Chapter 133

Ever since he came out into the world, Turan had received numerous marriage proposals.

From the lord of Orem City to Midella, the mother of Ashiz, and even to several influential lords in this Gray Zone.

What had been the reason he declined all such proposals?

It was partly because his natural talents were too precious to be tied to any one family, and more than anything, because marriage was not something to be decided by political calculation.

Marriage was a sacred contract between two people who loved each other.

The belief instilled in him by his mother during childhood remained unchanged, even now, after he had traveled the world and gained much experience.

“If she’s the granddaughter of the head of House Zahar, wouldn’t that make her not so distantly related to me?”

“You two would be sixth cousins. Isn’t that distant enough?”

In fact, in ordinary wizard families, it wasn’t all that uncommon for cousins to marry.

This was because wizards with noble-level magic power were rare, making it difficult for those with strong powers to find suitable partners.

Of course, it was something done out of necessity, and even among wizards, perceptions about consanguineous unions weren’t exactly favorable.

It wasn’t for no reason that Meisa had flared up at Solif’s past remark about Meisa possibly being his relative.

“I appreciate the proposal, but I’ll have to decline.”

"You don't seem particularly appreciative of the proposal."

Even though his proposal had been rejected, Talis showed no sign of displeasure.

He just remained expressionless, with only his eyes shifting as if to assess the other.

“You seemed a bit angry when you heard my proposal just now. Why is that? Was it because I suggested someone who’s a little too close of a relative? No, maybe… do you perhaps assign some great significance to taking a wife? Oh ho, so that’s how it is.”

He asked the question but didn’t wait for an answer, deriving one on his own, a behavior that felt downright bizarre.

Turan frowned, realizing that the other had sensed his emotions through his scent.

Though it was something he himself often did, being on the receiving end made him uncomfortable, as if his inner self was being exposed.

“I thought you were of the same kind as me. The Zahar of Enril. The most brutal, cunning, and merciless family in the world.”

“Do you believe that bloodline determines one’s personality?”

“At least among nobles, there seems to be some truth to it. Don’t you roughly know it yourself? That the bloodline one is born with… influences even the essence of our soul.”

Though he found Talis’s words distasteful, Turan couldn’t help but partially agree.

Indeed, his inborn tendency to kill or torture enemies without a shred of guilt was a classic trait of House Zahar’s nobility.

The fact that symbols of one’s bloodline appeared in their spiritual body was, in some sense, proof that bloodline could influence the soul, the essence of a person.

"Well, it's quite interesting that there are differences. After all, between a grandfather and grandson, only a quarter of the blood is shared. Still, despite that, we look ridiculously alike.”

Talis now wore a beaming smile, clearly pleased to have found a crack in Turan’s facade, in contrast to moments earlier.

Yet from him, there wasn’t even a trace of the scent that typically accompanied happiness.

That too meant he was wearing a mask.

‘How unpleasant.’

Only then did Turan realize the nature of the discomfort he had felt while conversing with Talis, as well as during their previous encounter when he had been disguised.

It was the instinctive aversion that surfaced when two snake-like beings, those who needed to stay in a position of informational superiority over others to feel secure, came face to face.

After sorting his thoughts in a very short span of time, Turan responded with a faint smile, just like Talis.

“You’re exactly right. That’s right. I wish to have only one true partner, and I want that person to be someone with whom I can truly share love.”

“I think Karim said something similar once. Could it be you take after him?”

At the sudden mention of his father’s name, Turan quickly attempted to meditate to calm his emotions.

Because through the past encounter in Carmine, he had come to know that the man before him had killed his father.

To avoid revealing that he knew the truth, Turan had to somehow disperse the sudden surge of hostility.

Fortunately, perhaps due to the mental training he had undergone thus far not being in vain, Turan was able to fall into a perfect meditative state before his hostility could manifest.

Swiftly emptying his emotions, he masked himself with an intentional calm and asked with only a faint trace of curiosity on his face.

“I’ve actually been meaning to ask about my father for some time. What kind of person was he?”

“Embarrassing as it is, I can’t tell you much in detail. He was just one of my many children. Still, I remember he had a sentimental personality that didn’t match his usually sullen face. Thinking back, he really wasn’t very much like a Zahar. If only he hadn’t lost his life during the war with Aravion.”

Even though he was speaking about the son he had killed, Talis wore an affectionate expression, as if he were missing someone who had passed.

Turan figured there was no need to wonder where his own acting skills had come from.

After a brief exchange to shift the mood, Turan brought out the thoughts he had organized in his mind.

"To return to the matter at hand, let's start by having me meet the young lady first."

"Meet her?"

“If you send the young lady you mentioned earlier to our side, I’ll try seriously dating her. If we come to care for each other in time, then as you said earlier, we may become family by blood.”

“You sound like someone who plans to escape the situation now and change his mind later.”

Talis struck sharply at the heart of the matter, but Turan replied without so much as a twitch of his expression.

