Chapter 31
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 31
The sky following the storm was so piercingly clear it felt as if it were mocking the sailors who had spent the night desperately fighting for their lives.
Under the brilliant, stinging sunlight, the crew set about cleaning the deck, which had been reduced to a shambles overnight.
“Ugh, my back…”
“You should be glad that damn back of yours isn't broken, shouldn't you?”
“True enough, heh. I really thought I was a goner.”
The sailors’ expressions were bright as they traded jokes. Though their bodies were exhausted, the ordeal of the past few hours had instilled in them a strange sense of security.
Turan sat perched atop the mast, looking down at them with a weary face.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this drained, truly…
Heating the air below deck to keep the crew warm hadn't been particularly difficult. The problem was that he had to maintain it for hours. Furthermore, as the waves grew excessively violent toward the end, he had even stepped in to manipulate the surging waters directly to prevent the ship from capsizing.
In truth, most of his strength had been depleted during that process.
Unless one was the head of a Great Family, it was impossible to face the raw power of nature head-on with his current level of mana. However, looking down at the people working hard below, he felt his desperate struggle had been worth the overexertion.
In the end, no one had died, and the ship had not sunk.
Come to think of it, this thing was quite a help.
Turan pulled the Mimic Relic from his pocket. The reason he had been able to rescue people he couldn't even see through the blinding spray of the storm was because of the senses granted by this object. He had used those sensations as the foundation for his magic.
Considering that the primary method of neutralizing a mage was to blindfold them to prevent precise spellcasting, it was as if one of his greatest potential weaknesses had been erased. It meant that as long as the target was a living creature, he could cast magic on them even if they were behind a wall.
While he was marveling at the treasure’s new function, he spotted something floating in the distance. They were too small and numerous to be islands or reefs. Before long, he realized they were corpses and debris that had drifted away from some other ship.
“It seems those fellows couldn't withstand the storm.”
“A shame.”
As they passed the remnants of the nearby vessel, the once-lively sailors fell silent. Their faces turned solemn as they focused on their work. No one was unaware that, had it not been for Turan, they would have shared that same fate.
Having finished its repairs, the Blue Marlin resumed its voyage to the southeast.
They sailed for several hours, riding the wind and cutting through the waves. Finally, a dark shadow began to rise on the horizon. The center of the world, the Enril Desert, welcomed them.
*
Due to being blown off course by the storm, it took another three hours for the Blue Marlin to arrive at the city of Komad.
After reporting their arrival to the port officials, the sailors began unloading supplies and moving them into warehouses. Turan sat quietly on one side of the harbor, killing time while watching the senior crew members supervise the work.
It was only as the sun began to set that Pires approached him, carrying a sack filled with a bundle of gold coins.
“I apologize for the delay, Lord Turan. Here is the employment fee we promised.”
Turan frowned at the heavy weight of the sack as he took it. Having handled a fair amount of money by now, he could estimate the amount by its weight, and what Pires had given him was far heavier than what they had originally contracted for. It was at least three times more.
“This is too much. Wasn't the original agreement sixty gold coins from Carmine?”
“If we only gave you what was promised, the gods themselves would never forgive us.”
Pires explained that the captain and the entire crew had agreed to pool the proceeds from selling the pirate ship to provide this sum. He held out the bag firmly.
Turan shook his head and pointed to the crate he had been using as a chair until a moment ago.
“As you know, I’m already someone with more money than I know what to do with.”
This crate was originally from his cabin; since he couldn't fit the eight hundred Zahar gold coins he’d earned from the pirate ship into his bag, he had brought the crate along as a makeshift treasury.
Captain Pires laughed at the response.
“It can’t be helped, then. If you won’t take it, I’ll have no choice but to toss it into the sea.”
Behind the captain, the crew of the Blue Marlin stood watching him with gentle expressions that didn't quite match their rugged faces. It was as if they were all urging him to take the money.
After a long staring contest, Turan finally let out a short laugh and took the bag, stuffing it into the crate.
“If we ever meet again, I’ll buy you all a magnificent meal. Every single one of you.”
“It would be our greatest honor.”
