Chapter 89
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 89
Back when he had encountered that storm aboard the Blue Marlin, Turan had been forced to exhaust every ounce of his strength just to save the ship from disaster. He’d had to look after sailors being tossed around by the wind and waves, keep them warm with his heat, and desperately maintain the balance of the massive sailing vessel.
Compared to then, his current situation was far better.
First, the size and weight of the boat he had to protect were hundreds of times smaller, while his own mana had increased several times over. Most importantly, instead of helpless sailors, he had two mages of equal or greater rank by his side. A storm like the one before was no longer something to be feared.
The problem was that this particular storm was far more violent than the last.
"Wow, I really thought I was going to die..."
"Stop exaggerating."
Once the storm finally passed, every member of Turan’s group lay sprawled on the deck, groaning in exhaustion.
Every time a wave several meters high surged toward them, they’d had to use psychokinesis to hold the boat steady and prevent it from capsizing. When massive swells over ten meters high approached, they had to point the bow forward to cut through the wall of water. When the wind grew too fierce and the boat began to tilt, they had to constantly use wind magic to create counter-currents to block the gale.
After doing this all day without a moment's rest, their mana was depleted, and their heads throbbed from the sheer mental strain. Turan was certain that if the Blue Marlin had encountered a storm of this magnitude, it would have sunk long ago. He would have been left floating in the middle of the ocean, waiting for rescue or forced to swim to the nearest shore himself.
[Are you tired?]
"Quite... Are you okay? You were flying all day."
[Yep! I'm perfectly fine!]
Bije, who had stayed high in the sky to avoid the worst of the storm, looked as energetic as the letters she scratched into the wood. While flying long distances while carrying passengers was exhausting, simply gliding at a high altitude to pass the time was nothing for a Golden Eagle magical beast.
Bije pecked at the deck with her claws to write again.
[Should I carry this piece of wood?]
"That would be difficult, no matter how you look at it. I appreciate the thought, though."
Powerful as Bije was, it was physically impossible for her to fly while carrying a boat that weighed thousands of times more than herself.
After recovering some energy while chatting with Bije, Turan sat up and burst into laughter at the sight of his two companions.
"What is it?"
"You both look like a mess... though I probably look the same."
Because they’d had to stay on deck and coordinate their magic to manage the boat throughout the storm, they all looked like drowned rats. The sight of the two of them lying exhausted on the deck only added to the comedy.
Unlike Solif, who simply rested the back of his head on the deck again as if to say "so what," Meisa hurriedly sat up and began tidying her hair.
A short while later, once they had regained enough strength, they took turns going below deck to wash up, eat, and rest before searching for a nearby island. It was hard to tell how far they had drifted from their intended course during the chaos.
Bije scouted the surroundings and informed them that there was a fairly large island a short distance to the east. They steered the boat toward it, and before long, Turan let out a hollow laugh at the sight of the landmass.
"What is it?"
"No, it’s just ridiculous. We ended up exactly where we wanted to go."
Since they had been heading in this general direction before the storm hit, it wasn't entirely a coincidence, but they were certainly lucky. The place Turan’s group had arrived at was Miguel Island, their original destination.
*
The scenery of Miguel Island, which he was visiting for the first time in months, remained unchanged. Merchant ships filled the spacious harbor, drunken sailors brawled in the streets, and prostitutes cast flirtatious glances at the newcomers.
The only real difference was the clothing; people wore much lighter attire now that it was midsummer, unlike his previous visit in the dead of winter.
While docking the boat and speaking with the harbor official, the man marveled at the small fishing boat Turan’s group had arrived in.
"You sailed this all the way from the continent? Hah, ordinary folks like us wouldn't dare try that even if we had ten lives... You truly are impressive."
Judging by their high-quality attire and the fact that they had reached an island in the middle of the North Sea in such a small vessel, the official guessed their high status and maintained an extremely humble attitude.
Turan nodded and asked a question he’d been curious about. "The storm this time was no joke. It’s not usually that bad, is it?"
"There have been many rumors lately that the weather has taken a turn for the worse. On top of that, the merfolk have been more aggressive than before, so the number of ships choosing the routes near here has decreased significantly."
Hearing that and looking around the harbor again, the atmosphere did feel slightly less vibrant than before. It was still crowded, but there was a sense that something was missing.
After finishing the paperwork, Turan’s group decided to rest at an inn further inland. As they walked down the street, a sailor with a flushed, drunken face stared at Meisa before approaching her.
"Hey, pretty lady. How much for a day? I can go up to five silver—Gah!"
The hand he had reached out toward her chest was suddenly bent at a right angle to his arm with a sickening crack. Meisa, who had struck him reflexively, looked momentarily flustered, but she quickly hardened her expression and snapped coldly.
"Get lost!"
