Chapter 146

It goes without saying, but Armania's existence had to be kept absolutely secret even within House Parsha.

After all, weren't wizards meant to protect humanity from magical beasts and other races?

Recalling how disturbed everyone was when Turan recently accused the upper ranks of Aravion of being White Elves, it wasn’t hard to imagine the scale of the impact if word got out that they were protecting a mermaid.

And of course, the added problem of Armania's relatives showing up after hearing the rumors.

Because of this, in order to maintain complete secrecy, Turan hid Armania in the innermost part of the Parsha mansion, inside his own quarters, for several days, forbidding him from showing his face except in front of a few trusted individuals.

"But didn’t the wizards from Ophen already see him? You know, when we were traveling with him around and all."

"I’ve already made sure they’ll keep their mouths shut. If word gets out… things will get uncomfortable, to say the least."

Turan answered Solif's question with a somewhat grim expression.

Though he was the head of the great noble House Parsha and the liege of the lord of Ophen, the relationship of lord and vassal between them was still paper-thin.

So, Turan paid a significant price to seal the lips of Ophen's lord and his men.

Not only a large portion of his wealth, but even a useful magic artifact.

Despite offering such a reward, so extravagant it was almost excessive for a mere wizard family, if rumors still managed to leak?

Well, then the stick must follow the carrot.

He could only hope it wouldn't come to that.

About a week passed in that state before Ashiz finally returned, looking somewhat worn, carrying the newly made magic artifact.

"This is it?"

"Yeah. It doesn’t have any particularly special features, so it didn’t take long to make."

It was a mask that covered not only the face but the entire head.

The front was a plain silver surface without any patterns, and the sides were adorned with decorations reminiscent of a lion’s mane, concealing the fin-like ears distinctive to mermaids.

Turan took the mask and turned it this way and that before handing it to Armania, who stood beside him.

"Want to try it on?"

"Let’s see… Oh! I can see everything clearly even with it on!"

"That's one of its functions."

The mask Armania wore had two main functions.

First, as just demonstrated, it did not obstruct the wearer’s field of vision or awareness.

Wearing a mask without that kind of function all day would drive anyone mad with frustration.

And the second was.

"Let’s see."

"Ugh- that hurts!"

"Good. It doesn’t come off."

Turan nodded as he tried to pull the mask off Armania.

The feature that prevented removal by anyone other than the wearer worked even better than expected.

Of course, it could be forcibly broken with enough strength, but at least a passerby wouldn’t be able to knock it off with a bump.

"From now on, wear that when you go out."

"Does that mean I can go outside now!?"

"Yes. But never take it off in front of others."

"Of course!"

Perhaps because he had been feeling stifled cooped up in Turan’s quarters, Armania let out a cheer and dashed out, mask still on.

The members of House Parsha were bewildered by the sudden appearance of this unidentified masked boy.

Who could he be, that he hid his face and the family head was so concerned about him?

Normally, one might assume he was a son, but Turan of Kalamaf was only twenty-four years old, hardly old enough to be the father of a boy who looked to be in his mid-teens, even with the mask on.

And of course, when someone this suspicious shows up, attempts to gather information are bound to follow.

The most renowned spy of House Parsha moved immediately.

"You’re called Arn, right?"

"That's right!"

Arn.

That was Armania’s new name.

Turan, having gone through a few disguises himself, knew from experience that an alias needed to sound similar to the real name to stick easily in people’s minds.

In truth, considering that the intelligence-gathering abilities of mermaids were mostly limited to the island regions of the North Sea, there was hardly any need to use an alias. But still, better safe than sorry.

As Armania answered innocently, Berit’s eyes gleamed with a wicked glint as she asked,

"I'm Berit. Sixth cousin of the family head. May I ask what your relationship is with the family head?"

“We’re friends!”

Berit, subtly omitting the surname ‘Zahar’ to lower his guard, frowned at the bland response.

Friends, huh.

She immediately recalled the people whom Turan had referred to as friends, Meisa Aravion, Solif Varaha...

One could easily guess that Turan considered someone a friend only if they were heirs of great noble houses with comparable standing to his own.

Ashiz was perhaps the only exception, but even he, strictly speaking, was a prized talent of the Enchanter Bloodline sought by many great noble houses.

‘Is he the heir to Lavitas? His build is far too different from what I heard of the heir to Ruvan.’

In reality, Lavitas didn’t yet have an heir, as Family Head Osel was still quite young, but Berit didn’t know that.

The Lavitas domain was so closed off that intelligence gathering there was poor.

After chatting for a little while longer, she wrote a letter to the Zahar main house and made a rough guess about Arn’s identity in it.

He must be an heir to some great noble house, or at the very least a noble of valuable bloodline who would be useful if brought in as a vassal.

While this bumbling spy was unintentionally spreading false information, Turan had already sent off a letter to the far south.

To the Lavitas fleet that was likely crossing the South Sea at that very moment, heading toward Varaha territory.

