Chapter 170
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 170
There was a hint of caution—no, perhaps even dread—in Zemel’s voice as he spoke of the mastermind behind the raid.
Turan knew that expression well. It was the look fallen gods wore when they were truly cornered.
The Life Scholar, the Puppeteer, or whatever other name the god behind the scenes went by. Even the half-elves, who were little more than his slaves, had refused to utter that name out of sheer revulsion.
[Monarch?]
[Yes, that was the name he originally used. Among ourselves, we had other nicknames for him, like "The Swindler" or such...]
[Others were hesitant to even mention that name, yet you aren't.]
Turan watched Zemel flinch and immediately surmised his intention. For some reason, Zemel wanted Monarch—the Life Scholar—to notice his name being spoken and turn his gaze toward them.
[Are you in league with him? Someone hidden inside the Carmine family?]
[No, it’s not like tha—]
[That’s a lie.]
Inside the Soul Prison, where both were in spirit form, it was difficult to read emotions through physical cues like scent. However, the current Turan had other ways to discern the truth.
The Eye of Truth.
Born from the fusion of the Hunter and Pursuer bloodlines, this ability worked on spirits even in a spiritual state. It told him, without a shadow of a doubt, that his opponent was lying.
[So your loyalty isn't particularly strong? Seeing as you're doing this for your own safety, despite the fact that he likely wanted to remain hidden after instigating things from the shadows.]
It seemed Zemel was confident that once rescued, the Life Scholar, Monarch, would not harm him. He likely held a hidden card regarding that relationship.
[More importantly, can that fellow perceive a conversation held even within this Soul Prison? By what means?]
[I... I don't know for sure. I just thought that perhaps he might notice...]
He wasn't certain, but he had acted on a sliver of hope. This time, he wasn't lying.
Just how much had that man hidden his abilities that even those who had lived with him for thousands of years didn't know his limits? Compared to this individual, even Talis—the most paranoid person Turan had ever met—seemed like an amateur.
[Anyway, since you’ve already opened your mouth, I might as well ask more. What do you know about him?]
[That is—]
Seeing Zemel hesitate, Turan immediately manifested a torture device and set it down beside him. It was a wooden horse with a sharp, triangular saddle—something he had glimpsed briefly in Kadram’s consciousness. Even without specific knowledge, its purpose was clear from its appearance.
Zemel’s face turned deathly pale.
[I-I’ll tell you! So please, anything but that...]
Turan inwardly noted that since Zemel was weak against violence, threats were far more effective than trying to coax him with rewards. The prisoner quickly spilled the secrets he had been hiding.
[First, as far as I know, Monarch’s current identity is the Head of the Nagin family.]
[As I suspected.]
It was something he had already guessed, but having it confirmed by an insider was a vital development. Of course, he had to consider the possibility of another layer of deception, but there was little reason for Monarch to abandon the powerful body of a Great House Head for another.
[Yes. And the method Monarch uses to detect when he is mentioned is...]
[By manipulating "Taboos," I assume?]
[Ah, you already knew.]
[I know that much. You aren't the first prisoner to come here.]
Indeed, it was Resion who had told him this. Originally, Resion had been terrified to even mention Monarch’s name within the Soul Prison, but he eventually yielded the information in exchange for a chance to play a casual game of chess with a companion.
[He designates his name or certain pieces of information as things that must not be mentioned, and then he senses whenever someone violates those rules, right?]
This was possible because one of Monarch’s abilities was that of a Jurist—one who could set specific laws. Like the Alchemists and Shadows of the Night Hunters, or the Mimics and Wave Walkers of the Drowned God, it was a bloodline that had gone extinct in the modern era.
According to the old tales of the gods, the variety of bloodline abilities possessed by the Frea Divine Clan when they were alive was more than double what existed today. Those lineages had simply dwindled as their descendants were weeded out over the millennia.
[There’s one thing I don't understand, though. How is it possible to wield such power across the entire world without even having a god's physical body?]
[I heard once that the essence of the ability is the same as handling souls. Though it’s difficult to calibrate now that he’s lost his divine power, he still holds the authority of a master...]
Monarch had apparently been obsessed with erasing his existence from history books even when he possessed a god's body, wanting to remain hidden from the world. This explained why no legends remained of a god with such power. Even what Turan had seen in the library or the Tomb of the Gods were merely diary entries that lacked direct details.
[Then, was the creation of the "Leash" also a result of combining that power with his ability to manipulate life?]
[Yes, exactly! I didn't expect you to know even that.]
Modifying the dwarves into low-intelligence workers or crafting horrific monsters from the flesh and souls of dead giants must have been done using that power. Furthermore, creating a hereditary "Leash" likely involved applying skills from the Ruler or Tamer bloodlines, which were useful for soul magic.
Certainly, it was clear why he hadn't been highly regarded for his abilities during the game era. In terms of pure combat, it was a useless combination. However, after they arrived in this world in the bodies of game characters, his non-combat abilities played a massive role in every field—from creating the "Leash" embedded in the souls of mages to the modification of hostile alien races and even reincarnation through soul magic.
