Translator: Pai_

Turan was born into the House Zahar, also known as the bloodline of 'Trackers' or 'Hunters'.

The most notable characteristics of this bloodline are an exceptional sense of smell, quick reflexes, and the ability to use tracking and Concealment magic more easily than others.

Among these, their Concealment ability was particularly powerful, it didn’t simply make them invisible, but also allowed them to completely escape all perceptive abilities of living beings.

However, the House Zahar, while considered one of the stronger houses, was far from being invincible.

Even in their war with the House Arabion, to which Keorn belonged, they may have held a slight advantage, but they failed to secure victory.

So how could Turan, who wasn’t even a direct descendant but born between a knight and a commoner, be so special?

“Could you perhaps tell me more about my bloodline?”

“Why don’t you ask your parents about that?”

“I’m an orphan.”

“Is that so?”

If he had been a human, the response would have likely been something along the lines of, 'oh, that's unfortunate,' with at least some meaningless consolation. However, the spirit simply accepted the statement indifferently and moved on.

Turan didn’t particularly expect sympathy, so it didn’t matter to him.

“Hmm, then shall I check it for you? All you need to do is consent to me examining your body.”

“Yes.”

Upon receiving his consent, the librarian immediately plunged his finger deep into Turan’s chest.

Naturally, being an illusion, there was no pain.

With his eyes closed, as though observing something, the librarian's expression shifted in various ways until he finally exclaimed.

"There are some minor ones, but the major one is tracker, hunter. This must be the characteristic of the House Zahar, correct? Those who live in the desert?”

“Yes.”

Since the other party had no means of leaking such information elsewhere, Turan simply confirmed the truth.

However, after discovering this, the librarian appeared to examine something further, eventually letting out another exclamation.

“Hmm? Oh-ho… there’s another one! It’s mixed!”

“Mixed? What do you mean?”

“It means the power you possess is the result of two bloodlines being combined. You know what that means, right? There’s related content in the book I recommended to you as well.”

At those words, Turan recalled the book he had read on the second day, the one about wizard families.

Indeed, there had been related content in it.

Bloodline Fusion.

The bloodline abilities possessed by nobles are typically either fully inherited by their descendants or diluted. However, in rare cases, they can grow even stronger.

This occurs when the abilities of parents with different bloodlines are combined, manifesting into a more diverse and powerful force.

For example, a bloodline that controls water and a bloodline that controls ice could give rise to a bloodline that controls both water and ice. Or, a bloodline that heals wounds and a bloodline that cures diseases could create a bloodline capable of healing both wounds and diseases.

Houses that became founding houses after gaining strong powers through the combination of multiple bloodlines were called great houses.

“Then what is the other one?”

“That, I do not know. It is still sealed. It will likely be revealed as you grow stronger in the future.”

The librarian explained that this type of “sealed bloodline” was one of the symptoms that occurred in the first generation of newly fused bloodlines.

In other words, it was certain that half of Turan’s power came from his mother’s side.

'Mother...'

In Turan’s memory, his mother had always been gentle and elegant, yet there was a constant weariness etched into her demeanor.

Without a husband, she had to manage shepherding, a task even sturdy men would struggle with, while also raising a young children. It was inevitable for her to appear tired.

No matter how he thought about it, it didn’t seem likely that she had been a wizard.

However, when he thought back again, she had been unusually polite and knowledgeable for a mere commoner.

The area around Hisaril Hill, where Turan lived, was no exception. Even in cities like this one, the privilege of freely reading fairy tales was limited to certain classes of people.

Perhaps Turan's mother was a descendant of some noble family.

A bloodline so diluted that she couldn’t even possess magic power equivalent to that of a knight.

After a long time spent organizing his thoughts, Turan finally swept his face with both hands and said,

“Alright, I think I roughly understand. Thank you.”

One of the purposes Turan had when he set out on his journey was to trace the traces of his parents.

Why his father, whom his mother always referred to as a good man, didn’t live with his family; who his father was, where he might be and why his mother had to flee with Turan to the westernmost edge of the world.

