Chapter 69

After their reunion at the palace entrance, their first stop was to announce their visit to Midella, Asiz's mother and the head of House Berg. She warmly welcomed her son's benefactor, returning after several months away, and gave him a guest villa.

Solif was introduced simply as a friend Turan had met on his travels, a wandering noble with the Pyromaniac bloodline. With his plain clothes and missing arm, he looked every inch an impoverished Wanderer who had led a hard life, so no one questioned it.

After greeting the Berg nobles he had met before, Turan entered the villa and asked Asiz how Haram was doing. He had not seen the man, Asiz's uncle by marriage and the teacher who had taught him hand-to-hand combat and physical conditioning.

"Uncle? He went out hunting a monster."

"A monster?"

"A giant wolf, I think. Judging by its reported size and speed, he said the knights couldn't handle it, so he went himself. He should have it in a few days."

It would have been nice to see him right away. Swallowing his disappointment, Turan sat down in the villa's drawing room. Asiz and Solif regarded each other with the slight awkwardness common to friends of a mutual friend. It seemed they would need more time to grow close.

Perhaps hoping to dispel the odd atmosphere, Asiz turned his attention to Vije, perched at Turan's side.

"Who's this? A pet?"

"Her name is Vije. We have a soul bond."

"Oh... Like tilly?"

"That's right."

Tilly was an enormous horse standing some three meters at the shoulder. Like Vije, the horse was a monster whose soul was bound to a wizard—in this case, Midella, the Berg House Head. On their previous encounter, of course, tilly had been accompanying Asiz on his pilgrimage.

"Could I pet her?"

"Ask Vije herself. She's as intelligent as a person."

"Would that be all right, Vije?"

Vije started to write an answer with her talon, then nodded instead, apparently deciding not to damage the expensive table. Her ready compliance made Solif grumble beside them.

"That little brat was nothing but vicious to me..."

After some small talk about the black eagle monster lightened the mood, the conversation turned to what they had been doing lately.

"Me? Same as always, really."

"Didn't you say you were going on another pilgrimage?"

"Well, I should rest for a few years first..."

It was a leisurely sense of time befitting a long-lived noble. Then again, it was Turan who was unusual for a noble, rushing through life like a commoner and considering weeks or months a long time.

After a cup of tea, Asiz brought up the recent campaign against the Dark Elves.

"I hear you joined Maysa on the Dark Elf campaign?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"Everyone's talking about it! They say a noble with uncanny skill at slinging stones joined the fighting. Who else could that be but you?"

"Fair point."

Even the Zahar nobles he had seen used bows or other throwing weapons, not slings. Slings were regarded as weapons for the lowborn.

It was not that Turan had never considered switching to a deadlier weapon, but abandoning the proficiency he had built over so many years felt like a waste. Even with a fireball, he could launch it harder for less mana by throwing it as though firing a sling.

"Tell me about it. How did you get mixed up in all that? And what's this rumor about you having the Barrier-user bloodline?"

"Oh, that."

Come to think of it, he had used the Mimic Holy Relic to tell that lie, hadn't he? He had spouted so much nonsense everywhere he went that even he sometimes lost track.

Turan briefly scanned his surroundings with the Holy Relic's senses to check for spies, then used wind magic to block sound from passing around the drawing room. Asiz's eyes widened in surprise.

"H-huh?"

He knew perfectly well that Turan was a magical genius, but wielding a technique like this so effortlessly was another matter. As a vassal of Arabion, he could hardly fail to recognize that such precise control over wind lay beyond what proficiency alone could achieve.

"You—you have the Arabion bloodline?!"

"You hadn't told him either? You said he was your closest friend. How do you have this many secrets?"

Listening beside them, Solif muttered in disbelief at Asiz's astonishment. Turan ignored him and sank back into his chair.

"This is going to be a long story, so let me explain from the beginning."

In that private room, free from anyone's interference, Turan revealed what he had learned in Kalamap about his parents' past: the love affair between a knight's daughter abducted from Arabion and a Zahar noble, and its tragic end.

Asiz, who had never so much as suspected any of it, gaped wide enough for a bug to fly into his mouth. Solif, who at least knew Turan's bloodlines, merely clicked his tongue softly.

He went on to tell them how a boy named Turan, born on Hisaril Hill far to the west, had lived as a shepherd, met the knight Keorn, and journeyed east until he encountered Asiz. That latter part of the story was meant to demonstrate that he had met Asiz without any connection to House Zahar.

"... And that's more or less how it happened."

After a brief silence, Asiz gulped down the tea beside him and broke into a coughing fit. Then he bowed his head slightly to Turan.

"Thank you for being honest with me. That can't have been easy to tell."

