Chapter 71

Morgen City, Arabion's capital, had truly ideal conditions for becoming a metropolis.

First, it lay at the heart of the Dakayn Plains, which could sustain an immense population. Second, there were no mountains nearby to obstruct its expansion, and the mighty Rivel River flowed through the city. Third and last, it was protected by House Arabion of the Storm Bloodline, one of the most powerful great houses in the world.

While most great-house capitals had populations of between a hundred and two hundred thousand, Morgen had more than four hundred thousand. No one paid any attention to an extra wanderer or two passing through its gates. That was how a certain middle-aged traveler entered Morgen City without incident.

Perfectly disguised, Turan gazed about the greatest city in the world, just as any traveler from the countryside might.

'Even seeing it again, I can't get over how enormous it is...'

He had visited Morgen once before, but he had only watched the departure ceremony on the outskirts before leaving. This was his first time venturing inside.

As he walked deeper into the city, he could see how carefully it had been planned. Near the common people's residential districts were entertainment and commercial quarters with theaters, gambling dens, bathhouses, and brothels. Farther in, there were more refined cultural facilities for those of higher status: libraries, debating halls, and athletic grounds.

Noisy, foul-smelling establishments such as smithies, paper mills, and dye works stood well away from residential areas, but large carriages traveled constantly along well-maintained, broad roads, ferrying people back and forth. The whole city felt almost like a finely crafted work of art.

All the waste produced by so many people flowed through a well-maintained sewer system into the city's river. As it traveled downstream, magic tools installed in the water purified it without any further intervention. There seemed to be several top-grade tools drawing on the power of the Purifier bloodline.

While admiring the city's layout, Turan also activated the Holy Relic's senses, remembering to examine the mana and bloodlines of passersby.

As one might expect in a great-house capital, knights and nobles were a common sight. Surprisingly, quite a few of them wore ordinary people's clothes, just as Turan did. Some were probably merely Wanderers who wanted to avoid a fuss or keep their presence hidden from Arabion. Otherwise, they were very likely criminals or spies.

After what must have been several hours of walking and observing passersby, he finally reached the city center, where Arabion's main house came into view.

At the dazzling sight, Turan instinctively shielded his eyes with a hand and muttered, "Ah, that's bright..."

That was no figure of speech about its splendor. The magic lamps densely embedded in the white walls really were blinding. Any Zahar noble who tried to infiltrate using stealth would have all their mana drained in an instant.

Turan slowly circled the walls, confirming that this 'wall of light' completely enclosed Arabion's main house. There was only one way in: a large gate. Four nobles and some forty knights were stationed before it, while inspectors checked the identities of those passing through.

Naturally, the gate was also packed with magic lamps, making it difficult to slip through under stealth. There was also a strong likelihood of detection tools similar to the one Maysa had used before.

What about flying over to avoid all that? Of course, they had guarded against that as well. A net of mana covered the entire open space above the walls.

None of Arabion's vassals possessed the Barrier-user bloodline, so they must have used a magic tool or hired an outsider to do the work. The mana net even extended underground, apparently accounting for anyone attempting to tunnel in through earth alteration.

'I can't even examine the interior with the Holy Relic.'

At its current maximum output, the Mimic Holy Relic allowed Turan to sense mana within an area roughly five hundred meters across and bloodlines within fifty meters. Yet neither sense worked beyond the checkpoint. That seemed to be either another function of the barrier or a separate defense against detection.

After inspecting the surroundings for some time, Turan conceded that the straightforward approach of slipping in under stealth simply would not work. That was only natural. If it had been easy, Zahar's nobles would have reduced this place to chaos long ago.

Of course, that did not mean he was giving up.

* * *

"Name and occupation."

"Beka. Gardener, sir."

When the man, who looked to be in his early thirties, gave his name, the inspector found the gardener section in the documents beside him and leafed through it. Before long, he reached a page detailing a gardener named Beka.

Short red hair, brown eyes, a bulbous nose, buckteeth, medium height, a protruding belly, one leg slightly shorter than the other, and a long scar on his cheek. Not only did every feature match perfectly, but his face was identical to the portrait rendered in precise detail through magic.

After checking his entry pass as well, the inspector nodded.

"Go through."

"Thank you!"

