Chapter 20

Turan was left speechless by the shocking news that the Dark Elves had raised an army—and had even brought down three cities. Considering that a single city usually had dozens of villages around it, he could scarcely imagine how many lives had been lost. Maysa seemed to feel much the same. After a long silence, she forced herself to speak.

"... All right. Tell them I'll return soon."

"You must leave at once—"

"I said I'm going!"

The man flinched at her sharp voice, then bowed deeply and left the garden. Maysa let out a heavy sigh and turned to Turan.

"It looks like it's time for me to head back."

"Please be careful."

There was only one obvious reason to summon Maysa now that a Dark Elf army had appeared. They would be having her join the subjugation force.

Turan did not offer to accompany her to fight the Dark Elves. Quite apart from his need to conceal his bloodline, the great House Arabion was not so weak that it needed an outsider's help to deal with the other races. To them, he would look more like a thief tagging along to quietly steal a share of their spoils—mana.

"Thank you. Oh, come to think of it, at this rate I'll be leaving without repaying you for teaching me Decay."

Maysa hesitated for a long while, considering something, before speaking cautiously.

"Turan, did you know that electricity flows through the human body, too?"

"Electricity...?"

Her face brightened at his puzzled reaction.

"You didn't know? Then how about we call my debt settled if I teach you all about it? I'm sure you'll find it very useful."

"All right."

The moment Turan agreed, Maysa launched into the theory.

"When a person sees or feels something, that part of the body sends electricity to the head. If you see something, it goes from your eyes to your brain; if you smell something, from your nose to your brain. The head uses that electricity to interpret sensations, then sends electricity back throughout the body to command it to move."

The more she said, the more absurd it sounded. Why would the same power as lightning flow through the human body, and how could it convey sensations or commands?

But having frequently encountered knowledge of this sort at the library, Turan knew that some truths defied intuition. Rather than trying to understand it, he first committed the information to memory. This was surely part of the knowledge of the laws of nature that House Arabion had passed down through the generations.

"And what if you use magic to speed up that electricity?"

"You would perceive things and react more quickly."

"Exactly. Would you like to try?"

Still half doubtful, Turan immediately put her theory to the test. First he imagined channels of tiny lightning flowing through his body. Then he poured in mana, willing the lightning traveling through those channels to move faster—

"Hooow... iiis... iiit...?"

The instant he cast the spell, Maysa's voice stretched out strangely. Realizing that even his own blinking had slowed, Turan took a slow step forward. It felt as though his body were submerged in water...

He had spent a dozen or so seconds savoring the slowed world when a sharp headache stabbed at his temples. He quickly released the spell, and the world returned to normal in an instant.

"Did it work?"

"Yes. What in the world..."

Even that brief trial was enough to reveal the spell's tremendous potential. So much so that he could not understand why she had traded it for mere information about Decay.

"The headaches will probably make it difficult at first, but once you're used to it, you'll be able to keep it going for quite a while."

"This... However I look at it, this seems far too much in return for what I gave you."

Maysa smiled and nodded as though she had expected him to say that.

"Perhaps it is. But then you can repay me when you learn an even better spell, can't you?"

With that, she flew straight out of the garden before Turan could reply.

"Ah..."

Only then did Turan realize that this had been her way of promising they would meet again. In the distance, the Arabion man who had left a little earlier could be heard plaintively calling for his lady.

* * *

Left alone, Turan finished practicing his magic and ran into Asiz on his way back to his room. From the weariness on his friend's face, he could guess that Asiz had just come from something uncomfortable or difficult—a house meeting, for instance.

"Turan, I don't know if you've heard..."

"The Dark Elves?"

"What? Where did you hear about that? Mother only just told me."

"Just now, while I was training with Lady Maysa. Do you think those two I killed caused this?"

"I don't know. They don't go around explaining every reason for their massacres."

Despite his words, Asiz's face darkened. He, too, seemed to privately suspect that their clash had caused it. Of course, he had been nothing more than a victim, but people's feelings did not fall into such neat categories.

"Will House Berg be joining the fighting?"

"Huh? No, we won't be going. We're too busy making magic tools. Uncle Haram will be staying here at the house, too."

In other words, there would be no disruption to the making of Turan's magic tool.

"More importantly, what are you going to do now?"

"About what?"

"What do you mean, about what? There's a war! Setting off on a pilgrimage alone at a time like this is suicide. Run into an army of wraith sorcerers on the road, and you'll be ascending to the palace in the heavens that very day."

Asiz was proposing that he remain a guest of House Berg for a while, even after receiving the magic tool. At least long enough for the situation to be properly resolved—anywhere from a few months to a year.

"No, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I have things I need to do, too."

And he would rather not become any more indebted to House Berg if he could help it. Unless he joined the house, it would become a debt he could never repay. Realizing that Turan would not be persuaded, Asiz sighed deeply.

"Ugh. Well, if that's what you've decided, I can't stop you..."

"It's not as though I'm leaving forever. We'll see each other again someday. I could come visit."

"True."

That seemed to ease his mind a little. Asiz smiled and gave Turan several hearty pats on the shoulder.

"Come to think of it, I hadn't really noticed because I see you every day, but you've gotten a lot bigger lately."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. You're starting to look a bit like my uncle."

