Translator: Pai_

Even after Meisa and the Dark Elf subjugation team departed, Turan's daily life did not change much.

He worked on building his body with Haram, practiced weapon skills and martial arts, rested, and trained in magic...

The only difference was that he no longer had a companion to train magic with during the evenings.

Because of that, the evenings felt a bit lonelier.

Thus passed four weeks and two days since Turan had stayed at the House Berg.

In the highest floor of the mansion, amidst a chaotic workshop cluttered with various magic artifacts, Ashiz's older brother, Melo, handed an item to Turan.

Due to having locked himself up for the past month to create it, Melo's face looked gaunt.

"Here it is."

The magic artifact was in the form of a bracelet, made by braiding several long, thin leather straps like a plait, and wrapping them with a layer of dull blue metal.

This metal was said to originate from a mountainous region in the East and was a material known for its ability to hold magical energy more easily.

"Just wearing it slightly increases physical durability, and if you inject magic power, the enhancement becomes even greater. Ultimately, it can reach a level comparable to nobles with the Guardian Bloodline, but the magic consumption is severe, so it’s best not to maintain it for too long."

"This is... truly an incredible treasure."

Considering that most magic artifacts capable of replicating bloodline abilities often had restrictions like a limited number of uses per day, its performance was indeed extraordinary.

At Turan's words of admiration, Melo smiled proudly, full of confidence.

"You probably won’t find an artifact like this even among the great houses. It turned out particularly well."

The quality of a magic artifact depends significantly on the skill of the craftsman and the time invested in its creation. Yet, even with the same skill and time, the final product could vary.

Among such variations, this artifact was a masterpiece, the kind of item that might have been offered to someone as high-ranking as the head of House Arabion. Melo emphasized this several times, boasting about the item he had created, before adding one last comment.

"Ashiz may be a dim-witted, foolish guy, but he's still my little brother. I couldn’t neglect repaying his gratitude properly."

Due to his initial impression of Ashiz, Turan had thought of Melo as a cold-hearted person. But it seemed Melo was also a loving older brother in his own way.

After receiving the magic artifact and expressing his thanks, Turan then went to see the head of House Berg, Midella.

As expected, she asked if Turan would formally join their house before saying goodbye.

“I’m truly grateful for the offer, but I’m afraid it would be difficult.”

“I thought so…”

Surprisingly, Midella did not persistently repeat the proposal. Instead, she accepted his answer without much resistance.

Her next words revealed the reason why.

“In fact, I already heard from Ashiz. He said you are someone with much to accomplish, making it hard for you to settle down here. Even though I knew it wouldn’t work, I still brought it up. Consider it the lingering hope of an old woman.”

It seemed Ashiz had already hinted at this to the family head in advance.

Turan bowed politely and expressed his gratitude.

"I will not forget the hospitality I received from you. Ashiz and House Berg will always be my friends."

"That’s enough for me."

Although she had expected his answer, it seemed she could not completely hide her disappointment, as a faint trace of sadness appeared on Midella's face.

After the conversation, other members of House Berg, especially those who had grown close to Turan, were waiting for him.

“Take this.”

Haram abruptly handed over a dagger.

It was of a size that could be conveniently carried as a utility tool in daily life, yet it could also serve as a weapon if necessary.

“It’s a magic artifact. It doesn’t have any extraordinary features, but it’s sturdy and keeps its edge well.”

Though it was not particularly valuable as a magic artifact, barely better than the magical lamps scattered throughout House Berg, it was still an exceptional gift for a disciple he had taught for only a few weeks.

“…Thank you.”

Turan understood why Haram had gone out of his way to take care of him like this.

Among the nobles who largely disdained hand-to-hand combat, Turan was the only one who had faithfully absorbed the teachings that Haram had pursued his entire life.

Out of respect, Turan used a title he didn’t normally employ.

“Master.”

Haram twitched his lips slightly, then immediately turned his head and walked away.

Perhaps he didn’t want to show an expression he couldn’t control.

Next, Ashiz approached with a bright smile, holding out a set of well-prepared clothes - a shirt, pants, and a cloak.

The clothes seemed comfortable to wear, made from durable materials with no unnecessary embellishments.

“What’s this?”