"Even if we were joined in a loveless marriage, it would be difficult to expect much constraint, wouldn't it? Since I won't be living in the Enril Desert, I could simply discard my wife or children if necessary."

“Hmm.”

“But as I said a moment ago, I take marriage, having a partner, seriously. Since I won’t decide recklessly, when the bond is formed after proper interaction, you can expect it to have stronger binding power. As a bonus, House Zahar would be planting someone to act as eyes and ears inside a threatening power.”

Just as Turan said, his proposal involved Kalamaf accepting a certain amount of risk.

Having a Zahar lady as an outsider meant that she could see all kinds of secrets and it would be difficult to prevent her from leaving afterward.

“Then what about that young lady?”

“Whom do you mean?”

“Don’t pretend not to know. The Aravion girl. It doesn’t seem like you have a typical relationship. And it doesn’t seem one-sided either.”

He knew and still made the marriage proposal?

Turan found it somewhat absurd and clicked his tongue inwardly but gave the answer he had prepared in advance.

“As you said, Grandfather, I am a cunning and merciless Zahar. I know what must be prioritized and what must be cut off when necessary.”

With that, the office fell into silence for a moment.

Only a silent battle took place between Talis, trying to analyze the other’s intentions with all his senses, and Turan, who remained unmoved like a statue.

After a while, Talis tapped the desk lightly with his fingernail and spoke.

“How many escorts may she bring?”

*

Several dozen minutes later, the two of them came down to the conference room and informed the waiting nobles of Zahar and Kalamaf about the results of the meeting.

They announced that, under the condition that the granddaughter of the head of House Zahar personally cross over to Kalamaf and begin dating Turan, a non-aggression pact would be established.

Upon hearing this, the two factions fell into confusion, each for different reasons.

Some of the Zahar nobles showed discomfort at the idea of forming a non-aggression pact with something as ambiguous and weakly binding as “dating”, not even marriage.

Moreover, hadn't Turan even admitted to killing Alma, one of Zahar's heirs?

Not only were they unable to issue an execution order against the person who killed their heir, but they were sending the Family Head's granddaughter almost like offering tribute.

However, unexpectedly, more people agreed to the loosely constructed condition than opposed it.

“I support this.”

“Nouvelle, you... is it because you think this isn’t your business?”

“I don’t know what you mean. You’re the one who should think of the family’s interest instead of letting your personal feelings get in the way.”

A supporter of Rahman, the only remaining Zahar heir, spoke up shamelessly, raising his head.

For them, a non-aggression pact between Turan and House Zahar was a task that had to be accomplished at all costs.

‘If they end up in conflict and that man surrenders and joins the family... then Lord Rahman stands no chance. We must keep him drifting outside the family for now.’

In fact, even the massacre of Alma and her faction had, when viewed closely, been a benefit to Rahman, if anything, it was reason to feel gratitude, not hostility.

As long as Turan remained an independent force until Rahman became the family head, that would be enough.

Moreover, there was no need to worry about the risk that Turan might marry the family head’s granddaughter and establish a power base within the family.

Not when considering the background of the one Turan was supposed to marry.

While the Zahar side was running calculations in their heads, the nobles of Kalamaf, without exception, were cautiously observing one woman.

“Hmm.”

“Uh, this is...”

In truth, the conditions Turan had brought were generous, so generous that they were practically a free gift from the standpoint of Kalamaf's interests.

It wasn’t a binding marriage right away; it was merely a courtship, so he could cast her aside at an appropriate time. And as long as the granddaughter of the head of House Zahar stayed in Kalamaf, she would be practically a hostage.

The only issue was that everyone knew Turan already had someone who was, for all intents and purposes, like a partner.

All eyes turned toward the woman with auburn hair who stood out among them, Meisa Aravion. Her face bore no expression.

It wasn’t an expression that showed she wasn’t thinking anything. It was more like her emotions had been erased, like a doll’s.

After some groans and murmured voices filled the silence, she finally opened her mouth.

“It’s a good offer, isn’t it?”

Naturally, no one responded with agreement.

Turan and Meisa never met each other’s gaze.

After everyone exchanged their respective thoughts, the formal drafting of the non-aggression pact began.

There were no complicated trap clauses like those in commoner treaties.

After all, contracts between nobles depended on the honor and dignity they had built up, there was no real authority that could judge them even if they broke the pact by force.

Once the document was prepared, Talis grasped Turan’s hand and said in a low voice.

“I’m glad we were able to have such a good conversation. I don’t think I’ll be able to come in person next time, but I hope you’ll get along with the one who will come in my stead. I think of her like a daughter, personally.”

Does “like a daughter” mean he could kill her without hesitation if things went wrong?

Turan thought that to himself as he shook Talis’s hand.

*

After completing the peace agreement, Talis immediately left Kalamaf with the nobles who had accompanied him.

It was a breach of general etiquette, but since Turan wasn’t one to concern himself much with such things, he actually welcomed it.

