Translator: Pai_

After extracting a few more useful pieces of information from Kim Woong, who had checked the prison, Turan bid him farewell and reconfirmed the current situation in the eastern region with Berit.

Unfortunately, the new information was not particularly welcome.

"The magical beast damage is quite severe. It's only natural since everyone goes out to fight whenever things seem to stabilize a bit......."

What the people of the distant Aravion land were going through was similar to what the people here were experiencing.

Moreover, the Land of the Five Lakes had one more important variable.

"The grassland nomads?"

"Yes. From what I heard, they used to periodically go south to weed out threatening tribes, but in recent years, due to a lack of manpower, they haven’t been able to do that."

"Is the damage severe?"

"It's still manageable for now, but who knows in a few more years."

"It won't take that long."

Turan swallowed the words "probably" in his mind.

The conclusion came down to whether they could crush the main forces of Aravion and Zahar and capture the souls of the gods ruling them.

If they could manage that, it would effectively mean completely depleting the enemy’s combat capabilities.

Even if the Monarch tried something sneaky, what could he do without a powerful body?

"Is Sol doing well? I haven’t seen him in so long, I’m worried."

Solif was currently commanding a unit defending against Zahar’s attacks along with the Varaha army.

He had passed through that area earlier today but hadn’t met because he was busy dealing with the matter concerning the turncoat Kim Woong.

Afterward, Turan received a letter to deliver to Solif later and crossed back over to Kalamaf.

When he announced that the emergency had passed, those who had returned began to resume their original duties.

When Ashiz came looking for him and asked what had happened, Turan briefly explained the recent events.

"Ha......."

After hearing even the part Turan hadn’t previously explained, that the essence of the gods was no more than humans who enjoyed some form of entertainment, Ashiz was so shocked that his mouth hung open as if he might start foaming.

"Seriously, if I hadn’t already heard from you that you actually crossed over into that world, I really would’ve doubted myself. That’s......."

"A horrifying story."

There weren’t many who could readily accept the notion that they weren’t real existing humans, but mere playthings in a world someone created for amusement.

Only truly foolish people would be unaffected due to their inability to comprehend the shock, while those who realized how miserable it was would likely go half mad.

People like Turan, who could sense the truth yet suppress all doubt and fear, were rare.

"Keeping it secret all this time was the right choice. More importantly... then, what do you plan to do after the battle?"

"Do you want me to conquer that world too?"

At Turan’s question, Ashiz let out a low groan.

"Not necessarily, but since it’s a world far more advanced than ours... if it has a long history and a large population, there must be plenty of high-quality plays, right?"

"You still go to the theater these days?"

"I haven’t had time in quite a while. Once this fight is over, I want to do nothing and rest for a while. Give me a vacation."

"We can go together for the first time in a while."

Their chuckles and jokes lasted only a moment before Turan stiffened his face and spoke seriously.

"Things like exchange with that world can only be considered after we win the battle. It's too early to talk about that now."

"Yeah, I was being too hasty."

At Ashiz’s apology, Turan shook his head, saying there was no need to apologize.

"I already got the report yesterday, but there’s no unusual situation in the northwest, right?"

"Yeah. Since they’ve started moving again, it looks like Badal’s injury has improved somewhat. Probably not fully recovered yet, though."

"That makes sense."

Family heads of great noble houses, beings with transcendent magic power, were difficult to heal without comparably powerful healing magic.

The only ones capable of healing him were the highest-ranking nobles of Lavitas or Osel, both of whom were on Turan’s side. So it was likely that dozens of healers from Aravion and Nagin had attempted inefficient treatments.

Considering his body was already quite aged, there was also a high possibility that he hadn't recovered to a satisfying degree despite all that effort.

Then one might think, wouldn’t it have been better to attack right when Badal was injured...?

'If we had gone up to attack then, they probably would have retreated.'

Given that the movement speed of the Aravion and Parsha armies wasn’t significantly different, it would have been difficult to pursue them before they returned to the capital.