Turan stood up and slung the two straps attached to the crate over his shoulders. Until he could find a way to spend this money, he would have to carry it around like this for a while.
As he began walking toward the city center, the sailors called out their farewells from behind.
“We’ll miss you, Sir Knight!”
“Thank you!”
“We’ll never forget you!”
Hearing the voices of the lambs he had saved, the crate on his back felt strangely heavy. It wasn't just because of the added gold; it was because he could feel the weight of the gratitude contained within it.
Turan’s lips curled into a smile as he headed into the city of Komad.
*
Komad, the largest city in the northern Enril Desert, boasted a population of one hundred and fifty thousand.
The attire of the sailors from elsewhere was distinct from that of the locals. The residents mostly wore hats with long, trailing cloths and one-piece robes that covered them from top to bottom. At first, Turan thought they were wearing skirts, but upon closer inspection, he saw they wore separate trousers underneath; the outer garment was more like a cloak.
As he was looking around, he felt a small spark approaching him from the side. Without even looking, Turan reached out and snatched the person’s wrist.
“Agh!”
A dagger about two fingers long dropped from the young man’s hand. He had likely been trying to cut the straps of the crate Turan was carrying. Knowing he had broken the man’s wrist, Turan didn't bother engaging further and continued through the streets.
Fortunately, even in crowded areas, the Mimic Relic’s function did not overly fatigue him.
As he wandered through the city, Turan spotted someone who was clearly not an ordinary person for the first time.
That is…
Unlike ordinary people, whose sparks were concentrated only in the heart or one or two other spots, this man seemed to be burning across his entire body. Given his exceptionally ornate clothing and the sword at his waist, Turan guessed he was a knight belonging to the family that ruled this area.
As expected, using the power of this relic allowed him to clearly distinguish between a mage and a commoner.
“Excuse me. Are you a knight of the Dirmin Family?”
Turan spoke as he immediately projected his power. When the mana of a master—strong enough to be the head of a rural family or a high-ranking member of a Great Family—pressed down on him, the knight cried out in shock.
“That is correct, My Lord. Please, give your command!”
My Lord? It seemed that in this region, they used a rather peculiar expression to address nobility.
“I am Turan, from Abacha. I wish to pay my respects to the master of this place. Would that be possible?”
Unlike those from minor rural families, the knights of cities ruled by Great Families or their vassals tended to be quite prideful. This was because mages from weak or obscure families often visited such cities during pilgrimages to demand hospitality, hoping to perhaps catch the eye of a high-ranking noble and produce a strong heir.
Therefore, if Turan had possessed the relatively weak mana he had when he first visited the Baltas Family, he would have been treated as just another guest from afar. However, the current Turan was several times more powerful, and thus, the Dirmin Family could not afford to slight him.
Still carrying his crate, Turan was immediately escorted to the palace in the center of the city. Without lifting a finger, he was provided with a bath and new clothes before being granted an audience with the Head of the Dirmin Family.
“A pleasure to meet you. I am Cal Dirmin.”
Cal, the Head of the Dirmin Family, appeared to be a man in his thirties. In reality, he was likely between a hundred and a hundred and fifty years old. The flames burning across his body were far more intense than the knight’s from earlier, nearly blinding to look at.
Having compared their mana, Turan could now use Cal as a benchmark to determine if an opponent was stronger or weaker than himself.
“Hmm.”
At that moment, Cal stared intently at Turan’s face, frowning slightly and tilting his head. It was a tiny movement, but Turan’s sharpened senses did not miss it.
“So, what is your name and family?”
“I am Turan Brahms.”
“Brahms…?”
“It is merely the old name of a now-fallen Guardian bloodline.”
The surname he used was actually the name of an ancient Guardian bloodline that had existed near the Carmine lands, which he had come across while researching in the library. While it was normally a grave taboo for a noble to impersonate another family, it was too dangerous to be vague when visiting another house in the lands of the notoriously devious Zahar. He wasn't the benefactor of someone like the Berk Family here, so no one would cover for him.
Fortunately, Cal looked at Turan’s trained physique and the dagger at his waist, then nodded without further questioning.
“I see. So… you wish to purchase a magical beast from our family?”
