Translator: Pai_

After leaving the gods of Carmine with a task, Turan did not immediately return to Kalamaf but instead flew north riding Bije.

About twenty minutes passed.

A noble youth running hard southward after leaving Carmine’s temporary capital came into view.

As a pitch-black shadow was cast, he looked up at the sky and bowed low.

“Family head!”

“Get on, Borea.”

“Why didn’t you return first......”

The young man acting as a messenger was Borea Shatik, a noble of the Earthmover Bloodline from the southwestern part of the Gray Zone.

Having joined the army of House Parsha in place of his older brother, the heir, this young man was a soldier who had proven his loyalty many times, as evidenced by the three medals on his chest, and was also a fervent follower of Turan.

“It doesn’t even take thirty minutes to go back and forth anyway, so this is more efficient. If you walked here, it would have taken over a week.”

“Your thirty minutes are much more valuable than my week, family head.”

The neck that had been held stiff even in front of nobles of great houses, and even before the head of House Carmine, was now bent with extreme flexibility.

This was precisely why Turan used him as a messenger.

Only someone who worshipped Turan Parsha like a god could properly represent his will.

Giving in to the insistence, Borea got on Bije but shifted uncomfortably with an awkward expression.

“Your posture seems a bit uneasy?”

“Well, to dare ride together on the sacred bird of the family head feels too disrespectful......”

There was a slight degree of exaggeration, but this much was something to be endured as a side effect of deification.

When Bije took Borea’s words as praise and shook her body, the two riding atop let out startled exclamations.

-We’re going to fall at this rate.

-Then I’ll catch you!

Turan lightly scolded Bije not to even think about dropping them and leisurely chatted with Borea seated beside him.

On the way here, he had no time to talk since he had to explain what to deliver to the Carmine side and how to respond to various situations.

"How's the atmosphere within the family lately? Don't worry about my feelings and speak honestly."

Usually, it’s foolish to answer honestly when someone of high status says that, but instead of lying and saying everything was fine, Borea shared his honest thoughts.

Anyway, it was informally known that Turan had a mysterious ability to see through a person’s inner thoughts, thanks to the way he had previously filtered out spies.

“Many believe the next war is not far off. It’s been quite a while since we last clashed with Aravion, and House Varaha has probably finished clearing up House Ruvan by now. Honestly, after the last battle, we thought Carmine might become an enemy too, but......”

Trailing off while glancing back, Turan nodded to confirm his assumption.

“Yes, Carmine will become an ally. Of course, not on the level of Varaha or Lavitas, more like a partner who could stab you in the back at any time, so they won’t be easy to trust.”

“I thought so as well.”

“And from now on, you should consider House Zahar to be an enemy.”

At Turan’s words, Borea gasped in a sharp inhale.

His pale face was clearly tinged with fear.

“Are you afraid?”

“......I apologize.”

“Feeling fear isn’t wrong. Giving in to it is.”

It wasn’t hard to guess why Borea felt such fear toward House Zahar.

He, too, must have been of the generation that had witnessed the Aravion-Zahar war decades ago.

Back then, many noble families in the Gray Zone had to painfully experience just how powerful the two great houses were and what they were capable of.

In particular, since those who rejected demands from House Zahar were often found beheaded, it was only natural that between the two, Zahar would be the more fearsome.

After waiting a moment to let the other calm his emotions, Turan continued with a question.

“Leaving aside the assumption that the enemy is Zahar, are there many who feel fatigued or fearful about the fight itself?”

“There are some, but I believe more are actually looking forward to it. After all, we’ve always won so far.”

Even someone skilled in battle is bound to stumble once in every ten fights.

It could be a bad physical condition that day, or an enemy stronger than expected, or some other unpredictable variable.

And when it comes to wars between noble houses, the variables multiply far beyond the scale of individual duels.

However, House Parsha, led by Turan, always managed to leverage such variables positively to gain the upper hand.

It wasn’t as if they had simply won a few small fights by sheer luck, they consistently conquered great houses with each battle. So it was no surprise that the vassals of Parsha considered their family head a god of war.

“Expectation, huh.”

For Turan, it was a feeling both joyful and strangely bitter.

Wars of killing and being killed, if avoidable, it was better not to fight at all.

But in a situation where enemies sought to harm them from just beyond the fence, shouting about not wanting to fight was meaningless.

The cries of the powerless were like the wails of lambs begging not to be slaughtered.

When all this fighting was over, when those enemies were banished or eliminated from the world, could war itself be erased?

He wished so.

As he entertained that thought, Borea, watching him carefully, spoke with caution.

“There aren’t many, but... there are those who think that when all this is over, the family head might rebuild the Old Empire and ascend as emperor.”

From his tone, Turan could tell that the Borea before him was one of those people.

Perhaps a significant portion of the young nobles who were drawn to him shared similar thoughts.

‘Emperor......’

A word rarely used in modern times, but familiar to those who had studied history.

It was a term that arose as an alternative when the word ‘king’ fell out of favor due to its association with the leaders of other races long ago, used to designate the ruler of humanity.

Ironically, even at the height of the Old Empire’s strength, while the title of emperor existed, no one ever actually took the throne.

Even Otas the Night Hunter, the most powerful god, had no interest in that seat, and the other gods found it burdensome to claim superiority over him.

In other words, the Old Empire was an empire without an emperor.

And after the fall of the Old Empire, though some family heads dared to call themselves kings, none ever uttered the name of emperor.

Only someone who ruled over multiple great noble houses might have the qualifications, but such people were merely possessed forms of fallen gods.

Yet now, thousands of years later, someone had appeared who truly had the ability to unite the great houses and bring the world together as one.

The vassals of Parsha hoped that their lord would restore the empire and become the master of mankind.

“I don’t know if I can fulfill your expectations, but I will at least choose the path that brings more happiness to more people.”

“What do you mean by more people’s happiness?”

“If my loyal allies wish it, there’s no reason I couldn’t become emperor, but even if they refuse, I won’t threaten or coerce them. A throne washed in the blood of former friends who once stood beside me would hold no value.”

Tell those who think like you that, Turan warned softly.

At the sharp, icy tone, Borea bowed respectfully.

***