Chapter 175
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 175
In the distant past, there was an era when countless races gathered to form their own kingdoms and vie for supremacy.
During that time, the elves were the most diverse and flourishing of them all. Dark elves, wood elves, high elves, snow elves, and more...
The White Elves were a relatively weak faction among them. Unlike necromancy, which controlled undead magical beasts, or elementalism, which drew power from the natural environment, their "spirit-calling" was ill-suited for the battlefield.
Later, when the Frea Divine Clan arrived and swept away the races that ruled the world, the White Elves—already a minority—were reduced to the status of pets for a few curious gods who wished to study the potential of spirit-calling.
After the fall of the gods, no one had ever laid eyes on them again.
Until this very moment, when Turan stood face-to-face with them.
‘White Elves...’
Looking at the elves staring back at him with bewildered expressions, Turan realized why the half-elves of Ruban had been able to maintain their identity as White Elves. It was because of these people. Unlike the Baraha faction, who believed their kin were long gone, the Ruban half-elves felt a sense of duty to care for their fallen brethren.
‘Should I... hand these guys over to Lavitas?’
When he first met Lida, an elder of the Lavitas family, she had offered to reward him with a Lavitas relic if he brought her a White Elf spirit-caller. She promised a device that, while unable to extend one's spiritual lifespan, could perfectly halt the aging of the physical body.
If there was a spirit-caller among them and he handed them over—and if Lavitas achieved significant research results—he might finally grasp the path to immortality he had once craved so desperately.
"I've heard the story from Bartelesina."
At Turan's words, the White Elves' posture visibly relaxed. They assumed that anyone who knew that name couldn't be a mere accidental intruder.
"So, what business do you have here?"
Turan ignored the question from a female White Elf with a slender face and scanned the interior.
The facility housed roughly thirteen or fourteen people. Judging by the strong presence of animals felt from below, it seemed to be a self-sustaining structure that didn't require external support.
Had they been living here, generation after generation, all by themselves?
With such a small population, severe inbreeding should have occurred long ago. Then again, since elves lived much longer than ordinary humans, perhaps it wasn't as dire an issue for them. He didn't know their exact lifespan, but he had heard they lived longer than average mages. If they lived for about five hundred years, only five or six generations would have passed since the descent of the Frea Divine Clan.
"You! How dare you ignore the Princess when she speaks to you!"
One White Elf stepped forward, bristling at Turan's dismissive attitude.
However, the moment Turan lightly waved his hand without even looking at him, the elf collapsed onto the floor as if crushed by an invisible weight. A sharp gasp escaped him, the sound of air being forced out of his lungs revealing the sheer pressure he was enduring.
‘Their physical abilities are slightly weaker than dark elves, but stronger than humans.’
Subduing ordinary members of another race who possessed no mana—and thus no resistance to direct magic—was an easy task, even for a mage far less powerful than him.
More importantly, the woman they called "Princess" seemed to be the only spirit-caller here. He hadn't noticed it at first because the sensation was faint, but once he focused, he felt a flow of power—distinct from mana—similar to what he felt from dark elf necromancers.
"No, such insolence..."
Keeping that fact in mind, Turan walked past the terrified White Elves and located the stone monument at the back. Similar to the one held by the Baraha, it served as a vessel for souls and a stronghold for recalling spirits from dead bodies.
"Let's see."
Using the soul magic he was now well-acquainted with, he immediately released his spirit body and delved inside. He sensed the spirit of a half-elf. It was likely dormant, waiting for a suitable physical vessel.
Sensing Turan's presence, the entity opened its eyes and cried out in shock.
[Wait, you!?]
[Come out.]
With his Nagin bloodline active, Turan's spirit body was now powerful enough to subdue most gods one-on-one. The opponent was dragged out helplessly and imprisoned within a jewelry box.
After completing the collection, Turan shattered the monument with Judgment Light. The White Elves who had followed him let out a collective wail at the sight.
"Aaaah...!"
"The resting place of our ancestors' souls!"
"Do you have any idea what you've done!?"
Turan found their arrogant attitude strange, considering he had just demonstrated his power. Did they have no sense of reality?
After a moment, he realized they still mistakenly believed him to be a subordinate of the Ruban half-elves. He had only given them a vague explanation to prevent them from fleeing in terror, and they had believed it until now. Then again, it wasn't surprising that people who had spent their entire lives in this cramped underground space were so naive. Maturity usually came from seeing and hearing more of the world.
"Quiet. I have restrained all those who ruled Ruban. You are now my property, so stay still."
With that declaration, Turan glanced at the White Elf still pinned to the floor and withdrew the force crushing his body. Only the sound of ragged coughing filled the underground space occupied by the fourteen White Elves.
"Ruban..."
"What is that?"
"What?"
