Chapter 44
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 44
Landing in a clearing at the edge of the snow-covered forest, Turan watched as Meisa descended opposite him.
The first thing he noticed was her physique. He wondered if it was even possible for her to get any thinner; she looked even smaller and more frail than when they had last met.
And yet...
She’s incredible, truly.
Thanks to the Mimic Relic’s ability to sense the flow of mana, Turan could tell that almost everything she wore was a magic device. Her earrings, necklace, clothes, bracelets, rings, shoes—even several trinkets tucked away in her pouches hummed with power.
Perga, a candidate for the Zahar succession, had carried three or four magic devices, but this was on an entirely different level. It was the clear distinction between being one of many potential heirs and being the sole, undisputed successor.
Keeping a distance of about ten paces, Meisa looked at Turan with a hint of intrigue.
“It’s only been three or four months since I last saw you, but you’ve changed quite a bit.”
“Have I?”
“Yes. Quite a lot, actually.”
The Turan she had met at the Berk estate had seemed like a boy trying to act like an adult. The man before her now exuded a much more mature aura—a weight earned by carrying the lives of dozens on a ship, and then thousands more in the city of Kalamaf.
“I wouldn't know. More importantly...”
Just then, Bije, who had been perched on his bag strap, nudged his side with her beak, demanding attention. She hopped down to the ground and immediately began scratching words into the snow.
[Who is this?]
Bije usually didn't interfere when he spoke with others. Was she acting out of jealousy because he seemed too friendly with this stranger?
In a calm tone, Turan introduced them.
“This is Miss Meisa, a close friend. Meisa, this is Bije. She’s my family.”
Calling her a pet would be an insult to the golden eagle’s intelligence, and calling her a mere friend didn't quite capture their bond—a connection bound by their very souls.
Hearing Turan’s words, Bije puffed out her chest confidently and stared at Meisa.
“Family?” Meisa looked surprised for a moment, then smiled, clearly delighted. “Is she a magical beast you’ve soul-bound with? I’ve never seen one smart enough to write...”
“Yes. She’s likely smarter than most people.”
“Where did you two meet?”
“During my travels. Bije chose me, and we bound our souls through the mediation of the Tamer Bloodline.”
Nothing Turan said was a lie. He simply omitted the fact that they had met at the port of Komad in the Enril Desert and that he had technically purchased her.
“How romantic. I wish I could meet a companion like that.”
As the heir to Arabion, Meisa could easily obtain a powerful magical beast if she set her mind to it. However, most magical beasts were a hassle to transport. Tilly, for instance, was much larger than a normal horse and couldn't even be brought indoors. A magical beast as compact and useful as Bije was a true rarity.
“But what brings you here?” Meisa asked. “It’s not exactly the best time for traveling, given the circumstances.”
Turan answered honestly. He explained how he had happened upon a city called Kalamaf and, through a series of events, had ended up becoming its ruler.
It wasn't a secret worth keeping; she would find out soon enough if she traveled further east. When he mentioned the threat from the west that had slaughtered Kalamaf’s mages, she nodded as if the pieces had finally fallen into place.
“I see...”
“Do you know something about it?”
“Yes. In a way, you could say this is our responsibility.”
According to Meisa, the Arabion army had spent the last few months subjugating the Dark Elves, thoroughly excavating and destroying their underground kingdom. A few Dark Elves had survived the purge and fled east. Among them was a powerful necromancer.
“You said the Kalamaf mages went missing about a month ago? Then it was likely his doing. That’s around the time he fled. He probably wanted to replenish his undead forces. Seeing as only those who attacked this place were killed and the Gray Zone remains safe, he must still be lurking nearby.”
Only then did Turan realize why Meisa, who should have been busy hunting Dark Elves to the west, was here. The war had ended in Arabion’s victory, and they had come to exterminate the last of the remnants.
“Why didn't he flee further east?”
