Translator: Pai_

At Meisa’s words, Turan flinched and looked around, his eyes darting nervously.

Of course, there was no one here paying attention to him.

In the face of the sensational news that the heir of a great house had almost been assassinated, the benefactor who saved the young lord was bound to take a back seat in the order of importance.

“An assassination at the main estate? How strong is the defense system there…”

“There’s probably a traitor involved. Besides, it’s not like there’s only one or two people who dislike me.”

The voice that responded to Ashiz's words was heavy with fatigue.

It seemed that an exceptional talent and superior status didn’t guarantee an easy life.

Running her bony hand through her hair, Meisa spoke softly.

“Well then, I’m tired, so I’ll head off to bed first. I wish you all a good night.”

Without even waiting for a reply, the princess of House Arabion swiftly left the scene, heading straight for the castle.

She literally floated into the air using levitation magic and then summoned the wind to propel herself forward.

Watching this, Ashiz’s mother, Midella, gave instructions to the elderly maid standing nearby.

“Ena? Prepare the second-best guest room in our house for Turan.”

It seemed that, cousin or not, no one dared to refuse the orders of the heir of the main family.

* * *

Early in the morning, Turan woke up, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling.

As his groggy mind cleared, he remembered that this was the estate of House Berg and that he had come here as a guest the previous night.

The first thing he did was head to the 'washbasin' placed in one corner of the spacious room.

Following the instructions of the maid from the night before, he pulled on a long lever, and a stream of water trickled out.

Turan stared at it blankly for a moment before using the soap next to it to wash his face and drying off with a towel.

With just a light rub, the water evaporated immediately, likely due to some kind of dehydration magic imbued into the towel.

‘Is it because they’re from the House of Enchanters?’

The main estate of House Berg was practically a treasure trove of magical artifacts accumulated over hundreds of years.

In terms of convenience, it might not be any better than other noble houses where servants personally came to wash one’s face every morning. But still, wasn’t it fascinating and fun to use these things?

After donning the robe prepared for guests, Turan stepped out into the hallway, where he noticed a white light hanging from the ceiling.

It was nothing like the light created by torches or lanterns; it was pure white light.

The pale glow illuminated the long corridor above without leaving a single shadow.

By now, Turan’s magic power had grown considerably, and his mastery of Concealment had improved to the point where he could maintain complete invisibility for several hours in a dimly lit environment. But in a place like this, the best he could manage was maybe a couple of minutes.

If an assassin from House Zahar were to infiltrate this place, they would have to find their target and kill them within a short time or risk wandering the corridors, exhausted from depleting their magic power, only to be discovered and meet a miserable end.

And that was assuming they didn’t account for the detection and interception magic artifacts hidden somewhere within the estate.

“Turan! You’re still an early riser! But what are you doing alone in the hallway?”

While Turan was absentmindedly examining the magical artifact in the corridor, someone called out to him.

It was Ashiz, who seemed to be in high spirits after returning home for the first time in a while.

“I just found this fascinating.”

“That? Oh, the magic lamp? It’s something we’d practice making when we were kids during enchantment magic training… Want one? There’s plenty lying around in the storage room.”

“No, it’s not to that extent.”

After all, Turan could create such light himself.

One of the first spells he learned from Keorn was a spell to shape light and turn it into a simple weapon.

It was just that he didn’t use it often because physical attacks could be handled with a slingshot, and his night vision made the need for light unnecessary.

“By the way, are you hungry? Mother will probably invite us for breakfast soon.”

“I can wait. But there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“Hmm?”

“About that Arabion lady from yesterday. Is she sick or something? If it’s hard to talk about, you don’t have to tell me.”

The health of an heir to a great house could be considered a kind of military intelligence, so Turan approached the subject cautiously.

Fortunately, Ashiz only gave a bitter smile and didn’t seem suspicious, as if Turan were doing some kind of spy.

In fact, not being curious would’ve been more suspicious, given her appearance.

“She’s quite emaciated, right? She wasn’t like that when she was younger, but at some point, she started eating only water and salt. Says being thin makes it easier for her to fly… From what I’ve heard, a few people tried to imitate her but all gave up, saying they felt like they were about to die.”

“She definitely didn’t look healthy.”

No matter how much magic power could evolve the human body to display superhuman abilities, nobles were still living humans at the end of the day.

Logically speaking, if you take in nothing while continuously expending energy, problems are bound to arise.

“Still, she seems to be doing fine somehow. In the end, if she insists on living like that, what can we do? No matter how close we are as relatives, she’s ultimately part of the main branch of the family.”