Turan couldn't help but look dumbfounded at their reaction. He couldn't believe they didn't even know the name of the group their protectors belonged to. It showed just how thoroughly the Ruban half-elves had isolated and protected their descendants. To be honest, such extreme isolation felt more like imprisonment than protection.
Then, the White Elf woman called the Princess finally seemed to grasp the situation. She glared at him with eyes full of hostility.
"Did you... did you harm our ancestors?"
"I fought them, won, and exercised my rights as the victor."
The White Elf's eyes flashed. Through his active spiritual awareness, Turan could see her spirit body emerging from her head. The technique to manipulate living souls meant one could also manipulate their own soul.
The spirit body of the White Elf woman was similar to those of the half-elves, yet far more grotesque. Her head was featureless, smooth and stark white, while her body was elongated like a snake or a centipede, with numerous human-like arms sprouting along its length.
When Turan manifested his own spirit body in response, she cried out in horror.
[You! How can you use spirit-calling...?]
[Go back inside while I'm still being nice.]
If she had been an ordinary White Elf, he might have killed her to crush their will to resist, but she was a precious spirit-caller. Since he couldn't afford to sacrifice such a rare resource, Turan tried to persuade her with words.
Unfortunately, instead of complying, she lunged with her centipede-like body, attempting to bind Turan's spirit. Turan watched the attack calmly, then reached out and firmly grabbed the elongated torso.
[Aaargh!]
[Go back. Or I'll tear you in two.]
Because spirit-calling was a lost art, the ignorant often held all sorts of fantasies about it, but through the Baraha half-elves, Turan knew its limitations were quite clear. If it were a power capable of harming a mage as powerful as him, the White Elves would have ruled the world long ago. Furthermore, having trained deeply in soul magic, Turan could easily dispatch hundreds of spirit-callers like her.
[Ugh... Ancestor... Give back the ancestors...!]
[I can't give them back, but if you want, I can let you see their faces later.]
[Is... is that true?]
[Yes. So go back to your body quietly. Otherwise, I'll kill one of your companions.]
Sensing that Turan's words were no empty threat, the spirit-caller eventually withdrew her spirit back into her head. The brief squeeze had apparently damaged her spirit, as she staggered and had to be supported by another White Elf.
"Everyone... do as this human says."
"But Princess!"
"It is an order."
Even with so few of them left, it seemed the authority of royalty still held weight. The White Elves bowed their heads, signaling their submission. Since he had been considering killing a few of them, this was a fortunate outcome for everyone.
*
After scouting the rest of the White Elves' hideout, Turan clicked his tongue in disappointment. He had hoped to find ancient books of the other races, but every book here had been written by humans. At least he found a few things that looked like diaries; perhaps reading those would yield some results.
It was awkward to open the jewelry box and shove his spirit inside while alone, so he decided to move the White Elves out of the hideout first.
"We're leaving?"
"Yes."
"But... there will be humans outside..."
The White Elves looked terrified, claiming that bad humans would catch and eat them if they went outside. It was truly ironic. In the distant past, it was likely their ancestors who had been eating humans.
Regardless, Turan held all the cards. They eventually followed him up to the surface, passing through the various barriers and defensive devices he had deactivated on his way down.
Several hours had passed since the nighttime raid began, and the first light of dawn was beginning to break.
"Oh."
"Is that... the sun?"
Having lived their entire lives in that underground hideout to avoid even the slightest risk, the White Elves stared at the sight with entranced expressions. Turan rummaged through his high-capacity pouch and tossed them several hoods and masks he used for disguises.
"Put these on."
"I see. This should make us look less like humans."
"But is it really right to follow this human's orders?"
"Shh, it's the Princess's command. Besides, we have no way to resist him with our strength. Let's just follow for now."
Once Turan confirmed the White Elves had covered their faces, he summoned Bije and increased his size. The elves were terrified once more as they watched a golden eagle appear out of nowhere and grow to an enormous size. A moment later, they were trembling as they flew through the sky on Bije's back.
"I-I'm flying... I'm actually flying..."
"Will we die if we fall from here?"
For those who had lived their entire lives below ground level, being hundreds of meters in the air was an utterly surreal experience. Transporting the trembling group took more than twice as long as the trip there. The increased weight of so many people forced Bije to fly at a slower pace.
By the time they reached Sloan, the capital of Ruban, the morning sun was illuminating the city beyond its black walls.
"What is that golden eagle? It looks huge..."
"It's a magical beast! Call the knights!"
"Why aren't there any patrols on the streets!?"
The city's residents were shocked twice: once by the sudden appearance of a magical beast, and again by the inaction of the Ruban knights who saw it. Naturally, while those living near the Ruban estate might have known, those in the outskirts had heard nothing of the previous night's commotion.
Passing the agitated citizens, Turan returned to the Ruban family head's residence and sought out Solif, who was busy issuing various orders.
