Chapter 118

What is magic?

From the capitals of great noble houses to the most remote regions, such as Hisaril Hill, where Turan lived.

No matter where in the world one asked, the answer would likely be the same.

Magic is a power derived from the bloodline of the great Preah God Tribe.

However, the book Turan was reading outright denied this notion.

It claimed that what was passed down through the blood of the gods was nothing more than fake magic, and that true magic originally existed separately for humans.

Moreover, the phrase "those so-called gods" was so blasphemous that it was shocking to see it written by someone from a land that worshiped the Preah God Tribe.

Turan was so stunned by what he read that he momentarily forgot to breathe, his gaze fixed on the book.

Solif, who had been resting beside him, asked curiously,

"What's wrong? Did you find something?"

"Hold on a moment."

He took a deep breath to make up for his lack of air, then lowered his gaze to continue reading.

[Originally, magic power was a force possessed by strange beings, and humans were never meant to wield that power.

The true magic that humans once wielded stemmed from their ability to manipulate souls.]

'......Souls?'

Surely, soul-related arts were a specialty of the elves.

Was the author of this book referring to elves as humans?

Turan steadied his shaken mind and turned another page.

[To explain for those who have yet to realize, the magic of manipulating souls is entirely different from the soulcraft of white elves.

Soulcraft is a technique in which dark elves extract living souls and manipulate them at will, much like they control undead spirits. However, soul magic is the art of awakening one's true self, attaining spiritual perception, and exerting influence upon the spiritual world.]

Fortunately, the "humans" that the book's author referred to were indeed the same as what Turan understood as humans.

Realizing this, his heart pounded with excitement.

A technique for manipulating souls, an area that was nearly an unknown frontier for humans!

Just imagining the possibilities was overwhelming.

Notably, capturing a god's soul when its possession vessel has died, or perhaps discovering the secret of immortality when used with House Lavitas' sacred relic...

‘No, that can’t be it.’

This book was not some obscure text hidden in a remote place, it had been sitting in the study of the House Varaha Family Head.

If it contained secrets of immortality, they would have long since put it to use.

They certainly had more than enough time to practice such techniques.

[True magic holds limitless possibilities, yet, unfortunately, the gap between the spiritual world and reality is vast, making it difficult to manifest significant changes in the real world.

What use is conversing with the dead or glimpsing the future when facing powerful magical beasts or other races?

The only somewhat practical application was the ability to fight while possessing the body of an animal.

Thus, it was only natural that humans, who had already become slaves before the emergence of the Preah God Tribe, gradually lost their true magic…]

The ability to fight while possessing the body of an animal.

The moment he read this, Turan felt as if he had been struck by lightning.

‘No way.’

Until now, Turan and his comrades had assumed that the Preah God Tribe was capturing white elves and using soulcraft to transfer their consciousness into new bodies.

Everything they had learned, from common knowledge to information obtained through Rida, suggested that only the white elves' soulcraft could interfere with souls in such a manner.

But what if that was wrong?

What if, instead of soulcraft, they were using this true magic to enter human bodies just as one might enter an animal’s body?

By deeply mastering this, he might take one step, no, dozens of steps closer to the gods' secrets.

As he continued reading, Turan abruptly cleared his throat and called out to the librarian, who had been idly occupied.

"Elder."

"What is it?"

"Could you help me interpret this?"

The introductory part of the book, which explained its background, was somewhat understandable. However, after that, a series of terms like "true self" and "spiritual perception" appeared one after another.

Naturally, he could read the words with his eyes, but the content itself barely registered in his mind.

Turan’s reading volume was among the highest for someone his age, but compared to actual scholars, it was lacking.

“That’s why you should’ve studied more.”

The librarian grumbled as he read the book, while Solif, curious about what was happening, moved closer.

“What is it? What’s going on?”

"It talks about true magic. Have you heard anything about it in your family?"

“True magic? Not at all.”

“Then let’s read it together first. We might figure something out.”

