Chapter 14

Keorn, the Arabion knight who had given Turan goals to pursue when he had been passing his days tending sheep on a hill, always looked proud whenever he spoke of his house. He called it a proud house whose members, from its nobles down to its knights, all regarded protecting humanity as their calling.

After lengthy deliberation, Turan accepted the offer not simply because he wanted a fine magic tool, but because of the admiration those stories had inspired. Even if this was not House Arabion itself, surely he could get a sense of its spirit from one of its vassal houses.

Of course, bearing the bloodline of Zahar, Arabion's sworn enemy, meant taking some risk... but as long as he did not openly reveal his stealth magic, there should be no great problem. The ability to identify bloodlines, as the librarian had done, was exceedingly rare.

The following morning, the party of two men and one horse first headed for the site of the battle to recover the remains of the Berg retainers killed by the Dark Elves. Since Asiz had been unconscious throughout the previous day's events, Turan served as their guide.

"This way."

"How on earth do you find your way in a place like this? It all looks the same to me..."

"You'll learn quickly enough if you travel alone. Ah, there are the Dark Elves."

Asiz stared at the two headless Dark Elves, biting his lip hard for a moment before abruptly turning away. Turan guessed he had considered venting his lingering anger on their corpses, then thought better of it.

Meanwhile, Turan properly examined the bodies, something he had not managed the day before. The first things that caught his eye were their similarly styled black leather coats. The workmanship suggested they had been made in a proper workshop, and they showed little wear.

Next were their ears. One had had his entire head pulverized, so Turan had to judge from the female Dark Elf, who had lost only the top of her head above the forehead. Both prongs of her split ears were long, suggesting she belonged to a fairly high rank. From this, he could deduce one thing.

"There may be a passage to a Dark Elf city somewhere nearby."

"A Dark Elf city? I've never heard of anything like that around here..."

"They build their cities underground, so it might be unknown. They dig only a few tunnels to the surface, and from time to time wraith sorcerers like these emerge to hunt humans before disappearing underground without a trace. If people have gone missing around here, these creatures were probably responsible for a good many of them."

"Where did you learn all that?"

"I read it in a book."

Turan looked away from the gaze that regarded him as some great sage—a look he had seen several times in Orem City. For now, he thought he ought to inform the lord of a nearby city that a Dark Elf city likely lay not far away.

Afterward, they followed tilly's hoofprints, recovering the servants' remains one by one. Wild animals had ravaged much of the flesh overnight, leaving an unpleasant sight. Asiz's face twisted as it had the day before, and his eyes filled with tears, but he did not cry.

While they gathered keepsakes from the sixteen bodies and buried them, Turan periodically used Search magic to check for approaching Dark Elves. Fortunately, no one came near before they finished the grave.

"I think that's everything. I'd like nothing better than to take them all home, but..."

"I'm afraid that would be difficult."

However enormous the horse might be, carrying sixteen bodies would be difficult—especially with tilly's back already piled high with the luggage the servants had once shared among them.

Finally, Asiz reshaped a large stone into a rectangle, engraved it with the words "My Beloved Family," and planted it before the grave as a headstone. Before long, a soft glow began to rise from what had been an ordinary stone.

'An Enchanter...'

Normally, imbuing something with magical power did not make that power permanent. Even when Turan cast reinforcement and acceleration magic on his sling and stones, the effects faded as the mana he had infused into them gradually dispersed.

Objects with such magic permanently applied to them, however, did exist. These were magic tools, and making them required the ability of the Enchanter bloodline. Once the light faded from the headstone, Asiz spoke, looking somewhat tired.

"There wasn't much time, so I couldn't do anything impressive. I just added a simple concealment spell to keep animals from smelling them. I'd hate to return someday and find the grave dug up..."

Leaving the grave behind, Turan and Asiz headed north in silence. Turan was accustomed to silence, and Asiz was in no mood for conversation either.

They walked for hours without a word. Only around sunset did Asiz finally break the silence.

"Thank you, Turan."

"For what?"

"For not laughing at me."

Asiz gave a self-deprecating smile.

"A noble sobbing over the loss of his servants. An unseemly sight, isn't it?"

"Why should it be?"

"That's what my father taught me. Those who die in a righteous battle will dwell with the gods in the palace in the heavens, so mourning them is weakness. A true noble must know how to move forward over the sacrifices of others... But if grieving for your family is strength, I don't think I could ever be strong."

"That isn't weakness. It's kindness."

Turan remembered his mother's death: that piercing grief, the feeling of being left alone when the only person in the world on his side was gone. He did not want to dismiss it as the product of mere "weakness."

Their conversation lapsed again, but this silence felt much lighter than before. As full darkness fell, Asiz spoke once more.

"Come to think of it, since we'll be traveling together, why don't we dispense with the formalities? We don't seem that far apart in age..."

"What? Oh, well. Certainly."

"Straight to the point! Here's to traveling together, my friend!"

When Turan awkwardly agreed to the utterly unexpected suggestion, Asiz smiled and held out a hand as though they had been friends for ten years. It was a complete reversal from his earlier gloom; he seemed to be trying to lift his spirits, even if he had to force it.

'A friend.'

Come to think of it, this seemed to be the first time anyone had called him a friend. A strange feeling stirred in Turan as he took the offered hand.

* * *

Not long after they began speaking casually, Turan was reminded that this "friend" truly came from another world. The first reminder came at dinner.

"What's this...?"

"A cooling chest. I stocked it with food in the last city."

What Asiz took from the pack on tilly's back was a metal chest large enough to fit a person inside. Apart from its red paint, it looked quite unremarkable, but to Turan's surprise, a cool chill spilled out when the lid opened.

