Translator: Pai_

Turan enjoyed flying until late at night before returning to the palace of the House Dirmin.

Since he was staying as a guest, it was proper etiquette to remain quiet and accept their hospitality for a few days.

Was it because he was a customer who helped them deal with a troublesome asset?

When he returned, he found that his lodging had been changed to a larger and more luxurious room.

There was even a small cushion-like nest set up next to it, which seemed to be a bedroom for the golden eagle.

“If you need anything, please call for us anytime, Master.”

After dismissing the servants with a casual gesture, Turan looked at the golden eagle, now lying in its designated sleeping area, and asked.

“Do you like it?”

The creature let out a small chirp, nodded its head, and seemed content.

Turan chuckled at the sight and lay down on his bed to get some sleep.

Thus, he spent a comfortable night, and the next day arrived.

The full-fledged letter teaching session between human and animal began.

The lesson took place in a small open area in front of the building where he was staying.

“Alright, try copying this.”

Turan wrote letters on the ground with a stick, and the golden eagle scratched the ground with its talons to mimic them.

Turan pointed out a few mistakes it made.

“This stroke should go downward, and here, you need to lift it as if you’re scratching upward.”

Although the golden eagle wasn’t exactly the brightest student, by human standards, it could easily be considered a genius among animals.

Watching the creature tilt its head and rewrite the letters over and over brought back old memories for Turan.

‘Was this what it was like when my mother taught me?’

In his childhood, his mother had used a similar method to teach him letters.

They didn’t have the means to create parchment processed from sheepskin in the small village they lived in, and there weren’t any other suitable materials available.

‘You remember so well, Turan. My son is really smart.’

He thought he had forgotten, but it was as if he could hear his mother’s voice echoing in his head.

Lost in these sentimental memories, Turan suddenly sensed someone approaching him.

“Are you teaching letters?”

“Yes.”

It was the family head’s daughter, wasn’t her name Irid?

A woman whose name he could barely remember was looking at him with a jealous expression.

Perhaps she didn’t like the idea of an animal that had ignored her was now obeying someone else.

And it probably annoyed her even more that the person in question was a fallen noble she had looked down upon.

“Do you know what golden eagles like?”

“I know that they eat animals, at least.”

“This one especially likes fish. Among them, the best are the horse mackerel caught in the sea right in front of this place.”

When Turan glanced at the golden eagle, it nodded its head.

Irid continued to list various things, from the bird’s favorite diet to the sleep it needed for its health, practical knowledge one would need to raise such a creature.

It was evident that she was well-versed in animals, likely due to her bloodline as a trainer.

"You're amazing. That was very helpful, thank you."

When Turan expressed his gratitude sincerely, the family head’s daughter flinched and then shook her head.

“I already have a fiancé.”

What was this woman suddenly talking about?

Turan paused, realizing that she had taken his compliment as some sort of romantic interest, and he chuckled.

Well, since she had a fiancé, at least there wouldn’t be any uncomfortable situations like those in the House Baltas in the past.

“I understand.”

He conveyed his understanding, but for some reason, she seemed even more displeased than before.

“Well, never mind that... Do you have any plans for lunch?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then would you care to join me for a meal? The other guests are all curious about you, Mr. Brahms. Of course, if you’re not interested, it can’t be helped.”

“The other guests are looking for me?”

“Yes. Anyone who has visited the breeding grounds has been curious at least once about this creature. Naturally, they’re wondering how extraordinary the person who became its master must be.”

It went without saying that Turan wasn’t the only traveling noble in the world.

It might be difficult to find a single noble in the remote frontier, but in most large cities, there are usually several nobles on pilgrimage or wandering journeys.

Even at the House Berg, where Turan had stayed in the past, a few of such nobles had come and gone. At that time, however, Turan did not get along well with them.

It was because he was envied for being close to Ashiz, the second son of the head of the house, who was greatly favored, even though Turan was merely a wanderer with no notable lineage.

Remembering those experiences, Turan considered refusing for a moment but soon changed his mind.

"Alright. Should we go right now?"

Currently, Turan was in a position where he needed to gather as much information as possible about the House Zahar.

For that reason, he could not afford to miss the opportunity to converse with other nobles.

*

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Turan Brahms.”

“Brahms? That’s a surname I’ve never heard of in these parts.”

