Chapter 60
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 60
Bloodline abilities were formidable on their own, but when combined effectively, they became a truly terrifying force.
Just as the Head of the Arabion Family used wind to gather clouds and unleash a devastating rain of lightning, the magic unfolding before Turan’s eyes was no different.
What began as a mere flicker of flame was rapidly refined and distilled into a golden aura that manifested as piercing rays of light. As these rays gathered in a circular formation behind the silver-haired man to form a massive halo, the sailors recoiled in terror, their screams filling the air.
“M-Mage! Captain! First Mate!”
“Help us!”
In response to their subordinates' desperate cries, the two knights in the group reacted in polar opposite ways. One bravely drew his sword to strike back, while the other turned tail and fled.
In truth, neither action mattered.
Lashes of light erupted from the halo, cleaving through the charging knight’s blade and body alike, before whipping out to claim the head of the man fleeing into the distance. The fact that no blood or gore leaked from the cauterized wounds was a testament to the horrifying intensity of the heat.
“Wh-what?”
“Both of them… are dead?”
“This can’t be happening.”
Perhaps they had lost their grip on reality after seeing their leaders slaughtered so effortlessly. As the sailors stood frozen in a daze, not even daring to run, the golden whips split into dozens of strands and lashed toward them.
Turan watched the scene, which felt almost ethereal.
Light and fire…
He recalled the name of a family that wielded those two bloodline abilities. The Baraha family, a Great Family located to the east of the Enril Desert. The man before him was undoubtedly a noble from the far east.
Before he could wonder why a high-ranking noble from so far away was here, Turan realized there were few survivors left and hurriedly reached out his hand.
A massive surge of water erupted from the nearby sea, enveloping the three surviving sailors.
“Gah… Huh?”
“I’m alive!”
The seawater, infused with Turan’s mana, collided with the descending golden whips, sending up a massive cloud of steam. As a brief silence fell, Turan spoke politely to his opponent.
“Excuse me. I know you’re angry, but if we could talk for a moment—”
Instead of listening, the Baraha noble immediately manifested more golden whips from his halo and lashed out at Turan. They were chillingly fast, each strand curving and twisting as if possessed by a life of its own.
Turan frowned and activated his thought acceleration magic. He drew out even more seawater, intercepting each incoming whip with precision. In the process, he noticed that the actual trajectories of the whips differed slightly from what his eyes perceived—likely a trick of light refraction. Had it not been for the mana detection ability of the Mimic Relic, he would have been completely deceived.
By the time he managed to deflect the final attack, a thick shroud of steam blanketed the shore.
Phew…
It had been a brief exchange, but the extreme mental focus left his head throbbing. Without the help of thought acceleration, he might have taken a few hits. Fortunately, the opponent seemed to be aiming for non-lethal areas like his hands or feet, suggesting he didn't intend to kill Turan just yet.
Suddenly, a powerful gust of wind blew from the center of the mist, instantly clearing the steam. The Baraha noble stood there with a triumphant grin, holding a magic tool of a design Turan had never seen before.
What is that?
It looked like a wooden stick with paper attached to the end. The object unfurled into a semi-circular shape, and as he swung it, a fierce wind rose, fanning the flames forward.
“Tsk.”
Turan clicked his tongue and countered with wind magic of his own, dispersing the flames pouring toward him. While refined fire in the shape of spheres or spears might have been harder to handle, fire loosely fanned by wind to increase its volume could be scattered in this manner.
Seeing this, the Baraha noble asked in surprise, “What? You’re skilled with wind too? Are those two your bloodline abilities? I don’t think a family like that exists.”
Just as his opponent had done earlier, Turan ignored the question and retaliated by raising a massive wave. The sheer force of it was enough to crush an ordinary person to death, but this was merely a distraction.
The moment the opponent evaporated the wave with a wall of fire, a stone loaded into Turan’s sling tore through the steam toward the man’s abdomen. It was a perfect strike, launched while the man’s vision was obscured.
However, as the stone drew near, it vanished with a strange ripple. It was as if the space around the man had been devoured by an invisible monster.
What was that? A defensive magic tool?
Turan narrowed his eyes, analyzing the defense. Did it only work on physical projectiles? But it hadn't blocked the seawater, which was also physical…
His deliberation proved unnecessary. The opponent suddenly raised both hands and deactivated the halo behind him. The shore, which had been brilliantly illuminated, plunged back into darkness.
