Translator: Pai_

After the meeting ended and he returned to his quarters, Turan stroked the head of the golden eagle, lost in thought.

The second-in-command of House Zahar, and a person so resembling Turan that the head of the House, Karl, was reminded of him at a glance...

For now, this wasn’t someone he could simply go and confront.

Being the second-in-command of a great noble house meant that he was an even more powerful wizard than Meisa.

If Turan was a stain that needed to be erased or something similar in that person’s eyes, then the moment his existence was discovered, he would undoubtedly be crushed like an insect and killed.

‘Still... it’s not bad that I’ve secured at least one clear lead.’

At the very least, once he grew stronger than he was now, he would have someone to seek out and question.

There was no need to rush.

He was still too young, even as a wizard, practically a child, and he had plenty of time.

In the days that followed, Turan continued to spend his time at the Dirmin Palace.

It was only polite to stay for a few days after being entertained as a guest.

Teaching the golden eagle to read and write turned out to be quite enjoyable, and time passed quickly.

“I am a golden eagle.”

[ I am a golden eagle ]

“Good, you wrote that well.”

[ Good wrote that well ]

“I didn’t mean for you to copy me word for word. Also, you made a mistake.”

By the third day, the golden eagle had finally learned how to compose sentences using letters.

It still frequently made mistakes when writing longer sentences, but even at this level, it was better than most uneducated rural folks.

“Have you decided on a name?”

[ Not yet ]

“Hopefully, ‘Not Yet’ isn’t going to be your name, right?”

Instead of replying in writing, the golden eagle shook its head side to side, as if to say 'stop making lame jokes'.

Turan chuckled briefly at the sight but soon adopted a serious expression and asked a question.

“Then can you tell me now? Why did you choose me?”

The golden eagle tilted its head in thought before slowly writing on the ground.

It looked like a person carefully picking their words.

[You gud your inside me match perfect]

“Were you trying to say ‘good’ just now?”

When Turan pronounced the word and wrote it on the ground, the golden eagle clacked its beak with a sharp sound and nodded.

“And the rest is mostly wrong too. You’ve got a lot more to learn.”

As Turan watched the golden eagle droop in disappointment, he analyzed what it had just said.

Normally, a wizard’s spiritual bond with a magical beast had certain limits.

The limit depended on the wizard’s magic power, meaning that if someone bonded with stronger or more magical beasts, they would eventually be unable to bond with any more.

If such restrictions didn’t exist, tamers would have long since dominated the world by bonding with hundreds or thousands of magical beasts.

However, there were some problems with the idea that Turan’s bonding limit was simply unusually high.

First, the fact that a successor of a great noble house had once come to see this golden eagle.

There was no way that someone of such standing had less magic power than Turan.

Moreover, though the eagle had escaped before, it had also been sold once, implying that it had bonded with someone back then as well.

In other words, there was something beyond just a bonding limit at play here.

Perhaps it had something to do with his innate nature, a result of a mixed bloodline combining that of House Zahar with another family…

Even after explaining this theory, it seemed that the golden eagle itself didn’t fully understand what it meant by 'perfect match'.

While they were in the midst of this discussion, a loud, ringing laugh sounded from behind them.

“Hey, Turan! What are you doing in the yard with that bird, acting all pathetic?”

Since the first meeting, the Gashuv couple seemed to have dismissed Turan as a mere nobody with some good luck, losing interest in him entirely.

But unlike them, the fallen noble Dolph Merenio began to bother Turan more often, acting overly familiar and even visiting his quarters.

If Dolph had merely come to hang out, Turan could have dealt with him casually and sent him away. But Dolph seized every opportunity to suggest they strengthen their camaraderie as "fellow nobles with physical prowess", often trying to force physical challenges on Turan.

It was obvious that Dolph wasn’t interested in genuine friendship. He merely wanted to assert his superiority in areas where he excelled, taking pleasure in lording over Turan.

Regardless, Turan was determined to end this tiresome association today.

As he stood up and turned to face Dolph, the man tilted his head, puzzled by Turan’s outfit.

“Hmm? Are you heading out somewhere?”

Turan had dressed himself fully, donning the long, white traditional robe worn by the locals of the region. A bag hung at his side, and attached to the bag was a long metal rod. Perched atop the rod, the golden eagle glared sharply at Dolph.

“I’m leaving today.”

“Where are you planning to go?”

“Just planning to wander around the desert here and there.”

“You could’ve said something before leaving! I thought we were closer than that.”

Turan’s expression made it clear he didn’t want to engage in further conversation, but Dolph ignored the obvious hint and continued acting overly familiar.

“I was actually thinking of leaving soon myself. You don’t need a guide, do you? I know this area like the back of my hand.”

“No, thank you.”

Having a noble guide would certainly be luxurious, but traveling with that fellow would probably kill him from frustration.

