Chapter 187
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 187
Leaving the gods of Carmine with a task to ponder, Turan did not return immediately to Kalamaph. Instead, he flew north on Bije’s back.
About twenty minutes passed.
Below, he spotted a young nobleman racing south, away from Carmine’s temporary capital. As a massive shadow loomed over him, the young man looked up at the sky and immediately prostrated himself in a deep bow.
“My Lord!”
“Get on, Borea.”
“Why did you not return ahead of me…?”
The young man serving as a messenger was Borea Shatik, a nobleman of the Earthkeeper bloodline from the southwestern Gray Zone. Having joined the Parsha Family’s army in place of his older brother, the heir, Borea was a soldier who had proven his loyalty multiple times—as evidenced by the three medals on his chest—and was a fervent follower of Turan.
“It takes less than thirty minutes to go back and forth this way, so it’s only right. It would have taken you another week to walk back on your own.”
“Surely thirty minutes of your time, My Lord, is far more precious than a week of mine.”
The neck that had been stiff and unyielding before the nobles of the Great Families, and even the Head of the Carmine Family, now bowed with absolute suppleness. This was precisely why Turan used him as a messenger. Only someone who revered Turan Parsha like a god could truly represent his will.
At Turan’s continued insistence, Borea climbed onto Bije’s back, shifting uncomfortably.
“You look a bit uneasy there.”
“It is just that… riding upon your divine bird feels like an act of terrible profanity…”
It was a bit excessive, but Turan figured this was a side effect of his deification that he simply had to endure. Bije, taking Borea’s words as a compliment, shook her body playfully, causing both men to let out a startled cry.
— You’re going to make us fall.
— I’ll catch you if you do!
After a light scolding to Bije—telling her not to think about dropping them in the first place—Turan settled into a relaxed chat with Borea. On the way out, he hadn’t had the chance to talk, as he’d been busy giving instructions on what to say to Carmine and how to handle various situations.
“How is the atmosphere within the family lately? You can be honest; don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear.”
Normally, it would be foolish to answer such a question honestly when asked by a superior, but Borea chose to share his genuine impressions instead of lying. It was already common knowledge among the inner circle that Turan possessed a mysterious ability to see through a person’s thoughts, a skill he had used to weed out spies in the past.
“Many expect that the next war is not far off. It has been quite some time since our last clash with Arabion, and Baraha should be finishing up with the Ruban Family soon. To be honest, after the last battle, I thought Carmine would become our enemy as well, but…”
As Borea trailed off and looked back, Turan nodded, confirming his suspicion.
“Yes, Carmine will become an ally. Of course, not on the same level as Baraha or Lavitas. They’re more like collaborators who might stab us in the back at any moment, so they’re hard to trust.”
“As I thought.”
“And from now on, we must consider Zahar an enemy.”
Borea gasped at Turan’s words. His face turned pale, etched with unmistakable fear.
“Are you afraid?”
“……My apologies.”
“Feeling fear is not a fault. Succumbing to it is.”
It wasn't hard to guess why Borea harbored such dread for the Zahar Family. He was of the generation that had witnessed the Arabion-Zahar War decades ago. Back then, the noble families of the Gray Zone had been forced to learn the hard way just how powerful those two Great Families were and what they were capable of. In particular, those who refused Zahar’s demands were frequently found as headless corpses the next day. If one had to choose which was more terrifying, it was bound to be Zahar.
After giving Borea a moment to compose himself, Turan followed up with another question.
“Setting aside the fact that the opponent is Zahar, are there many who feel exhausted by the fighting or are afraid of it?”
“There are some, but I believe more are filled with anticipation. After all, we have won every battle so far.”
Normally, no matter how good a fighter someone was, they were bound to stumble at least once in ten fights. Perhaps they were off their game that day, or the enemy was stronger than expected, or some other variable intervened. And when it came to a war between families, the number of variables was incomparable to a mere individual skirmish.
However, the Parsha Family under Turan’s leadership had always utilized those variables to their advantage. It wasn't as if they had just luckily won a few small fights; they were toppling Great Families one after another. It was no wonder the Parsha vassals regarded their patriarch as a God of War.
“Anticipation, huh.”
Turan felt a strange mix of happiness and bitterness. If possible, it was always better to avoid a war where people killed one another. But in a situation where enemies were lurking just beyond the fence, intent on harming them, shouting that one didn't want to fight was meaningless. The cry of the powerless was nothing more than the bleating of a sheep that didn't want to be slaughtered.
Once all these battles were over, once those enemies were banished from this world or eliminated, would it be possible to end war itself?
While he was lost in thought, Borea glanced at him and spoke cautiously.
“Though their numbers are not many, there are those who believe that at the end of all this, you might rebuild the Old Empire and ascend to the throne as Emperor, My Lord.”
Turan could tell from Borea’s demeanor that he was one of those people. Likely, a significant number of the young nobles who were devoted to him held similar views.
