*
While the Parsha Family was busy with weapon development and war preparations, a new wind of change was blowing in Baraha, where Solif had returned.
It was the emergence of a faction burning with a desire for revenge against the Ruban Family.
"So, you want to form an expeditionary force?"
"Yes, My Lord! If we are caught, you may declare it the act of individuals unrelated to Baraha."
Solif rested his chin on his hand and stared blankly at the woman shouting with such intensity. She and the people standing behind her were nobles whose families had suffered during the Ruban Family's recent invasion.
Although the Ruban forces had retreated after failing to withstand Turan's assault, the cities along their path of invasion had not escaped unscathed. While some families had shamelessly defected, believing Baraha was finished, those who hadn't had suffered great losses.
They wanted blood.
"First of all, I will not permit the creation of private expeditionary forces."
"But why...!"
The woman, acting as the representative, bit her lip and swallowed her protest. The man before her was the new master of Baraha. Though some called him a puppet sitting in the shadow of the Parsha Family Head, he was still the head of a Great Family. He was the most powerful being in this land, one who demanded respect.
"If you go in on your own, you'll just kill a few commoners or knights before getting captured. It's not like they were the ones who wanted to invade in the first place."
"That is true, but—"
"If you want revenge, shouldn't you take it out on the ones at the top?"
The eyes of the nobles lit up as they caught the nuance in his words. They looked like predators who had just spotted their prey.
"Does that mean, perhaps...?"
"Yes. This time, we will be the ones invading. Given the plight of the commoners, I won't go as far as extermination, but I will kill every single person who led this war. Perhaps they'll even destroy themselves."
At Solif's declaration, several Baraha nobles standing nearby looked uneasy. Compared to its peak not long ago, the current Baraha was little more than a shell. Even though Ruban had retreated, they had still preserved a significant portion of their strength. Even a child could guess who would win if the two clashed.
One of the younger nobles in the back hesitated before speaking up.
"Um, will the Head of the Parsha Family also be participating...?"
"You brat! How dare you speak out of turn in this presence!"
The old noble standing next to Solif barked a reprimand, causing the young man to shrink back in surprise. Solif watched this and gave a short laugh, chiding the old man.
"Hey, don't be so hard on him. It wasn't an unfair question."
"My apologies, My Lord."
"Anyway, to answer your question... I can't tell you. It's a military secret."
Solif watched the disappointment wash over their faces and added softly, "But I will tell you one thing: we are marching all the way to Sloan, the capital of Ruban. I have no intention of just poking at the border and making a scene to show we're angry."
Solif's words were practically a confirmation that the Parsha Family would be providing support. Otherwise, it made no sense for Baraha to target the capital instead of just trading blows at the border.
While everyone else was buzzing with excitement, Solif was the only one who remained indifferent, stroking his unshaven beard.
I'm not sure if this is really the right move, though...
Naturally, the war with Ruban was not his sole decision. It was a topic that had come up during a private conversation with Turan in Kalamaph, before he returned following the meeting with the Zahar Family Head.
[War? Again? Isn't it too soon?]
At the time, Solif had argued that they were being too hasty and should take more time. In his opinion, the best time to lead a war would be in about thirty or forty years. By then, the number of Baraha nobles—who had been practically decimated—would have recovered to some extent, and the child of Turan and Meisa would be grown enough to play a role.
Given the compatibility between the two, who knew how many more children might be born? While finding enough mana to support them was an issue, the addition of even two or three nobles with high or top-tier potential would cause the family's power to explode.
However, Turan had rejected Solif's opinion. He argued that such a path would only give the initiative to the enemy. He insisted that now was the time they could—and must—take control of the battlefield.
After hearing the full strategy Turan explained, Solif had decided to accept it. There would be many obstacles ahead, and the possibility of failure wasn't zero, but...
Given the abilities Turan had shown and the plan he had laid out, they had a fighting chance.
*
Naturally, it didn't take long for Solif's declaration to spread. Not everyone present during the audience was of high rank or tight-lipped.
While some expressed concern and others burned with anticipation for revenge, a messenger from the Ruban Family arrived once again. This time, the visitor had completely discarded their previous high-handed and arrogant attitude.
"We sincerely apologize for our recent lawless attack and have prepared ample compensation..."
"Compensation. That's nice. But don't worry, we'll come and collect it ourselves."
Solif replied bluntly and waved his hand to dismiss the Ruban envoy. With Berit sitting right beside him, his gesture of dismissal was reminiscent of an ancient tyrant.
Not long after the messenger was chased away, thousands of armed troops began to move from the capital of Baraha. People were shocked that Baraha could still mobilize such a force despite the repeated damage they had sustained—and even more shocked that they actually did.
"It's war!"
"Baraha and Ruban... who will win?"
"If the Parsha Family joins, Baraha will win. If not, they'll lose..."
Since the Lavitas Family had recently returned to their own territory, the only ones who could help Baraha were the Parsha Family, who possessed holy relics capable of traversing space.
Amidst the public's anticipation, the Baraha army marched north at a pace somewhat slower than a typical mage army.
And as they crossed the border of the Frostwind Forest nearly three weeks later...
"Is this the place? Where Armani is supposed to be?"
"Yes. It was the only port of the Parsha Family. At least until you destroyed it. I see the corpses of your kin over there now."
Five warships, emblazoned with a large anchor and a fish, sat in the water. Carmine mages and merfolk landed on the ruins of what had once been a port.