“He’s likely hiding in the dwellings of the dwarves, having colluded with them. That’s my guess, at least.”
“Dwarves? You mean the Blind Dwarves?”
Turan recalled a travelogue he had read. It told stories of Blind Dwarves who hid inside mountain passes that opened only once a day, dragging people away to be devoured. Come to think of it, the setting for those stories was this very Gray Zone. Though Turan had traveled nearby, he had never actually seen a dwarf.
“Yes. According to legend, the dwarves' dwellings within the mountains are so deep that even the gods couldn't fully purge them. Regardless, I’m glad he didn't go further east. It’s difficult for us to enter the Gray Zone for certain reasons.”
“Is it because of Zahar?”
“Yes, precisely.”
The Gray Zone was the land where Arabion and Zahar had once waged war. For a large Arabion force to pass through would be considered a grave provocation, so the army was currently scouring the outskirts without crossing the border.
As they spoke, Turan felt a mage flying toward them from a distance. He turned his gaze toward the horizon. Meisa noticed a split second later, suggesting she possessed a magic device with functions similar to his Mimic Relic.
A moment later, an Arabion noble who looked to be in his forties landed.
“Why are you here, Uncle?”
“I came looking for you because you were taking too long to return to camp. This place is too close to the Gray Zone. It’s not wise to be alone for long.”
Judging by the title, he was likely the younger brother of the Arabion Family Head. Based on his mana levels, which were comparable to Turan’s, he was undoubtedly one of the top powerhouses in Arabion.
However, the atmosphere between the uncle and niece was far from warm. Meisa looked openly uncomfortable, and while the uncle wore a pleasant smile, the vibe he gave off was cold.
“And who is this young man? Ah, it would be polite to introduce myself first. I am Kadram Arabion. I am Meisa’s uncle, and my elder brother is the Head of the Arabion Family.”
As he spoke, mana surged from Kadram’s body, exerting a heavy pressure on Turan. When Turan met it with equal force, a look of genuine surprise flickered across Kadram’s face.
“I am Turan of Kalamaf.”
“Kalamaf? My knowledge must be lacking, for I haven't heard that family name... Wait, isn't that the name of the city to the east?”
“That is correct. I come from a fallen noble line and don't even know my parents' bloodline properly, so I have no family name to boast of. The people of the city simply call me that.”
Upon hearing the term 'fallen noble,' Kadram wore a look of disbelief. “You don't look very old, yet your power is remarkable. I would have believed you if you said you belonged to a Great Family.”
“I once stayed with the Berk family. That was when I first met Lady Meisa.”
When Turan countered the suspicious questioning by pointing out his association with their allies, Kadram turned to Meisa for confirmation.
“He’s telling the truth,” she said sharply. “More importantly, Uncle, you should head back first. I’ll be along shortly after I finish up here.”
“But Meisa, leaving you alone in a place like this with someone of unknown origin is a bit—”
“Go.”
Her tone was high-handed and sharp, bordering on rude for someone speaking to an elder. Kadram gave a short, stiff nod and flew off into the distance.
After a moment of silence, Meisa sighed and turned to Turan. “I’m sorry. Just like last time, I’ve shown you an unseemly side of myself.”
Turan recalled that when they had parted last time, Meisa had also been losing her temper with an Arabion noble. For some reason, she seemed arrogant and cold only toward members of her own family. In contrast, she was surprisingly kind toward the Berks or outsiders like Turan.
“Everyone has their reasons for not being able to smile at everyone.”
“Thank you for understanding. If we have the chance next time, I’d love to hear more about your travels.”
*
After parting with Meisa, Turan patrolled the area for a while longer before returning to Kalamaf.
He had only been gone for a few hours, but the city’s officials, who had spent the day in agonizing suspense, nearly burst into tears when they saw him return on the golden eagle.
“Oh, Lord Turan! You didn't return, and I was so worried that something might have happened to you, I... I...!”