[Let’s talk more about what happened earlier. What did Monarch promise your leader? I heard they weren't on particularly good terms.]
[It’s a Holy Relic called the "King of Disaster." It originally belonged to our guild leader.]
The top-tier relics remaining in the modern era were mostly mementos left behind by the ancient Frea Divine Clan as they died. Objects that were originally relatively ordinary had been empowered by the grudges left behind at death—much like the Mimic Relic Turan possessed.
Naturally, they served as powerful weapons, but they also commanded a unique emotional attachment, especially if one had been close to the relic's original owner.
[The Lawyer... that is, Lodor, the Head of the Carmine family, was close to the original owner of that item. Their relationship soured because Monarch snatched it away during the chaos. It was a sufficient price for attacking the Parsha family.]
Furthermore, Lodor had apparently always looked down on Turan. He found it offensive that a mere native would stand against them—the gods—and had been looking for an opportunity to eliminate him. Being paid a great price to do so had only made him happier.
[Then does Lodor have the King of Disaster now?]
[No. If it were given as an advance payment, he might have just taken the item and ignored the deal, so they signed a separate contract.]
Zemel explained that there was a skill based on the Jurist bloodline related to such things. It allowed one to impose a contract where a violation wouldn't just cause physical problems, but severe damage to the soul. The condition was to receive the item after Kalamaph was laid to waste, so he hadn't received it yet.
[In that case, the Carmine family won't give up after just this one attack.]
Between recovering the souls of Zemel and the other prisoner, the contract, and the matter of the Holy Relic, there was no way they would quit easily. Zemel nodded with a reluctant expression.
[Yes. That’s likely. Also, we obtained information from inside the Parsha family for this raid...]
[It was Jujak, wasn't it?]
[What? H-how did you know!?]
Zemel cried out in shock. Amusingly, it was Zemel himself who had informed Turan that "Jujak" was the nickname his grandfather, Talis, had used in the game. Turan had overheard this while disguised in Onil’s skin during a secret meeting within the Carmine family.
[Anyway, I’ve learned enough for now. I should give you your reward.]
Turan remodeled the interior of the prison to match the specific style of the Carmine family he had seen during his time as Onil. It was slightly less comfortable than the quarters provided to the half-elves like Resion, but still an improvement.
[Oh...]
It was nothing compared to what Zemel had enjoyed originally, but after being stuck in a prison made of nothing but stone, his standards had clearly plummeted. Turan spoke quietly to the marveling Zemel.
[This is all for now, but if you provide more useful information, I’ll give you even better treatment. Now, tell me. What else is there?]
*
Turan spent several more hours inside the Soul Prison.
Between steadily interrogating Zemel, questioning the other Carmine divine being to cross-reference their stories, and checking everything against the half-elves, a significant amount of time had passed. Still, he had managed to learn quite a bit.
First, there were seven members of the Carmine divine race in total—now five. Second, unless he cut off the head of the Carmine family, their relationship was effectively beyond repair. And finally, the third thing...
"You're saying they're up to something suspicious?"
"Yeah. Those guys don't know exactly what it is, but they said he’s looked busier than usual lately."
Turan replied to Meisa’s question as he popped a piece of raspberry pie into his mouth. Since the pregnant Meisa had developed a preference for sour things, fruit had become a staple in their recent diet.
"He’s been playing both sides for hundreds of years, but the frequency of his communication has dropped significantly over the last few decades. They used to meet secretly in person, but at some point, he started only sending subordinates or communicating solely through letters."
Zemel had said it seemed as though Monarch was completely preoccupied with something. Otherwise, why would he give up a Holy Relic he had cherished for thousands of years just to eliminate Turan’s forces?
"Combined with what Badal said before... it’s definitely suspicious. It doesn't seem like he’s just staying quiet because his power has weakened."
Of course, even if Monarch was up to something, it was difficult to focus their attacks there. The immediate threats closer to Parsha-Baraha were the Great Sea Serpent merfolk, the Carmine family, and the Ruban family.
"In that sense, there’s something I’d like you to do, Meisa."
"What is it?"
"A letter. Asiz finally succeeded in infiltrating a spy into the interior of Arabion."
This was a feat made possible because the Berk family had originally been one of the vassal houses of Arabion. While the late Berk couple had handled the most critical tasks, the knights who had managed the practical affairs were still around. Turan intended to use them to build a faction for Meisa within Arabion.
"Is that even possible?"
"I think so. Arabion isn't what it used to be."
Originally, the interior of Arabion was divided into three major factions based on age. Currently, the most powerful faction—the middle-aged high nobles who had persecuted Meisa—had been nearly wiped out. Not only was Kadram, one of their pillars, dead, but a significant number of influential nobles had suffered heavy losses in several battles against Turan.
The current mainstream of Arabion was actually the Youth Faction, who hadn't been able to voice their opinions back then. In other words, the group that was sympathetic toward Meisa and considered her persecution unjust. Some of them had gained stronger mana than before through the corpses of enemies and allies, and their influence had grown considerably.
"Of course, things aren't quite the same there either. Since we were at war, there are quite a few people who consider you a traitor..."