“Yes. I have a fair amount of money.”
To be precise, he felt like he wanted to get rid of this damn money as quickly as possible, but he didn't say that much. There was no need to reveal a weakness during a transaction.
“So it seems.”
Cal said this while reading the letter of recommendation from Captain Samudel that Turan had provided. It stated that Turan had traded a pirate ship on Miguel Island for eight hundred Zahar gold coins—essentially proving that the money had been obtained through legitimate means.
“We tame many kinds of magical beasts. Those you can ride, those that fly, those that swim, and even those that can use their hands… Tell me what you desire. There is nothing we cannot sell if the price is right.”
However, Cal added that it would be difficult to buy the truly expensive ones with only the amount of money one person could carry. He felt more like a merchant than the head of a mage family, which felt a bit awkward.
“May I see them for myself?”
“Very well. I am quite busy, so I shall have my daughter guide you.”
As Cal stood up to leave, Turan asked as if in passing.
“By any chance, have you ever seen someone who looks like me?”
“Hmm?”
“I felt as though you recognized me a moment ago.”
Despite his calm exterior, all of Turan’s senses were focused on the man. He hadn't expected the head of a vassal family—not even the main Zahar house—to show signs of recognizing his face immediately.
However, contrary to his expectations, Cal replied with a smile.
“No, it’s nothing. Truly. I just felt you looked a bit like someone I know.”
Turan considered pressing further but decided to retreat for now. Impatience always ruined things. Since he felt no panic or hostility from the man, he could afford to wait for a better opportunity.
A short while later, the Family Head’s daughter, who appeared to be around his age, led Turan to the pens.
“You have quite a lot of money for a fallen noble. Enough to buy a magical beast?”
Unlike her father, who had been quite polite, this young lady made no effort to hide her condescending attitude. Turan, however, didn't give her a second thought. It wasn't because her mana was clearly much weaker than his, but because his mind was occupied with other things.
Who did I remind him of?
Turan could find many similarities between his own face and his mother’s face in his memories—the slender face, the straight shape of the mouth, the somewhat large ears, and the ash-gray hair.
But there were also many parts that didn't match. The shape and color of the eyes, the bridge of the nose… While a child doesn't always inherit their parents' looks exactly, Turan had often tried to mentally sketch his father’s face using those parts of him that didn't resemble his mother.
Who had the Head of the Dirmin Family seen in Turan’s face? His father? His mother? Or someone related to both? If the Family Head knew them, they couldn't be of low status.
While he was lost in thought, they arrived at the pens.
“We’re here.”
“Impressive.”
Contrary to his expectations, the pens were quite luxuriously decorated. He had expected them to be kept in stone rooms with iron bars, but each magical beast was placed in an individual enclosure complete with trees, grass, and even a small stream.
Turan forced his thoughts aside and began looking at the beasts one by one.
A wolf… at that size, I wouldn't be able to ride it. An elephant? Too big and cumbersome. The horses… their size and mana seem far inferior to Tilly’s. Is that a snake?
He looked over the various beasts, but none of them felt right. When he asked the price of a horse just in case, the answer was shocking.
“That one? We’ve put a lot of effort into raising him, so I’d have to ask for about four thousand gold coins.”
Turan had eight hundred Zahar gold coins and a bit over nine hundred Carmine gold coins. Even considering that Carmine gold coins were slightly larger than Zahar coins and that he had some other miscellaneous currency, his entire fortune was less than half the price of that horse.
Turan immediately regretted thinking he was so rich that he didn't need more money. Just how expensive would Tilly be, given that she possessed far superior capabilities?
Then again, she was worth that much, considering she protected Asiz against two necromancers on her own.
Of course, she would have eventually lost if he hadn't helped, but even so, she was remarkably strong for a magical beast. It seemed buying a beast was excessively inefficient. Would it be better to find a family that crafted magic devices?
However, traveling across the desert while carrying a crate full of money was a hassle in itself, and it wasn't likely that magic devices would be any cheaper.
After wandering around for a long time, Turan stopped in front of a certain creature. A Golden Eagle, covered in smooth dark-brown feathers, was staring intently at him.