“I yield, I yield! You win. Let’s call it a day.”
His tone was light, as if the life-or-death struggle had been nothing more than a game. Turan stared at him for a long moment before slowly tucking his sling back into his pocket.
*
“You’ve got talent, friend. I’m Solif. And you?”
“Turan.”
Since they had already traded blows, there was no need for excessive politeness. Solif didn't seem offended by the short answer; instead, he pointed to the steam still lingering in the sky.
“I’ve truly never seen a mage who manipulates water this well. You’re not from the Carmine family, are you?”
“No.”
Mentioning a bloodline ability a person doesn't possess is one of the highest compliments for a mage. However, as his clipped response suggested, Turan wasn't in the mood for praise. He looked at the three charred corpses he had failed to save as the battle intensified.
“Hmm? Ah, now that I think about it, were you trying to protect them? Are they… your brothers or friends?”
“There was something I needed to hear from them. Dead men can’t talk.”
“Ah.”
Sensing the implication that he had ruined everything, Solif rubbed his ear awkwardly.
“Well, those bastards pissed me off. I was showing them sincerity, and they tried to stab me in the back.”
From an outsider's perspective, his anger was understandable, but he could have easily left a few alive if he wanted something from them—especially since he was also searching for the ruins of the Frea Divine Clan.
Then, Solif’s gaze shifted to Bije, who had been hanging quietly by Turan’s side throughout the fight. He seemed to be trying to change the subject to break the awkward tension.
“Oh, right! That Golden Eagle—it’s a magical beast, isn’t it? The one they were selling in Komad City.”
Bije’s mutations weren't extreme, so he usually passed for an ordinary Golden Eagle, but there were subtle differences. His eyes were exceptionally sharp and intelligent, and his wings were slightly longer than his body size suggested.
However, those differences were only noticeable to someone who encountered such creatures frequently. Solif seemed to have been certain from the moment he saw Bije.
“That’s right.”
“I knew my eyes wouldn't deceive me. I spent a whole month trying to get that fellow. How did you win him over?”
“I don’t know. I suppose our fates were aligned…”
Only then was Turan certain of the man’s identity. This was the successor of the Baraha family who had reportedly been rejected by Bije. Given the circumstances, it had to be him.
Of course, Turan didn't let on that he knew. There was surely a reason why the future head of a Great Family was wandering around alone—a reason he likely didn't want others to know.
Then, Solif held up ten fingers toward Turan.
“Ten times.”
“What?”
“I’ll buy him for exactly ten times what you paid. How about it?”
“Not even for a hundred times. Besides, Bije wouldn't want it.”
Seeing Bije, who was leaning against Turan’s side, nod vigorously, Solif let out a heavy sigh.
“I figured. Damn, what exactly am I lacking?”
That was something Turan was curious about as well. Seeing as Meisa also had the qualification, it clearly wasn't a condition unique to Turan, but even Bije could only explain it as a ‘feeling.’
Regardless, though Solif looked at Bije with lingering regret, he didn't push any further. It was a relief. If he had tried to take Bije by force, Turan might have had to kill the heir of Baraha.
But I don’t really get why he’s so obsessed with Bije.
Bije was Turan’s most precious family member, but objectively speaking, while useful, he wasn't a particularly powerful magical beast. He was smart, but he lacked abilities like breathing fire, summoning lightning, or creating invisible blades. Surely the heir of Baraha could obtain much more powerful beasts with his wealth.
As Turan pondered this, Solif suddenly pointed toward the corpses of the sailors.
“So, what were you going to ask those guys? If it’s something I know, I’ll answer instead. I’ve been wandering this area for quite a while.”
“I’m looking for a place where saltpeter is found.”
“Saltpeter? That white stone?”
“Yes.”
“They find that near my hometown too. If you believe the rumors about it being an elixir for eternal life, it’s nonsense. It’s just used to give color to salted meat.”
“I know. I just have a personal use for it.”
Turan had no intention of telling Solif about the Soul of Fire. It was hard to imagine the scale of destruction a noble of the Sun Bloodline could cause if he got his hands on such a thing.
After hearing the explanation, Solif stroked his chin in thought before speaking.
“You’re looking for a place nearby? Then… you should probably go to Parayan Island. It’s a few days' journey to the northeast.”
Turan looked at him in surprise. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve been scouring this area for a while looking for something. I was on a ship until recently, and I heard them talking about how saltpeter is found there as we passed by. I haven't been there myself, though.”
