Translator: Pai_

Early in the morning, Turan left Murei City and headed northeast.

According to what Midan had told him, the distance between the two cities was about a week's journey for an average person.

With his pace, however, he could narrow it down to about two to three days.

After leaving the city and walking for about half a day, he could clearly feel that the natural environment was becoming increasingly abundant.

On either side of the road, naturally formed by people passing through, forests had grown, and occasionally, when the plains spread out, golden wheat fields could be seen in the distance.

And of course, where there is abundance, there are more animals, and where there are more animals, there are also more Magical Beasts.

As Turan walked along the road, he periodically used Detection Magic to check if there were any Magical Beasts nearby. After confirming their presence, he hunted them before returning to the road.

Most of them were so weak that it wasn't even worth catching them, but there were one or two useful ones mixed in, which made the effort somewhat rewarding.

Perhaps because it was the road leading to a major city, he could see people passing by relatively frequently.

Farmers heading to nearby villages to sell wheat, peddlers traveling to and from the cities, and armed individuals who might be Beast Hunters or mercenaries.

Among them, a few would glance at Turan, who was traveling alone, their eyes glinting with interest. However, upon seeing him take a single step that covered the equivalent of three or four steps for an ordinary person, they quickly averted their gaze in alarm.

By the afternoon of the third day, he began to see paved roads made of solid stone rather than dirt.

Though he didn’t know who managed them, the roads were incredibly well-maintained, with only a few slightly damaged sections, making them easy to walk on. Out of curiosity, he lightly tried to break the edge of the road using magic, but it didn’t budge easily, as if some sort of magical power was imbued in it.

And finally, on the fourth day.

Though it had taken a bit longer since he frequently veered off to hunt Magical Beasts, Turan arrived at his destination, Orem City.

"Alright, alright! Get in line to enter! Hey, no cutting in line over there!"

Orem City was a large metropolis that made Murei City look like a mere rural village.

Its population reportedly numbered in the tens of thousands.

At the outskirts, a cluster of shabby huts housed what appeared to be impoverished residents, while further inward stood stone walls about five meters high, forming a boundary.

At the city gates, guards clad in metallic armor were monitoring those entering and exiting. Judging by the abundance of portraits placed nearby, they seemed to be checking for wanted individuals among the passersby.

As Turan approached the gate, one of the guards suddenly blocked his path.

"Hey, your clothes are way too dirty. At the very least, shake off the dust before coming inside."

The guard wasn’t picking a fight for no reason; Turan's clothes were noticeably dirtier than those of the people around him.

The clothes he was wearing were already old, having been worn since his days as a shepherd, and had grown even more worn out. On top of that, he hadn’t properly washed them during the four days he had been traveling outdoors.

Moreover, having lived in the water-scarce Hisaril Hill, Turan considered doing laundry something one only needed to do once a month.

Murei City, being next to the wilderness, also didn’t have an abundance of water, so everyone there was similarly dirty.

In contrast, the people of this city were all clean and tidy, making Turan’s appearance stand out even more.

"Understood."

After stepping outside the city gate to shake off his clothes, Turan re-entered without being stopped this time.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to waste time buying things he wouldn’t use just to ask for directions to the library.

According to what Midan had told him, the library was the tallest building in the city.

Amidst the mostly two- to three-story buildings, one solitary tower that seemed to be over thirty stories high stood tall.

‘It must have been built with magic, right?’

Its grandeur was simply unimaginable as something created by human hands.

As he got closer, it appeared so absurdly high that it even seemed grotesque.

It was so tall that Turan wondered if one might even be able to look down at the clouds from up there.

Lost in admiration for quite some time, Turan soon regained his senses and approached the guard standing at the entrance.

"I heard that anyone who is a Wizard can enter here. Is that correct?"

At Turan's question, the guard's expression stiffened.

He had initially thought of casually driving away this ragged-looking man, but what was this now?

Deep down, he dismissed it as nonsense spouted by some crazy bastard, but a faint suspicion began to arise within him.

