Chapter 76
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 76
Kadram’s elderly butler felt a flicker of unease as he inspected the mansion’s cleanliness, his mind dwelling on his master’s recent behavior.
Something about the man had been strangely off today.
For one, he had returned in a frantic hurry despite the important family meeting scheduled for this morning. Furthermore, his attitude toward the butler had been bizarre—almost as if he were nursing a guilty conscience.
Then, just a moment ago, he had brought in a servant directly under the family head—someone the butler had only seen a handful of times—and issued a strict order that no one was to enter the basement.
In all his decades of service, such a thing had never happened.
‘Could it be…?’
Just as his thoughts began to drift toward a scandalous conclusion, the maid who had descended into the basement with Kadram earlier emerged, carrying a large burlap sack.
It was quite bulky, but judging by the ease with which she carried it, the contents didn't seem particularly heavy.
“Oh.”
Seeing her, the butler realized his suspicions were likely correct.
Unlike her tidy appearance from moments ago, her clothes were now disheveled, as if she had dressed in a frantic rush. Some parts were even torn, looking as though they had been forcibly stripped away.
Sensing the butler’s gaze, the maid let go of the sack with one hand and hurriedly smoothed out her uniform.
“He said not to come down to the basement for the time being,” she muttered.
“A-ah, I understand.”
The Kadram couple was known for having a remarkably harmonious marriage for nobles, and they took great pride in the fact that the master kept no concubines. It seemed that pride had met its end today.
Lamenting the shattered peace of the household, the butler quickly averted his eyes.
Because of that, he failed to notice that the burlap sack was roughly the size of a curled-up human, or that the maid’s height had increased slightly since she first went down.
*
“Hard at work, I see! Here is my pass.”
“Ugh, that smell… Fine, just get through quickly!”
The cart reeked of rotting food waste.
The checkpoint guard waved his hand dismissively, gagging at a stench he could never grow accustomed to, no matter how many times he encountered it.
Turan, disguised as a cleaner, gave a polite bow and pulled the cart through the checkpoint.
“Phew…”
How many days had it been since he’d been trapped in that Magic Realm, surrounded by suffocating walls and barriers?
Exhaling a sigh of relief as the oppressive weight of the enclosed space vanished, Turan ducked into a nearby alley. He flipped open the lid at the front of the cart and pulled out Reto, who was stuffed inside the burlap sack.
Bound tightly in chains and beaten senseless, she was currently no different from an ordinary person.
It was easier to get out than I thought.
The plan had gone perfectly: disguise himself as Kadram to lure and capture Reto, then disguise himself as Reto to leave the mansion, and finally, hide the real Reto in a prepared garbage cart to pass through the checkpoint.
Considering the days he’d spent practicing the disguises and secretly stealing the cart, clothes, and passes, the success felt almost anticlimactic.
He had even channeled a bit of mana from the Illusion Bloodline just in case an overzealous guard decided to inspect the cart.
Regardless, a smooth exit was a good exit. Turan changed into the white robes favored by Arabion nobles, slung Reto over his shoulder, and took to the sky.
Mages flying about was a common sight in these parts, so no one paid him any mind.
He flew west for about twenty minutes.
Once he reached the outskirts of Morgen City, Turan pulled out a single strand of red hair and cast a tracking spell to find his bearings.
Before long, he spotted Meisa and three Arabion nobles flying leisurely over a sparsely populated hill.
Using wind magic, Turan sent his voice directly to her.
[Everything went according to plan, Meisa.]
Of course, the Arabion nobles, who were experts at reading the flow of the wind, couldn't possibly miss the transmission.
“What was that?”
“It seems that man sent a message through the wind. Is he a familiar face?”
“First time seeing him. He looks a bit like Dex, but…”
Though Arabion was a Great Family with many nobles, their numbers only totaled around a hundred and fifty. Since they lived much longer than ordinary humans, they generally recognized all of their kin.
The only ones they might not recognize were the elders who rarely engaged in public affairs.
The reason they didn't immediately suspect him was that Turan was using the face of the boy knight he had used before, simply aged up. Since it was a composite of several Arabion faces, he looked hauntingly familiar, making them wonder if he was a relative they simply hadn't met.
Just as their curiosity was about to turn into suspicion, a massive discharge of electricity erupted from behind them.
Caught in Meisa’s sudden ambush, the three Arabion nobles were charred to death before they could even scream.
Looking down at the falling corpses, Meisa muttered as if in excuse, “All three were his lackeys.”
