Translator: Pai_

The first place Turan headed after leaving Kalamaf in preparation for war was none other than the ruins of the old Ophen City in the northeast, which had been destroyed by an attack from the mermaids.

Where once the corpses of Great Sea Serpents were scattered around the city walls, now troops from the House Carmine were stationed.

The head of House Carmine, Rodor, surprisingly complied without resistance to Turan’s sudden request to come out alone to discuss something.

It seemed he had gained confidence from the fact that the sea was right nearby, unlike before.

“What’s this about, all of a sudden? No word beforehand.”

Naturally, Rodor’s expression as he greeted Turan wasn’t exactly pleasant.

His demeanor hardly matched that of someone welcoming the head of a great noble house allied with him.

But that was only to be expected, as he was essentially caught awkwardly between two powers vying for supremacy in the world.

“You’re still communicating with the Carmine main house, right?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s classified information within the house.”

When Turan asked about the method, Rodor maintained a defensive attitude, and Turan clicked his tongue lightly with a “Tch.”

“I’m not asking about the method. I came to warn you that he’s extracting power from the relics of the old gods.”

“What do you mean?”

Seeing Rodor’s expression of incomprehension, Turan roughly explained the situation while closely observing the emotions conveyed by the other's expression and scent.

Unfortunately, interpreting the scent didn’t provide particularly meaningful insights.

It was much like when Jemel had visited before.

'That must be the method for controlling bodily substances...'

According to what Turan had extracted through interrogation of Jemel in the past, this was one of the secret techniques that the Carmine had developed over many years of opposition with House Zahar.

It involved manipulating the composition of substances excreted from the body to prevent the emission of anything other than pure moisture, or something along those lines.

Of course, in the long term, it wasn’t good for the body, but it was quite an effective technique for meetings like this. Turan himself had experimented a few times after learning it to see whether it would work on Berit.

“So you really don’t know anything about that technique.”

“Right. If one could extract power from buildings built in the old days... does that mean he might be trying to regain his original power with it?”

“Nothing’s confirmed yet, but I don’t think that’s it. I took one and used it, and that wasn’t what it was for.”

Since Rodor might betray him if he thought Monarch was too powerful, Turan deliberately revealed part of the information to make him seem less threatening.

From Rodor’s expressions and tone, it seemed he really knew nothing about the method Monarch had used.

Well, if he had known, then Jemel and the other Carmine god tribe members would also have known something.

At that moment, Rodor brought up another topic.

“By the way, when are you planning to return the ones you’re holding? If you consider us allies, shouldn’t you be helping strengthen our forces, even just a bit?”

“As I said before, I can’t return them until that guy is completely repelled, or at the very least until the Great Sea Serpents are dealt with. Before that, no way. This isn’t something open to negotiation.”

They had already argued about this issue before.

The Carmine gods had demanded the return of two spirit forms captured during the last war with them, and Turan had refused.

After a few more attempts to persuade him, and upon receiving his firm rejection, Rodor had reluctantly agreed to thoroughly monitor a few divine relic sites located within the hilly region, as Turan had suggested.

After all, Rodor also agreed that Monarch’s plan must not come to fruition.

And now that they knew Monarch had made the decision to “return” without consulting the Carmine faction, they didn’t have many options left.

After somewhat reining in the House Carmine, the next place Turan headed was the territory of House Varaha, located beyond the Jade Mirror.

There, he instructed Berit, who was managing the Varaha region in place of Solif, to likewise oversee the relic sites within the Land of the Lakes, and then checked several relics located within the influence of House Ruvan, including the Colosseum.

“Make sure to maintain regular contact with the nearby residents. If anyone goes missing, report directly to Varaha.”

“Understood.”

The wizards of House Ruvan were internally displeased with Turan’s instructions, but none dared to openly defy them.

Currently, the upper echelons of the house were filled with those who had submitted to Parsha and Varaha, so resistance would be meaningless.

After returning to Kalamaf via the mirror, Turan then went south to patrol a few of the Lavitas relic sites, and while doing so, he also met with Osel and exchanged updates. Around that time, news came from Ashiz.

According to the spies dispatched to the western forest region, nothing had happened at the relics located in that area.

“Nothing happened?”

[Yeah, nothing at all.]

“Hm.”

After briefly agonizing, Turan recalled the scene he had witnessed in the library and was able to roughly guess why Monarch had not stirred up other locations.

If one assumed that the spirit’s instruction to visit the library was not a "prophecy" but rather "advice" based on directly sensing the current situation...

‘Maybe it’s because the ritual takes a long time. Needless to say, it must be quite loud.’

A ritual involving the massacre of tens of thousands, refining their blood and flesh, and smearing it across the city for days.

On reflection, it would have been impossible to do that in cities under the influence of great noble houses or in areas with frequent contact with surrounding regions.

Orem City only flourished within its own area; fundamentally remote, and relatively close to House Nagin, only there had it been possible.

