Translator: Pai_

After the they returned, House Baltas widely announced this victory and held a banquet.

They distributed food and alcohol throughout the city, and within the castle, a grand feast was prepared so that the knights could enjoy themselves to their hearts’ content.

Turan thought that this was excessively extravagant and also a hasty decision.

Even if it was a one-in-a-million chance, wasn’t it possible that there could be other Magical Beasts blocking the city’s routes in addition to that monkey one?

When Turan brought this up at the banquet, Izela laughed, saying he worried too much.

“Come on now. Do you really think those kinds of creatures would show up two or three at a time? Honestly, even if they do, it’s not really a big deal.”

The logic was that the priority was to promote the fact that the blocked trade route had been cleared. Even if another Magical Beast attack occurred, they could simply say, “Oh, we didn’t know,” and send the subjugation squad again.

Would the ruler lose authority if they made a mistake or changed their words?

For a Wizard Lord, the support and trust of the people were nice to have but not essential.

Their dominance over humans wasn’t based on such invisible elements but on their overwhelming power, enough to burn everything to ashes should anyone dare to rebel.

“What are the protagonists of this subjugation doing in such a secluded corner?”

While the two were chatting, someone cut in with a meaningful comment.

It was Lug Baltas, who squinted at Turan and Izela alternately.

“Oh dear, Father. Don’t even get me started. Our guest worries so much that it’s becoming a problem.”

Hearing Izela’s words, Lug also burst into laughter, dismissing Turan’s concerns as excessive.

He said that creatures as strong as that Magical Beast only appeared once or twice a year at most.

Come to think of it, he wasn't wrong.

Typically, Magical Beasts appeared more frequently in fertile regions. If monsters that could instantly kill even knights had been roaming freely in this relatively remote area of the continent, how could Keorn have traveled alone?

What about other ordinary travelers?

As the conversation continued, Izela excused herself under the pretext of getting some food, leaving the table.

Now alone with Turan, Lug first offered the glass he was holding.

“More importantly, have a drink. If a host doesn’t offer a drink to his guest, that’s a disgrace.”

The Orem liquor was far stronger than the beer Turan had drunk at the inn in Murei City.

The burning sensation in his throat and the intense aroma that stung his nose made Turan cough involuntarily.

“Haha! You act like this is your first time drinking alcohol.”

“This is the first time I’ve had such strong liquor.”

Fortunately, thanks to the resilient body of a noble, Turan didn’t get drunk after just one or two glasses of strong liquor. He was able to keep up with Lug as his drinking companion.

After drinking about four glasses of the liquor that the passing servants handed out, Lug squinted and spoke.

“More importantly, what do you think about Izela?”

It was a question along similar lines to what Marvin had asked earlier in the day.

Without a change in expression, Turan calmly replied.

“I think of her as the young lady of the house that I am indebted to.”

“So, you have no romantic feelings for her?”

“To be honest, no, I don’t.”

At this almost rudely straightforward answer, Lug briefly frowned, but Turan didn’t apologize.

He hadn’t been particularly fond of Izela to begin with, and her behavior during the subjugation had only made his opinion of her worse.

He judged that it would be better to be direct than to leave any room for misunderstanding out of consideration for Lug’s dignity.

As expected, rather than getting angry and asking if Turan dared to dislike his daughter, Lug let out a deep sigh.

“Well, it can’t be helped. I had hoped you’d take a liking to my daughter.”

“There will be a better match for her.”

“In a remote area like this, where would you find a match as good as you? According to Izela, you didn’t even show any signs of struggling when you absorbed Magic Power this time.”

“Well, yes. I still have a long way to go.”

“I heard your amount of Magic Power isn’t much different from Izela’s. So, are you saying my daughter is lacking?”

Faced with Lug’s question, which was difficult to answer, Turan silently closed his mouth and looked at his counterpart.

At that moment, Lug spoke in a lamenting tone.

“Well, it’s not entirely wrong. Izela’s natural talent wasn’t bad, but her growth limit came much sooner than expected. She’s not adequate to maintain the position of the head of House Baltas. At this rate, Gillon… that is, my other nephew whom you haven’t met, will have to be named the next head. If Izela were to unite with you, however, that wouldn’t be necessary.”