“Stop making a scene, man,” the civil servant Daruk muttered, pushing the weeping old merchant aside. “You’ve worked hard, Lord Turan. Did you find any clues?”
Turan gave Bije a snack and replied, “Fortunately, I found a lead. It seems a Dark Elf necromancer who crossed over from the western forest is the culprit. I also learned that an Arabion army is stationed about eighty kilometers to the west.”
“The... the Arabion army?”
“Yes. They’ll be the ones to subjugate the necromancer, so there’s no need for us to do anything.”
The hunt was hitting a snag because the target had hidden in the dwarves' dwellings, but given that Arabion had uprooted every Dark Elf den near Maderi City, they surely had their own methods of tracking.
Once he finished summarizing the situation and returned to his quarters, Bije picked up her metal plate and wrote something again.
[Turan!]
“What is it?”
[Meisa, who we met today.]
“Right. That was Meisa. What about her?”
[Meisa’s soul matches mine, too.]
“She matches you?”
It was the exact same thing Bije had said when she first chose Turan. Did she mean that if Meisa had met her first, she would have wanted her as a master?
Seeing his surprised expression, Bije quickly wrote and erased a few more lines.
[But I chose Turan.]
[Meisa has no chance.]
[Turan is happy!]
You’re a lucky guy to have me, she seemed to be saying. Turan let out a hollow laugh and stroked her head.
Still, it was something worth considering. Why would Bije’s soul be a perfect match for only Turan and Meisa, and no one else?
*
A week after meeting Meisa, Turan felt his role in the city was gradually fading. As the weather in Kalamaf grew warmer, the city was becoming self-sufficient enough to function without relying on the power of a high-ranking mage.
Aside from patrolling for the necromancer, he had nothing to do but practice magic, making each day feel almost tedious.
And as if reading his thoughts, a new task arose—one that only a noble could handle. It was the task of entertaining noble guests.
“Protector of the City, noble guests have arrived!”
“Noble guests?”
The civil servant answered respectfully. “Yes. It is a joint delegation from Bigen, Arond, Rummel, Ravana... all the surrounding cities.”
“Bring them in.”
A short while later, Turan met the nobles of the seven cities in the City Hall conference room.
“It is an honor to meet you, Lord Turan, Ruler of Kalamaf. We request your hospitality as guests.”
“I welcome you gladly. However, you will have to stay in the guest quarters here at City Hall. Is that acceptable?”
Kalamaf had returned to a semblance of normalcy, but housing was still scarce. The citizens returning from their flight needed places to live. Consequently, the central mansion had not been restored and was still being used as a shelter for the displaced.
“...The City Hall quarters?”
The nobles in the delegation couldn't hide their bewilderment. Since City Hall was primarily a workspace for commoners, its luxury couldn't compare to a proper mansion. They were already offended that they were being received here instead of a grand drawing room, but being told to stay in these quarters was practically an insult.
“I’m not trying to slight you,” Turan explained. “Kalamaf is currently short on housing. The central mansion has been opened to those who are homeless.”
“Opening the central mansion... that’s absurd...”
“Then... where do you, the Lord, stay?”
“I eat and sleep here as well.”
A high-born noble giving up his mansion to commoners and living in City Hall?
Hearing this, the nobles of the delegation exchanged glances, certain of one thing: this man named Turan could not possibly be a secret weapon raised by a Great Family. No matter how much they were acting, those arrogant people would never do something like this.
Is he really just a fallen noble?
He has no sense of dignity or status...
This changes the conversation.
Turan looked at the group as they whispered and asked, “So, I’d like to hear the reason you’ve come to see me. Who will speak?”
“I shall speak.”
The one who stepped forward was the son of the Lord of Bigen, located southeast of Kalamaf. With a sharp, intelligent face, he made an unexpected proposal.
“On behalf of our seven families, I would like to propose a marriage alliance with the Lord of Kalamaf.”