In other words, the places Turan needed to investigate were either remote enough for such acts to go unnoticed, or places where a great noble house might directly cooperate with such a ceremony.

Somewhere on an island in the North or South Sea, or regions under the control of Nagin, Aravion, or Zahar.

‘The interior of Nagin and Aravion is probably already dealt with or too far and dangerous... Zahar seems like the better option.’

There was a high chance they still had some time before Zahar’s army reached Kalamaf.

The capital city, Axum, was located relatively farther east even within the Enril Desert.

The army that invaded last time had probably come from a city in the western part of the desert.

After making all his judgments, Turan immediately set out for the Enril Desert and soon arrived in Banifel City, where the Tomb of the Gods was located.

There, he encountered the second massacre committed by Monarch.

"How horrible."

-It stinks.

Bije, who was carrying Turan, groaned.

The pyramid-shaped structure, hundreds of meters tall, had collapsed from about two-thirds of the top, falling over sideways.

From his experience in constructing buildings several times, Turan guessed that it had not been destroyed by an external attack but had collapsed under its own weight.

Naturally, as in the previous incident, the place was covered in blood-painted symbols presumed to be from the people who had lived in Banifel City.

The Librarian, whom Turan summoned for verification, confirmed that while the scale was much larger, the symbols were of the same type as before.

“Have the ones who did this already left?”

“It seems so. Unfortunately.”

Judging by the scent of blood, the massacre had been completed about four to five days ago.

There was no trace of the scent of dark elves, suggesting that since Turan had killed their king, they were no longer usable as workers, and that people from Zahar were likely used instead.

‘It can't be easy to get people to cooperate in a massacre like this.’

Considering that Monarch had been able to forcibly create a "leash" to suppress wizards’ sadistic urges toward commoners, it was also possible he possessed an ability to remove such internal defense mechanisms.

After incinerating the remains of the citizens left inside Banifel City with fire magic, Turan entered the Tomb of the Gods.

He broke through the half-collapsed passage caused by the building’s destruction using Earthmover Magic, and the relics he had seen before once again greeted him.

A large square box with glass in front, a rod connecting two round spheres, and a metal plate covered in dozens of buttons.

The glass that originally sealed them had shattered from the impact, but aside from a few exceptions, most of the items had maintained their form, possibly due to their sturdiness.

Now, Turan had a general idea of what these objects were, whereas before he couldn’t even guess their function.

Monitor, dumbbell, keyboard...

When the old gods were still alive, maintaining their original bodies and devoting themselves to technological development, these were prototype models made just to show examples of what they planned to create in the future, crude shells meant to resemble the real thing.

Perhaps while creating them, they believed they would one day achieve a civilization equal to the one they had once lived in.

No one likely imagined that such overwhelmingly powerful beings, virtually gods, had life spans of no more than a few hundred years.

For a moment, Turan stood engulfed in a strange sentiment as he gazed down at them, but soon moved toward the innermost part of the structure to double-check whether the entrance to the Night Hunter’s Labyrinth he had once entered was still there before finally exiting.

The sky was growing dim, probably because the sun was starting to set.

“Guess I’ll sleep here tonight...”

-I'm hungry!

“You just ate. If you keep eating, you’ll get fat.”

-I don’t gain fat!

After bickering playfully for a moment with Bije, Turan narrowed his eyes as he sensed someone approaching.

The figure was a wizard.

And not just any wizard, but a fairly powerful one, a noble ranked between upper and high tier.

There wasn’t even a need to wonder whether the person was ally or foe.

None of the people Turan was close with would be wandering this place at this time.

Turan immediately entered Concealment with Bije and waited for several dozen seconds.

Soon, a middle-aged noble man with a fairly refined appearance appeared in the spot where they had been.

“He should be somewhere around here...”

As the man muttered to himself, Turan recognized his face as somewhat familiar.

Wasn’t his name Ridel Zahar?

One of the key figures of Zahar whom Berit had once briefed him on, a man from a branch far removed from the family head line, where an unusually powerful bloodline ability had manifested.

As a bonus, Turan hadn’t only seen him in a portrait; he had met him in person. Ridel had been one of the Soul Possession bodies chasing Turan in Axum not long ago.

‘Who’s he looking for? Could it be me? Or did they install some system to detect intruders? But if he really noticed me, why would he come alone?’

Unless someone had the power of a family head, even the strongest gods, those capable of combining all four bloodline abilities, had their limits in such a body.

Just in case, before attacking, Turan expanded the perception of his Sacred Relic to check if anyone else was nearby.

He couldn’t believe that Zahar’s gods would behave this carelessly if they truly considered him an enemy. There had to be some trap.

Something that would overturn the moment he attempted to strike.

But after using the Sacred Relic and running several rounds of Detection Magic with various conditions, the result confirmed that only two humans were present here, Turan and the man.

Even if Badal, Phoenix, Monarch, and the gods of Nagin-Aravion and Zahar were all waiting nearby, from this distance he could still escape safely.

