Chapter 86

As they left the snowy plains and moved eastward, Turan first checked the librarian’s exact condition.

He was concerned because the librarian had mentioned feeling weakened, possibly due to being far from the library.

Of course, since they had neither the ability to handle spirits nor knowledge about them, their methods were bound to be crude.

After repeatedly conducting primitive experiments by placing the librarian into and out of the jewel box several times, they reached a simple conclusion.

The librarian had now become a spirit completely bound to the jewel box, and in the process, had lost most of the authority it could use when previously connected to the library.

For example, the ability to identify bloodlines, which had been used in the past, was among the lost powers.

“It is unfortunate that I am no longer of help.”

The librarian spoke in their usual indifferent and monotonous manner, but they averted their gaze slightly, subtly displaying a hint of guilt.

Turan smiled and reassured the librarian.

“It is fine. I have already received a great deal of help from you before.”

Of course, that did not mean the librarian had become useless.

The records of all the books that once existed in Orem’s library still remained intact.

“So, among the unknown bloodlines of the Silver Sun, two of them were the Guardian and the Healer?”

“Most likely. According to the records, he often referred to himself as a ‘Protector’, and there are accounts of wounds healing when he placed his hand on the injured.”

Sitting on the swing that Bije was pulling, Turan analyzed the bloodlines of the ancient gods along with the librarian, who was seated in midair across from him.

As he repeated the librarian’s words so that the others could hear, Solif, who was sitting beside him, whistled.

“I have never come across such stories myself. I’ve always been interested in history, so I’ve searched through all the records kept within our family’s library, but I never found anything like this.”

“In that case, it was likely concealed on purpose. To eliminate clues that could help complete the type, or what you call bloodlines."

It was not hard to guess why.

The nobles must have feared that someone would attempt to reconstruct the god’s bloodline on their own.

The relatively well-known Night Hunter bloodline was no longer a concern since two of its components had already perished.

"So the Silver Sun's bloodlines are Sun, which combines Pyromaniac and Illusionist, plus Guardian and Healer... Solif, do you have any relatives with those two bloodlines?"

“I don’t think so. My grandfather was a noble of the Sun bloodline, and my grandmother was a commoner concubine. On my mother’s side, my grandfather had the Earthmover bloodline, and my grandmother had the Sun bloodline. I don’t know much beyond that.”

“That does make it somewhat ambiguous.”

There was a possibility that a variable existed on his grandmother’s side, as in Turan’s case, but otherwise, he seemed to be far removed from the Silver Sun’s bloodline.

Had they tried to replace the Guardian and Healer bloodlines with the power of a god’s soul?

At that moment, Meisa, who had been quietly listening, spoke in a low voice.

“In comparison, my side is a bit clearer. My father has the Storm and Fighter bloodlines, while my mother has the Enchanter bloodline.”

“The bloodline of the Storm that governs lightning is called-”

“Thunder Master. It is a name forgotten in modern times.”

Hearing the librarian’s quiet explanation, Turan took out a small notebook and a piece of charcoal and began writing.

[Silver Sun = Pyromaniac + Illusionist + Guardian + Healer]

[Thunder Lord = Thunder Master + Airbender + Enchanter + Fighter]

[Night Hunter = Chaser + Hunter + Shadow + Alchemist]

[Wrath of Frost = Berserker + Frost…]

He also noted down the Earth Mother Goddess, whom the Earthmover bloodline revered as their progenitor, and the Lame Goddess, the ancestor of the Enchanter bloodline, making for quite a lengthy list.

Solif pointed at the part where Thunder Lord was written and commented.

“At this rate, Meisa could end up acquiring all four of a god’s bloodlines on her own. That is, assuming she undergoes additional awakenings like Turan.”

“No way.”

"Well, you never know. Both you and I are bodies chosen by the gods... damn, why don't I have anything like this?"

Solif’s words started as praise but ended in self-deprecating grumbling. Meisa shook her head and looked at Turan.

“It’s just a slim possibility anyway. If you look at it that way, Turan has the advantage. You already have four bloodlines guaranteed.”