“You said you envied my clothes before, remember? I took the time here and there to prepare these. They don’t get dirty easily, and minor tears will fix themselves.”

Turan now understood what Ashiz had meant a few days ago when he said it was a good thing he had gotten things ready in advance.

Given that Ashiz often spent his afternoons with Turan, going out to see plays or other such activities, he must have prepared these in the mornings or evenings whenever he had spare time.

Realizing the effort and care behind this gift, Turan found it difficult to immediately express his gratitude.

“Ashiz…”

“You’re a good friend, Turan. Not just because you saved my life, but because watching how you live has made me think a lot.”

Ashiz confessed his honest feelings to Turan.

At first, he had harbored a secret envy for Turan’s exceptional talent. But he had also been deeply impressed by the way Turan, despite his talents, never wasted time and constantly worked to improve himself.

Ashiz admitted that he had realized how lazily he had been living his own life. He added that, starting with making these clothes, he planned to dedicate himself once again to mastering the art of crafting magic artifacts.

“And when the Dark Elf situation calms down, I’ll go on another pilgrimage. This time, to safer places.”

Turan nodded and mentioned another of Ashiz’s friends.

“When you leave again, don’t forget to take Tilly with you.”

“Of course!”

Tilly, the magical beast, was as intelligent as most humans and strong enough to rival a noble.

Unless Ashiz faced another extreme situation, he would likely not find himself in danger again.

“So, where do you plan to go now?”

“First, to the east.”

“Carmine?”

“Yeah.”

If you traveled eastward from the Takein Plains, you’d eventually arrive at the port city governed by the House Carmine. Though smaller than the Houses Arabion or Zahar, it was a great house with a long history and formidable strength, known for its bloodline abilities that controlled water and ice.

“I’ve been there once before. If possible, don’t board a ship. I got curious and tried it once, those waves are an absolute nightmare.”

At Ashiz’s warning, Turan chuckled and shook his head.

Unfortunately, Turan had no choice but to board a ship and face those waves.

His destination was the lands of Zahar in the Enril Desert, far to the southeast across the sea.

“Well, you’re no kid, actually, you are a kid, but you’re still more mature than I am, so I’m sure you’ll manage. Stay safe. Don’t die.”

“Alright.”

After sharing a final embrace with Ashiz, Turan stepped out of the mansion.

It was now truly time to leave the cradle.

* * *

As Turan left the Zabilin city, he felt the chilly autumn wind wrap around his face.

The golden wheat fields of the Takein Plains, which had once stretched endlessly, had already been harvested, leaving only the stubble behind.

When he first descended into the world, it had been late summer. Now, winter was just around the corner.

Running eastward, Turan used the breathing techniques he had learned from Haram, techniques suited for long-distance running.

Exhale twice in rhythm with his steps, then inhale twice.

With the strength in his much-thicker thighs, it felt as though the ground itself pushed back to propel him forward.

The speed he achieved was incredible, beyond the reach of even nobles from Arabion who could fly or those with similar movement-related bloodline abilities.

Travelers and patrolling wizards crossing the plains caught glimpses of Turan but didn’t dare approach to ask who he was.

After running for half a day, Turan paused to rest, then began running again.

By the time evening arrived, Turan stopped and prepared a meal using the hardtack, jerky, and a few dried vegetables he had brought along, boiling them into a porridge.

He had been worried that his palate might have grown too accustomed to luxurious food, but fortunately, the simple travel food suited him well enough, even after such a long time.

After filling his stomach sufficiently, he lay down in the middle of the plains, covering himself with his cloak, and for some reason, he started laughing.

It hit him that, just like when he had first descended the hill, he was once again a wanderer without a single place to call home.

But what was different this time was that Turan’s heart was no longer as empty as it had been back then.

The friends he had made, the mentors who had taught him so much…

Just those things alone made his journey to this world worthwhile.

With such thoughts, he passed his days and nights, running for two days straight.

Finally, the vast plains under Arabion's control came to an end, revealing several rugged mountain peaks and the dense forest that covered them.

The area resembled the region where Turan had previously encountered the Dark Elves, it was under the influence of Arabion but not formally governed by them.

Turan first activated Detection Magic, which he had nearly sealed away since entering Arabion's territory, to search for magical beasts.