“I heard he’s from the Carmine region?”

“Then isn’t that quite close to Arabion?”

The moment the last person finished speaking, everyone turned sharply toward him with icy gazes.

The family head’s daughter, Irid, coldly interjected.

“Let’s not associate our guest with those sparrow bastards."

“My apologies.”

The person who had spoken immediately bowed his head and apologized when the atmosphere grew tense and chilly in an instant.

While it didn’t seem like something one couldn’t mention, the strong disdain for Arabion in this region was evident.

As Turan exchanged greetings, he memorized the faces of the three nobles staying with the House Dirmin.

Two were relatively young, a man and a woman, and the other was a middle-aged man.

The young couple belonged to the House Gashuv, who had come from a nearby region on a pilgrimage that doubled as their honeymoon. The man was the heir to the house, and the woman was a distant branch member of the House Zahar.

The last person, like Turan’s disguise, was also a fallen noble.

“Dolph Merenio. Brahms-ssi. From the Fighter Bloodline, I see.”

The Fighter Bloodline, like the Guardian Bloodline, was specialized in close combat. While the Guardian Bloodline focused on defense, the Fighter Bloodline excelled in raw physical power.

"Nice to meet you."

As Turan extended his hand for a handshake, he felt the other’s grip tighten, prompting him to quickly activate the full power of the Guardian Magic Artifact.

As expected, an incredible grip strength crushed against his hand.

“As expected of the Guardian Bloodline, you’re sturdy. Though, for a Guardian, your grip strength seems lacking.”

Confirming that his own strength was superior, Dolph smiled smugly, a sense of superiority evident in his demeanor.

Rather than getting angry at such arrogance, Turan smiled as if it didn’t bother him at all.

“I haven’t trained much in that area.”

“Hah, well, it’s true that very few of us have inherited proper physical training methods. Still, judging by your physique, it doesn’t seem like you’ve done nothing at all.”

“I’ve put in some effort on my own.”

“You trained yourself to this extent? I envy the weak! No matter how big a boulder I lift, I barely feel any stimulus."

As Dolph said, while he had a solid frame, his build didn’t reflect rigorous training.

In fact, this was one of the main reasons most close-combat-focused bloodlines had declined.

The intense four-week intensive training Turan had completed in the past was only possible because he had a skilled teacher, specialized training magic artifacts, and the persistence and passion of a dedicated student.

If even one of those elements were missing, the training period would stretch from months to years. Most people lacked the patience to endure such prolonged and grueling regimens.

Moreover, the training itself was far more painful for those with naturally robust bodies compared to ordinary knights or people.

“Alright, we get it. You’re strong, so leave it at that. Where’s that golden eagle? I came here to see it.”

The lady from the House Gashuv bluntly interrupted, ignoring Dolph entirely.

Though Dolph’s face flushed with veins bulging in anger, he gritted his teeth and stepped back, suppressing his irritation.

After all, how could a mere fallen noble dare to confront a noble from a prestigious family?

Pretending not to notice, Turan calmly answered.

“I let it fly around nearby for a bit. It must’ve felt cooped up after practicing writing all morning. Should I call it?"

“Please do.”

At least the husband was being more polite in his request.

Turan extended his hand toward the sky and thought to himself, Come here.

As his thought traveled along the bond of the soul, it wasn’t long before the golden eagle came flying from afar.

“Wow, it’s real…”

The golden eagle perched on Turan’s arm, its sharp gaze sweeping over the nobles surrounding it. When the House Gashuv's Lady reached out as if to touch it, the eagle snapped its beak sharply in rejection.

Seeing this, the woman’s face twisted as she muttered under her breath.

“That damned birdbrain! What’s its problem with me? I could raise it so much better than that lowly fallen noble.”

Her arrogant and presumptuous attitude was beyond belief, utterly indifferent to the fact that the person she was insulting was standing right in front of her.

Turan had encountered many nobles from prestigious houses before, but none had displayed such blatant arrogance. It was so extreme that it almost felt refreshing, but certainly not in a good way.

The golden eagle, seemingly displeased by the insults, glared at her but didn’t make any move, perhaps recognizing the difference in power.

Turan could sense the eagle’s urge for revenge, as if asking him to retaliate on its behalf.

