Chapter 9

According to what Turan had learned from his mother, marriage between a man and a woman was truly sacred: a ceremony in which they swore, in the name of the gods, to love each other until the day they died. When he stared blankly at her for bringing up something so important out of nowhere, Izella burst into laughter and waved a hand.

"What's with that reaction? It was just a joke!"

"My lady, please..."

"All right. But do at least give it some thought! The place beside me is vacant, after all!"

With that, Izella swept away down the corridor. The butler, wearily wiping his forehead and apologizing over and over for her behavior, looked as though he had aged ten years in an instant.

A short while later, Turan passed through the largest and grandest doors in the castle. Beyond lay a study filled with taxidermied monsters, antique furniture, and lavish ornaments. Seated in a chair at its center was Rug Valtas, House Head of Valtas and lord of Orem.

"Welcome, young noble. I trust you already know my name?"

"My name is Turan."

A man and a woman, both wearing swords, stood respectfully behind the House Head of Valtas. Judging by their bearing, they seemed to be knights guarding him—though Turan wondered what use mere knightly guards could be to a noble powerful enough to head a house. Rug responded to his introduction with an interested expression.

"Turan, is it? Nothing more?"

"There is a house hostile to mine, so I cannot readily disclose it."

"Hmm. Which recent disputes have been serious enough to warrant that? Hadit and Corel, Ire and Kelau, Arabion and Zahar—"

The moment he heard Arabion and Zahar mentioned, Turan concentrated on keeping his agitation from showing on his face. Rug went on listing several houses, but when he received no reaction at all, he gave a bored snort.

"Well, we have no hostile houses at present, in any case. But should someone of Valtas blood come under your protection in the future, I trust you will treat them as we have treated you."

"You have my word."

Thus, a noble's hospitality toward another noble was a pledge of mutual respect and nonaggression. To enter another house's territory and refuse its hospitality was tantamount to declaring to its ruler, "I am not your guest. I have come with ill intent." This was in keeping with the customs of hospitality Turan had learned from his mother.

"So, you wish to use the library? What for?"

"My upbringing was unusual, and there is much I do not know. I would like to learn about the world through books."

Rug snorted at that.

"Quite a few people come here after hearing strange rumors, so let me make this clear: the library has no spectacular ancient magic or secret methods for increasing your mana."

"That is quite all right. I never hoped to find anything of the sort."

Turan made it clear that he did not mind in the slightest. He truly wanted nothing more than to learn the things he had missed by spending his entire life on a hill. After staring at him for a while, Rug shook his head.

"If that is what you want, there is no reason not to admit you. There are no secrets concerning our house in there anyway. It is getting late, so rest today and visit tomorrow. Will that do?"

"I will not forget your kindness, House Head."

"Yes, I trust you won't."

As Rug nodded and looked at him, a meaningful smile formed on his lips.

* * *

The next day, Turan left the castle and headed to the library with a knight of Valtas. The guard at the entrance—not the same one as yesterday—nodded after inspecting the paper bearing the House Head's signature.

"Your pass is in order, noble sir. Welcome to the Sky Library."

The first things to greet Turan inside were a few desks and chairs, and a spiral staircase running along the curved wall. Despite the absence of windows, white light from a sphere in the ceiling brightly illuminated the room. As he went farther in, a middle-aged man sitting at one of the desks greeted him.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Turan. I am the librarian here. At the House Head's instruction, I will explain the rules for using this library."

The Sky Library's rules were not particularly complicated. First, anyone who damaged the library's books or furnishings had to pay compensation at the value set by the house. Second, no books could be taken out of the library. To Turan, it sounded like a list of things one obviously should not do.

"Additionally, I must remain behind you at all times while you use the library, to watch for any breaches of the rules."

No sooner had the librarian finished explaining than Turan headed straight up the stairs. On the second floor, he found bookcases in the central space, filled with hundreds of books.

"Oh..."

Midan's claim that there were thousands of books seemed, if anything, an understatement. Given the building's height, it would hardly have been surprising if it held tens of thousands.

But after climbing another three or four floors, he began to find many of the shelves empty. From around the tenth floor onward, there was not a single book. When the librarian following him said there were none farther up, Turan returned to the second floor.

"There seem to be rather few books for a library this size."

"This library was built in the days of the old empire. War has seen Orem change hands many times, and many books were lost in the process."

The old empire. His mother had mentioned it in passing a few times. Hadn't she said it was a nation the Freyans founded in distant antiquity after defeating the other races and conquering the world? But after the gods ascended, their descendants, the nobles, turned against one another. The empire collapsed, leaving the world divided among a multitude of wizard houses as it was today. As he examined the tightly packed books on the second floor, Turan turned toward the librarian behind him.

"As the librarian, I take it you've read the books here."