“Well, I have a feeling that the combination is just as important as the number of bloodlines, so I’m not sure.”

From what they had investigated so far, no other member of the Preah God Tribe had the same bloodline combination as Turan.

They still didn't know whether this combination was possible because he had a god's soul, or if it was related to obtaining all four bloodlines.

Next, Turan intended to write down the name of the biologist, but he reconsidered. Writing it down might attract just as much attention as speaking it aloud. Instead, he wrote down the owner of the sacred relic he possessed.

[Drowned God = Wave Rider + Mimic + ? + ?]

Seeing this, Meisa pointed at the words "Wave Rider" and asked,

“Is this referring to the Rapids bloodline?”

“Probably not. From what I heard from the Gate of the Labyrinth before, one of the characteristics of the Wave Rider bloodline was exceptional physical abilities.”

In contrast, the Rapids bloodline, which controlled water and other fluids, was not particularly suited for hand-to-hand combat.

Solif, who had previously gathered similar information during his independent investigations, had sought out nobles of pirate lineage with exceptional physical abilities, such as Tasan from the Red Whale Pirates.

“Do you know anything about this, Elder?”

At Turan’s question, the librarian hesitated for a moment before shaking their head.

“I know nothing about it. The only knowledge I have comes from books that have entered the library.”

It seemed that records of that god had never made their way to Orem City.

Clicking his tongue in disappointment, Turan continued organizing the god’s bloodlines. Then, a thought suddenly crossed his mind, and he voiced it.

“By the way, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, aren’t the names of the bloodlines all over the place?”

“What do you mean?”

“Even among great houses, some bloodlines are named by combining two, like Storm or Sun, while others remain separate. Some bloodline names describe a phenomenon, while others refer to the people who wield them…”

The Sun bloodline, composed of Pyromaniac and Illusionist, was a prime example.

The former referred to a person who enjoyed setting fires, whereas the latter did not describe a person but rather the ability itself.

When Turan first learned about this from Keorn, he had asked about it, but the old knight had simply replied that he had learned it that way and did not know the origins of the names.

Hearing this, Meisa and Solif exchanged glances, their expressions indicating that they, too, found it difficult to understand.

“Is that… so?”

“I just thought that’s how they were called and never questioned it.”

Unlike Turan, the two of them did not seem to find the naming conventions particularly odd.

As he tilted his head in slight confusion, the librarian provided a brief explanation.

“There were times when Pyromaniac was called the Flame bloodline, and Illusionist was referred to as the Illusion Master bloodline. However, I do not know how certain names became established… Hmm, I should go back soon. I am getting tired.”

With that, the librarian yawned lightly and, before anyone could respond, turned into smoke and seeped into the jewel box.

This was another change that had occurred after the librarian became bound to the jewel box, if it stayed outside for too long, it would feel fatigued.

Gazing at the spot where the librarian had disappeared, Turan then lifted his head and looked at Bije, who was flying above.

Not only had her wingbeats grown weaker, but a deep sense of exhaustion was also transmitted through the soul bond.

“We should also descend and rest soon. We’ve long since left the House Nagin’s territory, so it should be safe here.”

*

After landing on a small hill in the northern Takein Plains, Bije, completely exhausted, collapsed into a deep sleep, nearly passing out.

It was understandable, given how grueling their journey had been.

She had flown for several hours to reach Orem City, rested for only half a day, then immediately flew north for another day and a half. After a brief rest, she had flown nonstop for an entire day.

And it was not as if she had been flying alone, she had carried a large metal swing and three people with her the entire time.

If Bije had not possessed magic power on par with a high-ranking noble, and if Turan and Meisa had not taken turns assisting her flight with wind magic, such a feat would have been impossible.

After setting up camp and spending the night, Turan's group took turns carrying the completely exhausted Bije as they traveled eastward on foot.

Fortunately, thanks to Tracking Magic, they were able to avoid any traces of people, preventing any unwanted encounters.

After two days of feeding Bije good meals and allowing her to rest, she fully recovered. Instead of immediately boarding the swing, Turan tied a letter to Bije’s ankle and sent her off.