“You did well. Let’s move immediately.”
If they had been nobles from the Youth Faction, they might have tried knocking them out or persuading them to give false testimony about their escape route. But since they were from the Middle-Aged Faction, killing them was the cleaner option.
Having severed all ties to their pursuers, the two flew south at full speed.
*
The flight speed of a high-ranking noble was several times faster than a commoner’s run. In just a couple of hours, they reached Zabilin, the territory of the Berk family.
Instead of entering the city directly, Turan and Meisa landed in a secluded valley nearby.
Turan focused his consciousness on his Soul Tether, and before long, a golden eagle descended from the sky.
“Bije!”
Perhaps because she was so happy to see her soul partner after so long, Bije gave a sharp chirp, shook off the ropes tied between her harness and legs, and dove into Turan’s arms.
After nuzzling him affectionately, she landed on the ground and began scratching out a long, epic-style message about how much she missed him, followed by a nagging lecture on why he hadn't come sooner.
Turan, feeling guilty for leaving her for so long, nodded along to everything she wrote. Watching this from behind, Meisa burst into a small laugh.
Meanwhile, a man climbed down from the harness Bije had dropped and approached Turan.
“Took you long enough, kid,” the man spoke grumpily. He had gray hair tied in a ponytail and wore the typical attire of a traveler.
From a distance, one might mistake him for Turan.
Of course, up close, it was clear they were different people; he was shorter, more heavily built, and his facial features were entirely different.
Solif tossed aside his gray wig and sighed. “Do you have any idea how many days I’ve spent flying around here on this bird?”
“I thought you’d like it, since you’ve always wanted to ride her.”
“Maybe for a day or two, not this long.”
During the ten-plus days Turan had been infiltrating the Arabion main house, Solif had been flying around Zabilin wearing the wig and similar clothes. It was a precaution in case the family suspected Turan of helping Meisa escape.
Within the family, thanks to Asiz’s consideration, Turan had avoided contact with others while appearing to be active externally, thereby hiding the fact that he had ever left the Berk estate.
“Well, whatever! This must be the lady from Arabion. I’m Solif. Nice to meet you.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Meisa… Ah!”
Meisa reached out to accept Solif’s handshake, but she let out a startled cry when his hand and wrist popped right off the moment they touched.
Solif, having successfully pulled off his prosthetic prank, burst into laughter. “Success!”
“Don’t tell me you haven't fixed that just so you could pull this prank?” Turan asked, exasperated.
“Who do you take me for? I started the treatment a while ago, but it’s not healing easily. Still, it’s grown from the elbow down to the wrist now.”
Just as he said, Solif’s right arm, which had once been severed above the elbow, had grown back down to the wrist. It seemed the healer girl Asiz had brought in recently was working quite hard.
Ignoring Meisa’s bewildered stare, Turan lowered Reto from his shoulder to the ground.
“Now then, shall we unwrap the gift?”
Meisa would soon have to fly far away on Bije, to a place where Arabion’s reach could not follow. Before that, they needed to interrogate Reto for information and then dispose of her.
Reto, pulled from the sack, was a far cry from her once-tidy self. Her nose and cheekbones were broken from the repeated punches she’d taken during her capture, her eyes and lips were swollen, and several teeth were missing.
After a splash of water woke her up, she quickly scanned her surroundings. She immediately bowed her head toward Meisa, the only familiar face.
“M-My Lady, please spare me! I don’t know what I did wrong, but please, forgive me…”
Her nasal, pleading voice was so pitiful that even a monster might have hesitated, but Meisa’s eyes were cold, sharpened with a blue hue of pure hatred.
“Was it fun?”
“Pardon?”
“Killing my family. Was it fun?”
At that question, Reto’s trembling body came to a dead stop.
As if her previous act had been a lie, she lifted her head, clicked her tongue, and let out a deep sigh.
“Ah… so you found out? I knew this day would come eventually—Aaaagh!”
Meisa immediately blasted the nonchalant Reto with a bolt of lightning. The intensity was only enough to stun a normal person, but since she had been bound in mana-suppressing chains for so long, Reto was currently no different from a commoner.
“Keep talking.”
“I-I’m not sure what you want me to say… Like how much blood your mother and sister coughed up back then? Things like that?”
To spew such mockery even after being electrocuted—her sheer audacity was almost admirable.
Seeing a fuming Meisa preparing to fire another bolt, Turan quickly stepped in to stop her.
“Why…?”
