Chapter 153.1

The girl's father was called the Barrel Knight.

It was a nickname given because, among the wizards who mostly had good figures, he alone had a belly sticking out like a barrel.

It was not a flattering nickname by any means, but her father would chuckle, tapping his belly, and say, "Of course, there is enough liquor in my belly for a hundred people to drink."

The girl's father, the Barrel Knight, died during the season when people were celebrating with harvested grain.

He died in a war, following the family head of the great noble house they served, fighting against another great house far in the east.

It was hard to believe that the father who, until just yesterday, had patted her head with his liquor-filled belly, was now dead.

Beside her, stunned and vacant, her mother, who was pregnant with her younger sibling, collapsed as if crumbling and cried.

After her father died, the girl's circumstances changed in an instant.

The people around them still outwardly showed respect and sympathy, but inwardly, they looked down on them, thinking of them as a fallen household.

Since the father was a knight of commoner origin and the mother was also a commoner, people assumed their children would be no different from themselves, and they vented the unconscious feelings of humiliation they had felt when previously bowing their heads.

"Let's move away."

"Move away?"

"Yes. Outside the city."

Her mother said that although there was some money left that her father had earned while working as a knight for the great house, it would be difficult to maintain such a large house without a steady income and that they should move to a smaller home.

The girl did not want to leave the city she had grown attached to, but she did not show it.

Because her mother, who was saying those words, had a much more painful expression than she did.

At that time, some unknown people came to their house.

"Are you the wife of Knight Erba?"

"Yes, but......."

"We are sent by the head of Parsha. Here."

At the mention of the head of Parsha, her mother's face turned pale.

It was inevitable since her husband had answered that summons and had soon returned dead.

Receiving the letter with trembling hands, her mother sat down and began to sob.

"Thank you, just thank you......."

"The head mourns the death of his comrade who fought by his side and has ordered that the families be cared for so they do not live in poverty. If there are any difficulties, contact here."

After saying that, the unknown person glanced at the girl and said.

"Is that your daughter?"

"Yes."

"She looks about ten years old. If she has talent, it will soon become apparent."

"If my daughter has talent, I will make sure she first steps through the gates of Parsha. Since we have received such grace, how could we dare not?"

The mother repeatedly expressed her gratitude, and after the unknown people left, she spoke to the girl.

That there would no longer be a need to move.

"The head of the Parsha House has decided to take care of our living expenses until your younger sibling grows up. It is truly a blessing."

Her mother's eyes shone like a fanatic's as she said it was rare for someone to look after the children of a wandering knight who had joined only in the current generation, unlike knights who had served the family for generations.

Listening to her mother's praises, the girl thought to herself.

She wanted to become someone who could help others like that.

Following that thought, the items around her floated gently into the air and spun around her.

*

"I think we might have spent too much on this survivor support, Turan. Should we cut back a little?"

"It is not like we are short on budget anyway."

At Turan's words, Ashiz groaned and nodded.

Though he used to be sentimental enough to shed tears at the deaths of knights who served him, once he took charge of the great noble house’s finances, he could no longer act emotionally as he once did.

Is it not said that the position shapes the person?

"Some of the knights' children will probably be born with a knight's power. Though extremely rare, some might even possess noble-level magic power. Would they want to serve a house that responded to their parents' deaths with mere pocket change? And what would those who see their fallen comrades' families living in poverty think?"

"That is true. But there are precedents, after all."

"Compared to other great houses, we have fewer places where money must be spent anyway. Better to use it for something like this than to let it sit idle."

There is a kind of tax that naturally arises for a house that has prospered for a long time.

It is the money used to support those who branched out from the house many generations ago and still bear the house’s surname.

You might think it would be fine just to ignore it, but it was difficult because having people bearing the great house's name living in poverty related directly to the house’s dignity.

There was also a high possibility that collateral branches, which had formed sufficient power within the house, would harbor dissatisfaction with such neglect.

In the end, a significant portion of the budget had to be wasted on maintaining each of them.

In comparison, Parsha was relatively free from that burden, as Turan was the only one who could be called a direct member of the house.

Of course, there was the drawback that the house’s income itself was still low because the system was not yet fully established.

