Chapter 173
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 173
While Turan was occupied winning the hearts of his mages with plays and medal ceremonies, much was unfolding across the sea in Baraha to the east.
“I believe the time has truly come.”
“I agree.”
Solif, having recovered from his grievous wounds thanks to Turan’s treatment, looked down calmly at the vassal lords of his family. Their eyes gleamed with a fervor that wasn't entirely positive.
As his friend had noted before, their faces were still shadowed by the lingering fatigue of war, but their gaze held a different kind of vigor.
Hatred.
Pleasure isn't the only thing that drives a weary soul. If one were to ask which was the more powerful motivator, it was undoubtedly the latter.
“It has been nearly a month since the last battle, and the wounded have all recovered. In contrast, the new head of the Ruban family—the one who dueled you, Lord Solif—must still be nursing his wounds. Now is our chance!”
Solif read both malice and expectation in the gazes fixed upon him.
Their expectations likely stemmed from the overwhelming combat prowess Solif had displayed in the previous conflict—and the fact that, despite being heavily injured, he had faced the Ruban family head and returned alive.
“Well, I didn't intend to leave them be either. However, I have my own plans for the assault, so I’d appreciate it if you didn't act too hastily.”
“A plan, you say...?”
“It’s a secret. Just like before.”
At Solif’s words, the Baraha nobles exchanged glances but did not protest. Since his previous "secret plan" had been a resounding success, they assumed this one would be as well.
Though he hadn't yet reached the level of absolute influence Turan held within the Parsha family, Solif was gradually shedding his negative reputation as a fugitive, a usurper who killed his adoptive father, and a puppet of the Parsha family head.
Ultimately, the leadership qualities people desired—regardless of morality—were competence, the ability to protect one's own, and the power to crush enemies.
“Are the war preparations proceeding steadily?”
“Yes. We are also replenishing the magic devices lost in the last battle.”
At Solif’s question, the head of the Ativ family—an enchanter house under Baraha—bowed his head with a stiff expression. His family harbored a deep grudge, as the city they ruled had been devastated during Ruban’s previous march.
“Good. I hear things are wrapping up on the other side as well... so we strike Ruban tonight.”
“Tonight, my lord?”
The very people who had been pestering him to attack just moments ago now looked taken aback by the sudden timeline.
A war between Great Houses wasn't child's play. To an outsider, it sounded as if he were deciding to raid a neighbor’s house on a whim. Even if an army of mages was faster than ordinary infantry, it should have taken weeks to march to the Ruban capital.
Seeing their expressions, Solif let out a short laugh. They had been acting so impatient to invade just a second ago!
“This isn't some impulsive thought; it’s all part of the plan, so don't worry.”
If that was the case, they had nothing more to say. They had no choice but to obey the master of Baraha, the man who had proven his strength.
*
That evening, the mages of Baraha gathered in the hall beneath the Sun Temple, following their lord’s orders.
“Another war?”
“I’m sick of this...”
“Shh, keep it down.”
Unlike the lords who had suffered direct losses from the Ruban family’s advance, the majority of the Baraha mages were feeling the crushing weight of continuous combat, just as Turan had perceived.
However, they couldn't openly defy their superiors. They had no choice but to throw themselves into the fray, resigned to their fate.
To their utter surprise, waiting for them in the hall were about three hundred additional mages.
“Uh...?”
“Y-you guys!?”
“Good to see you. Was your name Roby? I think we met during the last push.”
They were the Parsha mages, their faces familiar to those who had participated in the recent battles. Who could have imagined they were staying beneath the Sun Temple?
If the relationship between the Parsha and Baraha families hadn't been special—and if the high-ranking officials of Baraha weren't standing nearby with calm expressions—the mages would have screamed "invaders" immediately.
“But what are you doing here...?”
“War, obviously.”
When a Baraha knight asked a Parsha knight he was acquainted with, the answer made him let out a faint sigh. He already knew, but having it confirmed made him feel even worse.
In contrast, the Parsha knight across from him was grinning ear to ear, his feet tapping in restless anticipation. He looked like a warmonger itching for a fight.
“What are you so happy about?”
“Why wouldn't I be? We have to fight and win to preserve our families and our house.”