Since the book was in Varaha’s possession, Turan had wondered if this knowledge was widely spread among them. But since Solif had no clue, that clearly wasn’t the case.

Despite his somewhat limited scope, Solif wasn’t someone with a small reading habit either.

At that moment, the librarian gestured for Turan’s attention.

“Come here. I’ll explain from the beginning.”

“I’ll listen carefully.”

“The concept of ‘true self’ was first introduced about 1,900 years ago by Esol, a scholar from House Garba. It originated from the question of whether one's identity is defined by their physical body or by the memories they have lived through...”

What followed was essentially a philosophy lecture.

Metaphysical topics concerning selfhood and personality, subjects Turan never particularly enjoyed reading about.

However, at this moment, even those discussions had to be absorbed with full attention.

Solif, who had been quietly listening beside him, furrowed his brows and shook his head, as if he were getting a headache.

For several dozen minutes, the two of them continued poring over the librarian's interpretation of the true magic.

After finishing the final chapter, Solif let out a quiet sigh.

“We’ve really stumbled upon something unbelievable...”

As the author had previously described, this "soul magic" had little practical effect on the physical world.

The spiritual world, where souls mainly operated, and the physical world were strictly separate, connected only through the medium of a physical body.

However, conversely, as long as it did not affect reality, an incredible number of things were possible.

Not only the ability to converse with the dead or foresee the future, which had been briefly mentioned before, but even a technique for reincarnation while maintaining one's memories.

Thanks to this, they could now roughly grasp how the fallen gods preserved and transferred their souls.

Rather than simply possessing the body of an animal, a more advanced technique was described, one where a person devoured another’s spiritual body and possessed them.

There was even a detailed explanation stating that the greater the similarity between the possessed body’s background, personality, and mental condition to the possessor’s, the easier it was to synchronize and control.

Additionally, secrets about the lifespan of souls were included, which made it clear that, though incomplete, House Lavitas had indeed obtained knowledge close to the truth.

Had they perhaps acquired fragments of a soul magic legacy that had been severed somewhere?

The gods had undoubtedly used this magic to sustain their immortality while exterminating any inheritors of the legacy among ordinary humans and erasing all records of it.

If they hadn’t been so thorough in their eradication, then at the very least, the librarian should have known something about it.

“But most importantly, there’s this.”

“Soul Imprint?”

“That’s right.”

Soul Imprint.

It was a technique where one transformed themselves into a spiritual entity, akin to a half-spirit, and then bound themselves to a specific location.

In other words, just as the librarian had once been bound to the library and was now bound to the jewel box.

Even in that state, one could possess another’s body and move freely, but if they were to die or be expelled from the body, they would immediately return to the place where they were imprinted.

For the nobles of House Varaha, their imprint location was likely beneath the Temple of the Sun.

By destroying the medium there and then killing the possessed vessel before capturing and erasing the soul, they could deliver a perfect death.

“If we just learn this, we can take them down one by one…!”

“Yeah, but the problem is how we’re supposed to learn it.”

“Ah.”

Solif, who had been completely fired up by Turan’s words, suddenly froze.

As expected, the initiation into soul magic required incredibly intricate rituals.

One had to ingest specially prepared potions to induce hallucinations, undergo near-death experiences through meditation, and more.

Not only was natural talent crucial in this process, but there was also a chilling warning that without a guide who had already mastered it, the practitioner’s soul could be irreparably damaged.

By the time they had discussed this much, Turan closed the book, put it into his bag, and stood up.

“That’s enough talk for now. We’ve replenished our magic power, so let’s move. This isn’t a problem we can solve just by thinking about it here.”

“Alright, let’s regroup.”

*

“They’re conducting inspections here too.”

"It's intense."

The Land of Five Lakes had a fairly high population density compared to other great noble houses' territories.

Perhaps the only comparable place was the Takein Plains of Aravion.

That meant that no matter how much effort they put into it, they couldn’t avoid being seen altogether.

