Chapter 43

A few more questions revealed that she had asked Egon how to head west. Yet when he named a few nearby places, she had seemed entirely unfamiliar with them. In other words, she could not have lived in Kalamap for long.

“Oh, come to think of it, the horse she rode didn't seem to be from around here either. Its coat shone gold all over. One look told you it was a fine horse, so I had to keep the stable firmly locked.”

Turan suddenly recalled something Rabus, an elder of the village below Hisaril Hill, had told him long ago. It had been before his mother died, before his relationship with the villagers soured.

Rabus had once stroked young Turan's head and told him that the village had owned an exceptionally fine golden horse. Hadn't he said that someone from a nearby city had paid a handsome price for it because it was such a magnificent animal?

His mother had probably ridden that horse to Hisaril Hill, then sold it to buy the sheep farm atop the hill. Naturally, those village bastards would have cheated her on the price.

'That settles it.'

There was no longer any doubt that the woman Egon, the vagrant before him, was describing was Turan's mother.

“Did she say anything about her husband?”

“Well, we didn't really talk that much. My late wife used to accuse me of making advances whenever I spoke to pretty women...”

Besides, the woman herself had been reluctant to mingle, so he hadn't even managed to make small talk. That made sense. If she truly had been on the run, she would have wanted as little contact with others as possible.

After repeating his earlier questions once to check whether any details changed, Turan gave him a few gold coins and sent him on his way.

“Oh, I couldn't possibly accept so much...”

“It was worth it.”

A few gold coins might be small change to Turan, but they were more than enough to see the vagrant through winter. Of course, not if he gambled them away, but worrying about that would be taking his concern too far.

Such a generous reward was likely to bring even more false reports, so Turan instructed the officials to collect the portraits and stop accepting tips. Now that he knew his mother wasn't from this city, he would be better off making inquiries elsewhere anyway.

Once everything was settled, he sprawled on the bed in his lodgings at the top of city hall.

“Phew...”

If she had left heading west, his mother must have come from the north, east, or south. Of those, east or south seemed the most likely. Either his mother or his father had to be from Zahar for him to have inherited its bloodline.

More troubling were her words asking him not to turn out like his father. Depending on how one took them, they could mean something good or bad. When he had asked as a child what his father was like, she had said he was a good man, so surely she had meant them in a positive sense. But then why had she asked him not to become like his father? And why had she been forced to flee alone?

As he lay lost in thought with his hands over his face, he heard the black eagle scratching out something beside him. When he lifted his head, it pushed a sand-filled metal tray toward him.

[Are you sick?]

Turan had made the tray himself after coming to Kalamap. Unlike writing on the ground, it left little room for long messages, but it could be used indoors. Of course, it was too large and heavy to carry around, so it was only useful when they were resting in their room like this.

“I'm not sick. I just have a lot on my mind.”

[Turan hurts when talking about Vije.]

“Hmm?”

The unexpected remark startled him, but on reflection, he had spoken about his mother in front of the eagle quite often. It had been beside him because of their soul bond ever since he first questioned Komad's House Head. They even shared some of their emotions through that bond, so he couldn't hide how he felt.

[Who is Vije? Mate?]

“No, my mother. The person who gave birth to me. Do you remember your mother?”

The black eagle tilted its head at his question, then shook it from side to side.

[Don't know. I have no mother.]

“I suppose I don't anymore either.”

It couldn't truly have been born without a mother, so it must have meant it didn't remember her. The black eagle gazed steadily at Turan as he stroked its head, then suddenly began to write.

[My name is Vije.]

“Hmm?”

[I'm Vije.]

The black eagle quickly erased that and formed another sentence.

[Turan hurts because Vije is gone.]

In other words, it thought he was suffering because his mother was gone, and wanted to take her name and fill her place. Its childlike innocence made Turan burst into hearty laughter despite himself.

“I appreciate the thought, but you don't have to do that. The days when I grieved over losing my mother are long past. It's your name, so you should think a little more carefully...”

[Thought a lot. I'm Vije.]

Even when he suggested thinking of another name, the black eagle stubbornly clacked its beak. Several more attempts to persuade it got him nowhere, and Turan shook his head.

“All right, well... if that's what you want. I'll call you Vije from now on.”

Really, sharing a name was hardly a big deal. Apart from a few names favored in particular regions, people used much the same names wherever one went. Turan himself had met three or four namesakes during his travels, and he had heard the name Vije several times too.

“Here's to our future together, Vije.”

[I'm Vije!]

The black eagle that had inherited his mother's name chirped and flapped its wings.

* * *

Quite apart from finding a clue to his mother's past, Turan faithfully fulfilled his duties as Kalamap's Protector. Given that he was personally feeding and nurturing the city, calling him its father wouldn't have been far-fetched either.

“Wait, those logs are flying here on their own...?”

“Come on, there's no time to rest. Get them sorted and take them to the sawmill.”

“How are these stones such perfect rectangular blocks? Even their dimensions are exact. We don't need to cut them at all!”

Once the food supply was more or less secure, Turan used magic himself to address the other shortages. He enhanced his dagger's cutting power and sent it flying through the air to fell dozens of trees, then brought them back with levitation spells. He also applied earth-alteration magic to reshape rock, securing large quantities of building stone.