To hear the same clichés superiors spout when mobilizing for war coming from a fellow knight... The Baraha knight looked at him as if he were insane, but then he noticed several pieces of metal pinned to the other man’s chest.
“By the way, what are those?”
“Oh, these?”
As if he had been waiting to be asked, the Parsha knight began to ramble with a bright expression.
“These are called medals. They commemorate our past battles—tokens that only true warriors receive. The Lord himself called out my name and pinned them on me personally—”
While the Baraha knight’s mind went numb from the breathless bragging, a loud clap echoed through the hall, drawing everyone’s attention.
It was a sound loud enough to command the focus of all thousand people in the room. Naturally, the one who made it was the head of Baraha, Solif.
“Alright, everyone found their way without getting lost. We’re going to fight now.”
“Whoo!”
At the sudden cheers, the Baraha mages looked around in bewilderment. For some reason, the Parsha reinforcements seemed more excited than the people whose war it actually was.
“Originally, I planned to move us in secret, but since there are so many of us this time, I’ve decided to just make it public. Most people who need to know probably know by now anyway.”
The original reason for keeping the Jade Mirror a secret was to avoid the attention of the Great Sea Serpent’s faction, but since they had already been discovered, there was no need to keep hiding it.
Because of that, it wasn't long before the Baraha mages witnessed the existence of the Jade Mirror for the first time.
“Whoa...”
“We’ve been using this all along?”
The sight of a massive mirror, five meters tall, glowing brilliantly and tearing a rift in space, was a marvel even to mages accustomed to the arcane.
Watching them, Solif smirked.
“Now, as you all know, we aren't going to waste days and nights trekking across the ground like some petty family. On the other side of this is Sloan, the capital of Ruban.”
“Ooh...”
“We march the moment we step through. Let’s go!”
Stepping through to the world beyond the mirror, the Baraha mages shuddered as they felt that familiar, disorienting sensation they had experienced a few times before.
The sharp, biting air unique to the Frostwind Forest licked their cheeks—a stark contrast to the Land of the Five Lakes, which had grown warm with the arrival of early spring.
“We’re here.”
“Is this Sloan?”
“Over there.”
Following a pointing finger, the mages let out gasps of awe and groans of realization. In the dead of night, they saw a city of black walls bathed in quiet moonlight.
“You’ve arrived.”
“We greet the Lord!”
At that moment, a low voice spoke, and the Parsha mages bowed in unison.
The head of the Parsha family, Turan, was looking down at them from a tree with the golden eagle, Bije, perched on his shoulder. Beside him was a small figure wearing a mask, their gender indistinguishable.
The Parsha mages, who didn't know Armani’s true identity but knew of his existence, glanced at him with curious expressions.
“It’s too loud, so keep your voices down. Where’s Solif?”
“He’ll be here shortly.”
As if to prove the Baraha noble’s words, Solif emerged from the mirror moments later. With that, the Parsha-Baraha Allied Forces were perfectly assembled on the outskirts of Sloan, the capital of the Ruban family.
“You’re later than scheduled.”
“Sorry, I was taking a shit.”
“Spare me the disgusting details... Anything special to report?”
“Nothing. You?”
“Nothing here either.”
It was a conversation far too informal for the heads of Great Houses, but that was the nature of friends of the same age—even if there was actually a significant age gap between the two of them.
“Arn had a harder time than me. Bije doesn't like carrying him, so I had to carry him on my back.”
“Good grief.”
The mermaid boy called Arn—Armani—fidgeted as if he wanted to say something, but he felt the eyes around him and kept his mouth shut. Aware that his way of speaking was unusual, he avoided talking when surrounded by strangers.
“Good job, kid.”
This invasion of Ruban was being carried out in the exact opposite manner of the last one. Back then, Baraha had made a grand, noisy march, announcing their attack to the world. This time, even the family’s nobles hadn't been informed until the very day of the raid.
The Parsha side had been equally secretive. They had gathered their mages—who were at a peak of enthusiasm after receiving their medals—and kept them in the basement of the Baraha mansion for several days under the guise of "joint training."
During that time, Turan had Armani retrieve the Jade Mirror from the Parsha side, then flew directly to the outskirts of Sloan on Bije to set up a new mirror, creating a spatial gate that allowed them to jump directly from Baraha to Ruban.