Blending into the crowd, Turan and Solif moved along the main road, spotting knights and nobles who were rarely seen under normal circumstances.

Since Solif had already had the mask, Turan couldn’t see his original face, but the people in question were likely from vassal houses rather than the main family of House Varaha.

More than a hundred police officers were stationed under their command, blocking roads and controlling the people.

“They must have used light signals, right?”

“Of course. How else would they have spread the news this far in just a few hours?”

House Varaha had established a signaling system within their territory known as the Tower of Light.

It involved stationing wizards at regular intervals to transmit signals through the flickering and color of light.

The key to this technology was the presence of Varaha nobles stationed at fixed intervals.

Since they possessed the Illusionist Bloodline’s ability to manipulate light, they could project and perceive light signals at a far greater distance than ordinary people.

Naturally, no matter how fast Turan and Solif fled, they couldn’t outrun light.

“A group containing a young man with short silver hair and another with brown hair, estimated to be between twenty and thirty years old, capture them all! Any lone man passing through, regardless of appearance, must also be detained!”

The noble shouting the order was undoubtedly referring to Solif and Turan.

The directive to detain any lone man regardless of appearance was clearly meant to counteract their use of transformation masks.

Since they weren’t searching for gray hair, it seemed Turan’s identity had either not been exposed or those who had figured it out had chosen not to reveal it publicly.

“W-what is the meaning of this? I haven’t done anything wrong…”

“Please, let me go! If I don’t deliver this cargo to Seto by today, I’ll go bankrupt!”

Brown hair was a common color in any region, and silver hair was relatively prevalent in Varaha territory, so a considerable number of people were being detained along the main road.

The young men, all looking terrified, trembled as a noble frowned and gave an order.

“Inspect them.”

“Yes, sir!”

Summoned gaurds drew short swords and began slashing at the detainees' bodies.

The young men screamed as if they were about to die, but none dared to resist.

With knights and nobles standing right in front of them, their cold gazes sharp as blades, how could they even consider it?

Fortunately, those who were cut and bled were cleared to pass.

The ones who had been detained hurriedly wrapped clean cloth around their bleeding wounds to stop the bleeding and quickly fled.

‘So that’s how they’re identifying people… Clever.’

It was common knowledge that even lower-ranking nobles could not be wounded by an ordinary sword unless it was a magic artifact.

Unless one forcibly depleted their magic power, passing this inspection unscathed would be nearly impossible.

And if someone attempted that, they would look unmistakably exhausted.

Since they lacked the ability to perceive magic power like Turan, this was the most reliable method of identification for them.

Of course, if they actually found the real targets, everyone present would be as good as dead.

Admiring their approach internally, Turan stepped forward in line, bowed his head, and greeted the officer conducting the inspection.

“You must be working hard, sir.”

“What’s your name, old man?”

“This lowly one is Labus. And this here is my grandson, Rob.”

“Ah, h-hello.”

The officer glanced at Turan and then at Solif, who was stammering behind him, before clicking his tongue.

An old man with a shabby appearance and a boy who looked to be in his mid-to-late teens.

Neither of them matched the description of the wanted men.

“What business do you have here?”

“I run a small street stall up in Senzra City to the north. I was just returning from a pilgrimage to the Temple of the Sun. It was this old man’s lifelong wish, you see.”

For followers of the Silver Sun, the Temple of the Sun was a highly significant site.

It wasn’t unusual for even poor commoners to visit at least once for a pilgrimage.

Turan had often used similar excuses when traveling in Helio City.

As expected, the officer tilted his head in mild suspicion before suddenly kicking Turan in the shin.

“Ugh!”

“Grandfather!”

“Move along. People are waiting!”

“Thank you, sir.”

Feigning the role of a feeble old man wincing from the pain and a worried grandson, Turan and Solif successfully deceived the officers and slipped through the blockade.

As they continued northward, they encountered several more inspections, but none of the officials managed to see through their disguises.