Unexpectedly, Dolph nodded agreeably at Turan’s rejection.

“That’s unfortunate. But if you change your mind, let me know!”

Although Dolph’s unusually easygoing farewell left Turan feeling suspicious, he decided to leave it at that. At least he had successfully shaken the man off for now.

After informing Head Karl that he would be departing, Turan exited the palace. Two knights followed him, intending to escort him on his way.

Instead of leaving Komad right away, Turan asked one of the knights who had come to escort and monitor him.

“Can you show me where I can buy books?”

"Yes, my lord."

The largest bookstore in Komad was located near the harbor. Since books were expensive items, guards were stationed at the entrance.

One of the guards froze upon seeing Turan approach, accompanied by two knights and carrying a large golden eagle on his side.

“Uh… uh…”

“I’m going in.”

Turan said, brushing past the flustered guard and entering the bookstore.

Inside, he briefly conversed with the bookstore’s owner, a middle-aged woman, and purchased two books. One was a travel guide and manual for desert travelers, and the other was a religious text about the Enril region.

He paid for the new books by trading two books he had previously purchased in Abacha.

As Turan stepped out of the bookstore with the two new books in hand, he frowned slightly as he glanced off to one side.

Among the people who appeared to him as fragile flickers of flame, he saw a single figure burning brightly, like a roaring blaze.

*

Turan left Komad City behind, feeling the cold winter desert wind against his face, and opened one of the books he had just purchased.

'A guidebook for desert travelers', written by Britso Zahar.

Reading the dedication to the patron, always one of the most important parts of any book, Turan learned that the author was a knight of House Zahar who had written the book with the direct support of his family.

‘It would’ve been nice if it came with a proper map... but this isn’t bad either.’

If Turan didn’t want to be suspected as a spy, there was no way a fallen noble like him could request an internal map of a great noble house.

Even the map Keorn had drawn for him was nothing more than a rough sketch, indicating the general locations of great noble houses within certain regions without accurately portraying the terrain.

After reading through much of the travel guide, Turan decided to head to Vanipel, a city located to the southwest of Komad.

The book mentioned that the ruins of the ancient empire could be found there.

If he was lucky enough to encounter someone like the librarian or historian, that would be ideal. Even if not, it still seemed like it could be an interesting sightseeing destination.

“Well then, shall we head off?”

Muttering to himself, Turan glanced down briefly at the golden eagle. Instead of riding it, he lightly stroked its head and began walking on foot.

The golden eagle tilted its head as if to ask why Turan wasn’t riding it, but it seemed content enough hanging from the bag. It tucked its neck in and closed its eyes, finding the arrangement not too uncomfortable.

Walking through the desert, Turan realized something: unlike the barren, sand-filled world often depicted in travelogues he had read before, the desert was not entirely lifeless.

As Turan walked, he often encountered areas scattered with rocks and gravel, which reminded him of the wilderness below Hisaril Hill, his homeland.

When he focused his awareness using the power of the Sacred Relic, he could sense that even in such desolate landscapes, flames of life were flickering.

After all, a truly barren region where no life could survive would not be a place where a great noble house could establish itself.

Animals needed to thrive for magical beasts to be born in abundance, and it was by feeding on these magical beasts that powerful wizards could be nurtured.

Using the power of the Sacred Relic, Turan identified magical beasts among the creatures roaming nearby and immediately sent the golden eagle to hunt.

The eagle shot through the air like an arrow and snatched up a large rabbit with gray fur.

'Of all things, a rabbit magical beast.'

Fortunately, unlike the rabbit that had massacred beast hunters in the past, this one was not a particularly strong magical beast and had no chance to retaliate.

Its magic power was weak, so it wasn’t of much help for growth, but the golden eagle seemed to enjoy the act of hunting itself. It tore the rabbit apart, devoured the meat, and chirped excitedly.

Turan opened the lid of his water bottle, poured out some water, and used it to wash the blood off the eagle’s feet.

After walking for a few more hours, Turan eventually discovered a lush area that stood in stark contrast to the barrenness of the desert.

It was a large oasis surrounded by a small forest and grassland, sustained by the water it had absorbed.

According to the travel guide, there were thousands of such oases scattered throughout the Enril Desert, and nomadic tribes used them as their bases.

Even now, dozens of tents were spread out around this particular oasis, and sheep with leashes tied to them were lounging nearby, resting.

Though they lived in a different region, these people were shepherds just like Turan had once been.

“I’m a traveler passing through. Would it be possible for me to rest here for a while?”

At first, the nomadic tribe was wary of Turan’s visit, but when they saw that he was alone, with no substantial weapons other than the large golden eagle at his side, their suspicions eased.

A forearm-length dagger strapped to his back was considered more of a tool than a weapon.