"Yes. Finding the books our patrons need is also part of my work."

"Which books would you recommend for someone seeking basic general knowledge?"

Turan chose his words carefully, mindful that everything he said here might be reported to the House Head. The librarian tilted his head for a moment, then began pulling books from various shelves. After several trips to the upper floors, he set more than a dozen volumes on a desk on the ground floor.

"Many of our books are hundreds or even thousands of years old, and so are unsuitable for your purposes, noble sir. I believe these should prove more useful."

"Thank you."

After thanking him, Turan sat down and picked up a book, examining it from every angle. Its cover was thick cowhide, its pages neatly cut parchment, filled with densely packed letters that looked as though a craftsman had painstakingly inscribed each one. The object felt like a work of art in its own right.

'So this is a book...'

Turan opened it with mixed feelings at how easily he had obtained something his mother had wanted so badly. Having learned to read and write by scratching in the sand with twigs, he stumbled a little, but could read well enough.

The book was titled 'An Account of a Journey Around the World.' After a preface praising its patron, someone Turan did not know, the story proper began. The author was a noble born in a small city north of Orem who had set out eastward, hoping to see the end of the world.

The stories in the book utterly enthralled Turan. A passage through a mountain range that parted to either side only once a day, and the Blind Dwarves who lived hidden there, devouring travelers. A desert of endless sand that boiled by day and froze by night. Fairies in dense jungles, seas of ceaseless waves, and mermaids singing on reefs to lure people toward them...

The ability to describe places he had never once seen so vividly that they felt not merely real but chilling was nothing short of magic. Around halfway through the book, Turan felt hungry. He noted where he had stopped, then closed it.

'Incredible.'

Now he knew what strange landscapes lay to the east, and even what the other races, whose names he had only vaguely heard before, looked like and how they lived. If reading just half a book had taught him this much, what would he learn by reading all of them? His heart raced with anticipation.

* * *

After receiving permission to use the library, Turan settled into a routine of reading there every morning and returning to the castle only when evening came.

On the second day, he learned how wizard houses, from the great houses to ordinary ones, dealt with one another and what systems they used to govern towns and cities.

On the third day, he learned in detail how objects he had passed by without a thought were made: what materials they used, which regions those materials came from, and how they were processed.

On the fourth day, a monster compendium taught him what powers monsters tended to develop depending on their species, and which physical traits signified which powers.

On the fifth day, he learned that many relics of the old empire still survived, scattered across the world. The library itself was one, as was the stone road he had seen on his way to Orem.

With each new piece of knowledge, the world, once nothing but an unknown expanse, grew clearer. He felt as though he were evolving from an ignorant shepherd boy into something a little better... It lacked the visceral pleasure of eating delicious food or gaining mana, but brought a separate satisfaction of the mind.

Then came the sixth day. On his way to the library, Turan received a summons from Rug. The moment Turan reached his study, Rug got straight to the point.

"I hear you've been making excellent use of the library."

"Yes."

"I trust you understand that granting you access to the library was a favor, quite apart from the hospitality I owe you as a noble. I would like something in return now."

"Please, go ahead."

If Turan kept accepting what he was offered but refused to do anything in return, wouldn't his host soon tell him to get out? By custom, nobles generally entertained visitors to their territories for three or four days. Since Turan had now exceeded that, he needed to grant Rug's request.

"A monster recently appeared north of Orem. It has been attacking travelers."

"You want me to hunt it?"

Rug nodded at his question.

"Four knights went out to kill it and never returned. It ate them. Nobles will have to deal with it personally, but our house can only spare two. With you joining them to make three, it would be much safer."

House Valtas had six members in all: Rug and his wife, his younger brother, his daughter, and two nephews. His brother and one nephew were away ruling cities other than Orem, while Rug himself had to protect this city against unforeseen trouble, and his wife was not skilled in combat. That left only his daughter and the other nephew available.

"Understood."

He agreed readily, partly because he had gained neither combat experience nor mana lately, spending his days reading instead of going out, and partly because he remembered what Keorn had once told him. Monsters were forever threatening the places humans called home, and so wizards had to defeat them...

The commoners of Orem were not Turan's sheep, but everything he ate, drank, and wore must have come from them. In exchange for living off a sheep's wool and flesh, a shepherd had to protect it from wolves.

Yet scarcely had he nodded before a question occurred to him. From what the official in Murei had said, neither nobles nor knights were particularly eager to hunt monsters. Why, then, was Rug being so proactive? When Turan asked indirectly, Rug answered.

"Because the northern road it is blocking is an important trade route. It has already been closed for ten days. We need it cleared quickly."

Ten days... Turan recalled Rug's meaningful smile five days earlier, when he had asked to use the library. Now that he finally understood why Rug had granted permission so readily, he actually felt more at ease.