“I really hope nothing goes wrong.”

“No way. They'd have to be ridiculously unlucky to run into them.”

As Turan sighed in the lounge, Meisa, resting her head on his lap, closed her eyes gently and replied.

Just yesterday, she had finished creating a new magic artifact for Solif, and she was now in a terribly weakened state.

To the point that even a mid-tier noble would be difficult for her to defeat.

Because of that, Turan stayed close to her at all times after she emerged from the workshop, never letting her out of his protection.

Sometimes Berit, seeing this, burned with jealousy, but the excuse was far too solid to complain about.

What could she say when the greatest force within was unwell and required close personal protection?

“Here, ah-”

“I’ve got hands too, you know.”

Mealtime.

Meisa grumbled but still opened her mouth to take the spoonful of soup Turan offered her.

As she calmly chewed, memories of their time at the bakery suddenly resurfaced.

Back then, just imagining being fed food like this had seemed lewd and shameless beyond belief.

How in the world had such intimate gestures become a part of daily life in just a few years?

Then again, in terms of shamelessness, nothing topped the time he knocked her unconscious and shoved a tube down her throat to force-feed her.

At the time, her health had been in dire condition and the situation desperate, so she accepted it, but thinking back now, it was horrifying.

As these thoughts crossed her mind, she looked at Turan, who tilted his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just thinking.”

Of course, that didn’t mean she disliked the current situation.

She wondered if this was how a baby bird felt under the protection of its mother bird.

Unlike standing shoulder to shoulder as equals in battle, there was a comfort in being helpless and protected.

After losing her mother, she had spent years unable to trust anyone as a guardian.

To Meisa, this situation stirred a nostalgia like returning to her childhood.

***

While the two lovers freely showered affection on each other without concern for onlookers, Bije returned from the South Sea carrying a reply.

Having previously asked for Rida’s permission to collect strands of her hair and passed them on to Bije, who had used Tracking Magic to pinpoint the warship’s exact location in the middle of the sea and deliver the letter.

The golden eagle, whose feathers still carried the scent of the sea, looked proudly at Turan and demanded a reward.

-I worked hard, so give me something tasty!

“Of course I have it ready, my lady.”

Though Bije occasionally followed Rida’s advice to read history books and enjoyed such intellectual activities, her most primal joy was, without a doubt, gourmet food.

As she delighted in devouring a honey-glazed whole roasted pig, Turan opened the reply written by Rida.

[I received your letter well. Fortunately, we haven’t run into the Great Sea Serpent you talked about, but the mermaids definitely appear more frequently now. We’re currently passing through the southern Enril Desert, and there are even rumors that some of the mermaids have not just attacked the coast but have moved inland. Be careful, some might be heading for Kalamaf.]

The rest of the letter included minor incidents involving Osel during the voyage and the expected landing date.

It was likely written in the hope that Turan would send Solif at that time, just as they had agreed.

As he folded the letter after reading, Turan let out a sigh of relief, realizing that the worst-case scenario he had imagined had been avoided.

That mermaids had suddenly appeared was only natural, after all, those who had been hiding in the South Sea likely panicked at the emergence of the Great Sea Serpent clan and started to rampage.

And based on the postscript, Turan could infer the following:

“That’s a relief. Looks like the Great Sea Serpent clan has already gone up toward the North Sea. It would’ve been a disaster if they had clashed with Lavitas.”

“You think the group that went inland is them?”

“If not, there’s no real reason for mermaids to go into a desert. Normal mermaids, even with an oasis, would dry up like salted fish.”

As could be seen from how Armania had survived several months trapped in the hold of a pirate ship, mermaids didn’t suffer any fatal disadvantages from not living in water.

However, since their skin was protected by a somewhat slimy, mucus-like layer unlike humans, they did need periodic hydration.

That was why Armania’s quarters always had a bathtub filled with cool water.

“Arn, if your kin were to fight on land, how well could they fight?”

Turan used Armania’s alias, as he often did to help him get used to it, and the masked Armania tilted his head back and forth repeatedly.

Each time, the lion’s mane decoration on the side of the mask swayed, and he seemed to enjoy the sensation.

“Hmm, it’s not like they can’t fight on land, but they’d be a lot weaker than near water. I’d estimate about half as strong…”

“About half, huh.”

Turan lightly clicked his tongue and scrapped one of his planned strategies.

It was the idea of using Berit to leak information to the Zahars about the northward movement of the Great Sea Serpents.

If the serpents were strong even on land, he could have profited from getting them and Zahar to clash.

But based on Armania’s words, there was a greater chance they’d just be slaughtered.

Even worse, Zahar might defeat or negotiate with the Great Sea Serpents and end up joining forces with them.

In that case, it was better to let them proceed as planned to the North Sea and fight the Carmines instead.

As they were talking, Solif let out a breath as he finished reading Rida’s letter.