At a glance, they seemed to interact casually like relatives, but there still appeared to be a certain invisible wall between them.

After their small talk, as Ashiz had predicted, Turan joined him in attending House Berg’s morning banquet.

Present at the table were the lord and lady of the house, Ashiz’s older brother, and about three other relatives. The Arabion lady was absent.

It would’ve been awkward to let her sit there eating only water and salt while everyone else enjoyed a feast. She likely wanted to avoid that awkwardness.

“There's not much on the table, but please eat your fill.”

The words of Midella, the lady of the house, were pure modesty, considering the food spread across the table.

Not to mention the ordinary soups and bread, there were all sorts of dishes Turan had never even seen before, spread out like fields of wheat on the Takein Plains.

This is crab meat wrapped in dough and steamed, and that’s mashed boiled potatoes topped with truffles…

Ashiz, who was kindly explaining the dishes, spoke with an exasperated tone.

“Why is the table so extravagant today? There’s stuff here I didn’t even see on my birthday. Anyone would think the head of House Arabion was visiting.”

“Be quiet.”

It seemed the grandeur of the meal was due to Turan being Ashiz’s savior, rather than this being the family’s usual routine.

After enjoying the luxurious feast, although a few of the dishes were too unfamiliar for Turan’s taste, he finished with sweet bread and bitter tea as Midella brought up the main topic.

“Now, to continue the conversation from last night, I hear my son promised you a powerful magic artifact in exchange for his life.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Do you have a specific item in mind?”

“I’d like something that would help with defense. It’s easy to harm others with magic, but it’s difficult to protect oneself. If possible, I’d prefer something that can counter surprise attacks.”

This was the conclusion Turan had reached after much deliberation.

Even if the other half of his bloodline was focused on defense, adding additional defensive measures would only enhance his protection.

He’d learned a lot from recently witnessing dark elf necromancers being caught off guard and helplessly attacked.

If Turan himself were to be subjected to such an attack, he had no surefire countermeasures in place.

Relying solely on quick reflexes and agile movements was too precarious a defensive strategy.

“That’s a fairly common type of item, so it won’t be difficult. But we don’t have one readily available at the moment.”

“Then, can I make it for him?”

“Don’t bother unless you want to disgrace the name of House Berg.”

Ashiz’s older brother, Melo, who had remained silent throughout the previous day, interjected sarcastically.

Ashiz glanced at his parents, lightly bowing his head as if seeking their permission.

“I’ll make it. I just finished a commission from the main branch recently, so I have time to spare.”

“How do you plan to make it?”

“For countering surprise attacks, it’s best to use something that can be carried at all times. I’ll craft it in the form of a ring, earring, or necklace and imbue it with magic that can immediately activate the defensive powers of the Guardian Bloodline.”

“That sounds suitable. How long will it take?”

“One month.”

If it was the Guardian Bloodline, Turan had read about it in a book before.

Unlike other bloodlines that preferred ranged attacks utilizing magic, the Guardian Bloodline was specialized in close combat, based on superior physical abilities.

Among its traits, the most notable strength was said to be its incredible physical durability.

If Turan could borrow that power temporarily, it would certainly provide unparalleled defensive capabilities.

“There’s nothing more unsightly than parents bragging about their children, but Melo is nearly as skilled as I am, the head of the house. Essentially, it means that a head-level wizard of the Enchanter Bloodline is devoting a full month of his time to crafting a magic artifact.”

“I’m grateful, but… isn’t that a bit excessive?”

The proposal from House Berg was so overwhelming that Turan felt almost stunned to accept it.

From the knowledge he had read in books and the information he had heard from Ashiz, the quality of a magic artifact crafted by an Enchanter Bloodline wizard depended on the amount of time invested in its creation.

Of course, it wasn’t as if infinite time could produce infinitely powerful artifacts. The amount of magic power and talent a wizard possessed determined the optimal amount of time that could be invested. For most enchanters, a month was close to their limit.

Considering the aftereffects of such intensive work, it would take around half a year before the wizard could craft another powerful artifact.

In essence, Turan would be monopolizing six months of a head-level wizard’s productivity.

“If that’s excessive, it would mean my son’s life is cheap, wouldn’t it? But it’s not. Absolutely not. Then, it seems you’ll have to stay as a guest in our household for the next month.”

“I wonder if I won’t be imposing too much by staying for so long.”

“Please don’t think of it as an inconvenience. Consider it an invitation.”

* * *

“It seems like my mother’s taken a liking to you.”

As soon as they stepped out after the banquet, Ashiz started the conversation with a serious expression.