“Don’t say things like that, Silla. It’s rude.”

"What's rude about it? Did I say anything wrong?"

While the husband had some sense of decorum, he seemed entirely unable to control his wife’s reckless behavior, likely due to the difference in their temperaments and the gap in their family’s status.

In any case, even Irid, the heir of the House Dirmin and the host of this gathering, merely frowned at such insolence without attempting to intervene.

This alone was enough to gauge the level of influence the House Zahar wielded in the Enril Desert.

Despite the tense and chaotic atmosphere, the meal that followed was exquisite.

From spicy grilled chicken seasoned with imported spices from the East to lamb ribs mixed with herbs served with flatbread, along with steamed fish and crayfish, the course seemed to perfectly capture Komad’s blend of sea and desert cultures.

After the meal, they had tea and engaged in light conversation. It was Dolph who first brought up a topic of discussion.

“The western region has been quite noisy these days.”

“The west? Do you mean the Gray Zone?”

“Even farther west. The Dark Elves have been causing trouble, so the Arabion- no, I mean, the sparrows, have organized a large-scale subjugation force.”

It seemed that Dolph had lived near the area where the Dark Elves had risen up before moving to the Enril Desert, which was how he had heard of the events.

Turan quietly listened, hoping to catch some useful recent news.

“Do you know who’s leading them?”

“I heard it’s their heir, a young lady.”

“Oh, that skinny skeleton of a girl? What was her name again? Masa?”

“I heard it was Meredith.”

“If I’m not mistaken, her name is probably Meisa.”

It was a strange feeling for Turan to hear others talk about his friend, and to hear them speak so ill of her.

The four nobles, excluding Turan, went on to mock Meisa, calling her a hideous creature of skin and bones. They joked that any man who married her would have to tightly shut his eyes in the bedroom on their first night together.

"Couldn't we assassinate that bitch while we're at it?"

“Assassination? The House Zahar doesn’t stoop to such cowardly acts. Of course, it’s possible that a few nobles might happen to go on a pilgrimage to that area.”

“Well, that’s true, I suppose. Oh, but wouldn’t it be delightful to see the sparrows’ faces if that woman were to die…?”

The House Gashuv's Lady glanced at Turan and Dolph with a sly smirk, as if lying outright while taunting them at the same time.

In the midst of the conversation, the topic took an intriguing turn, right toward the subject Turan had been waiting for.

"Still, at least they have already chosen an heir, so it must be easier for them. We’ve been waiting for years for one out of three to be decided."

Judging by her lamenting tone, it seemed that, unlike House Arabion, House Zahar had no clearly designated heir.

Judging by how freely she spoke about it in front of fallen nobles, it didn’t seem to be much of a secret. However, this sort of information wasn’t something one would easily hear unless attending gatherings among the upper echelon.

Commoners or knights wouldn’t dare to casually discuss the affairs of nobles.

"May I ask the names of those three individuals?"

When Turan asked, the House Gashuv's Lady briefly made a face, as if the question was beneath her, but then answered willingly, seemingly eager to flaunt her knowledge and assert her superiority.

"There’s Rahman-nim, the family head’s cousin, Alma-nim, the fifth cousin's neice and Ferga-nim, the grandson. They’re all powerful nobles who made great contributions in the last war."

Her consistent use of honorifics for all three suggested that her own status within the House Zahar wasn’t particularly high, despite her airs.

After all, instead of bringing a husband into the family, she had been married off to another house.

In any case, it was a bit disappointing that the name Talis wasn’t among the three.

At that moment, Irid muttered in what seemed like a lamenting tone.

"It would’ve been better if Talis-nim had just been officially chosen."

The unexpected mention of the name caused Turan’s eyes to widen momentarily before he quickly struggled to calm himself.

He worried that the House Gashuv's Lady, with her Zahar bloodline, might pick up on the scent of someone suppressing strong emotions, a telltale sign of unease.

Managing to regain his composure, Turan casually asked a question.

"And who might Talis-nim be?"

Fortunately, his efforts to control his emotions seemed to work, as no one found his question suspicious.

"Talis-nim is the family head’s younger brother and the current second-in-command of House Zahar. You could say he's the one actually leading the family."

The identity of someone who resembled Turan was turning out to be far more significant than he had imagined.