“We have to settle this in one go. If the fight drags on, it’ll be revealed that our main house is vulnerable.”
Of course, half the mobilizable army and Meisa remained at the main house, but it was hard to guarantee they could fend off an enemy that attacked with full determination. Turan had told Meisa to run if things looked truly dire, but he wasn't sure if she would actually follow that order.
Meisa knew that even if she didn't share his protective instinct for commoners, Turan would feel a sense of personal failure if he couldn't protect his 'lambs.'
“If I hear any more of this, I’m going to grow scabs on my ears. Don't worry. Based on our last fight, that bastard is nothing if you and I tag-team him. Let’s finish this quickly and go home.”
Solif shook his head at Turan’s nagging. Knowing that Solif would carry out the operation diligently despite his words, Turan returned to his Parsha troops and briefly explained the plan.
In truth, it wasn't complex enough to be called a grand strategy.
“From now on, we advance straight ahead, scale the walls, and immediately raid their headquarters. Take those who surrender as prisoners, but if you don't have the hands to spare, kill them.”
“Yes, Lord Turan!”
No one asked how they would get over the walls of Sloan. They assumed Turan would handle it. At the very least, their lord never gave them unsolvable problems.
In contrast, several questions were exchanged on Solif’s side. Though they didn't seem entirely convinced by the answer that "it’ll work out," they followed along anyway.
A moment later, the allied army left the forest and began to move toward Sloan. Even late at night, a group of over a thousand people moving across a field of short weeds was bound to be noticed.
“Of all times, the moon is too bright... We’ll be spotted in no—wait, what?”
A Baraha noble let out a gasp as the moon, which had been shining brightly, grew strangely dim. They soon realized that a translucent black veil was enveloping the entire army.
The Baraha mages were startled by the unfamiliar sight, but they calmed down after being barked at to stay still and seeing the Parsha mages smirking at them.
At the front of the column, Solif looked back and whistled.
“Is this one of those new techniques you mentioned? It’s my first time seeing it in person.”
“That’s right.”
Veil of Night.
This skill, born from the combination of Zahar bloodlines, shrouded an object in a mantle of stealth. While it wasn't as absolute as the Zahar’s personal concealment—which even blocked deduction through traces—it masked both form and sound, making them nearly impossible to detect through conventional means.
As the two armies arrived before the walls, undetected under the protection of the black veil, Turan manipulated the holy relic on his chest to draw out the power of the Carmine bloodline.
Fortunately, in this subarctic region, there was plenty of snow that hadn't yet melted.
Ssssh.
Snow infused with mana gathered, creating a high ramp leading up to the dozen-meter-high walls. It was wide enough for dozens of people to pass at once.
While the mages scaled the wall in admiration, Solif whispered to Turan.
“You’re not using too much mana, are you?”
“For something like this? There’s so much snow here that it barely cost anything.”
If he had to create a massive amount of ice from nothing, even Turan would have felt the drain. But shaping existing snow was much more efficient.
Soon, the Parsha-Baraha mages, having created a ramp down the other side as well, looked around the deathly quiet city.
“It’s incredibly quiet.”
“I thought there’d be some taverns open, even at night...”
“It’s likely the cold. In hot regions, people stay in during the day and come out at night. Here, it's the opposite.”
“Even so, to not even have guards on patrol...”
While the others marveled at the city's stillness, the army passed through the deserted main street and reached the inner walls of the Ruban family estate.
“This is as far as the veil goes.”
Although the Ruban family didn't surround themselves with light orbs like the Arabion family, they had minimal measures to detect stealthy intruders. The Veil of Night had served its purpose.
Turan used wind magic to carry his voice to every mage behind him.
“In five seconds, I will deactivate the veil and blast a hole right in front of us. We attack through there.”
As everyone tensed at the countdown, Turan pulled a familiar object from his robe.
A magic-infused sling and a steel ball.
As the two items—now symbols of the Parsha family head—began to spin, an invisible path of electricity crackled into existence. Then came the flash and the roar.
It was a sound familiar to those who had fought in the recent battles, and to the Ruban mages who had recently marched south.
With a thunderous boom—the signature roar of the railgun—the massive front gate of the Ruban estate shattered, announcing the start of the war.