Translator: Pai_

Upon returning to Kalamaf, Turan first informed Ashiz and the administrative team of the outcomes of the talks.

Establishing a cooperative relationship with House Carmine, and formalizing a hostile relationship with House Zahar, which had previously been more of a loose non-aggression stance.

The latter had already been partly communicated after his infiltration of House Zahar, so discussions were underway, but the former was an unexpected workload, prompting everyone to cry out in dismay.

“Then we can empty a few outposts stationed along the northern mountain range. The Enril Desert perimeter is too weak right now.”

“Do so. The western front is still well-defended, yes?”

“Of course.”

It would be ideal to form at least a non-aggression pact with the great sea serpent mermaids of the North Sea, but access to them was challenging.

It wasn’t even certain whether they still remained in the base where Armania had once lived with them, and there was no safe method to attempt negotiation.

The decisive issue was that aside from Turan, there were hardly any nobles skilled in underwater combat.

Of course, if they brought a large number of Carmine nobles, they could make up for the lack in combat power, but...

‘Fighting the great sea serpents with Carmine bastards next to you... you'd be lucky not to get stabbed in the back.’

When taming a wild beast, you always had to appear stronger than the beast.

The moment you showed weakness, it would no longer see you as a master but as prey.

In the same way, the beast called Carmine, now seemingly tamed, was still more of a wolf than a domesticated dog.

Their role wasn’t that of gentle companions exposing their soft underbellies, but rather bait to be thrown into the most dangerous battlefield.

“I’ve already ordered Carmine to conduct more detailed reconnaissance on Aravion and Nagin. Since they have a history of intelligence gathering, they should be better at it than we are.”

“And what are you giving them in return?”

“Nothing for now.”

“What kind of promise did you even make then...”

Turan simply gave a sheepish smile in response to Ashiz’s murmur.

Seeing that, Ashiz scoffed and shook his head.

“Fine, I get it. You can’t tell me. Just share it someday, if you can.”

“Thanks, my friend.”

Though Turan shared most secrets with his comrades, there was one truth he kept only to himself.

That the fallen old gods were originally ordinary humans who had lived in another world.

The reason for hiding this was simple.

Explaining it would inevitably lead to an existential crisis, that this world might not be real at all, but an intricately crafted illusion.

‘There were a few among the gods who suspected as much. That this world is actually something made up of zeros and ones, like a kind of digital game...’

Of course, those who truly believed that were only a small minority.

Because this world was simply too vast and complex to be just a game.

A massive continent big enough to house ten of their world’s largest nations, and the countless millions of people who had built up generations of history and interaction upon it.

To simulate all this in what people call “virtual reality” would have far exceeded the technological capabilities of their former world.

Of course, Turan genuinely believed this world wasn’t fake.

More than anything, if it were fake, then the “return” that Monarch spoke of wouldn’t even be possible.

How could one return to that world with the body of a noble that didn’t even exist there?

Granted, believing an enemy’s words at face value was foolish, but the fact that he had successfully persuaded the gods of Zahar showed there must have been some kind of proof.

Those gods weren’t fools who’d fall for mere words.

‘Someday, when everything is certain, I’ll be able to tell the others.’

Even so, the reason he still hadn’t shared it was because Turan himself hadn’t fully dispelled his own doubts.

If this world truly were fake, it would be a cruel truth for those wandering about unaware of that reality.

And so, after presenting the path the house should take through the administrative team, tasks still awaited Turan in succession.

Namely, taking care of Rida, who had been half-neglected due to the infiltration mission and negotiations.

“I thought you had completely forgotten me, Head of House Parsha.”

“I’ve been a bit busy.”

“Oh my, you’ve lost much of your charm since back then. You used to be more shy.”

Rida, who acted like an old lover reunited, chuckled behind her hand at Turan’s indifferent attitude.

During the few days Turan had been away, she had continued researching soul magic with the white elf Nia, and in that short time, she had uncovered yet another piece of information.

“What is it?”

“It’s about the ‘leash’ I mentioned earlier. Turns out there’s quite a bit of individual variation.”

While he was gone, Rida had conducted experiments forcibly extracting the spirit forms of death row prisoners.

Unlike those who had voluntarily solidified their spirit form through soul magic, the extracted spirit form, unable to return to the body, would simply scatter and disappear on its own, a cruel method suitable only for grave criminals.