“Speaking of which, you said you were looking for the ruins of the Frea Divine Clan?”
Turan mentioned it briefly and then cut himself off as if he had no further interest. It would be awkward to show deep interest while the other man was exploring for precious treasures.
However, contrary to his expectations, Solif seemed delighted by the interest and began to chatter excitedly.
“That’s right! It’s a legend passed down on various islands in the South Sea about a god who fought Great Sea Serpents in ancient times, sank into the ocean, and never returned. A forgotten old god who isn't recorded in any scripture. Doesn't that just spark your curiosity?”
The story was so familiar that Turan almost reached for the Mimic Relic hanging around his neck. But the place where the owner of this relic died was definitely the North Sea, thousands of kilometers away…
Ah.
Come to think of it, there was a legend in the North Sea like that as well. An ancient magic mirror that connected the North and South Seas as one. What if the original owner of the Mimic Relic fought in the South Sea, passed through the mirror to the North Sea, and died there?
It sounded incredibly plausible for a theory he had just come up with.
“Are you looking for the god’s remains or a relic he left behind?”
“That’s probably impossible. I’m not a merman. For now, my goal is to find the dwelling where he stayed just before he left for battle. Since so much time has passed, any records left by the god himself are likely gone, but at least there will be legends. What kind of personality he had, which gods he got along with—things like that.”
Claiming his purpose was purely academic, Solif chatted away with the same cheerful attitude he had used when bluffing to the sailors earlier.
The story began when he happened upon the tale of the Drowned God at a southern port in the Enril Desert. Since then, he had spent the past year gathering information while traveling between ports adjacent to the South Sea and various islands.
Along the way, he sometimes met good sailors and became friends, and other times, like today, he fell into traps and had to fight his way out. He ate local foods he had never seen before and fought powerful Blue Marlin magical beasts and mermaid armies.
He said he usually acted like a commoner, as he had just done, and it was fun because it allowed him to see sides of people he never would have known living as a powerful noble.
Those stories were quite similar to Turan’s own adventures, and he found himself quite immersed. However, one thought occurred to him as he listened…
It feels more like he’s using the search for the god as an excuse to travel.
While he was thinking that, Solif grumbled, “But the atmosphere lately is just terrible. There aren't many sailors with a conscience left; they’re all trash like those guys earlier. I must have killed hundreds of those pirate-thug hybrids over the last few months.”
“Then you’ve made a significant contribution to the security of the South Sea.”
No matter how much the sea teemed with pirates, there surely weren't millions of them. Even if there were ten thousand, it meant one in every few dozen had died at Solif’s hands.
“Well, I guess I’m working as a vigilante on the side. Lavitas and the other families probably wouldn't like it… but it’s fine as long as I don’t get caught, right?”
“Doesn't your family say anything about you wandering around like this?”
“I ran away, obviously. They probably have a rough idea of where I am, but don’t you dare tell the main house I’m here. I’ll retaliate later. Consider yourself warned.”
Running away—it sounded like a remarkably immature thing to say for a man who looked decades older than Turan. Sensing Turan’s gaze, Solif gave a somewhat embarrassed laugh.
“Don’t look at me like that. I didn't just leave because I felt stifled. This is a journey to find myself.”
“From where I’m standing, you seem to be right in front of me.”
“No, not like that… Look at me. I’m living a chosen life, born with a perfect face, exceptional talent, and a great family, right?”
“Uh…”
Mages tended to have better appearances than commoners due to the influence of mana, which gave them straight postures and clear skin, but Solif was not particularly handsome by any standard. When Turan hesitated to respond, Solif took it as agreement and continued.
“But as I lived, the thought suddenly struck me. That I’m not my own complete self, but a manufactured being.”
“Manufactured?”
“Yes. I was strictly educated from a young age. You must act like this, you must not do that… everything from my personality and abilities to minor habits and speech patterns.”
“That’s—”
It seemed a bit excessive, but it didn't sound like a particularly unique story. Didn't people raise ‘flowers’ to be sent as concubines to nobles, or even wealthy merchants raise their children that way?
Solif shook his head, as if guessing what Turan had swallowed back.
“Yeah, that’s the kind of thought any child from a wealthy family might have. But our family isn't at that level.”
“Then?”
“Everything—from my interactions with others to my challenges and achievements—even the things I took an interest in and immersed myself in—was a manufactured lie. It was as if someone looking down from above was delicately sculpting me…”