Relief, joy, and gratitude welled up inside Turan. He sank deeper into his chair to hide them. He tried to keep his composure, but his voice came out slightly thick.

"I only kept it from you because I was a coward."

In the past—until quite recently, to be precise—Turan had concealed his identity almost obsessively. A major reason was the history of Keorn, the knight who had told him he possessed the Zahar bloodline. Learning that his own relatives had slaughtered the family of a man he privately regarded as a father had left him with a vague self-loathing.

Those feelings only intensified when all the friends he made afterward turned out to be affiliated with Arabion. If his identity came to light and his friends looked at him with contempt, it would be truly unbearable.

What began to ease that self-loathing was learning that his other half came from Arabion, and that he had been born of his parents' love. It also helped to discover that the Arabion nobles he met were not uniformly noble-hearted as he had imagined.

And after the recent battle on the island to save Solif, he had even overcome some of his compulsive need to keep his identity hidden. He now had the confidence to clash with a great house for something he wanted to do, something he believed was right—and the ability to back it up.

Besides, considering how much he would need to ask of Asiz from now on, he needed to lay everything bare here. There was no greater demonstration of complete trust than exposing one's deepest vulnerabilities.

Once he had recovered somewhat from the shock, Asiz grinned and offered a flattering joke.

"A bloodline combination between great houses... If you formally joined the main house, Maysa's position might be in danger."

"Keep what I've told you secret."

"Huh? Why? The Zahar bloodline might make people a little uneasy, but they'd welcome a noble born with four bloodline abilities without question. Of course, if you'd rather keep wandering, that's your choice..."

Asiz's words reflected the ordinary outlook of nobles. Most wanted to enjoy a life of luxury as a core member of a great house, not live as a Wanderer of unknown origins.

Turan glanced at Solif, who had been sitting quietly beside him.

"That has something to do with Solif here... Do you mind if I tell him?"

"If you trust him that much."

With Solif's permission, Turan briefly explained his identity and past. On learning that this seemingly ordinary wandering noble was the heir to a great house in the far east, Asiz sprang to his feet and bowed.

"To think we've offered someone of your standing such humble hospitality—"

Why react like this when Maysa, his younger second cousin, was also a great house's heir? Turan was rather taken aback, but on reflection, it would be difficult to treat a younger relative and a complete stranger in the same way. Solif shook his head, evidently accustomed to such reactions.

"Never mind that. I've left my house now."

Ignoring the two men, who remained painfully awkward with one another, Turan continued his explanation. The subject now was graver still: the various incidents he had encountered since leaving House Berg, the secret information about the gods and the great houses he had learned through them, and finally, the hypothesis he had drawn from it all.

By the time he had heard everything, Asiz looked ten years older than when he had first met Turan.

"Ah, this is... far too much for me to handle."

"You can't tell the House Head or anyone else who isn't here, Asiz. You're the only person I trust enough to tell all of this."

At Turan's solemn words, Asiz trembled for a moment, then let out a deep sigh and rubbed his face.

"So what are you planning to do now?"

"I want to find out whether there are Freyans behind Arabion, and whether they're toying with Maysa's life the way they did with our friend here. Can you help?"

This was hardly someone else's problem for Asiz. Maysa's mother was the younger cousin of his own mother, Midella, the Berg House Head.

After a moment's silence, Asiz spoke in a firm voice that held a resolve absent moments earlier.

"All right. To hell with it, let's try. We can think of it as putting on a magnificent play. Surely I'm good enough for a supporting role."

Turan burst out laughing at the words of a true theater fanatic. With the joke easing the mood, they dispelled the magic sealing the room and called a servant for tea.

This time, Asiz savored his tea elegantly instead of gulping it down, then asked,

"So what can I do to help?"

"I'd like to restore his arm. Do you know any Healers? They don't have to be especially skilled, as long as they can keep a secret."

"Ah, because we can't let anyone discover how strong this gentleman... is?"

"Exactly."

The stronger a magical being was, the more power healing it required. A Healer therefore could not help learning just how powerful their patient was, whether they wanted to or not.

And Turan did not want anyone discovering that Solif was a top-ranking noble. He had no desire for rumors to spread about an immensely powerful silver-haired noble. More importantly, Solif could serve as a hidden reserve if something unexpected happened while they investigated Arabion from within. This was a strategic judgment, separate from his old compulsions.

"Hmm, I do know someone. But she travels around a fair bit, so I don't know if I can get her here right away."

"Is she on a pilgrimage?"

"No, healing commoners is her hobby."

"Oh."

That description alone earned the unknown Healer high marks in Turan's estimation.

Asiz went on to explain that her name was Lua Manag, a noble of House Manag, one of Arabion's vassal houses. She had been born to knights with noble-caliber mana and adopted into the family as a daughter.