Emperor…
It was a word rarely used in the modern era, yet one that anyone who studied history would have heard at least once. It was a title for the master of humanity, proposed as an alternative when the word 'King' became taboo because it was used by the leaders of other races.
Ironically, even when the Old Empire was at its peak, the title of Emperor existed, but no one ever ascended to the throne. Night Hunter Otas, the most powerful of the gods, had little interest in the position, and the other gods were hesitant to claim they were superior to Otas. In a sense, the Old Empire had been an empire without an emperor.
And after the fall of the Old Empire, though some family heads claimed the title of King, none dared mention the name of Emperor. Only a leader who ruled over multiple Great Families would be worthy of such a title, and such individuals had all been vessels for the fallen gods.
But now, thousands of years later, someone had finally appeared with the ability to bind the Great Families together and unify the world. The Parsha vassals hoped their leader would rebuild the empire that ruled the entire world and become the master of humanity.
“I do not know if I can satisfy your expectations, but I will at least choose the path where more people can be happy.”
“The path where more people are happy?”
“If my loyal allies wish it, there is no reason I cannot become this 'Emperor,' but I will not coerce them if they refuse. A throne washed in the blood of friends who once stood shoulder to shoulder would have no value.”
“Tell those who think like you the same,” Turan warned in a low voice. Borea bowed his head respectfully at the sharp, commanding aura.
*
Upon returning to Kalamaph, Turan first informed Asiz and the rest of the administrative staff of the meeting's results.
The establishment of a cooperative relationship with the Carmine Family and the shift to a hostile relationship with Zahar—which had previously been a loose non-aggression pact—was a lot to process. The latter had already been discussed to some extent after Turan’s previous infiltration of the Zahar Family, but the former was an unexpected workload that made everyone groan.
“Then we can vacate a few of the watchposts in the northern mountains. The border near the Enril Desert is far too thin right now.”
“Do that. I assume the west is still being held well?”
“Of course.”
If possible, it would be good to establish at least a non-aggression pact with the Great Sea Serpent merfolk of the North Sea, but they were difficult to approach. It wasn't even certain if they still resided in the base where Armani had lived with them, and there was no proper way to attempt a safe negotiation.
The decisive problem was that, other than Turan, there were almost no nobles skilled in underwater combat. Of course, bringing along a large number of Carmine nobles could solve the power issue, but…
If I kept those Carmine bastards by my side while fighting the Sea Serpents, I’d be lucky not to get stabbed in the back.
When raising a wild beast, one always had to appear stronger than the beast. The moment one showed weakness, the creature would stop seeing the person as a master and start seeing them as prey. Similarly, the beast known as Carmine, which he had just tamed, should be viewed as a wolf, not a submissive dog. Their role was not as a companion to whom he could show his soft side, but as bait to be thrown into the most dangerous fray.
“For now, I’ve instructed Carmine to scout Arabion and Nagin in more detail. Their intelligence network has a long history; it’ll be better than ours.”
“And what are we giving them in return?”
“Nothing for now.”
“Just what kind of price did you promise them that they’d agree to that…?”
Turan answered Asiz’s muttering with an awkward smile. Seeing this, Asiz gave a light snort and shook his head.
“Fine, so you can’t tell me? Forget it. Tell me when you can.”
“Thanks, friend.”
Though Turan shared most secrets with his comrades, there was one truth he kept to himself: the fact that the fallen gods of old were originally ordinary humans from another world.
The reason he hid this was simple. Explaining it would lead to an existential crisis—the realization that this world might not be real, but a sophisticated fabrication.
There were a few among the gods who suspected as much. Claiming this world was nothing more than something inside an electronic game made of zeros and ones…
Of course, those who truly believed that were a small minority. This world was far too vast and complex to be a mere game. It was a massive continent where ten of their world’s largest countries could fit, with the history and interactions of tens of millions of people. Their world’s technology was far too primitive to implement all of this as a so-called 'virtual reality.'
Turan believed that this world couldn't possibly be such a fake. More than anything, if it were, the 'Return' that Monarch spoke of wouldn't even be possible. How could one return to that world with the body of a nobleman that didn't actually exist?
Of course, it was foolish to believe an enemy’s words at face value, but given that Monarch had succeeded in persuading the gods of Zahar, there was clearly some evidence. They weren't fools; they wouldn't have been swayed by mere words.
Once everything becomes certain, I’ll be able to tell the others.
Despite this, the reason he couldn't tell them yet was that Turan himself hadn't completely cleared his doubts. If this world truly was a fake, it would be a cruel thing to tell those who were wandering through it without knowing.
After setting the family’s course through the administrative staff, Turan still had a queue of tasks waiting for him. Specifically, he had to check on Lida, whom he had half-abandoned due to the infiltration mission and the summit.