And if Turan and a small special forces unit had launched a surprise attack, they might have ended up surrounded just like in the Axum incident.

Previously, they had carried out a one-sided assault against the House Ruvan army because those troops were specialized in close combat, but such a tactic would not work as easily against enemies capable of long-range attacks.

“Well then... I’ll be back.”

“Stay strong.”

Turan bumped fists lightly with Ashiz and turned his body.

The direction he was facing was west.

*

By the time the army of House Parsha, which had departed from Kalamaf, arrived at the scheduled destination, it was late evening.

Already accustomed to the march over several days, they skillfully set up light sources and tents around them.

“Ah, I’m so tired.......”

“I wish we’d just fight already.”

“Right? None of the wars we fought before involved this kind of stuff.”

When conquering Varaha or Ruvan, they had always placed a jade mirror near the enemy lines and launched an instant surprise attack via spatial transfer. As such, the Parsha army was not used to these prolonged marches to seek out the enemy.

Two knights, grumbling as they erected tent poles, glanced at a large tent set up some distance away.

“Is that where she’s staying?”

“Probably.”

“Should we call her lady of the house...?”

“Well, she’s not officially his partner yet, so I don’t think we can.”

Meisa Aravion.

Originally the heir of Aravion, she had fled the family and founded House Parsha together with Turan.

Her position within House Parsha was quite ambiguous.

Although she was the lord’s lover, she wasn’t officially a partner or concubine, and she was even the daughter of the head of an enemy faction.

Considering Berit, who was in a somewhat similar situation, had actually taken hold of power in Varaha as Solif’s fiancee, it was almost absurd.

“Well, I’m sure the lord has his reasons.”

“Hey, that makes it sound like I’m the only one who doesn’t trust him... Honestly, though, I do worry a bit.”

“Because we’re fighting Aravion, and the commander of our army is originally from Aravion?”

“You didn’t have to say it so bluntly.”

Why Meisa had defected from her family wasn’t exactly common knowledge.

More precisely, those on the Aravion side who needed to know were aware, but many within House Parsha didn’t know.

Even though being abused by her family since childhood wasn’t exactly a sin or a shameful thing, it also wasn’t something one would go around boasting about.

“And lately, we barely even see her.”

“I heard she got a horrible scar on her face from one of those filthy Zahar curses.......”

Since she stopped appearing in public a while ago, rumors surrounding Meisa had been numerous.

As just mentioned, rumors said she had a terrible scar on her face, or that she had suffered a grievous wound even the lord of Lavitas couldn’t heal.

Even on this expedition, from the moment they left Kalamaf to every rest stop along the way, she had never stepped out of the large carriage, only fueling the rumors further.

Of course, these were intentionally planted lies by the upper echelon of House Parsha.

Thanks to that, although there were indeed some whispers that she might be pregnant, they were drowned out by the other rumors.

The woman at the center of these countless rumors, Meisa, entered the tent directly connected to the large carriage and immediately collapsed onto the bed.

“Haah.......”

“Shall I bring you bathwater?”

“Not today. I’m tired from carriage sickness, so I’ll just rest.”

“Yes.”

Meisa, seeing the maid bow politely, let out a soft groan and rubbed the corners of her eyes.

It was merely from having been in a carriage for a long time, yet she was utterly exhausted.

It was probably because her due date was approaching.

Thanks to the knowledge she had learned from Rida, she knew in advance that the current symptoms were the result of her body strengthening through magic weakening, which was a relief.

If not for that, she would have been completely bewildered.

Even in this condition, she had joined the expedition instead of staying in Kalamaf because she had calculated that this would actually be safer.

Unlike the expedition, which included dozens of nobles and over a thousand knights, only a few non-combat-bloodline nobles and about fifty knights in charge of maintaining order had remained in Kalamaf.

If, by any chance, an assassin from Zahar were to attack, at least here she could use these people as a shield to fight.

‘To think I still have to worry about this even here... am I truly unable to escape them for the rest of my life?’

Since childhood, Meisa had lived constantly feeling the wretched gaze and traces of unseen assassins.