"I don't care about people like that."
What did it matter what people thought—those who had stood by with their arms crossed when she was suffering, only to start hurling insults once things exploded? Turan shook his head as he saw the sharp glint in Meisa’s eyes.
"Anyway, the goal is to collect more useful information through the group we want to persuade."
If Monarch had noticed the conversation held with Zemel inside the Soul Prison, he would show some kind of reaction. He wouldn't be so obsessively hiding information about himself for no reason. And when the other side reacted, there would be no faster way to notice it than through the spies planted inside Arabion.
*
While Turan was busy with paperwork to handle the aftermath of the battle...
Solif was enjoying a moment of affection, tightly embracing his lover on the riverbank north of the Land of the Lakes.
"Am I too late?"
"I missed you, Solif..."
Berit rubbed her head against Solif’s chest, her bright green eyes brimming with tears. Even in that moment, she was careful not to let her makeup touch him—a gesture that could be called considerate, or more bluntly, calculated.
After a moment, Berit blushed slightly and gently pushed Solif away.
"I think I might smell. I’ve been camping out here for a long time."
"I’m the one who probably reeks. I just came from a fight. I’m not a Zahar; I can't smell anything but your sweetness."
Though he had washed quickly upon returning to Kalamaph before coming over, there was no way Berit’s sensitive Zahar sense of smell would miss the faint scent of blood, guts, and filth. Solif had, after all, punched through the body of a Great Sea Serpent and torn it in two from the inside.
In response to Solif’s words, Berit didn't lie and say he didn't smell; she simply gave a soft, playful smile. She looked like a demure lady, a complete departure from her original personality. Turan would have openly grimaced at her "vixen-like" behavior, but in Solif’s eyes, it was nothing but charming. In fact, Berit acted this way specifically because she knew his tastes and wanted to cater to them.
"Has anything happened while I was gone?"
"No. Thanks to the magic tool your sister gave me, I killed all the pests that came to scout this area."
Solif frowned when Berit mentioned that one of them had even been a Zahar noble.
"A Zahar...?"
"They probably wanted to gather information on this area. Though, seeing as they only sent a minor member of a branch family, they don't seem to consider it that important."
Berit shyly confessed that since they were of the same bloodline, she had initially warned them to drop their stealth and reveal themselves, but she killed them when they ignored her. Her cold-bloodedness was eerily similar to Turan’s. Perhaps it was because they were second cousins.
"But the atmosphere over there has been strange lately. Before, it felt a bit lax, but now, something feels different..."
"They might have realized we were bluffing. That’s why I came here so quickly."
The crushing defeat of the Carmine and Great Sea Serpent forces had occurred only a few hours ago. Unless they possessed a treasure for spatial movement or a communication device aided by a powerful Enchanter like Meisa, there was no way the news could have reached them yet. In other words, even if they suspected the Baraha army’s weakness, it was a guess, not a certainty.
In such a situation, Solif’s appearance would serve to change their minds.
"Excuse me, Lady Berit! They’ve launched rafts on the river... Lord Solif!"
Just then, a Baraha noble who had emerged from the brush stood at attention, startled by Solif’s presence.
"Oh, Brother Arche."
"Uh... were you two close?"
"A little."
Solif gave a vague answer, finding it awkward to say they were gambling buddies. Berit, who had been treating Arche like a subordinate, suddenly looked restless. Arche Baraha, watching the two of them, shouted urgently.
"More importantly, it’s an emergency! They’ve launched rafts toward us, and they say the heir of Ruban is coming..."
"The heir of Ruban?"
That would be Kalais, whom he had met before. Meeting him didn't seem like a bad idea. While the chances were low, perhaps he could be persuaded to join them, just as Meisa had been. If they could normalize the Ruban family that way, they would effectively seize the entire eastern part of the world from the gods.
"Let’s go. Don't come out, Berit. It’s better if you stay hidden."
"I understand. Be careful."
Berit kissed her lover’s lips, regardless of whether Arche was watching. After a brief moment of giddiness, Solif regained his solemn expression and approached the riverbank.
"Uh..."
"Could it be?"
"Everyone, quiet! It’s the Family Head. Show your respect. Don't prostrate yourselves, just bow your heads!"
If everyone prostrated themselves here, it would be obvious that this camp consisted only of commoners. Following the instructions of the Baraha knight, the commoners gave Solif awkward, clumsy bows. Passing through them, he saw a raft floating near the bank with three or four nobles standing upon it.
"It’s been a long time, Solif!"
Kalais, waving cheerfully, looked no different than before. His massive two-meter frame, his muscular build, and even his jovial expression were the same. However, Solif’s face darkened as he looked at him.
"Dear me, I’m already too late..."
"Too late? What do you mean?"
"We didn't meet often, but Kalais always called me 'Pal.' He never once called me by my name."
It wasn't just the way he spoke; the way he looked at Solif was different too. The gaze that had once felt almost uncomfortably intense had become so dry it was practically hollow.
"My, I’ve been caught. You’re sharper than I thought."
Kalais—or rather, the former Head of the Ruban family who had taken over his body—smiled sheepishly.