As a bonus, the work honed his skill in telekinesis and earth alteration. With one powerful wizard putting his strength to work, he was every bit the equal of thousands of able-bodied men, and Kalamap's reconstruction gathered pace.

Moreover, word that a powerful wizard was protecting the city brought back people who had fled. After a few weeks, Kalamap displayed something close to its former prosperity, even if it had not quite regained it. Returning to city hall, Turan joined a meeting with the city's leading figures, who now looked considerably more human.

“Winter is gradually drawing to an end.”

“Not a single person froze to death this week. Ten people died, but eight were from old age and two from accidents during repair work.”

“All glory to the great Turan!”

They praised him, saying everything was improving and it was all thanks to his presence. Half tuning out their adoration, Turan studied a map spread out on one side of the meeting room. It depicted the area surrounding Kalamap.

'Still no sign of anything coming from the west.'

Following Kalamap's western road would lead to the region where House Arabion was waging war against the Dark Elves. The unknown entity that had wiped out the city's former ruling house—most likely a Dark Elf wraith sorcerer—would be somewhere out there.

Now that the city was stable enough, he needed to scout beyond the western road and identify it. He couldn't stay tied to this city for months or years simply because it wasn't attacking. With his Holy Relic's power and the black eagle's mobility, he should be able to find out what it was at relatively little risk.

When he shared his thoughts, everyone looked troubled.

“W-wouldn't that be too dangerous?”

“Perhaps you could wait a little longer...”

He wanted to seek out the unknown enemy that had annihilated Kalamap's former noble house? What would become of the city if he died? Yet they could only think such things, not dare urge him to stay. How could they presume to restrain someone who was no different from a living Freyan god to this city?

“I'll return at once if I sense anything strange, so there's no need to worry. Even if the enemy proves too strong for me, I won't lead it back to the city. Keep the people in order.”

Turan was informing them only because they needed to know he would be absent for a while. He wasn't asking their permission. Daruk and the other leading figures had no choice but to bow deeply and wish him a safe return.

Returning to his lodgings, he rested for about an hour to restore his mana to its peak, then climbed straight out the window.

“Let's go, Vije.”

Vije, the black eagle, chirped and soared into the sky. He was gradually getting used to calling it by his mother's name. Come to think of it, he had rarely called his mother by her name in the first place. As they rose above the city, several citizens noticed their shadow and called out to Turan.

“It's the black eagle! The black eagle!”

“O Turan of Kalamap! Protect this city forever!”

The citizens' praise made Turan distinctly uncomfortable. Once he had defeated the enemy to the west, he intended to step down as Kalamap's Protector and resume his travels.

He had already thought of a way to bring in a noble to replace him: offer the right to rule this city in exchange for investigating his mother's travels. Without the western threat, Kalamap was valuable enough to tempt any House Head.

There was no longer any need to distribute portraits as before. He need only ask them to look for a pregnant woman in her early twenties who had traveled alone on horseback some twenty years ago. Finding someone who remembered such an unusual case was far more likely than finding another person with Egon's exceptional memory.

Imagining it left him feeling uneasy. It was as though he were selling off the citizens who worshipped him as a god in exchange for information about his mother. If the next lord governed poorly and made the people suffer, wouldn't Turan himself bear some responsibility?

'This is why I didn't want to take charge of a city.'

Lost in thought, Turan realized he had already reached the edge of Kalamap's territory. Vije's flying speed truly was extraordinary.

“Now, let's have a look...”

With his intent, the Holy Relic's senses began to expand. He sensed the flames of countless living creatures below, but nothing resembling a wraith or a Dark Elf among them.

“Let's go a little farther, Vije.”

Vije chirped and flew west once more. Turan designated Dark Elves as his tracking target and even used Search magic to check for any scent, but found nothing. Had the threat that had been here moved elsewhere?

'That would be a problem in its own right.'

Defeating an enemy he could see would set his mind at ease, but if it had moved elsewhere, didn't that mean it could return? Above all, without tangible results, the other cities' House Heads wouldn't accept that the threat was gone. He couldn't exactly tell them he had searched every inch with the Zahar bloodline's Search magic...

How long had he spent sweeping back and forth across the area? Just as he began to think he might end up leaving the Gray Zone altogether, he saw a single flame blazing brightly ahead.

“Stop!”

At Turan's urgent shout, Vije immediately began to hover. It was an advanced maneuver impossible for an ordinary black eagle, achievable only because this monster possessed strength far beyond its size. Hanging there, Turan frowned at the enormous flame of mana caught by the Holy Relic's senses.

'A wraith... no, a wizard?'

When he changed his Search magic's target to humans, the body scent it picked up confirmed that this was a wizard—and a noble at that. Their mana exceeded even Perga's and was more than twice Turan's current strength.

Someone of that caliber would rank among the most vital members of even a great house. Just then, the unknown figure turned in Turan's direction and rose into the air.

'They noticed me? From this far away?'

Just as he was about to order Vije to flee south at once, Turan realized that the way the other person flew was quite familiar. Rising into the air, then flying as though riding the wind...

Before long, he came face-to-face with the wizard who had flown over from the distance.

“Turan?”

“It's been a while, Maysa.”

Maysa Arabion, Arabion's heir, stared at him with surprise on her distinctive, skull-like face.