Still, she couldn’t say she wished the Zahar bloodline would disappear.

After all, the man she loved, a fairly close friend, and even the child sleeping in her womb had inherited that blood.

‘I wish Rida-nim had come with me.’

As she lay alone, having sent the maids to the front section of the tent, the thought suddenly crossed her mind.

A subtle feeling of not wanting her space invaded by others, yet also not wanting to be alone.

But Rida was likely busy at that very moment, deep in the underground of Kalamaf, researching the secrets of soul magic and soul chains.

All the more so after recently achieving remarkable success.

As Meisa lay in bed and let her fatigue dissipate for a while, she noticed that the area outside the tent was growing noisy.

“What is that?”

She considered stepping outside but had to abandon the thought when she remembered her swollen belly.

Hadn’t her father, Badal, himself nearly been assassinated recently after carelessly stepping out in such a situation?

It would’ve been better if he had just died then.

Just as she entertained such a dark thought for a moment, she heard a familiar word amidst the chatter of the people outside.

“......It’s an honor, Family Head!”

The moment she heard the word 'Family Head', her heart began to race.

As she had anticipated, the one who entered the tent was the person Meisa loved the most, and the one who loved her the most in return.

Turan Parsha.

The head of House Parsha and her partner, looked at her with a smile, though with a faintly apologetic expression.

Perhaps from moving around so much, his signature ash-gray hair was noticeably tousled.

“Sorry, I’m a bit late.”

“I also only arrived this evening. Did things go well?”

“Mm, to some extent.”

Turan, replying with a subtle tone, sat beside her and began recounting the story he had earlier told Ashiz.

The collapsed Tomb of the Gods, the massacred people of Banifel City, the turncoat from Zahar and the reasons behind his betrayal, everything.

“Ah.......”

“It seems that what they want is your body, because they need the strength to fight the people of that world. Especially now, since Badal’s life is nearing its end.”

On top of that, it was also likely to manage the bloodline of the so-called “new humanity” who would rule Earth.

If they wished to maintain an overwhelming advantage over ordinary people, they would need to continue producing strong individuals with family-head-level bloodlines.

“I see.”

Unlike Ashiz, Meisa showed little interest in the gods’ world, Earth.

Instead, she was far more curious about what had happened to Badal, and whether there was a strategy to defeat Monarch and the rest of the enemy.

To Meisa now, the most important thing was to cultivate a world in which the child she would soon give birth to could live.

And in that sense, Turan had brought a very fine gift for himself and his partner.

“You’re going to strengthen the child’s soul now?”

“Yeah. I used to think it would be more stable to do it after birth... but I came across new information this time. It turns out it’s better to do it while the child is still in the womb. And the sooner, the better.”

Originally, Turan had learned various applications of soul magic through the prisoners of the Spirit Form Prison, but this time he had obtained another method through Kim Woong, who had surrendered from Zahar.

To put it simply, it was a kind of foundational procedure that would make later soul magic treatments easier.

Considering that House Carmine had constantly opposed Monarch, and that Varaha and Ruvan had focused on exploiting soul manipulation techniques as half-elves, the vision of Zahar, who had cooperated with the Monarch and had received many of the soul magic techniques, was quite profound.

However, upon hearing this, Meisa showed more concern than joy and asked,

“Is there any chance something might go wrong or it could be a trap?”

“It’s not a complicated technique, so there’s no need to worry about that.”

Turan briefly explained the soul magic technique he had just learned.

As she already knew, using another Spirit Form as a power source to manipulate the fetus’s soul was the same, but the difference lay only in some specific details.

Things like the golden balance ratio for shaping the soul vessel and its form, which Haroon had taught him before, or the idea that it was more advantageous to widen the vessel at a younger age, just minor aspects.

He had even double-checked the zones where over-expanding the vessel could lead to miscarriage.

After hearing everything, Meisa eventually nodded.

She, too, had been born a wizard in this land, and naturally wished to pass on better talents to her child if possible.

“But doesn’t soul magic enhancement require a soul?”

