Chapter 153.2

Using Soul Magic or Necromancy, it was possible to harvest the souls of the dead in large quantities and consume them as materials to manipulate the spiritual talent of a newly born child.

These elements included magic handling skills, innate magical power, or the number of bloodlines one was born with.

However, what Turan possessed was almost impossible to create even with such methods.

Four bloodlines, transcendental learning ability, and an endless growth limit comparable to the heads of great noble houses.

At this level, he surpassed even Meisa, who was created by collaboration of Zahar and Aravion through the sacrifice of countless wizards, civilians, and magical resources.

How could such a thing be possible without the soul of a god residing within him?

There were many other clues.

The absence of a leash on his spiritual body, the existence of Bije who was deeply bonded and could even lend power as if reminiscent of the game's pet system, and his appearance similar to the default face of a hunter in the game.

Of course, there were plenty of counterarguments, such as that the absence of a leash was because of the Sky Mountain Range, or that Meisa was also attracted to Bije, but Turan did not bother.

'Whichever it is, what does it matter.'

The Soul Magic Book defined the soul body as the True Self, but Turan thought differently.

Accumulated memories and the personality formed through them were the true means of distinguishing oneself from others.

He did not care about a previous life he could not even remember.

To that, the half-elf shook his head and said.

[The problem is that I am not the only one who has such thoughts. Among the survivors now, there are those who like Otas, but also those who are hostile to him.......]

*

While lost in thought, Turan suddenly realized he had finished his administrative tasks mechanically and stepped out of the office.

Not through the door, but through a large window installed to one side.

Riding on Bije, who had sprung up from the back of his hand, he soared high into the sky while concealed.

He headed out of Kalamaf toward a nearby rocky mountain.

'Since I have some time left, I might as well do some training.'

When he had free time, he would normally take Solif or Meisa with him, but both happened to be busy today.

Solif was preparing something for the upcoming war against House Ruvan, and Meisa had gone to subjugate a dwarf lair that appeared north of Kalamaf.

After flying for a few minutes, Turan reached a suitable location and tried to land, but he frowned at the presence he sensed from below.

'How annoying.......'

Originally, the rocky mountains near Kalamaf were truly barren, a place where neither people nor animals would tread. However, at some point, visitors began to appear.

This was because traces were found occasionally in the area, proving that tremendous magical power had been exercised along with deafening booms.

Some claimed that a mythical magical beast resided nearby, while others insisted on the truth that the head of Parsha House was secretly honing his magical skills.

'I wish I had an indoor training ground good enough to use too.'

Typically, established great noble houses would have a training facility at their main estate where powerful wizards could hone their abilities. But as a hasty upstart house, Parsha had no such thing.

And the current situation was not exactly leisurely enough to establish a new one.

Passing by the spectators, Turan chose a secluded spot for landing, aided by the sense of his sacred relic and tracking magic.

No matter how much those people searched for thousands of years, they would not be able to find him anyway.

"Alright, let’s get started."

The first thing to begin with was simple stretching.

Using the gymnastics he had learned from Haram, Turan flexibly loosened all his joints and then launched himself forward.

Boom, with tremendous leg strength, he kicked off the ground, and his body explosively shot forward with a deafening roar.

'Oh.......'

The strength of Ruvan, who possessed two bloodlines specialized in physical combat, that of the Fighter and the Guardian, was truly overwhelming.

It wasn't really equivalent to the combined physical abilities of two bloodlines, but it at least allowed him to boast overwhelming physical abilities compared to someone with just one of them.

The speed was so fast that the wind hitting his face tore, creating a booming sound.

In response, Turan began practicing creating paths of wind matching his movements to reduce air resistance.

'There are a lot of things I need to adjust with this new power too.......'

Of course, as the head of the great noble House Parsha, dealing with external and internal affairs was important, but even more important was Turan’s personal combat strength.

In the end, if he could not overwhelm the heads of those other great houses and the possessed entities in their bodies by force, everything would be in vain.

In this world, violence was the only way to fully express one's will without being suppressed by others.

Punching into the air, kicking, running, and leaping.