The knowledge Turan had gained this time gave him even stronger motivation.

The answer was likely to be found in the land of the House Zahar, the Enril Desert, which made up half of Turan’s bloodline.

* * *

After learning the true identity of the library spirit, Turan didn’t merely bury himself in reading alone anymore. Instead, he began to ask the spirit about the contents of the books and requested explanations.

Above all, the librarian had knowledge of the books that had been plundered and lost over thousands of years. Since these books were entirely gone, the laws of nature that the librarian taught verbally were treasures in themselves.

“There are that many invisible tiny substances?”

“Yes. If you suspend water in the air and form it in this shape, then look closely, you’ll be able to see it for yourself.”

Following the librarian’s instructions, Turan created a droplet of water in a peculiar shape and brought it close to his eyes. To his surprise, objects appeared magnified several to dozens of times.

Through the ensuing explanations, Turan came to understand that various diseases originated from these microorganisms and that the decay of organisms is due to the feeding of such bacteria.

And that wasn’t all.

The refraction of light, the generation of heat through friction, the principles behind how living beings get injured and recover...

Many of these concepts were related to the principles of magic Turan had learned from Keorn.

For instance, previously, he had only known that Lightning magic was easier to use when there were heavy clouds. But now, he understood why that was the case.

While there were some fields that even the librarian didn’t fully understand or could only explain superficially, even that was enough to completely change Turan’s perception of the world.

Moreover, this knowledge didn’t just stop at understanding, it had practical applications.

"Then, I'll experiment with decay first."

As Turan tapped an apple he had brought from outside with his finger, it began to rot rapidly in no time.

It was as if time had been sped up by several hundred times.

"How is it?"

"It's amazing..."

This type of magic wasn’t entirely impossible before, but the effectiveness and magic power consumption had been disastrously inefficient.

Now, however, that was no longer the case.

By simply understanding the principle of decay, Turan could accomplish this with far less magic power.

Just by altering the way he perceived the world, his magical prowess had improved.

It was as if he had instantly "mastered" such magic.

Turan suddenly chuckled at a thought that came to mind.

“Lug Baltas was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?”

“He said there were no amazing ancient spells or secret techniques to enhance magic power in this library.”

While it was true that the librarian didn’t possess such specific knowledge, these natural laws were far more valuable than any secret technique.

Turan wondered if some of the powerful houses were monopolizing this knowledge. After all, if all wizards were aware of it, it would reduce their competitive edge.

The librarian agreed with the thought.

“The more time passes, the more it feels like people’s level of knowledge has only declined. If what you say is true, then that would explain quite a lot.”

The natural laws that the librarian taught Turan were said to come from books written during the days of the old empire, back when the Preah God Tribe still existed.

After the fall of the empire, books of this kind became exceedingly rare.

“Now that I think about it, you mentioned that this library was built during the old empire. Is the creator who made you a god?”

“Yes. The Lame Goddess created me. In fact, I’d say that most of the legacy of the old empire was her work. Even among gods, there weren’t many with creative talents like hers.”

The Lame Goddess.

She was the greatest blacksmith and architect of the Preah God Tribe, the one who had created all the powerful treasures and palaces used by the gods.

Because of her, families that specialized in crafting magic artifacts often claimed to be her descendants.

“Did you ever speak with the goddess?”

"If you're going to ask what kind of being she was, I'll tell you in advance that I don't know well either."

His creator, the Lame Goddess, gave the librarian his mission to guard after creating the library and immediately disappeared, he said.

As if she was too busy to linger even for a moment.

When Turan sighed in disappointment, the librarian chuckled.

“Don’t be so let down, lad. There are plenty of divine legacies on this land. Perhaps among them, there might even be a spirit that lived in closer proximity to the gods than I did.”

And so, ten joyful days passed as Turan received direct teachings from his new teacher and chatted with him.

Finally, Turan said farewell to the librarian.

“You’re leaving?”

"Yes. The owner of this place has been openly giving me hints to leave."

In truth, the cost of Turan staying here amounted to little more than the expense of food, but Lug Baltas, the head of the house, seemed bothered by the idea of the 'prey' he had missed out on lingering in front of his eyes.