“This is just a basic procedure, so one soul’s worth should be enough. And conveniently, I have just the thing ready.”

“Cadrum?”

“That’s right.”

The half-elves would have to be dealt with eventually, but since they were still cooperative, Turan wanted to make further use of them. And as allies, he might have to demonstrate that the Spirit Forms from Carmine were still intact.

By contrast, Cadrum was still lying dismembered and asleep in the prison, aside from the single soul fragment Turan had consumed.

Perhaps even for Cadrum, this would be a better conclusion.

Rather than remaining an eternal spiritual corpse imprisoned forever, it was better to scatter into the sea of Spirit Forms and be reborn anew.

“Is there anything I need to do?”

“Just stay still. Let’s lift your upper garment a bit.”

Turan lifted the part of Meisa’s clothing that covered her belly and placed his hand there.

With the activation of Spiritual Perception, the Spirit Form that soon emerged from his body sensed the small life growing inside her swollen belly.

[Hello.]

To the child who had yet to open Spiritual Perception, whose very physical senses had not yet awakened, Turan softly greeted.

And then, slowly, he examined the child’s Spirit Form, still undeveloped, not even as formed as that of a regular human, let alone a soul magic practitioner.

Carefully, Turan moved the Spirit Form and opened the immature shell of the child’s soul to inspect its interior.

It was a fine adjustment that could only be performed now, before birth, before the Spirit Form matured and made such access impossible.

‘Just as I thought.......’

Using the method he had learned earlier, Turan assessed the child’s Spirit Form and clicked his tongue at the result.

The talents of the child, still without even a name, were astounding.

In magical ability, roughly estimated to be just slightly below Solif.

In terms of bloodline, it had three: Meisa’s Storm Bloodline, and Turan’s Hunter Bloodline, two from him.

The limit of magic power was already enough to exceed that of the highest-ranking nobles, even without any special treatment, just about enough to reach the toes of family heads.

Considering this was a pure soul untouched by any spiritual manipulation, it was a truly astonishing result.

Usually, the upper limits of raw talent without spiritual adjustment would fall slightly below Solif, and total magic power would be several times that of a top noble, putting it in the lower range among great house family heads.

The representative example of such a level was none other than the current Lavitas family head, Osel.

To an average wizard, this would still appear unimaginably powerful, yet in truth, among the family heads of the great noble houses, it was only considered the weakest tier.

And now, their first child was already born with talents at that same level, even without any adjustments.

‘At this level... maybe I don’t even need to take the risk of making further modifications now.......’

The thought crossed his mind for a moment, but Turan soon shook his head and began the adjustment.

At the very least, he wished for the child to possess skills comparable to his own, so they wouldn’t feel inferior.

From the mutilated Spirit Form of Cadrum, which had been prepared in advance, power began to flow out, and the child’s Spirit Form began to undergo refinement.

The vessel was widened slightly more, the substance to fill the vessel made more substantial, the structure rearranged for greater balance...

Though it was his first attempt, Turan, who could already be called an adept of soul magic, executed the procedure with no wasteful effort.

A short while later, once only the shell of Cadrum’s Spirit Form remained, Turan dispersed it and returned to his physical body.

Having overexerted his soul energy for the first time in a while, cold sweat poured down his body.

“Is it done?”

“Yeah. It was a success.”

Meisa, who had been lying still, finally let out a deep breath as if relieved.

Even with the reassurance of safety, the worry that something might go wrong lingered, likely because she was a mother.

“The result?”

“Very successful. It’s hard to believe it only cost the soul of one god.”

Of course, Cadrum’s soul, befitting a monster aged thousands of years, amounted to the equivalent of several great wizards combined.

But what made such a result possible was fundamentally the immense potential of the child’s soul.

Hadn’t the Phoenix said it before?

To raise a normal soul with no potential to Meisa’s level, one would have to grind down a third of the world’s population.

Yet Turan, without such a sacrifice, achieved the same result by using only the life of a single villain.

Unless something went terribly wrong, the child would one day reach the realm of transcendent beings, just like them.

*****

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