An hour later, she returned with a new letter tied to her ankle.

[I'm just living as usual, watching plays and such. Are you all doing well? It’s a bit lonely being by myself…]

The letter detailed everything that had happened on Ashiz’s end and ended with a note expressing a longing to see them again.

After reading it and folding the letter, Turan summarized it in one sentence for those waiting.

“Ashiz seems to be doing well.”

Before leaving, Turan and Ashiz had exchanged a cipher for their letters in case they needed to communicate secretly.

The mention of "play" in the first paragraph indicated that the letter had not been written under surveillance.

“Bije, did you follow the plan I told you?”

[Yes! I made a big loop before meeting Ashiz! And when I left, too!]

Although Bije had been sent out at dusk to avoid attention, it would still be troublesome if someone saw her and deduced her movements.

To prevent this, Turan had instructed Bije not to fly directly to House Berk but instead take a wide detour, making it appear as though she had arrived from the south.

Likewise, on the return journey, she first flew south before looping around and heading back north.

Given how fast Bije could fly without carrying anything, no one would dare try to follow them.

“That’s a relief…”

“Hearing he’s doing well makes me happy. I’d love to visit again for a drink. I liked the food there too.”

Not only Meisa, who was a close relative, but Solif also showed signs of relief upon confirming this.

Having stayed with House Berk for a considerable time and receiving their hospitality, it was only natural that some attachment had formed.

After another half-day of flight aboard Bije, they finally left Aravion’s territory.

“Phew…”

Meisa let out a sigh of relief as she watched the Takein Plains fade into the distance behind them.

Although she had not openly shown it, she seemed to have felt considerable pressure staying within Aravion’s domain.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I feel much more at ease now. It felt like something was pressing down on my chest the whole time we were there.”

That oppressive feeling likely stemmed from the presence of House Aravion, which had weighed on her for years, and from her father, Badal, who was the vessel of the Thunder Lord.

Solif interjected with a skeptical remark.

“But should we really be feeling relieved? I heard that over in Carmine’s territory, there’s a god who’s aligned with non-humans.”

“For now, they don’t have any conflicting interests with us. I can’t be sure, but they might even become potential allies.”

Based on his past encounter with the merfolk prince Armania, merfolk seemed to be more reasonable than dark elves or dwarves.

Moreover, since Carmine’s god likely had no knowledge of their existence, there was little reason for immediate concern.

Hearing Turan’s reasoning, Solif let out a small hum of acknowledgment and nodded.

As they continued traveling and conversing for about an hour, Turan suddenly recognized the surrounding landscape.

As the sun began to set, he turned to the others and said,

“Let’s rest in that village over there tonight.”

“Already? I think we can keep going a bit longer.”

“I’m in favor. Bije hasn’t fully recovered from overexerting herself yet, and honestly, I’d like to eat something nice and sleep in a real bed.”

Although Meisa seemed eager to put more distance between herself and the Takein Plains, she nodded in agreement after hearing Solif’s reasoning.

Since she was still relying on Turan to provide food, it was difficult for Meisa to ignore her companion’s request for a proper meal.

Otherwise, it might seem as though she was indifferent because she did not eat in the first place.

A short while later, they entered a hilltop village nestled in the hilly terrain.

A man, seemingly returning from farm work, trudged along with a hoe in hand. Upon spotting Turan’s group, he approached them.

“You’re unfamiliar faces. Where did you come fr-oh!”

Initially wary of strangers, the man’s expression shifted dramatically when he saw Turan’s face. His eyes widened in shock, and he dropped his hoe before falling to his knees.

Solif and Meisa turned to Turan and asked,

“What did you do here to get that reaction?”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Kill? If anything, I saved people. I came to check on a child I entrusted to this place.”

“A-Ah… O-Of course! She’s doing very well, sir!”

“Take me to her.”

This village was the very place where Turan had left the sole survivor of a settlement destroyed by the Pyro Executioner, Ovil.

Soon after, Turan reunited with the young girl for the first time in a year.