As a result, Rida discovered that even among death row inmates, the number of thorns embedded in their spirit forms’ heads varied significantly.

“Many had hundreds, but the smallest number I saw was less than twenty. I haven’t been able to analyze the reason precisely yet. I’ve only experimented on commoner prisoners so far, so I doubt it’s due to the difference in magic power...”

“It’s probably a bloodline issue.”

Though it was unfortunate for Rida, who had been racking her brain, Turan already knew the answer.

It was something the half-elves had told him in the past.

“Those with stronger affinity to the Zahar bloodline likely have fewer thorns. We’re right next to the Enril Desert, so there must be quite a few people here who carry that lineage.”

“Oh my... Do you know the reason why?”

"Yes. When the Night Hunter put on the leashes, he reportedly demanded not to place strong constraints on Zahar bloodline nobles."

Although Monarch was now a powerful soul wizard feared and shunned by others as a hidden force, before losing his physical body he had been little more than a chaotic troublemaker with moderately useful abilities.

In contrast, Otas was the most powerful among the Preah God Tribe during its prime, so there was no way he could refuse such a request.

Of course, in his diary, he had cursed and complained, but as with all high-ranking figures, such insults were only muttered out of sight.

At any rate, the nobles of the Zahar bloodline, due to their weaker leashes, had lost the ability to empathize with commoners, but in return, they were not bound by restrictions when facing the gods in spirit form.

Though apparently, no one, including Turan, was completely free of the leash altogether.

“I thought I had discovered something valuable, only to find it was for such a reason...”

“Still, progress comes from uncovering these things one by one. Soul magic still holds many possibilities we don’t understand.”

When Rida looked disappointed and sulky, Turan comforted her by sharing something he had seen previously.

The story of someone who obtained explosive magical power by completely burning away their own soul.

“That kind of bizarre method... you didn’t happen to learn it, did you?”

“No. I doubt he would’ve taught it to me even if I had asked.”

The person was gone now, so it was all just speculation, but Turan believed that.

Haroon would have wanted him not to learn the method of burning one’s own soul to gain strength.

"Come to think of it, that person was somewhat similar to you, Lady Rida."

"In what way?"

"Being somewhat grandmotherly..."

At Turan’s words, Rida fiercely pinched his side, subtly expressing that while she herself might say such things, she didn’t like hearing them from others.

After exchanging a few more comments about soul magic, Rida quietly lowered her voice and asked,

“By the way, is it true you really intend to go to war with Zahar?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I heard it from Meisa. She only said it in passing, though.”

Outside of the time spent researching soul magic, Rida had spent quite a lot of time with Meisa, serving the role of passing on various knowledge that a noblewoman expecting childbirth ought to know.

Originally, this was something a mother should have taught, but Meisa’s mother had been poisoned when she was young, leaving no one to guide her in such matters.

Thanks to that, Turan also learned several facts he hadn’t known before.

For example, that a female wizard nearing childbirth temporarily experiences a drop in physical ability to near that of an ordinary person.

‘Well, if that weren’t the case, something terrible would surely happen during delivery...’

In the past, when Turan tried to feed Meisa, who was unable to eat properly, by inserting food directly into her stomach, an unenhanced metal tube had been crushed by the strength of her esophageal sphincter.

If something similar were to happen during childbirth, it would indeed result in a horrifying tragedy.

Pushing aside the chilling thought, Turan informed Rida of the situation currently underway.

“There’s no need to keep it secret anymore. Yes, that’s right. A rebellion broke out within House Zahar, and the faction of the family head who was friendly to us was overthrown, so we ended up having to fight.”

“Goodness... Our family head should be made aware of this. Could you possibly send a letter?”

“I’ve already contacted Lavitas. I’m not sure yet how they’ll respond, though.”

Rida had fled Lavitas and settled in Kalamaf precisely because of the internal unrest that had erupted there.

Now that Zahar, which had at least been neutral, had officially become an enemy, there was a chance that the mood among the Lavitas nobles might shift strongly toward reversal.

After finishing his conversation with Rida, Turan suddenly sensed a powerful presence emerging from the underground base.

The presence rose upward, causing a stir in the surroundings, and finally arrived before Turan.

“Tada!”

Solif, who had vacated his post to oversee control over House Ruvan, had at last returned.

*****

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