Turan wreaked massive destruction on his surroundings for tens of minutes as he grew accustomed to his strengthened body.

Naturally, the rocky mountains bore a miserable sight.

Every punch created several meters-long cracks, and a single kick could send entire cliff faces flying.

After moving around vigorously for tens of minutes, Turan paused, catching his slightly ragged breath.

Originally, he would not have gotten tired from this level of activity, but now, his strength had increased so much that his stamina consumption seemed to have increased as well.

"Huuh, ha......."

The adjustment to his bodily senses was still far from perfect.

Unfortunately, his talent in martial arts was not as transcendent as his talent in magic.

But in a way, that made him appreciate it even more.

After all, the harder the task, the greater the sense of accomplishment when succeeding.

In contrast, with magic, if he simply tried to observe and learn, he would often achieve results almost instantly, making it difficult to gain that sense of effort and reward.

There were some exceptions, like the training he was doing now.

After adjusting his newly strengthened body, Turan officially began his magic training.

The first thing he started was what he had been practicing ever since his battle with Badal.

"Urgh—"

Woosh, as he activated his magic, Turan’s body was jerked as if someone grabbed him by the collar and yanked him.

It was the result of manipulating magnetism, the force that moved metal.

For this purpose, Turan had recently changed his frequently worn clothes.

From his coat to his underwear and even his shoes, he had appropriately embedded metal into every part, allowing him to move them whenever necessary.

Standing in place, Turan was dragged straight forward, then moved to the side, upward, forward again, and downward once more.

It was as if there were a puppet above his head, moving his body with strings.

Every time he ignored inertia and bent his direction at nearly a right angle, all his joints and muscles screamed.

'It hurts quite a bit.......'

Was Badal able to endure this because he also had the Fighter bloodline?

Or perhaps he had some smoother technique that allowed him to move without suffering so much pain.

With such thoughts, Turan used the inertia from his magnetism-based movement to throw a punch.

Whoosh, with even more force than before, his fist swung, and the sparse grasses growing near the rocky mountain swayed from the pressure.

If he had to name it, this technique deserved to be called Magnetic Body Art.

After training in it for a short while, Turan felt a sudden, steep drop in his magic power and stopped.

As expected, because he was still not proficient in handling magnetism, the efficiency of consumption was extremely poor.

'I should save some energy. I still have one last thing to practice.'

For his final exercise, Turan took out two items from the large-capacity pouch he always carried.

The weapon he had first begun using, though now somewhat overshadowed by his other abilities, the slingshot.

He loaded it with a metal marble and spun it around as he looked ahead.

'Now then.......'

The first step was to create a path of wind to eliminate air resistance.

Then, overlapping it, he created another path.

A path of invisible magnetic force.

'Will this really work?'

When asked to devise a way to apply magnetism, three of the four half-elves had proposed the same technique.

It was to use magnetism to impart repulsive force to the metal marble, accelerating it.

For someone like Turan, who specialized in shooting metal marbles, there was no better method.

One of them even taught him about Fleming's Left-Hand Rule. Although he could not clearly explain the concept of magnetic fields and electric currents, just the idea itself was helpful enough to Turan, who had already been using electricity and magnetism physically.

In return, Turan gave that half-elf an extra glass of wine as a reward.

Recalling what he had learned, Turan stabilized the magnetic path, spun the slingshot, and accurately loaded the marble into its entrance.

The Spirit of Fire embedded inside the slingshot exploded, giving the marble an initial burst of acceleration, and the marble, taking strength from the magnetic path, was accelerated again and shot forward.

"Oh......."

At the moment of acceleration, the metal marble literally became a streak of light.

Its speed was so extreme that it created an optical illusion, appearing like a long, thin straight line from the starting point to the target.

The projectile not only pierced through the cliff he had aimed at but also created a circular hole several meters in diameter around the impact point.

Entering the newly created cave, Turan walked for about eight hundred meters through walls vitrified by the immense heat before he finally found the half-melted metal marble.

"Insane."

Thinking he should send another round of food to the half-elves inside the jewel box later, Turan recalled the name of this technique.

According to them, this was a Railgun.