With that cheerful reply, Beka the gardener passed through the checkpoint into the main house grounds. Graceful, immaculate buildings befitted a place where a great house's core members lived. Looking at the people passing by, Beka—or rather, Turan—smiled.

'That was easier than I expected.'

After taking lodgings near the wall of light and staying a day, Turan had explored the area around the gate, changing his appearance repeatedly to avoid attracting attention while he studied the inspection system. He had discovered that Arabion did not control access to its main house as strictly as he had imagined.

Of course, with more than a hundred nobles, around a thousand knights, and over ten thousand servants to attend them inside, meticulously controlling everyone's movements was impossible. Simply making portraits and entry passes for everyone was a level of security no ordinary house could match.

Targeting servants as those least likely to attract attention, Turan had made several approaches before getting a gardener on leave thoroughly drunk. He had stolen the man's appearance, entry pass, and clothes, leaving three silver coins in exchange.

Once the gardener sobered up, he would have some trouble getting back in without his pass. But since no entry records were kept, there was little chance anyone would notice that the same person had entered twice. The inspector checked hundreds of people every day; even if he remembered the face, he would probably dismiss it as his imagination.

'Besides, I'm not keeping this face anyway.'

Although he had chatted with Beka over drinks, he had not learned the details of the man's personality or his relationships with family and friends. In other words, meeting anyone who knew the owner of this face would expose him immediately.

To avoid that awkward situation, Turan hid in the shadow of the building nearest the outer wall and created a face by mixing features from several Arabion knights he had seen at the checkpoint.

A boy in his mid-to-late teens, with blond hair and brown eyes, slightly short and slender. Replacing the shabby gardener's clothes with the training outfit he had brought from House Berg completed the transformation into a fresh-faced Arabion apprentice knight.

He stuffed his former clothes into his High-Capacity Pouch, then strode down the main road with perfect confidence.

'So this is a great house's main residence.'

Heightening the Holy Relic's senses, he detected countless wizards and magic tools. He carefully analyzed their strength one by one.

'For the nobles, about fifteen in the bottom tier, thirty in the lower tier, forty-two in the middle tier, seventeen in the upper tier, and five at the top. Too many knights to count easily...'

Ever since acquiring the Mimic Holy Relic, Turan had been examining nobles' mana and loosely classifying their strength. Recently, after discussing it with his companions, he had divided them into five broad tiers. This would let him convey the strength of anyone he observed in relatively simple terms.

Knights were excluded from the outset. From a noble's perspective, the differences between them were negligible.

The bottom tier consisted of those too young to have fully developed their mana, or those exceptionally lacking in talent even among ordinary nobles—the very lowest level, having only just awakened their bloodline abilities.

The lower tier represented average ordinary nobles, or the least talented nobles of the great houses.

The middle tier covered relatively talented ordinary nobles and average nobles of the great houses.

The upper tier comprised those on the level of an ordinary house's House Head, or the elites of a great house.

The top tier was the domain of the few truly powerful figures even among the great houses—people who, if still young, could be considered candidates to become the next House Head.

'And then there's one more beyond those.'

Within the largest building on the grounds, Turan saw a mass of light in human form. It was a concentration of such immense power that even the top-ranking noble in the adjacent building, whom he guessed to be Maysa, seemed small beside it.

That had to be Maysa's father, the strongest bearer of the Storm Bloodline and the House Head of Arabion: Badal Arabion.

'I don't think I'd be particularly surprised if that man turned out to be a Freyan.'

The mana of a great-house head, which he was observing directly for the first time, was immense enough to inspire such a thought. Could Maysa really accumulate that much power even if she lived for several more centuries? And what of Zahar's House Head, who had supposedly fought that monster as an equal?

Pondering those questions, Turan slowly surveyed the overall layout of Arabion's main house. The largest mansion at the very center seemed to be the House Head's residence, with Maysa's slightly smaller residence beside it. He could not be certain, since some buildings had no detectable occupants, perhaps because they were out on business, but it seemed that higher status earned one a residence closer to the center.

The relatively small houses contained only knights and commoners, so they were probably homes for knights and their families, or servants. Beka, whose identity he had stolen, had also said he was a knight's son. Most of the servants here were likely members of knights' families.

Passing a place where young knights trained hard with spirited shouts, he came within sight of the mansion belonging to the person he believed was Maysa. Standing right beside the House Head's main mansion, it was the second-largest building within the walls.