Because of that, the guard decided to confirm the stranger's identity using a method that only a Wizard could perform.

‘Huh?’

Turan widened his eyes at the flow of Magic Power emanating from the guard’s body.

It was a spell manipulated to not produce any visible effects, purely meant to demonstrate one's strength.

Wasn’t it said to have been created so that Wizards could measure and compare their Magic Power without resorting to combat?

Though Turan had learned it from Keorn and practiced it a few times with him, this was the first time he was receiving it from someone else.

Well, it was also the first time he had encountered another Wizard.

Turan, in turn, gathered his own pure Magic Power and projected it toward the guard.

“Huff…!”

The guard let out a wheezing sound as he received it.

The guard's Magic Power was, at best, half that of Keorn’s. Compared to Turan's current level, it wasn’t even one-twentieth. He had no chance of enduring it.

Then again, it would be absurd to station someone exceptionally skilled in such a place, wouldn't it?

Feeling the stark difference, the guard lowered his head and spoke.

"I-I am Kesha, a knight of the House Baltas. Your Grace, may I ask which noble house you hail from?"

"Do I need to say that to enter?"

"No, not at all. I apologize!"

Perhaps misunderstanding Turan's response as How dare someone like you ask me that?, the knight bowed his head even deeper than before.

Turan was already growing tired of the conversation.

"No, I was genuinely just asking."

A moment of silence passed. When the knight finally raised his head, he seemed to realize that Turan was being sincere. He cautiously explained.

The library could only be used by those authorized by the lord of this city, the head of House Baltas.

This was quite different from what Midan had told him.

"I heard that Wizards could use it."

“Well… to my knowledge, no commoner has ever been permitted to use the library.”

Had the story been distorted, as everyone entering and leaving the library happened to be a Wizard, leading to the belief that all Wizards could access it?

Turan scratched his chin for a moment, then let out a sigh.

"How can I get permission from the lord of House Baltas to use the library?"

"Such matters are above me. I cannot dare to know. However, if Your Grace permits, I will contact the house and inquire about it."

"Please do so."

After saying this, Turan leaned against the wall opposite the library’s main gate.

Now that his identity had been revealed, he would soon have to face the ‘hospitality’ of House Baltas.

It was considered proper etiquette for nobles to treat other nobles as guests when they entered their territory.

‘Maybe I should’ve just snuck in.’

He had considered using the Concealment Ability of the Zahar Bloodline to infiltrate the library. However, he didn’t attempt it recklessly, thinking there might be security measures inside that could neutralize such abilities.

If he were caught, wouldn’t he be mistaken for an assassin? He wouldn’t even be able to refute such an accusation.

Especially since the Zahar Bloodline’s ability was one of the most specialized in assassination.

Before long, a large carriage pulled by four horses raced down the main street and came to a halt in front of the library.

A middle-aged man, who appeared to be the coachman, glanced at Turan and immediately bowed deeply.

"Welcome to the City of Wisdom, Orem, Your Grace. I am Reden, a steward of House Baltas. The head of the house wishes to welcome you. Would it be possible for you to spare some time?"

"Very well."

"Please, Your Grace, do not address me so highly."

At Turan's use of a respectful title, the steward who called himself Reden, though Turan didn’t fully understand what a steward was, responded with such servility that it seemed he might grovel on the ground at any moment.

Turan, inwardly sighing at the overly obsequious reaction, nodded his head.

"Alright."

"I shall guide you."

Although Turan had seen carriages a few times in Murei, this was his first time riding one.

During the ride, Turan composed himself and prepared for any unforeseen situations.

Though unlikely, if the house were to suddenly attack him, he would have to Conceal himself and escape immediately.

After about ten minutes, the carriage came to a stop, and a voice from outside called out.

[We have arrived.]

When he stepped out of the carriage, a castle built of pristine white stone greeted him.

It was about five or six stories tall, and its appearance seemed to prioritize aesthetics over defense.