He scanned for traces of creatures far larger than their common counterparts, using wolves, deer, wildcats, and raccoons as references.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for him to locate a target.

‘A wild boar.’

Following the traces, Turan found the magical beast pacing around angrily, snorting heavily.

Its tusks were unusually long, likely specialized for impaling its enemies.

When Turan shouted, "Hey!" the boar whipped its head around and, in a rage, charged straight at him.

[Kwaaeeek!]

Observing the charging boar carefully, Turan cast a spell to accelerate his thoughts.

In an instant, the world around him slowed down.

With precise timing, he sidestepped the boar’s trajectory with a single step and, from the side, drove his dagger straight into its brain. The magical beast collapsed on the spot.

‘So this is how it feels.’

In his sparring matches with Haram, he had always been on the receiving end of a beating, so he had never realized. But hunting with his body like this was actually quite fun.

Of course, the boar wasn’t much of a challenge, it could have been killed with a single throw of a stone.

Still, Turan needed funds for his upcoming sea voyage. After absorbing the magical power from the dead boar, though, as expected, it was nothing significant, he butchered it and skinned the hide.

With a bit of time, he could have handed it to a tanner or, if not, sold it whole. Either way, it would fetch a decent price.

"Ugh."

The unexpected issue was the sheer size of the hide, it was as large as a person, making it inconvenient to carry around.

Though Turan’s strength was more than sufficient, balancing the hide required both hands, and its bulk obscured his vision, which was frustrating.

Thus, rather than carrying it all the way to the port city as he had initially planned, Turan detoured to a fairly large nearby village and sold the hide there.

Selling something that was so clearly from a magical beast caused a bit of a commotion, but Turan managed to get rid of the cumbersome load and earn twenty gold coins in return.

With his burden lightened, Turan ran non-stop for two more days, passing through two cities along the way. By then, he estimated that he wasn’t far from the territory of House Carmine.

It was then that a strange scent caught Turan’s nose.

‘Hmm?’

At first, it was the smell of ashes left after a fire.

If that were all, he could have assumed it was just from a passing traveler’s campfire, but the intensity of the smell was overwhelming.

If this was a campfire, it would have taken dozens of trees to produce such a smell.

Moreover, it wasn’t just the smell of burning vegetation, there was the stench of burnt animal flesh as well, making Turan wonder if it could have been a forest fire. But as he approached, he found something far more horrifying than he had anticipated.

“This is…”

Inside a half-burned and collapsed wooden stockade lay the ruins of what appeared to have been a typical village.

Could this have been the result of a magical beast attack?

As Turan ventured further inside, he quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

In the village square, he found charred corpses tied tightly together.

This was undoubtedly the work of humans or a similarly intelligent race driven by malice.

‘I haven’t heard any reports about Dark Elves advancing this far.’

If that were the case, Ashiz, knowing Turan was heading east, would have certainly warned him about it.

As Turan pondered how to make sense of the chaos before him, he detected a faint trace of a living person’s scent through the stench.

Sweat, tears, urine…

‘Here?’

Following the trail, Turan found a hidden attic door beneath a table inside one of the half-burned wooden houses.

The door was bolted shut, but Turan ripped it open with brute strength,

“Kyaaah!”

A piercing scream erupted as a young girl scrambled backward in fear.

She looked no older than eight or nine years old.

Her clothes were filthy, and soot had darkened her face, save for the pale streaks left by her tears.

“Calm down. I’m not your enemy. I’m here to help.”

The trembling girl, still shaking with fear, gasped for breath and finally asked after hearing Turan repeat himself several times.

“Really…?”

“Yes. Do you know what happened to this village?”

“E-Everyone died. That wizard-”

“Wizard?”

“Yes…”

At that, the girl collapsed, unable to continue.

She had likely been trapped in the basement for a long time, both her body and mind completely exhausted.

Turan carefully picked her up and carried her out of the basement.

For now, he decided, he would feed her well, let her rest, and then take her to a nearby village…

“Found him!”

Surrounding the entrance of the wooden house in a half-circle were four men and women.

Among them, the woman who appeared to be their leader aimed a white, ice-like bow at Turan and shouted.

“Get on your knees, you murderer!”