Yet the only presences he could sense within that enormous mansion were Maysa and five commoners. Compared with the other mansions, which held multiple knights and nobles and dozens of servants, it was a strangely small number.

He carefully checked for warning tools like the one Lida had used, but could sense no magic tools inside apart from those Maysa herself carried.

'Is this a trap?'

The security was so lax for the residence of Arabion's heir that the thought crossed his mind. Yet however he considered it, there was no reason for them to have laid a trap. He had left no signs or clues during his infiltration. Surely they were not keeping this up every day against some Zahar noble who might or might not arrive?

After a long deliberation, Turan cast stealth in the shadow of the mansion's wall and climbed over. Fortunately, no sudden alarm rang out, nor did dozens of nobles come rushing toward him.

'Made it.'

Letting out a sigh of relief, Turan took in the mansion grounds with his own eyes. The first thing he saw was a garden tangled with trees that had been left to grow wild.

Ivy covered the walls and windows, and many of the dozens of windows were broken or filthy. Had he not known people were inside, he would have assumed the mansion was abandoned.

The room he entered through a broken window was bare, without a single piece of furniture. Stepping out through its door, he found that every room nearby was in the same state. He could tell because all the doors stood wide open. Not a single tapestry or painting of the sort commonly used as decoration hung along the corridors or walls.

The maids gathered on the first floor were all older women in their fifties or sixties, looking as though they should have retired long ago. Listlessly attending to their separate tasks without exchanging a word, they offered him little chance to learn anything.

After watching them for some time as they half-idled over embroidery or books, Turan went upstairs to where Maysa was. He passed several empty rooms with wide-open doors, just like those below, before reaching the only room whose door was closed.

CREAK

He carefully opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. As expected, the furniture was shabby, dust-covered, and seemingly old.

In a corner of that dusty room, Maysa lay asleep beneath a blanket, her emaciated body curled up. If not for the splendid magic tools adorning her, she would have looked less like a great house's heir than a poor laborer's daughter. One who had gone hungry for months and was on the verge of death.

'This doesn't make sense any way I look at it... Living in such a run-down place, with this little protection?'

Under these circumstances, it was little wonder Maysa had become paranoid about assassins lurking around every corner. Even the Berg mansion seemed far better defended against assassination. Why on earth were they neglecting their heir like this?

Had Turan been a Zahar assassin, this would have been the perfect opportunity. Of course, the many magic tools protecting her would have made killing her in a single blow difficult.

Turan considered speaking to Maysa immediately, but decided against it in case someone was secretly watching. Although the Holy Relic's senses detected nothing, there might well be techniques in this world that could fool even it.

For now, it seemed best to use this mansion, with so few people for its size, as a base from which to observe the situation a little longer.

'Fortunately, they don't seem to have given much thought to what happens once a Zahar noble gets inside.'

Had magic lamps been densely installed throughout the grounds as well, he would have struggled to move about even at night. Apparently, they had not wanted to go that far. They disliked blinding light as much as anyone, and nights as bright as day would make it hard to sleep.

Of course, approaching the main mansion where the House Head resided would not be this easy. What Turan had in mind was investigating the residences of influential Arabion figures such as Kadram, whom he had met before. He should be able to eavesdrop on their conversations or secretly examine their internal documents.

Just as he began considering where to settle in an unused corner of the mansion, he sensed someone approaching from afar. A single wizard with upper-tier noble mana. Judging by the silhouette, the person appeared to be a woman. The moment she came close enough for Turan to discern her bloodline, his face hardened.

'This is...'

Entering the mansion, the wizard casually exchanged greetings with the other maids, then carried something she had brought up to Maysa's room on the second floor. She knocked with an ease that suggested she visited quite often.

KNOCK, KNOCK

"My lady, I've brought the books you asked for."

After a few seconds, she opened the door and entered. She gazed silently at Maysa, who was sound asleep, then placed several books on the desk beside her and left. Turan briefly examined the books she had put down, then immediately followed the unidentified upper-tier noble with care.

'Now who is this woman?'

Outwardly, she looked like nothing more than a maid in her early thirties. But she actually possessed upper-tier noble mana—and within her, he sensed Zahar's distinctive symbol of darkness and an eye.