"Is it always cold inside?"

"Exactly! Most food keeps for a week or so without any trouble. If it's gone cold, you just heat it up."

Asiz took out some bread and meat and conjured a flame to warm them, as if demonstrating. He accidentally scorched them a little in the process—apparently the knights usually did this for him—but the food still tasted excellent. It could not match a freshly cooked meal, but comparing it to hardtack baked dry for storage or dried meat would have been an insult. Turan had grown used to sleeping outdoors and eating rough fare, but he, too, preferred good food when it was available.

Nor was that Asiz's only magic tool. He had one that produced water at the press of a button, one that built a small shelter if supplied with wood gathered nearby, and one that sounded an alarm when someone approached... When Turan learned that even Asiz's clothes were magic tools that kept themselves clean, he could not help commenting.

"Those clothes alone would be enough repayment for saving your life."

Magic tools were by no means common. In Orem City, for instance, only the House Head, Rug, owned a few, and even he treated them as heirlooms and rarely brought them out. Yet this young noble was carrying a whole assortment in his horse's packs... Asiz smiled sheepishly at Turan's remark.

"Something like this isn't worth my life. I promise I'll reward you with something far better when we get home. Even if the elders won't allow it, I'll make it myself."

Since he was being offered something better, Turan nodded without comment, though he did not actually expect much. Didn't people's attitudes change once they were no longer in desperate straits?

Even if Asiz tried to fob him off with some cheap magic tool once safely home, Turan would not be disappointed. He would simply toss his first friendship into the rubbish heap and make Asiz pay someday, when he had gained enough power.

About a day and a half later, Turan and Asiz arrived in Maderi, the largest city in the area. At the sight of tilly, who was unmistakably a monster, the police officer guarding the entrance fled in alarm. Before long, a crowd of people who appeared to be knights came rushing out.

"We greet the descendants of the gods!"

Apparently, nobles were called descendants of the gods here. Turan and Asiz were promptly invited to the mansion at the city's center, where they met the local House Head and informed him that a city of man-eating Dark Elves likely existed nearby.

"Dark Elves...? Do those actually exist?"

"Yes. We brought a head just in case. Would you like to see it?"

"No, no, that's quite all right. Seeing that would only spoil my appetite. Well, understood. I suppose I'll send out a patrol or something. More importantly, that monster you brought—would you consider selling it?"

"No, tilly is like family to me..."

Unfortunately, the city's ruler did not seem to take the two nobles' words very seriously. With no particular means of persuading him, they accepted his hospitality for a couple of days, then left the city and headed north again.

On their fifth day traveling north from Maderi, Turan used a lightning spell to scorch an ordinary brown bear that attacked them, taking the opportunity to practice. Asiz spoke in disbelief.

"Turan, just how many spells do you know?"

"Hmm?"

"I've already seen so many different kinds while traveling with you that I can't even remember them all! Animal control, freezing, levitation, liquid control, reinforcement, illumination, binding, instant death, earth alteration, lightning... Have you done nothing but practice magic your entire life? Don't tell me you have some bloodline ability that lets you learn whatever magic you want?"

Turan had taught himself some of the magic Asiz listed, but Keorn had taught him all the rest. To Turan, this reaction was more surprising. Wasn't it normal to be able to activate magic simply by imagining it, provided it was not bloodline magic? Proficiency was another matter, of course. Admittedly, he had fumbled somewhat when Keorn first merely told him such techniques existed. Still, saying he could simply do it would sound far too arrogant, so Turan subtly changed the subject.

"You agreed not to pry into my house."

"No, that was just a joke. There's no way such an absurd bloodline ability exists. More to the point, how old are you, really? You don't even look thirty. Don't tell me you're eighty or so?"

"Hmm?"

"Huh?"

When Turan looked puzzled, Asiz seemed to realize something was wrong and stopped talking.

"How old are you, then?"

"I turned forty-three this year, I think."

"My nineteenth birthday is about a month away..."

Asiz's expression upon learning that his new friend was less than half his age was quite a sight. Turan, too, was stunned to discover that Asiz, who looked only a few years older than him, was about the same age as the deeply wrinkled village notables.

Then again, hadn't Keorn looked to be in his mid-to-late forties despite being over seventy? It was only natural that nobles, who lived several times longer, would not look their actual age. Turan had forgotten that, having had little close contact with nobles.

"Well, a mere twenty-one or twenty-two years doesn't matter to people like us... No, never mind that. Explain that magical skill of yours. How is it possible? Knowing your age only makes it harder to understand! You wouldn't have had enough time even if you'd started practicing in the womb!"

Under the persistent questioning, Turan simply replied that he had practiced magic steadily from childhood and so had achieved this much at a young age. It was not exactly a lie. On Hisaril Hill, he had passed the time playing with magic in all sorts of ways. Hearing this, Asiz kicked a roadside pebble with a deflated expression.

"Honestly, I should have realized when you said you'd finished off two wraith sorcerers with that much mana. Who'd have thought there could be two geniuses like this in the world?"

"Two?"

Asiz nodded at Turan's question.

"Yes, though she's not quite at your level. Or perhaps she is? She does have that bloodline, after all. Anyway, I know another genius about your age. She's my second cousin."

"Could you ask her to make my magic tool?"

Surely something made by a genius Enchanter would be better. At Turan's suggestion, Asiz laughed and shook his head.

"No, she's not from our house. She's from the house we serve."

"The house you serve? You don't mean..."

"That's right. Arabion's princess. Someone who might one day become the head of a great house."