“You’re too agitated. Take a moment to breathe. I’ll handle the interrogation for now.”
Only then did Meisa realize she had been on the verge of losing control and killing Reto. She couldn't let that happen. This woman had to die in far more agony than her family had suffered.
While Meisa stepped back and closed her eyes to calm herself, Turan briefly explained the situation to a curious Solif. He explained that this woman was a noble of the Zahar bloodline who had assassinated Meisa’s parents and worked as a subordinate for Arabion.
“A Zahar assassin working for Arabion? Why on earth?”
“That’s what I’m about to find out. Do you know anything about torture?”
“Not a clue. You?”
“I’ve never done it, but I think I can manage if necessary.”
Hearing their conversation, Reto let out a chuckle.
“You sound like such greenhorns I can barely listen. Listen, kids, I don’t know what that girl promised you, but you’d better let me go now. If you don’t, you’ll soon regret ever being born. Do you really think you can run from Arabion’s reach forever?”
Even while completely neutralized, Reto’s face was full of venom as she threatened them. However, Turan could smell the thick scent of fear and despair emanating from her. Her current bravado was nothing more than a brittle shell of self-abandonment that would shatter with a single poke.
“Anyway, why don’t you tell me something? How did you seduce that man Kadram? I never imagined I’d be ambushed there! If you tell me that, I’ll tell you something too. How about it?”
“I’m the one asking the questions.”
“Didn't you say you’ve never tortured anyone? Hurting someone isn't just about hitting, burning, or cutting. Torture won't work on me, so you might as well get information this way—”
As if trying to ignore her inner anxiety, Reto had been mocking them passionately, but she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
Turan looked up and realized she was staring at his face, her swollen eyes wide with shock.
“…Karim?”
“Who is that?”
At Turan’s counter-question, Reto gasped and shut her mouth, but he could already smell the confusion and bewilderment blooming from her. Conversely, Reto wouldn't be able to smell Turan’s scent; her broken nose was filled with the metallic tang of her own blood.
“Tell me. Who is Karim?”
“…You, who are your parents? No, what bloodline of noble are you?”
From her questions, Turan realized she had seen a trace of someone else in his face once again. After a brief moment of thought, Turan spat out a lie that came to mind.
“Talis Zahar.”
“What?”
“You should know who that is.”
In Komad, the port city of the Enril Desert, the lord there had remarked that Turan resembled Talis, the second-in-command of the Zahar family. If this Reto was a mage raised entirely within Arabion, she wouldn't know Talis’s face, but if not…
“…Now that I look at you, you do look a lot like him. Even the eye color is the same. It’s not like he got remarried, so are you a bastard?”
If she had seen Turan using the transformation mask, she would have thought this face was a fabrication. But all she remembered was being beaten by Kadram and waking up here. Who could imagine the existence of a Holy Relic that could change one’s face at will?
In her confusion, Reto even unconsciously leaked a crucial piece of information: the fact that she wasn't born and raised to serve Arabion, but was a noble born and raised in the Zahar family.
Turan didn't let his realization show and asked again, “Like I said, I’m the one asking questions. Who is Karim?”
Reto replied with a look of incomprehension. “He’s Lord Talis’s son. If what you say is true, he’d be your half-brother… Though, I suppose you might not know since he died during the war.”
The moment he heard those words, the clues Turan had gathered so far clicked into place.
According to what he had learned in Kalamaf, the man presumed to be his father was a young noble. Talis, the family head’s younger brother and second-in-command of a Great Family, wouldn't be young. If both Talis and his son resembled Turan, then circumstantially, Talis was likely Turan’s grandfather, and the man named Karim was likely his father.
More importantly…
“He’s dead?”
Hearing that the man he presumed to be his father was already dead, Turan felt a simultaneous sense of disappointment and relief. Disappointment that he could no longer meet the man who brought him into the world, and relief from the fact that, circumstantially, he hadn't simply abandoned his mother.
“Y-yes. Anyway, if you really are Lord Talis’s son, hurry up and untie me! I’m only here on the orders of the higher-ups! You know how terrifying your father is, don't you?”
Perhaps because a glimmer of hope had appeared in a hopeless situation, Reto’s attitude became desperate and groveling, a far cry from her earlier composure.
Meanwhile, Turan’s expression hardened at the mention of her being there on the orders of the "higher-ups."
It meant that the leadership of the two Great Families, who had fought a bloody war in the past and were still supposedly at each other’s throats, were secretly colluding behind the scenes.