"I'm back."
"You're a bit late. Who are those people behind you?"
"White Elves."
"Aha. Wait, what? Did I hear that right?"
Solif nodded absently at Turan's nonchalant answer before his face twisted into an expression of pure disbelief.
"And there's a spirit-caller among them."
"Wait, aren't they supposed to be extinct? Where did you suddenly..."
"They were living in an underground cave. I'll give you the details later, so just take charge of them for now."
"Are you heading back immediately?"
"I have to."
As much as he wanted to take the time to interrogate the White Elves and the Ruban half-elves to uncover the full story, creating a path back to Kalamaf was more urgent. He could handle most of the details on the way, anyway.
"Just keep them confined—similar to Armani, but with more restrictions on their freedom. I'm sure there's an underground dungeon or something here."
After giving Solif a few instructions, he went to find Armani. The merman was occupying a luxurious Ruban mansion, acting as if the frantic movements of the Parsha and Baraha mages were none of his business. He was currently enjoying a delicious breakfast prepared by the estate's chefs.
"You're certainly making yourself at home..."
"There's nothing as tasty as the food you humans eat. I can't help it."
"Well, I suppose it's better than what merfolk eat. Let's head back. Did you pack the Jade Mirror?"
"Of course!"
At Turan's question, Armani immediately pulled out a small mirror from his robe. It was the one that had been uninstalled from the Baraha capital; the other half was still set up in the forest east of Sloan. Once Turan returned to Kalamaf and installed this one, he could travel back through the mirror, move the one in Sloan to the Baraha capital of Helio, and everything would be restored.
Of course, that meant the troops currently here would have to return on foot... Well, since the attack had been so easy, they could afford a little hardship on the way back.
"By the way, who's that behind you?"
"A friend of yours."
The White Elf princess, whose name he didn't even know, looked warily at Armani, who was wearing a suspicious mask just like her. After sitting across from Armani and filling their stomachs with the feast he had ordered, Turan flew southwest, accompanied by one White Elf and one merman. It wasn't difficult for the three of them to ride on the back of the appropriately enlarged Bije.
"Ugh, I'm stuffed."
"Do you want to swim once we reach the North Sea? To help with digestion?"
"Don't say such scary things. I'm terrified I'll run into my father."
After a brief moment of banter with Armani to lighten the mood, Turan turned his gaze to the silent White Elf princess. She was still huddled up, wearing the mask and hood Turan had given her.
"You can take off the mask now."
"...What about him?"
"He's a merman. A merman prince. Come to think of it, Armani, what's the relationship between your people and the White Elves?"
Armani tilted his head at Turan's question. "White Elves? What's that?"
"Aha."
It meant they were so irrelevant to each other that he didn't even know what they were. Then again, they were supposed to have gone extinct a very long time ago. The White Elf princess, looking surprised by Armani's answer, slowly removed her mask.
"Oh... You're white! Unusually so!"
"Yeah, well, you're unusually blue to me, so it's about the same. What's your name?"
"Yucvalenia."
For some reason, White Elf names were all so long and difficult to memorize. Come to think of it, Resion's White Elf name had been long too. Was there a culture of using at least six syllables? Or perhaps it was because being a spirit-caller meant she held a relatively high status.
"That's a hassle, so I'll just call you Nia. First, I have a lot of questions..."
"Wait. Before that, show me our ancestors. You said you could show me their faces."
Nia glared at Turan with a determined expression.
Would it be better to break her will by threatening to kill the commoner White Elves left with Solif? After a moment's thought, Turan decided it was better to grant this small request. When threatening and persuading someone, it was important to give and take, much like reeling in a fish. Of course, he wasn't exactly a skilled fisherman.
"Wait a moment. Armani?"
"Yeah?"
"If her eyes start glowing strangely, attack her immediately. Just knock her off the bird."
After setting up a safeguard in case her spirit left her body, Turan reached into the jewelry box and pulled out one of the captured half-elves. It was the leader of the half-elves, the one they called a prince, who had been occupying the body of Kalais, the new Ruban head.
As is common with soul mages, Nia seemed able to sense spirits without manifesting her own. She cried out when she saw Turan's spirit body emerge from the box, holding the half-elf's spirit.
"Ancestor...!"
[Yes, your ancestor.]
While Turan and Nia spoke, the half-elf prince, who had been dragged out without warning, looked around and let out a sigh. The despair in it was deep enough for anyone to feel.
[Finally... our race's line comes to an end. Bartelesina, is this what you wanted? To preserve this wretched soul for just a moment longer?]
Turan watched him mutter in a theatrical tone for a moment before poking the spirit in the side. The half-elf, who had been wallowing in his role as a tragic protagonist, let out a groan.
[Stop talking nonsense and answer me. The Baraha lot didn't do this, so why were you people so desperate to pretend to be White Elves?]