“You’re welcome here, traveler. May the hospitality I offer return to me in kind. But is that golden eagle of yours a magical beast by any chance?”

“Of course not. It’s just a larger-than-average bird.”

Turan lied smoothly.

He was then invited to the elder chieftain’s tent, where he was provided a meal.

The nomads also considered it dishonorable to treat a guest poorly, so Turan enjoyed a rather sumptuous dinner.

Of course, in terms of both quantity and quality, it couldn’t compare to a meal from a noble family.

“Brother, where do you come from?”

“I came from Komad.”

“That’s the big city by the sea, isn’t it? You look quite young, yet you’ve traveled so far alone.”

Of course, for Turan, it had only taken a light jog of three or four hours, but for commoners, it was a distance that would take several days of uninterrupted travel to cover.

The chieftain continued to pepper him with questions, where he was headed, what he did for a living, and even proposed that Turan marry one of the tribe’s young women and settle there.

It seemed this tribe, despite its size, suffered from a noticeable lack of young men.

There were several possible reasons for this: attacks by magical beasts or wild animals, bandits, or even some form of natural disaster...

Such things would be unthinkable in the Takein Plains, but comparing the high population density and productivity of Arabion to the vast Enril Desert that House Zahar ruled was hardly fair.

The areas that one noble or knight could manage to protect differed by several magnitudes.

Turan politely dodged the chieftain’s suggestion and finished his meal, then announced that he would be heading further southwest.

“Walking through the desert at night in winter? You’ll freeze to death out there! That’s madness. Stay here tonight and leave in the morning.”

However, Turan declined and set off once again.

It wasn’t because Turan thought the chieftain would secretly send a young woman into his tent in the middle of the night.

It was something else...

“You can come out now, Dolph ssi”

Turan muttered quietly as he glanced behind him, just as he was leaving the oasis area.

Moments later, Dolph Merenio awkwardly emerged from behind a rock, wearing an embarrassed expression.

“Well, well, so you knew?”

Thanks to the Sacred Relic, Turan could precisely detect the location of any nobles or knights within a dozen meters, or, if he expanded his awareness, within several dozen to even hundreds of meters.

According to this sense, Dolph had been tailing Turan ever since he left House Dirmin.

This was the reason Turan had chosen to walk instead of riding the golden eagle.

If he flew, he could’ve shaken Dolph off for the time being, but then he wouldn’t know why the man was pursuing him.

Turan had been prepared to flee if Dolph showed signs of summoning reinforcements. However, even after expanding his awareness to several hundred meters, Turan hadn’t sensed anyone else nearby.

“I was just worried that a young lad traveling alone might run into trouble. You know, the desert can be a pretty dangerous place…”

“Are you after my magic power?”

Hating drawn-out conversations, Turan cut straight to the point.

Hearing this, Dolph smirked and dropped his facade immediately.

“So you knew and still came all the way out here? I can’t tell if you’re brave or just plain stupid.”

Hunting for magic power through murder, this was considered one of the most heinous taboos in noble society, even worse than cannibalism or infanticide.

It was because it served as a stark reminder that, to nobles, the most desirable prey wasn’t magical beasts but other nobles.

Even the mere rumor of committing such an act would lead to not only the individual but their entire family being ostracized and treated as enemies by all nearby noble houses. Such accusations could spell the end of a noble bloodline in short order.

The reason noble houses placed such importance on hosting guests with proper hospitality stemmed from this same cultural sentiment.

“This explains why nobles look down on fallen nobles like they’re the plague.”

“Ha! Look at you, acting all high and mighty, despite being in the same situation. No, you're even worse off than me, aren't you?”

Dolph sneered, his tone mocking as he looked down on Turan.

“You’ve got strong magic power, but your physical strength is utterly pathetic. Must be the primitive Guardian Bloodline, right? Only defensive capabilities left, but you’ve lost the strength to enhance your body. I don’t know how you’ve managed to accumulate that much magic power, but it’s too valuable for a useless husk like you to keep. Hand it over quietly.”

Being from the Guardian Bloodline yet physically weak, Turan seemed like an easy opponent to defeat. Moreover, his magic power was slightly stronger than Dolph’s, making the reward for defeating him all the more tempting.

On top of that, as a fellow fallen noble, Turan likely had no relatives who could investigate his death, seek revenge, or publicize the crime.

Where else could Dolph find such a tantalizing prey?

Turan watched Dolph approaching him at a leisurely pace, then lifted his gaze toward the sky.

On a moonless night like this, the only thing illuminating the desert was the faint light of the stars.

"Go up."

The golden eagle let out a sharp chirp and immediately flew into the sky.

Dolph flinched, thinking Turan might try to escape by riding the bird. But in that moment of hesitation, Turan’s body vanished into the pitch-black darkness.

Turan, too, had seen Dolph as a tantalizing prey.