"Th-this crazy bitch hit me! Aaaagh!"
Turan watched as the sailor’s companions rushed over with furious expressions. He let out a light sigh and snapped his fingers, conjuring a flame just as he had done in the past. Naturally, the sailors froze in their tracks as if turned to stone.
"W-we're sorry!"
Watching the sailors scramble away, Turan gave a small snort and looked around. More than a few eyes were on them now. Thanks to this, the rumor that mages had arrived on the island was sure to spread quickly.
Turan spoke to Meisa, who was staring at the hand she had used to strike the sailor. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Being looked at like that... it feels much worse than I imagined."
It was unlikely Meisa had ever been subjected to such vulgar advances before. Not only was she the successor of the Arabion family, but her appearance had never been considered conventionally attractive. The closest thing she’d experienced was the marriage proposal from the Baltas family, and even then, they had been far more polite than this.
After lightly comforting her as she dealt with the unpleasantness, Turan’s group found a good inn and spent a day and a half idling around to recover from the fatigue of their intense voyage.
The next day, Turan led his companions to the best tavern on Miguel Island, the same one he had visited before. The restaurant attached to their inn wasn't bad, but in his experience, the food and drink here were superior. In particular, since Meisa could still only eat about a handful of food per meal, he wanted to make sure she ate something delicious.
"Welcome, guests. Is there something you are looking for?"
Since the doorman he’d met before didn't recognize him, Turan had to give him another "lesson," and the waiter’s attitude was now beyond polite. Turan ordered appetizers like ham and date palms, along with a distilled wheat spirit.
As they relieved the fatigue of their voyage with good food, they discussed their future plans.
"By the way, hunting magical beasts is proving more difficult than I thought."
"Honestly, I thought we'd find at least one right away."
Turan shook his head. "Well, we just have to be patient. I’ve started thinking we might need to stay here for a few years. Or we could explore other regions."
"Actually, I think that other place would have been fine too. Those Sky Mountains? To the west of them."
When they left the Nagin family's territory, one of the suggestions Solif had made was to go beyond the Sky Mountains, which were considered the western boundary of the world. Since they had Bije, a high mountain range wouldn't be an obstacle.
Despite it being a tempting idea, there were two main reasons Turan had rejected it and flown east instead. First, no one had ever explored that area and returned; even the Librarian didn't know what lay beyond. Though they were a group of exceptionally powerful mages, it wasn't hard to guess that such an unknown space would hold unpredictable threats.
And second—
"You were the one who said you wanted to see the remains of a god here."
"Oh, right."
"That’s half the reason we came here. How can the person who suggested it forget?"
At Turan’s scolding, Solif gave a sheepish laugh and tilted his head. Just then, someone stood by their table and bowed politely.
"Excuse me, noble guests. The master of this island wishes to see you for a moment. Would you be willing to grant him an audience?"
The one who spoke so politely was a middle-aged man who appeared to be the manager of the tavern. At his request, Meisa and Solif looked at Turan.
"The master of the island?"
"Do you know who it is?"
"No."
According to what he’d heard from Pires, the captain of the Blue Marlin, the master of Miguel Island was a reasonably skilled mage. He thought he’d heard the name once, but he couldn't remember it. However, even when he expanded his sense through the Mimic Relic, he couldn't feel the presence of any powerful mage nearby. He only felt a few knights, likely hired as guards for the tavern.
Of course, since the island was several kilometers wide, it was possible the master was simply outside his detection range.
"I’d prefer it if he came to us."
At Turan’s words, the manager’s eyebrows twitched slightly, but he gave a small bow. "I understand."
As soon as he disappeared, Solif immediately threw out a question. "Did something happen when you were here before?"
"Nothing comes to mind. I just sold a pirate ship here, I guess?"
"You sold a pirate ship?"
"Did I not mention that?"
While they were drinking and using the story of how he’d defeated pirates and seized their ship as a side dish, Turan stopped talking as he felt a presence approaching. He immediately stood up.
"Let's go."
The two didn't ask why and stood up immediately. They knew from experience that when Turan acted like this, there was always a reason. They left enough money for the food and drinks on the table and immediately walked out of the tavern toward the outskirts of town.
By the time they reached a deserted alleyway, two people with hoods pulled low blocked their path.
"What's this?" Solif spoke with an incredulous expression. It made sense; it was nearly summer, and wearing hoods like that made them look incredibly suspicious. Most of the sailors were walking around half-naked.
Turan stared at the two of them before pointing at the smaller one. "Is that you, Armani?"
"...How did you recognize me?"
The Merfolk Prince, Armani, threw off his hood with a startled expression. Turan answered simply.
"A feeling."