Hearing this, Turan now understood why Marvin had been pleased when he said he wasn’t interested in Izela.

If Turan were to marry Izela, it would likely become a major obstacle to Marvin’s older brother becoming the head of the house.

What Turan couldn’t understand was Lug’s casual attitude in revealing such a private matter.

Could it be that someone of his stature as the head of a house was drunk?

That thought lasted only briefly. As Lug’s sharp, calculating eyes gauged him, Turan began to guess why Lug was sharing such lamentations.

Lug was likely hoping that Turan, upon hearing these circumstances, would have a change of heart.

Perhaps Lug wanted Turan to feel guilt or responsibility for rejecting Izela, thereby causing her to lose her chance at becoming the head of the house. Or perhaps he hoped Turan would be tempted by the ambition of marrying Izela and gaining this city.

Either way, Lug’s intent seemed clear: he wanted to exploit any angle that might work.

"I believe the head will make a wise decision."

It seemed that Lug realized from Turan’s answer that his intentions had been seen through and rejected. With that, Lug let out a deeper sigh than before.

“So that’s how it is. Well, I understand... then enjoy the banquet as you see fit. And make sure to let me know before you leave the city.”

At Lug’s blatant shift from a marriage proposal to outright asking when Turan would leave, Turan couldn’t help but let out a faint laugh.

It wasn’t anger at Lug’s overtly selfish attitude that prompted the laugh, but rather the sheer absurdity of it.

As Lug began to show signs of wanting to leave, Turan decided to ask one last question that had been on his mind.

Of course, he phrased it indirectly, rather than outright.

“Ah. There’s something I’ve been curious about.”

“What is it?”

Though Lug’s expression showed clear annoyance, Turan pretended not to notice and continued.

“While using the library, I began to wonder: doesn’t anyone check to see if someone might steal the books? Whether anyone is looking for them or not, they’re all quite valuable, aren’t they?”

“Hm? Do you not know? I thought you were aware, which is why you only read books within the library.”

When Lug responded with an enigmatic comment, Turan tilted his head, feigning ignorance. Lug’s expression turned smug.

It seemed that Lug wanted to regain a sense of superiority by flaunting his knowledge after being rejected by Turan earlier.

“The Sky Library was built during the old empire. If someone tries to take a book without permission, an enormous warning sound will ring out. Honestly, not telling people in advance and letting them embarrass themselves has been one of my little joys.”

“How does one obtain permission?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know! There haven’t been detailed records about the library since before our house took over this city. Anyway, even if you take a book out, the warning sound only rings for a bit and then stops. Besides, the library’s self-organizing function still works properly…”

As Turan listened to Lug’s explanation, his eyes lit up.

What had been a half-suspicion moments ago was now confirmed by Lug’s final remarks.

* * *

The next day, as he had the day before, Turan headed straight to the library after finishing his breakfast.

“Welcome, your grace.”

The knight at the entrance, who had become familiar with Turan’s face, let him in without even checking his entry pass.

As Turan entered the first-floor lobby, the middle-aged librarian sitting at his usual desk greeted him warmly.

“Welcome, Sir Turan.”

Hearing this greeting, Turan realized anew how oblivious he had been and let out a hollow laugh.

Come to think of it, the clues had been there from the start.

First, there was the way he was addressed as 'Sir Turan'.

No knight or commoner in this city had ever addressed him in such a manner.

They had only referred to him as 'Your Grace'.

Moreover, there was the fact that the librarian had been watching him the entire time he was reading.

Turan's reading pattern was to wake up early, eat breakfast and come in, only leaving when it was time for dinner.

Yet during all that time, the librarian never left his post, not to use the restroom, eat, or even drink water, and simply observed Turan.

This wasn’t an impossible feat for a regular person, but it was an extremely peculiar detail.

However, Turan had been so engrossed in his books that he hadn’t noticed any of this.

"How did you know my name?"

At his question, the librarian’s humble expression shifted into something more mischievous, like that of a prankster.

“You’re just now realizing? You’re a slow one, aren’t you? Did you not ask anyone outside about me?”

“I didn’t have anyone to talk to in this city who I could have that kind of conversation with.”