"Ah, is that why?"

"Exactly."

Mana might be what mattered most in the nobles' world, but differences in standing based on birth still existed. Those born to noble parents of equal status, like Asiz and Solif, were the most highly regarded. Those with one parent—usually the mother—who was a concubine occupied the middle ground, while nobles born to knights or commoners through an ancestral throwback were considered the lowest. Exceptional ability might make a difference, but without it, they inevitably remained outsiders even among nobles.

"On top of that, everyone thinks she's an eccentric for going out of her way to heal commoners, so they don't like her much. I don't care about any of that, though."

As expected of the very embodiment of friendliness, a man who got along with even his house's knights and servants.

In any event, if his description was accurate, she was exactly the person Turan wanted. If she had no noble friends apart from Asiz, there would naturally be no one for her to spread rumors to.

"But if we're unlucky, it could take a few months."

"Just try contacting her first. If it looks like it'll take too long, we can go find her ourselves. This one is the fastest creature in the world."

As Turan said this and stroked her head, Vije gave a chirp far too adorable for a creature her size.

* * *

Returning to House Berg's guest villa after so long still felt like entering another world. In a room filled with magic tools for every imaginable convenience, Turan washed and changed, then invited Asiz and Solif to enjoy a feast in the villa's dining room.

He had had no chance to enjoy such fine food since leaving Komad, where he had bought Vije. Treating his palate after months of deprivation lifted his spirits without effort. Solif, who had spent his whole life as a great house's heir, seemed to feel much the same.

"Yes, damned family or not, this was one good thing about them. Ah, I do miss it a little..."

"Want to go back?"

"Very funny. I think the food here suits me better."

With his weary body and mind somewhat soothed, the first thing Turan did was write Maysa a letter. He told her he was staying with House Berg and wanted to see her, asking her either to visit or to invite him over.

Someone was certain to read it before she did, so he made no mention of anything he could not discuss with others.

'I'd prefer it if Maysa came here.'

Even now, he was somewhat reluctant to enter Arabion's main house. That was why, when he had gone to watch the departure ceremony before, he had only visited the city's outskirts before leaving.

Of course, going inside had advantages of its own. Some information could only be obtained by seeing things firsthand.

After sending the letter, he slipped into Asiz's room without anyone noticing and brought out the task he had been putting off: analyzing the magic tools acquired during his travels.

"Good grief, how many are there?"

"Quite a few, aren't there?"

"That's more than 'quite a few'..."

Turan had laid out fifteen magic tools in total. For an Enchanter house like Berg, or a great house with such families as vassals, that might be manageable. Ordinary nobles would have to bleed their house dry to afford them.

With an incredulous laugh, Asiz began examining the magic tools, touching each in turn. First came the ring and earring from the western wilderness.

As expected of possessions taken from low-level nobles, neither was particularly impressive. One improved the wearer's night vision, while the other provided a modest increase in fire resistance. The earring might be somewhat helpful, but the ring was utterly useless to him, so he thought it best to give it to Solif.

Next, Asiz examined the Baraha nobles' magic tools. Most offered defense, support, or imitations of bloodline magic, and their performance befitted the possessions of a great house.

Although Turan had learned something of their functions in combat, establishing their exact capabilities and side effects was essential to using magic tools. That was no easy task without an Enchanter among one's acquaintances, as he fortunately had now.

As Turan listened carefully to each explanation and considered which tools to keep and which to distribute, Asiz finally placed his hand on the transformation mask. It was likely the item a Baraha noble had used to manipulate Solif and pose as a pirate.

Closing his eyes, Asiz fed mana into it to examine its functions, then suddenly frowned.

"Hmm..."

"What is it? Something strange?"

He had not reacted like this once while examining the other tools. At Turan's question, Asiz opened his eyes and replied.

"Well, the function itself is useful, if a little gruesome. Put it on a corpse's face and feed mana into it, and it stores that face. Put it on a living person's face and activate it, and it changes their face to the stored one. It lasts until you take the mask off, and it consumes mana continuously."

"How much mana?"

"A knight could only manage a few hours. A noble-caliber wizard would recover mana just barely faster than it consumes it, so they could probably keep it on indefinitely. But after using magic, they'd recover almost nothing."

The rate of mana recovery was proportional to one's total reserves. From that explanation, a high-level wizard like Turan could wear it almost indefinitely at the cost of slightly slower mana recovery. He could simply remove the mask whenever he needed to fight at full strength, making that an entirely manageable side effect.

"Sounds good."

"It is. With functions like these, you could call it a top-grade magic tool. But I think there's another item that pairs with it. It seems you need to use them together to access its true function."