Of course, the reason he had recognized him immediately was because of the Mimic Relic’s senses. The way the blue light spread through the webbed ears and the gills on the neck was a presence unique to merfolk. He had been surprised to feel a merfolk’s presence in the middle of the island, but since the height and build were very similar to the Armani he’d seen before, he’d guessed correctly.
The only difference was that the flame inside his body—the power similar to mana that they used—had become significantly stronger. It seemed they also grew more powerful as they aged.
"I-it's been a long time, Kind Devil."
"That 'Kind Devil' again... Yeah, good to see you."
But the reason Turan had hurriedly led his companions out was because of the other person standing next to the merfolk boy. To be precise, it was another merfolk.
"So, is that your brother next to you? Or your sister?"
"I take it you are the benefactor of my brother and the one who took the treasure of the devils?"
Answering his question with another question, the person removed her hood to reveal a merfolk woman who looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties. A light far more intense than Armani’s was burning inside her body. Presumably, she was a member of the merfolk royalty, and a very high-ranking one at that.
Turan answered her question with one of his own. "Is removing your hood your way of answering my question?"
"Let's say it is."
"Then my answer was given when I spoke to that kid just now."
It was a sharp conversation for someone dealing with her brother’s benefactor, but this level of distance was appropriate between different races and humans. After all, merfolk were notorious for having snatched and eaten humans along the coast for ages.
Knowing this, the merfolk princess didn't take offense. "I am Rowina."
"Turan. More importantly, the manager mentioned the master of this island earlier. Is the ruler here a minion of the merfolk?"
"Something like that. Do you think a place like this could exist without our permission? It would have become a feeding ground for the lower classes long ago."
The "lower classes" she referred to were clearly the common merfolk who attacked and ate humans. Turan nodded and asked in a low voice.
"Thanks for the information. So, what do you want with us?"
"The item you took."
Unexpectedly, Rowina pointed exactly at the Mimic Relic hanging around Turan’s neck, even though it was hidden by his clothes. "I must retrieve it."
With her words, a cold silence fell over the alley. Naturally, since the Mimic Relic was Turan’s greatest asset, the demand to return it was something he wouldn't even consider—especially when she spoke of "retrieving" it so overbearingly without even mentioning compensation.
Sensing the battle intent in their eyes, Rowina also took a combat stance, but Armani hurriedly spread his arms and stepped between them.
"W-wait! Sister! Don't just state the goal! I will explain it properly!"
"I don't think any more words are necessary."
"Turan is a Kind Devil! That item was the reward for my life! If we're going to take it back, we should explain the reason properly!"
Rowina looked reluctant, but she eventually snorted and nodded. Armani quickly bowed his head toward Turan’s group.
"I'm sorry..."
"It’s not your fault. At least not yet. So, what’s going on?"
The merfolk named Rowina seemed to think she could take it by force, but in terms of actual power, Turan’s group was overwhelmingly superior. The mana he felt from the merfolk woman was, at best, at the level of a high-ranking noble, one step below Turan. In that sense, providing an opportunity for dialogue was actually an act of mercy on Turan’s part.
Unaware of this, Armani looked proud of himself for calming a potential fight and made a shocking statement.
"The thing is, after that item you took disappeared, the Great Sea Serpent came back to life."
"What? You mean that thing that was down there?"
"Yes."
Turan still remembered the presence of that mythically large creature sleeping beneath the sea. A massive serpent that must have been a hundred meters long... If that monster, which had once stood equal to the Frea Divine Clan in ancient times, were to return to life, there would be nothing in the modern era that could oppose it.
Hadn't Ymir said that even the gods existing today would be no match for the ancient gods if they returned in their full glory? When he looked back at Meisa and Solif, they also had horrified expressions, clearly thinking the same thing.
Seeing this, Armani hurriedly added. "No, not completely! It’s like... something that died and came back. In your terms, it’s become something between an undead and a spirit."
"Between an undead and a spirit?"
"Yes."
Armani went on to explain that shortly after Turan took the relic, the corpse of the Great Sea Serpent began to move again. It had become something similar to an undead and rampaged through the ocean. In the process, it merged with a storm spirit and gained the ability to disturb the weather of the North Sea.
"A storm spirit?"
"Yes. In any case, we merfolk have a duty to defeat the thing that is disturbing the sea. My father said that in order to put it back to sleep, we need the item you took."
However, since Armani was the only one who knew what Turan looked like and they didn't know where he had gone, merfolk royalty had been infiltrating various islands in the North Sea for months, waiting for someone matching Turan’s description to arrive. After hearing news of the commotion Turan’s group had caused, they had come immediately.
"So that's how it was."
"Yes! So please, return that item. It is essential for the stability of the sea! I will ask my father to make sure you are compensated with something similar for your loss!"
At Armani’s cry, Turan exchanged glances with his companions for a moment. After gauging their opinions, he made his declaration.
"I'm afraid I can't do that."