The closest call was during a baggage inspection.

Since nobles like the officers rarely carried basic travel necessities such as flint or blankets, their absence raised some suspicion.

Fortunately, Solif managed to cover for them by claiming he had lost some of their belongings, allowing them to pass without further issue.

After three days of traveling north, Turan and Solif finally reached a mountain cave where Meisa’s group had been hiding.

“Turan!”

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Of course not… What about you?”

“I’m fine, obviously.”

After exchanging a light hug with Meisa to confirm their safety, Turan picked up Bije, who was hopping anxiously at her feet, and ruffled her feathers.

“Have you been well?”

[I was scared! But I waited patiently!]

“Good girl. Thank you for bringing everyone here safely.”

At Turan’s gratitude, Bije let out a small huff, then turned her beak toward Solif, who had already gone inside.

He was embracing his parents, who had been resting deeper in the cave, sharing words and emotions that had accumulated over time.

[His dad and mom were really worried too! Just like me!]

"I'm sure they were, he's their son."

If Turan’s mother had been alive, she would have worried just as much about him.

At that moment, Bije tapped Turan’s head lightly with her beak.

[I am Turan’s mom! So I worry about my son!]

"I'm your son?"

[Turan’s mom is Bije, and I am Bije!]

For a moment, he was speechless by her transcendental logic that she was Turan's mother because they shared the same name, but then, feeling a strange sense of relief, he let out a chuckle and sat down in a corner of the cave.

A few dozen minutes later, Solif returned after pouring out his emotions and catching up with his parents.

His parents followed him to where Turan sat, and without hesitation, they both bowed deeply.

“We sincerely thank you, Turan.”

“If it weren’t for you, we would have lost our son without even understanding why. Truly… I don’t even know how to express this gratitude.”

Overcome with emotion, Solif’s mother, Romi, had tears welling up in her eyes.

It was understandable. Learning that her son had nearly been replaced by the Family Head’s consciousness without anyone noticing was horrifying.

Until now, there had likely been at least some resentment toward him for suddenly abandoning the family.

Revealing the full details was necessary, if only to dispel the lingering emotions.

“I appreciate your gratitude. But… I believe we need to discuss something even more important now.”

“Something important?”

“I apologize for saying this, but it will be difficult for you two to continue traveling with us.”

At Turan’s words, the middle-aged couple nodded calmly.

Godis and Romi were skilled enough that they could have risen to the position of Family Head in an ordinary noble house, but in their current situation, they were nothing more than a burden.

If one of the upper-rank nobles that Turan and Solif had faced with a dozen or so followers stepped up, they could easily kill those two.

Yet, they also could not be treated as ordinary combatants. If either of them were captured or killed, it would deal severe psychological damage to Solif.

Moreover, rather than pursuing the three of them, who were difficult to capture, Varaha would likely focus their efforts on the relatively easier targets, Solif’s parents.

What the couple needed now was a refuge, a place completely free from outside interference.

Preferably far from Varaha, not within any great noble house's territory, and difficult to discover even if the head of House Zahar tracked them with a medium.

Everyone shared the same thought after hearing Turan’s words.

“Does such a place… even exist?”

“It seems impossible by normal means.”

Even someone like Turan, who was several levels weaker than the Family Head of House Zahar, could still detect Godis all the way from the Lavitas lands in the southwest to the eastern regions.

Given that, how could they find a place that would allow them to escape the pursuit of House Zahar, which was based in the very heart of the world, the Enril Desert?

Without delving deep underground or soaring high into the sky, it was physically impossible.

“There’s only one place. Just a little farther west from my homeland.”

“…You don’t mean....?”

Turan’s homeland was Hisaril Hill, located at the westernmost edge of the world.

Beyond that, at the very boundary of the known world, stood the towering Sky Mountain Range, so high that no one had ever crossed it.

The uncharted land beyond those mountains was the refuge Turan had in mind.

***