More than anything, he didn’t want them to know that his physical condition wasn’t in the best shape at the moment.

"Kugh."

Cough. With a spurt of blood, Turan quickly used fluid manipulation magic to manipulate the bloody spit and hurl it out the corridor window.

If a Zahar noble had been standing beside him, they would have immediately noticed from the scent of blood that something was wrong with his health.

Thankfully, he had managed to restrain himself during the meeting, preventing any coughing fits.

Normally, when he coughed up blood like this, Meisa would be by his side to wipe it away.

But after the peace agreement, she had claimed to be tired and gone into her room, not emerging all day.

“Ah, Lord Turan...”

A female knight standing guard in the corridor looked startled upon seeing Turan and placed a hand on her chest in salute.

Turan could sense a faint anger from her.

Since the knights of House Berk shared blood ties with Meisa, they felt a bond with her, and thus they were angry at Turan’s decision.

“I came to see Meisa. Is she inside?”

Of course, it was a question asked only out of courtesy.

After all, he possessed multiple abilities, like the Mimic Relic, that allowed him to detect humans in the vicinity.

Turan could already tell that Meisa had sensed his presence.

“The young lady is...”

Just as the female knight was about to lie and say that Meisa was out, the door behind her swung open with a bang.

With a shadowed face, Meisa spoke toward Turan.

“Let’s talk outside.”

“Alright.”

It wasn’t just a matter of talking in the garden, as soon as she stepped out of the mansion, Meisa immediately activated flight magic and soared into the sky at full power.

Since Turan’s magic power was weaker than hers, he had to push himself with all his strength just to keep up.

After about ten minutes, the two landed on a rocky mountain several dozen kilometers away from Kalamaf.

There was no trace of human presence in the surroundings.

“Meisa, I...”

The moment Turan opened his mouth, lightning burst from Meisa’s hand.

The lightning spell was so expertly cast that there wasn’t even a static charge or any sign beforehand.

As a result, Turan, without even putting up any defensive posture, took the magic directly.

The intense shock surged through his chest and spread throughout his body, causing his muscles to stiffen.

“Ugh...”

Perhaps not expecting him to take the hit head-on, a flicker of worry and concern appeared on Meisa’s face for a moment.

But it was brief, her expression twisted again as she looked down at the collapsed Turan.

As the tingling pain flowed through his entire body, Turan lay on the ground, locking eyes with Meisa, who stood over him.

‘Looks like she cried a lot.’

He had seen her earlier trying to cool her eyes with something like ice in a hurry, but unfortunately, for nobles like her with powerful magic, even that wasn’t very effective.

A faint chill didn’t do much to affect their bodies.

With her eyes still swollen red, Meisa looked down at Turan and climbed onto his stomach.

It was a high-level pinning stance they had learned during past combat training.

In reality, it was a technique of little use against nobles due to the wizards' power compared to their relatively light weight.

“You bastard.”

A curse spilled from Meisa’s lips, spoken as if she were spitting it out.

Turan had the brief thought that this was the first time she had ever cursed at him, but it was cut off by a tearing sound and a sharp pain exploding across his face.

“Kh!”

Meisa’s fist struck his cheekbone far harder than he had expected.

At the colosseum, Turan would usually activate his Berserker Bloodline and beat her into the ground for fun, but without the help of the Mimic Relic, in terms of pure physical ability, Meisa, who possessed stronger magic power, had the upper hand.

Thus, she beat the collapsed Turan repeatedly without resistance.

When his once-handsome face was completely bloodied, Meisa finally stopped and panted heavily, then covered her face with both hands.

With a broken nose, Turan spoke in a nasally voice.

“Are you crying?”

“That’s right, you bastard...”

Maybe it was due to the way she grew up, but Meisa didn’t know many curse words.

The profanity coming out of her mouth was pathetically simple.

She wiped away the flowing tears with her hands and looked at the collapsed Turan.

Her mind knew it was a decision made for the peace of all, but the feeling of betrayal was hard to endure.

Memories of relying on him as a savior, of spending time together like a married couple, flooded back vividly.

If he had at least respected her, couldn’t he have told her beforehand, before making such a decision?

And yet, even while feeling betrayed, seeing him hurt because of her only made her heart ache more.

Especially when she saw him coughing and turning his head to spit up blood.

At that moment, Turan, having spit up a mouthful of blood, gestured toward Meisa, who was still sitting on top of him, and said:

“Lower your head for a moment...”

Hearing this, Meisa instinctively bent her upper body toward him like a well-trained animal.

It wasn’t out of guilt for hitting him earlier rather, it was just habit. Whenever Turan said something, she followed. It had become second nature.

In battle and other extreme situations, giving orders had always been Turan’s role, and his commands were almost never wrong.

Turan placed one hand on the back of her bowed head and pulled her toward him.

A moment later, the taste of thick blood flowed into her mouth.