“I thought you had completely forgotten about me, Patriarch Parsha.”
“I’ve been a bit busy.”
“My, you’ve lost much of your charm compared to before. You used to be much more bashful.”
Lida, acting like a jilted ex-lover, laughed behind her hand at Turan’s stoic reaction. She had been continuously researching soul magic with the White Elf Nia during the days Turan was away, and she claimed to have uncovered another piece of information in that short time.
“What is it?”
“The ‘leash’ I mentioned before. Surprisingly, there is a large individual variation.”
While he was away, Lida had conducted experiments by forcibly extracting the spirits of death row inmates. Unlike those who had solidified their spirits through soul magic, these extracted spirits could not return to their bodies and simply dissipated—a cruel method reserved only for the most serious criminals.
As a result, Lida discovered that even among the death row inmates, the number of spikes embedded in the heads of their spirits varied greatly.
“Many have hundreds, but in the fewest cases, there are not even twenty. I haven't accurately analyzed the reason yet. Since I only experimented on commoner prisoners, it likely isn't a difference in mana capacity…”
“It’s likely a matter of bloodline.”
Turan felt a bit sorry for Lida, who had been racking her brain, but he already knew the answer. The half-elves had told him about it in the past.
“The higher the aptitude for the Zahar bloodline, the fewer the number of spikes. This place is right next to the Enril Desert, so there must be many who carry that blood.”
“Oh… do you happen to know the reason as well?”
“Yes. I heard that when the Night Hunter placed the leashes, he requested that the nobles of the Zahar bloodline not be subjected to strong restraints.”
Although Monarch had now become a powerful soul mage—a mastermind feared and loathed by others—before losing his physical body, he had been nothing more than a troublemaker with mediocre abilities. In contrast, Otas had been the most powerful among the Frea Divine Clan in their prime; there was no way Monarch could have refused that request.
Of course, Monarch had cursed him out in his diary, but people usually badmouthed their superiors where they couldn't be seen.
Regardless, because the nobles of the Zahar bloodline were born with weaker leashes, they lost their ability to empathize with commoners, but in exchange, they were not subject to the restriction of having to submit the moment they faced the gods as spirits. Though it seemed no one else was completely without a leash like Turan.
“I thought I’d found something good, but to think it was for such a reason.”
“Still, we move forward by learning these things one by one. There are still many possibilities in soul magic that we don't know about.”
When Lida looked dejected, Turan told her about what he had seen recently to comfort her. He told her the story of the man who had obtained explosive mana by completely grinding down his own soul.
“Such a bizarre method… were you not able to learn it?”
“No. I suspect he wouldn't have taught me even if I’d asked.”
Since the man was now gone, it was purely speculation, but that was what Turan believed. Harun would have wanted him never to know the method of gaining power by burning his own soul.
“Come to think of it, that man was a bit like you, Lida.”
“In what way?”
“He was a bit… grandmotherly.”
At Turan’s words, Lida pinched his side fiercely, indirectly expressing that while she could say such things about herself, she hated hearing them from others.
After sharing a few more words about soul magic, Lida lowered her voice and asked.
“That aside, are you truly planning to go to war with Zahar?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“I heard it from Miss Meisa. It was just a passing comment, though.”
Lida spent a fair amount of time with Meisa outside of her soul magic research, acting as a mentor for the knowledge a noblewoman needs when giving birth. Normally, this would be a mother’s role, but Meisa’s mother had been poisoned when she was a child, so there was no one to teach her.
Thanks to this, Turan had also learned several facts he hadn't known before. For example, that a female mage’s physical abilities temporarily drop to near-commoner levels just before childbirth.
I suppose if that weren't the case, something terrible would happen during labor…
In the past, when Turan had to insert food into Meisa’s stomach because she couldn't eat properly, a metal tube that wasn't reinforced with mana had been crushed by the strength of her esophageal sphincter. If something similar happened during childbirth, it would be a horrific tragedy.
Turan pushed the grim imagination aside and informed Lida of the current situation.
“It’s not something that needs to be a secret anymore. Yes, that’s right. A rebellion broke out within the Zahar Family, and since the patriarch’s faction—who were friendly with us—was pushed out, we’ve ended up at odds.”
“Hmph… our Family Head should know of this as well. Could you perhaps send a letter?”
“I’ve already sent word to Lavitas. I’m not sure how they’ll react yet, though.”
Wasn't the reason Lida had fled Lavitas and settled in Kalamaph precisely because of the internal chaos there? Once they learned that Zahar, who had been neutral, had also become an enemy, the anti-war sentiment among the Lavitas nobles might grow even stronger.
As Turan stepped out after finishing his conversation with Lida, he suddenly felt a powerful presence appear in the base’s basement. The presence moved upward, causing a stir in the surroundings, before finally arriving in front of Turan.
“Ta-da!”
Solif, who had been away to oversee the Ruban Family, had finally returned.