“Three weeks from now?”

“Right. If word leaked early to Varaha, they might come out in full force for defense, so we need to join up a little ahead of schedule.”

Since there was no direct route to mainland Varaha through the South Sea, the basic plan was to land in the Grassy Plains and head north, just as Turan’s group had done in the past.

At Turan’s words, Solif took several deep breaths in and out, like someone feeling suffocated.

“Nervous?”

“Extremely.”

Like most wizards of great noble houses, Solif didn’t have a particularly deep personal relationship with his family head.

Not all successors were like that, of course, it was just that, since Solif had been raised as a soul vessel, they likely wanted to avoid introducing any impurities into his educational process.

Turan gestured lightly to Solif and said,

"Still, you've got that new item, right? Trust in it."

"Heh."

Solif gave a halfhearted laugh as he caressed the cloth draped over his back.

The magic artifact Meisa had created just a while ago.

Thanks to her devoting nearly a month of effort and even accepting a period of incapacitation, its functionality was powerful enough to surpass most sacred relics.

"Of course, don’t rely on that alone. You’ve been keeping up with training in soul magic, right? And regular magic too?"

"Ugh, nagging again... Of course I have."

"Then summon your spirit. Let’s pull out a few needles today too."

"Ugh."

At Turan’s words, Solif shook his head with an expression of dread, then obediently summoned his spirit.

Since Meisa had been focused on crafting magic artifact recently and recovering from its aftereffects, her spirit had weakened, so the needle removal procedure was now being done solely on Solif.

Thanks to the continuous extractions, the number of needles, originally well over a hundred, had now been reduced to around forty or fifty.

"At this rate, we might just manage to remove them all before the expedition..."

"Are you sure something good will happen if they're all removed?"

"I told you it would."

Of course, Turan didn’t really know what kind of effect it would have either, but he had an almost certain intuition that it wouldn’t be a bad one.

And so once again, the sound of needles being extracted and short screams echoed only in the spiritual realm.

*

They say it's calmest just before the storm.

As war approached, the atmosphere in House Parsha became quieter than ever before.

Meisa, having mostly recovered, left Turan’s side and resumed her daily routine, and Solif was often away for his training.

In the meantime, Turan was so busy that even two bodies wouldn’t have been enough.

As the head of House Parsha, he met with the lords of various cities who had become his vassals to listen to and resolve their grievances, and approved decisions on major issues affecting both the cities and the entire Gray Zone...

And on top of that, he even personally oversaw the combat training of Parsha’s nobles and knights, his own direct military force, so to speak.

Usually, for wizards who had reached a certain level of mastery, advice from another wizard was nothing but unnecessary meddling. But with Turan, things were a little different.

"You've improved a lot, Ozo. Your casting speed has doubled."

"It’s an honor! Family head, sir!"

Moved by Turan calling him by name, the low-ranking noble from House Korkan exclaimed with emotion.

These wizards, conscripted under the name of House Parsha, had roots in various noble houses but were technically Turan's direct forces. Naturally, they were not an easily controllable military unit, as they lacked strong bonds with him.

So, Turan not only had his Enchanters craft magic artifacts tailored to their abilities, but he also gave them guidance and encouragement whenever he had time.

At first, the wizards of Parsha believed that their young head, though powerful, was simply relying too much on his own strength and engaging in foolish behavior. However, when their skills noticeably improved each time they followed his advice, they couldn’t just ignore it anymore.

‘Back in the day, things like this weren’t so easy.’

Turan chuckled inwardly as he recalled teaching Ashiz magic in the past.

Back then, he couldn’t understand why other wizards couldn’t learn and use magic as easily as he could, and it frustrated him. But as he encountered more and more people in life, he naturally became accustomed to it.

To those a bit more lacking, he now taught from a slightly lower perspective.

Could it be that he had mastered knowledge, knowledge that even those dozens of times older than him struggled to grasp, because he had traveled far and experienced so much from a young age?

After finishing his daily tasks, Turan gave instructions to those diligently training in magic.

"After dinner tonight, all units I’ve designated are to assemble at the mansion’s third training ground."

"Yes, family head!"

To the family head, who was like the sky itself to them, the wizards of Parsha responded not with questions, but with obedience.

That was the result of the control he had earned over the past couple of months, having approached his forces as a teacher.

Turan looked down at those bowing politely with a complicated expression on his face.

'Should I really take them...'

The thought of taking only Meisa and Solif with him refused to leave his mind.

Those two were unlikely to die under normal circumstances, but if he brought a large force, brought the weak, then at least one among them was bound to die.

But sometimes, a shepherd must push his sheepdogs into the jaws of death.

While the wolf focused its attention on the dogs, the shepherd could more easily land a stone on the enemy’s head.

As he left the training ground, Turan looked up at the sun shining brightly in the sky.

Tonight, when that sun set and the moon rose, they would be on the eastern land of Varaha.

*****