“Me?”

“Yeah. Actually, before going to bed last night, I spoke with her about you. I mentioned how your magical talent is no less than Meisa’s, and how, despite that, you never neglect your training. Initially, I just wanted to make sure she wouldn’t underestimate you as a wandering noble with no proper backing, but…”

“But as she listened, she started thinking about bringing me into the family.”

The first thought that crossed Turan’s mind was Izela Baltas of House Baltas.

Though he had been repulsed by her casual use of knights as shields, that wasn’t the only reason she had been far from his ideal type.

On a broader level, it wasn’t so different from what Lug Baltas, the head of House Baltas, had attempted, trying to marry her off. The only difference was between a rural border family and a direct vassal family of a great house.

“Exactly. They’ll overwhelm you with gifts to make you feel indebted, then introduce you to a beautiful young lady. That’s how they lure you in. Actually, there are a few adults in our family who joined through such methods.”

Apparently, even the noble of the Guardian Bloodline who would assist in crafting the magic artifact had joined House Berg in a similar fashion.

Learning this doubled the sense of burden Turan felt.

“This is troublesome.”

Ashiz laughed and waved his hand dismissively, as if to reassure him.

“Don’t worry about it too much. The magic artifact is just their way of trying to win your favor. No one’s going to force you to get married just because you accepted it. My mother isn’t that unreasonable.”

“Is that so.”

For Turan, that was even more unsettling.

If they had outright said, “Join our family if you want this artifact,” then he could simply steal the item and run without any guilt.

There are some people who find an unrepayable kindness more burdensome than hostility, and Turan was one of those people.

Of course, that didn’t mean he would seriously consider marrying into House Berg and staying there.

What if he had children later, and they awakened the Zahar Bloodline? How would he ever explain that?

“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to worry about. Oh, by the way, do you have any plans right now?”

“Why?”

“Let’s go out and have some fun. Zabilin may not be the capital, but there are still plenty of things to enjoy here. Don’t tell me you’re planning to stay cooped up training in magic like you always do in other cities?”

“That’s exactly my plan.”

“Oh, come on. Let’s live a little! Enjoy life for once, my friend!”

At the mention of 'friend', Turan eventually let himself be dragged outside the estate of House Berg by Ashiz.

He could now take in the scenery of the city in broad daylight, something he hadn’t been able to properly see the night before due to the curfew.

Some of the passersby reacted subtly to the outfits worn by Turan and Ashiz, but unlike in other cities, they didn’t bow deeply or offer formal greetings.

Instead, they simply gave a light nod of respect as they walked by.

After about ten minutes of walking, they arrived at a bustling street lined with various shops.

“So, what are we going to do for fun now?”

“Well, that depends on what you like. Drinking, gambling, women, what’s your preference?”

“The library.”

“Every time I talk to you, I realize just how dull your tastes are.”

“I haven’t had many chances to ‘properly have fun’. But all three things you just suggested don’t sound appealing.”

Turan had drunk alcohol a few times during invitations from various houses, but he didn’t find it particularly special. Gambling was something his mother had repeatedly warned him against as a child, so he had always avoided it.

As for women… even without warnings from his mother or Keorn, there were plenty of reasons he wasn’t interested.

Especially in regions where his bloodline was looked down upon, the idea was even more off-putting.

“Hmm, none of them appeal to you, huh… Then how about a play?”

“A play?”

He had briefly read about plays in books.

Something about acting out specific events or folklore on a stage.

Of course, he had never actually seen one in person.

Hearing this, Ashiz widened his eyes in disbelief.

“What? You’ve never seen a play in your life?”

“Nope.”

“Well, then I can’t let this opportunity pass. It just so happens that the best theater in Zabilin isn’t far from here. And they even have knights performing as actors!”

Turan, who vaguely thought of actors as something akin to clowns, found this utterly ridiculous.

In the regions near Hisaril Hill, knights were regarded as near-mythical figures, yet here they were, entertaining crowds on stage…

It truly felt like the domains of the great houses were entirely separate worlds from other regions.

“Welcome, esteemed guests!”

Soon after, they arrived at the theater, where a young boy greeted them with a deep bow.

Ashiz grinned and pointed at a stack of performance advertisements off to the side.

“Take a look over there and find something that catches your eye. The titles and descriptions of the plays should be written on them.”

Turan, not expecting much, glanced over the advertisements. But then, he froze as he laid eyes on one particular flyer.

Seeing this, Ashiz, who had walked up beside him, spoke.

“Hero Keorn? You want to see this one?”