‘Alright. I’ll kill him, extract his soul, and then hear what he has to say at my own pace.’

Suppressing the predatory thrill swelling deep within his chest, Turan pulled out a steel ball and began to spin it.

However, just as Turan was about to launch the steel ball and crush the man’s head from behind, the other party, who had been scanning the area, suddenly did something completely unexpected.

He cupped both hands to his mouth and shouted loudly, calling out to him!

“Turan! Turan Parsha! Are you hiding somewhere around here? I surrender! I want to talk!”

“Surrender...?”

It was so absurd that Turan even stopped spinning his slingshot for a moment.

He stood there, thinking for a few seconds. Meanwhile, the man began throwing away every magic artifact he had, one by one, as if to prove the sincerity of his words.

Only after hearing him shout a few more times, stripped of everything except his plain clothes, did Turan slowly reveal himself.

Apparently, even a god of the Zahar bloodline had no way to detect Concealment without a specific method, because the man was visibly startled upon seeing him.

“Oh!”

“Don’t move. And don’t use any skills. If I see any sign, I’ll attack immediately.”

Ridel Zahar froze in place, staring at the spinning steel ball in Turan’s hand.

Satisfied with his docile behavior, Turan nodded and pulled out an item that had been lying dormant in his large-capacity pouch for quite some time.

It was the magic power suppression chains that had once been used to restrain Solif.

“Stay still.”

Turan wrapped the chain around Ridel’s body a few times, and only after confirming that his magic power was rapidly draining did he ask the most pressing question.

“First of all, how did you know I was here?”

“I had already set up a barrier here. One that notifies me if a being with a certain level of power passes through...”

“A barrier? I didn’t sense anything like that.”

Until now, the Mimic Sacred Relic had almost never failed to detect barriers of that sort.

Ridel, watching Turan’s suspicious expression, carefully explained.

“It’s my skill. If I combine it with an assassin-type, I can create a barrier completely undetectable by any means. Of course, its defensive power is a bit lacking, though.”

Ah, so it made sense if the result was a fusion of Concealment and barrier-type abilities in skill form.

Come to think of it, perhaps the reason Phoenix had noticed Turan’s presence so quickly when he infiltrated the Red Fortress was also because of this man's ability?

Ridel immediately nodded at the unspoken question.

“Right. Phoenix told me to place an extra barrier around the place where Caesar was being held. The original purpose was to prevent the carpenter from secretly escaping with him.”

“The carpenter... ah, you mean Badal.”

Perhaps out of a desire to gain trust, Ridel disclosed everything that happened that day in detail.

“When I reported that the barrier had activated, Phoenix gathered the others to chase after Badal. But when they checked all over the city, there was no sign that anyone had escaped. So they assumed someone had come in, not gone out, and while heading back, we ran into you.”

Learning the truth of that day, Turan nearly let out a sigh but barely managed to suppress it.

Who would’ve thought there was a barrier even the Mimic Sacred Relic couldn’t detect?

Then again, that item was a Sacred Relic formed from the power left behind by a god upon death, a tool that didn’t originally exist in the game, so it wasn’t surprising its limitations couldn’t be fully known without direct experimentation.

“All right, that answers that. Now, what do you mean by surrender? Are you saying you’re leaving your side?”

“Yes! That conman bastard and Phoenix, they’re both insane. They commit atrocities like this just because he wants to ‘go back’... they're complete psychopathic lunatics.”

Ridel muttered in a hollow voice, his gaze fixed on Banifel City, now a ruin just like the relic site.

Considering it had been about the same size as Orem, the number of residents must have exceeded ten thousand.

He claimed he couldn’t stand such slaughter and had decided to defect.

As long as he didn’t possess a skill to deceive the Eye of Truth, his words appeared to be genuine.

“I see...”

To think that among the gods of Zahar, there would be someone who thought like this.

Even Haroon himself had casually sacrificed hundreds of thousands of lives for Turan’s birth, so naturally, Turan assumed that they all considered human lives to be meaningless.

Come to think of it, wasn’t it actually laughable for someone like Ridel to be saying such things now?

Over the past thousands of years, the number of original owners of the bodies he had taken to survive, and the number of souls sacrificed for the body-hopping magic, must not have been small.

Suppressing such criticisms in his mind, Turan gently patted Ridel on the shoulder with a soft expression.

Whatever Ridel’s true intentions might be, Turan figured it would be easier to hear the full story if he comforted him for now.

“All right, you made the right choice. Could you tell me what changed your mind? It might help me persuade the others too.”

“Honestly, I don’t think anyone else will be persuaded. Even after seeing ‘that’, none of them seemed to think the way I did...”

Ridel tried to sweep his face with a troubled look, but realizing his arms were bound in chains, he hunched his shoulders slightly instead.

“What do you mean by ‘that’?”

At Turan’s question, Ridel bit his lip for a moment, then slowly opened his mouth.

“That... is the truth. Proof of how this world is structured, and that the people here aren’t just some kind of virtual beings, but real humans no different from us.”