"Take this opportunity to publicly declare that this level of compensation will be maintained. We are few and weak, so we must at least unite. The ones who survive against wolves are not the sheep that scatter at their own whim but the flock that bands together and confronts them."

"Understood."

Watching Ashiz leave, Turan recalled the words he had just spoken and laughed.

Exerting the house’s influence over the children of the deceased, boosting the morale of other wizards to bring them together.

Those were nothing but excuses.

He simply did not want to see the children of the sheepdogs who had fought under him and lost their lives starve to death.

He did not want those who fought following the shepherd to feel that their sacrifice had been in vain.

‘Besides... every time I make a choice like this, it feels good somehow.’

Turan closed his eyes and awakened his spiritual perception, concentrating on the sensation that seemed to warmly envelop his soul body.

One thread came from the distant south, another from the far east, and the last from right where he was.

Something unknown transmitted warmth and coldness, faintly connected to his soul body.

Among them, the thread connected to here, Kalamaf and the Gray Zone, had grown even thicker than just recently.

'Is this really the feelings of people toward me being transmitted?'

Turan suddenly recalled a conversation he had recently had with one of the half-elves of Varaha.

[I'm the reincarnation of the Night Hunter?]

[It is only a hypothesis, just a hypothesis.]

In a small cabin where shadows danced in the firelight of the hearth on a dark night.

The half-elf, sitting in an armchair and drinking hot lotus tea, answered Turan's question apologetically.

The prison that was originally a barren confinement for the half-elves had been transformed to match their individual tastes.

It was the result of multiple rounds of questions and careful comparisons.

Some others had worse conditions, but the half-elf before him had been exceptionally cooperative and humble, thus securing the second-best room after Reshion.

[Otas liked helping newbies, that is, beginners. He was very generous even to ordinary humans. He also had the decisiveness to firmly deal with his psychopathic children. In my opinion, you resemble him quite a lot.]

[Is it even possible for the soul of a dead god to reincarnate?]

[I don't know. However, we thought that some of those who completed their lifespans early must have reincarnated. The souls of us who crossed over to this world were so powerful that even when shattered into pieces, they could take over human consciousness.]

What the half-elf was talking about was none other than the fragments of gods’ souls that had possessed the consciousness of people like Midan or Visen in the past.

Even the gods had noticed the existence of those fragments early on and had conducted several studies, but they had not achieved any notable results.

It was said that the fragments merely attempted to use bits of knowledge that had applied only within the game world, like creating the Spirit of Fire.

Hearing that story, Turan recalled a doubt he had long harbored.

[Come to think of it, I always wondered why no one used things like the Spirit of Fire. So they already know the existence and the manufacturing method?]

[Yes. But it is intentionally not spread as a kind of arms control. The more we raise the baseline of the weak, the more disadvantageous it is for us."]

It was said that long ago, a great house from the western forest had once used the secret technique to create the Spirit of Fire and rebelled against the gods.

They had distributed the Spirit of Fire for combat, just as Turan was now doing with the direct wizards of Parsha, and because it had been more effective than expected, it had been quite troublesome to suppress.

Afterward, not only was there a thorough destruction of the method for manufacturing such items, but there was also a tacit agreement to never use such things again.

[Then, they would not look favorably upon me creating and spreading this either.]

[Probably not. By the way, the Spirit of Fire was originally called gunpowder, but then.......]

The half-elf suddenly trailed off for some reason.

Turan guessed that the other party intended to withhold this information to later reveal it and gain rewards, but he did not bother to press.

It was more beneficial to maintain a cooperative relationship and continue extracting information than to forcefully interrogate and squeeze it out immediately.

According to their proverb, there was no need to cut open the goose that lays golden eggs.

[Well, fine. Let's leave that topic there. So, you all do not know much about reincarnation either, right?]

[Correct. If we knew, we would have certainly used it ourselves. It's a more natural and convenient method than raising someone and taking over their body. So if a large soul chunk, not just tiny fragments, dwells in a newborn, we might consider that reincarnation. As for memories, they could be carried by small fragments.]

The half-elf listed the reasons why he believed Turan might be the reincarnation of Otas.

The most important was his extraordinary magical talent.