As he said, Turan's formerly slender body had changed considerably over the past three weeks. He was not quite as thickly built as Haram, despite Asiz's comparison. Rather, if his old physique had resembled a deer, it was now closer to a leopard's.

It was a feat that would have been impossible without the exercise equipment at the Berg residence and Haram's thorough instruction. Under ordinary conditions, it was difficult even to put enough strain on a noble's body to build muscle.

"Actually, I do feel about twice as strong these days. My stamina's improved a lot, too."

"... That much?"

"Yeah. You should find a chance to ask him to train you sometime, if you can."

"Hmm."

After thinking it over for a long while, Asiz shook his head. "No, I think I'll pass."

It was not that he was particularly lazy. Haram's physical training truly was that punishing. If anything, Turan was the odd one for accepting his instruction when his bloodline was not even specialized for close combat.

"Well, anyway, I'm glad I had it made a little larger in case you grew. It should fit reasonably well."

"What should?"

Asiz merely grinned and shook his head at the question.

"You don't need to know. Just look forward to it."

Turan asked again what on earth he meant, but Asiz refused to tell him.

* * *

A few days after Maysa left for the main house, Turan visited Morgen City, the heart of the Dakayn Plains, together with the members of House Berg. They had come to see off the subjugation force setting out to defeat the Dark Elf army.

The Arabion main house alone had contributed twenty-seven nobles and four hundred knights... With the addition of nobles and knights from vassal houses whose bloodlines were suited to combat, the scale was staggering. And had they not said that several times this many nobles and knights had fought one another in the war against Zahar?

"Glory to Arabion!"

People lining the route thrust their clenched fists high and shouted as the subjugation force marched past.

Before long, Turan spotted Maysa at the very front of the formation. Unlike during her recent recuperation at the Berg residence, her skeletal face was now filled with the same exhaustion he had seen at their first meeting. It was as though the last few days at the main house had been far from pleasant.

"Oh, there's Maysa. Maysa! Over here!"

Asiz waved excitedly, only for House Head Midella, who was watching beside him, to quickly push his hand down. While she was still lecturing him to please show some dignity as a noble, an Arabion noble rose into the air and shouted.

["The House Head approaches!"]

Perhaps through an application of wind magic, the voice carried clearly to the tens of thousands who had come to see the force off. As the crowd fell silent in an instant, Turan saw an old man walking toward the front of the force.

'So that is...'

Badal Arabion, the current Head of House Arabion. Maysa's father looked well over sixty. How many years must such a powerful noble have lived to look that old, and how much mana had he accumulated in all that time?

"Asiz."

"What?"

"Arabion's House Head looks rather pale. Is he unwell?"

His face was far too pale to put it down to age alone. It would hardly have been surprising if he collapsed on the spot. Asiz scratched his head at Turan's question.

"Well, I've heard he was injured in a duel with Zahar's House Head long ago... And at his age, who knows?"

"Hmm."

A moment later, the House Head's aged voice rang out.

["Warriors of Arabion, you now depart to defend humanity. I command you: do not return alive until you have slaughtered every last one of those wicked creatures of the other races. For humanity."]

"For humanity!"

Everyone echoed his words and waited for the rest of the speech. Contrary to their expectations, however, the House Head merely gazed silently at the force and said no more. Surely that could not be all he had to say? Not after assembling an army like this?

Turan was apparently not alone in thinking so, for a murmur spread through the crowd. It lasted only a moment. The instant the House Head raised his hand, everyone fell silent. They all sensed it instinctively: something tremendous was about to happen.

"Ah..."

At some point, the clear, sunlit sky had begun to cloud over, casting shadows across the people's faces. Turan realized that the House Head was controlling the winds high above to gather clouds. Just how skilled at wind magic did one have to be, and how much mana did one have to expend, to make that possible?

A moment later, he lowered his hand with a quiet murmur.

["Go forth, trusting that I stand behind you. This is the power of Arabion."]

RUMBLE

Thunder sounded from far in the distance.

A moment later, the clouds turned pitch-black and began releasing bolts of lightning one by one. Once, twice, three times—

The lightning, which had fallen like leaking drops of water, began pouring down like rain.

Was this what the wrath of the gods in the heavens looked like? Faced with a sight unlike anything they had ever witnessed, the people shouted wildly, half out of their minds.

"Aaaaaah!"

"May Arabion endure forever!"

"For humanity!"

"O Thunder Lord, bless your descendants!"

Some cried out in fear, others in awe, pouring out whatever words came to mind. Turan, too, watched the display of power before him, scarcely able to breathe. Had Keorn not once said he had seen Arabion's House Head crush a small hill with a single gesture? This display of magic was no less impressive. Even from here, he could feel the destructive force carried by each individual bolt of lightning.

It was not hard to guess why he would exert such power despite his poor health. This was probably a show of force aimed at the various powers that might target Arabion, particularly those connected to Zahar. It told them he was still strong—that they must not dare set their sights on Arabion simply because some of its forces were away.

A little later, when the sky cleared, Asiz murmured with a half-dazed expression.

"Wow. I'm not sure even an actual Freyan descending from the heavens could match that."

Turan agreed, but even as he did, another thought came to mind. He remembered what the library spirit had once told him: that he was the wizard whose bloodline was closest to a god's.

'Someday, I too...'

Turan yearned to become a being as powerful as that.