“Th-Thank you for saving me…”

“No one in the village has been bothering you, have they?”

“Not at all. Everyone treats me very well!”

Fortunately, there was no trace of fear or distress in her voice or scent that suggested she had been threatened.

There were no visible signs of mistreatment either.

Her hands were a bit rough, but that was to be expected, she had to learn how to work if she was going to survive as a commoner.

After confirming her well-being, Turan called over the anxious village chief and placed a few gold coins directly into his hand.

“Oh my, this is too generous…”

“This is payment for spending the night here.”

Of course, the village chief was not foolish enough to believe that this was merely a lodging fee and not also a reward for following Turan’s instructions faithfully.

They were given the best house in the village to stay in, and as they settled in, Turan explained to the others what had happened in this area in the past.

Since they had already heard about Ovil before, both of them were surprised to realize this was the same place.

“You’re probably the only person who would actually come back after saying you would. If it were me, I would’ve long forgotten and just moved on.”

“If I say I’ll do something, I keep my word.”

“You have a surprisingly kind side at times.”

Hearing Meisa’s comment, accompanied by a smile, made Turan feel uncomfortable, and he turned his head away.

It reminded him of the same uneasy feeling he had when Keorn had once called him a good person.

“It was just something that had to be done.”

His decision to look after the girl left in this village was purely out of responsibility.

Even if it had only been for a brief moment, she had been under his protection, which meant she was one of the lambs he had to shepherd.

Turan felt a similar sense of responsibility toward the citizens of Kalamaf and the people he had saved from the southern islands.

He wanted to check on their well-being and, if any issues arose, he was prepared to exact vengeance.

Solif sighed and shook his head, exasperated.

“No matter how much time passes, I still can’t figure you out. On one hand, you’re utterly ruthless, and on the other, you’re ridiculously soft…”

“Well, either way, we both ended up benefiting from it, didn’t we?”

“I mean… yeah, that’s true.”

Meisa spoke with a distant look in her eyes, and Solif, seeing no point in arguing further, simply raised his hands in surrender.

*

After spending a night in the village, Turan’s group did not head directly north to the North Sea. Instead, they moved in a zigzag pattern, sweeping through the hilly terrain between House Aravion and House Carmine.

This was because the librarian had once mentioned that records existed of a mythical-grade Magical Beast that had gone missing in this area approximately 500 years ago.

However, contrary to their expectations, the Magical Beasts they encountered during their search were all too weak to even be worth capturing.

After several days of wandering, only eliminating the overly aggressive creatures, Solif finally suggested giving up.

“Well, if you think about it, it makes sense. If something that strong had been living here all this time, it would have been hunted down ages ago. Unless, of course, it’s being raised here like that monkey…”

“Wait.”

Cutting off Solif’s words, Turan closed his eyes and focused on his sense of smell.

Meisa, watching him, asked,

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a strange smell… Something’s burning.”

A sharp, acrid scent of burning reached the tip of his nose, triggering a strange sense of familiarity.

The stench was so intense that it felt as if a wildfire had broken out.

And then, a memory surfaced, of when he had come across the aftermath of the Pyro Executioner Ovil’s rampage.

“Bije, that way!”

Normally, Turan adhered to the principle of not letting people see him riding Bije, but this time, he broke the rule and immediately directed her toward the source of the smell.

Moments later, they arrived at the scene, where the crackling of flames and desperate screams filled the air.

“Help us! Please, help us-!”

“Please! Please, stop!”

A small slash-and-burn farming village deep within the forest.

The people, likely having lived in isolation, were tied to stakes, burning one by one as they awaited their turn.

And in the center of the village square stood a woman with her arms spread wide, letting the ashes fall onto her.

Though her back was turned, Turan could already guess who she was.

Leaping off the swing, he immediately called out her name.

“Visen.”

“Who’s calling me…? Oh, Turan-nim?”

The leader of the group of young noble hunters who had once hunted Ovil alongside him, Visen Carmine, turned to face him.

Her eyes gleamed with an eerily clear light.