For a brief moment, Turan regretted not leaving some room for negotiation instead of outright refusing Lug’s offer. But he quickly dismissed such thoughts.

Going that far wouldn’t have been proper behavior for a guest, after all.

“I see.”

The librarian’s response was calm, and there was no trace of regret or sadness on his face, despite the fact that he was parting with a conversation partner he had met after many long years.

Turan once again realized that the librarian hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he could wait for another few thousand years.

“Well then, I’ll see you again next time.”

“Come if you want, or don’t.”

“There are still so many books I haven’t read yet.”

In reality, there was little reason for Turan to visit the library again.

He had already acquired most of the knowledge he might need in life, and he had also learned nearly all of the "natural laws" that the librarian knew which could aid him in magic.

Still, Turan intended to return here someday.

He wanted to share stories of the outside world with this old teacher, who could wait for what felt like an eternity, perhaps even longer than the span of Turan’s own memory.

* * *

After exchanging a brief farewell with Lug Baltas, Turan immediately departed from Orem City.

The clothes he wore were neither the tattered rags he had arrived in nor the formal attire he had worn as a guest of the House Baltas.

A white shirt, sturdy but stiff trousers, durable leather shoes, and a cloak with a hood that could cover his head.

It was far from the appearance of a noble, but since everything he wore was brand new, he looked like a wealthy traveler at most.

The old sheepskin backpack strapped to his waist was somewhat incongruous with the rest of his appearance, but it didn’t draw much attention.

According to the continental map he had obtained from the library, the Enril Desert, the homeland of the House Zahar, was located about one to two months’ journey east of Orem.

There was no need for him to rush.

If the clues regarding his parents were destined to disappear, they would have already vanished over the past eighteen years. And if they still remained, taking a bit more time to arrive wouldn’t make a difference.

Just as he had done before arriving in Orem, Turan continued walking the roads, hunting Magical Beasts caught in his detection spells, and absorbing their power.

He deliberately avoided large cities, taking detours to complicate his path. His prior experience as a guest in another noble house had taught him how troublesome such arrangements could be.

If he hadn’t had a map, such wandering might have caused him to lose his sense of direction entirely.

The one thing that was different this time was that he paid more attention to personal hygiene during his journey.

Having lived cleanly for a while, he found himself wanting to maintain some level of cleanliness. Most importantly, after learning about the existence of microorganisms, the idea of living filthily began to bother him.

Water was plentiful in the nearby streams, and he had brought a bar of soap with him, so while he wasn’t as meticulously groomed as he had been under the care of the maids, he managed to keep himself reasonably clean.

And so, after about nine days of walking, Turan’s Detection Magic picked up the traces of another Magical Beast.

Judging by the hoofprints, which were larger than his palm, it seemed to be a mutated horse.

However, as he approached cautiously and concealed himself at a suitable distance, he witnessed a strange sight.

[Hihihihing-!]

A crimson-haired horse roared before a large tree, its behavior distinctly that of a Magical Beast. Its shoulders stood at a height roughly one and a half times that of an average human.

Behind it, leaning against the tree, was a man who appeared to be unconscious. Blood trickled down his head, and his eyes were closed.

At first, Turan thought the man had been attacked by the beast, but upon closer inspection, the beast was actually guarding him.

The saddle strapped to the horse’s back suggested that it was likely the injured man’s tamed Magical Beast.

Right next to the man and the horse stood two individuals Turan had never seen before. Their unfamiliar attire and hostile expressions made their intentions clear as they conversed.

“Damn it! That bastard of a devil - why the hell is a pet Magical Beast this strong?”

"Try to create an opening somehow."

“Easier said than done!”

It was clear they wanted to get past the horse’s defenses and finish off the unconscious man.

As Turan crept closer, he realized with a shock that the two figures weren’t human.

With dark violet skin, silver hair, and long, vertically slitted ears…

They were unmistakably Dark Elves, beings Turan had only ever encountered in fairy tales his mother told him and in books.