“You’re quite the loner, it seems. I noticed that when you spent all your time buried in books.”

In an instant, the dynamic of the conversation flipped, but it didn’t feel awkward at all.

The librarian chuckled, then casually tossed the book he had been reading into its proper place on the shelf.

“I saw your name on your entry pass. My sight reaches the area around the library, after all.”

“How should I address you, sir?”

“I’m just the librarian. I’ve never had a name to begin with, so just call me that.”

"I understand, Elder Librarian."

“It’s strange to see you being so polite. You’ve been bossing me around for days, making all sorts of demands.”

“I never bossed you around. If anything, you’re the one doing that right now.”

“Cheeky brat! Always trying to get the last word in!”

Despite his grumbling, the librarian’s expression was full of amusement, as if he was thoroughly enjoying the banter.

Turan, seated across from the librarian, decided to press further about the librarian’s identity.

“Are you a Wizard from the old empire, sir?"

"I wasn't human to begin with. You could say I'm a kind of spirit. The spirit of the library."

"If you're a spirit..."

None of the books Turan had read contained detailed information about such beings.

The most he had come across was a brief mention in Journey Around the World, where it described forest-dwelling faeries using a technique called spirit arts to interact with living spirits, elemental spirits, and undead spirits. But that was the extent of it.

Recognizing Turan’s limited knowledge, the librarian explained further.

“When a soul resides in something living, it becomes a living spirit. When it resides in something dead, it’s an undead spirit. And when it resides in something neither alive nor dead, it becomes an elemental spirit. In other words, the library is essentially my body. This form you see is merely a projection for convenience when interacting with users. Think of it as a shadow reflected on water.”

Hearing this, Turan unconsciously reached out and poked the back of the librarian’s hand resting on the table.

Sure enough, his finger passed right through it, as though touching nothing, and hit the table beneath.

The librarian frowned slightly at this.

“Stop that. It’s unpleasant.”

“My apologies.”

Turan quickly withdrew his hand and apologized, which softened the librarian’s expression.

“You have no idea how frustrating it is to be unable to use force directly against intruders. If I could, I would’ve punished every single thief who tried to steal books from this library…”

Turan now understood why so many books had disappeared despite the presence of such a being. It seemed that the librarian couldn’t exert physical power over people.

Perhaps it was limited to moving books or cleaning the interior of the library.

Nodding in understanding, Turan asked something that had been on his mind.

“The head of House Baltas doesn’t seem to know about your existence, Librarian. In fact, it seems that no one who has used this library does.”

“That’s because no one has possessed the qualifications to perceive me. The last time I spoke to someone was about three thousand years ago. Even though you ‘Wizards’ live quite a long time, it’s been so long that not even records of me remain… Wizards, huh. Hah.”

For some reason, the librarian let out a hollow laugh, as if he couldn’t contain his amusement at the word 'Wizard'.

At such an absurd reaction, Turan stared at him in disbelief.

Had this spirit really pretended to be a mere servant of House Baltas and played games with him, even after encountering someone he could finally speak with for the first time in three thousand years?

What if Turan had lost interest in the books and stopped coming?

When he asked this, the librarian snorted dismissively.

“Well, then that would’ve been the end of it. Unlike you humans, three thousand years isn’t such an unfathomable span of time for me. If I wait another few thousand years, won’t someone else eventually show up?”

Hearing this, Turan felt the reality sink in, this spirit was truly a being entirely different from humans.

After all, rocks and rivers don’t grow bored over the course of thousands of years, do they?

Shaking his head in exasperation, Turan asked another question.

“What do you mean by ‘qualifications’?”

“My creator set it so that only those whose type reached a certain level of completeness could perceive me. And you happen to be the most complete Wizard I’ve encountered in the past three thousand years.”

“Type...?”

“It’s what you people refer to as a bloodline.”

A high degree of bloodline completeness? What could that possibly mean?

As he mulled this over, Turan suddenly recalled something Keorn had once told him.

Wizards are descendants of the gods, and bloodline abilities are traits inherited from their ancestors, the Preah God Tribe...

In other words, this spirit was saying that among all the Wizards it had seen over the last three thousand years, Turan was the closest to being a divine existence.