The steward, who had disembarked from the coachman’s seat, spoke to him.

"I was wondering if you would allow us to assist you in refining your attire before meeting the lord?"

Turan didn’t understand what “refining his attire” meant, but it seemed like something necessary for the meeting, so he nodded.

Following the steward’s guidance, Turan entered through the front gate, where three maids approached him.

"We will guide you to the bathhouse, Your Grace."

This was a welcome suggestion, as Turan had felt dirty ever since arriving here.

The problem arose when the maids followed him into the bathhouse.

"We will assist you with your bath."

Assist him with his bath? Did they mean to bathe him as though he were a child?

Even though Turan had only ever lived with his mother, he understood the basic etiquette that men and women should observe around each other. Frowning, he shook his head.

"I'll wash mys- I'll wash alone. Everyone out."

However, upon hearing this, the maids' faces turned pale, and they prostrated themselves, begging, "We're sorry, please forgive us."

To Turan’s shock, the youngest maid, who seemed to be about his age, even started sobbing loudly.

Bewildered by such an extreme reaction, Turan pointed to the oldest maid and asked.

"Is there a problem if I wash alone?"

"Yes. If we fail to properly serve Your Grace, we will be punished. Please have mercy..."

Turan had some understanding of the stark difference in status between Wizards and commoners, but he hadn’t expected it to be this extreme.

Overcome with exhaustion, Turan let out a deep sigh and nodded.

"Do as you please."

Moments later, the maids undressed Turan and washed him with warm water and soap.

He didn’t need to do anything himself during the process.

The maids were so adept at their task that they didn’t even ask him to move his arms or legs as they meticulously cleaned every inch of his body.

Though exposing his naked body to women, letting others wash him, and revealing the streams of grime that flowed off him felt incredibly awkward, setting that aside, the experience of being bathed like this was undeniably worth it.

After the bath, the maids combed out his tangled, long hair and dressed him in fresh clothes, completing his grooming.

When they were done, the maids widened their eyes in amazement.

The youngest maid, who had been sobbing earlier, blushed and let out a gasp of admiration.

“Wow…”

“What?”

When Turan turned his head to ask, the girl gasped again, quickly covering her mouth with her hands.

The older maid stepped in to explain.

"Your Grace is so beautiful that she must have momentarily lost herself in admiration. Please forgive her."

Saying this, the maid brought over a large mirror that had been set aside.

Looking into it, Turan immediately understood their reaction.

The first thing that caught his eye was his gray hair, which he had always left tied back in a rough ponytail out of laziness.

The maids had combed it thoroughly and applied some kind of oil, letting it fall smoothly. It now gleamed like polished steel and harmonized perfectly with his ash-gray eyes.

Once his darkened skin, grimed from not washing, was cleaned, Turan’s sharp, bold features stood out even more, and the white clothes embroidered with gold thread made his tall and agile physique appear even more elegant.

If, before being washed, he had looked like a rather handsome beggar, now he looked like a noble young man who had lived a life of refinement and privilege.

A short while later, having completed his preparations, Turan followed the steward’s guidance toward the banquet hall, where the head of the house awaited.

On the way, everyone they passed bowed deeply, as if they all somehow knew who he was. Curious, Turan asked the steward walking ahead of him.

"Do they all know my identity?"

"It’s because of the clothes you’re wearing. In this castle, garments adorned with gold thread are a color reserved solely for the nobility."

Just as the steward finished speaking, a young lady dressed in a bluish-gray gown embroidered with gold appeared from a hallway.

Seeing Turan, she tilted her head and asked.

"Is this the guest who came looking like a beggar? What's this, after washing and dressing him up, he looks just like a prince?"

“Ah, my lady… calling him a beggar is…”

“Oh, what does it matter? I’m Izela. Izela Baltas. And you are?”

Judging by the title and tone the steward used to address her, it was clear that she was a noblewoman of House Baltas.

Her attitude and speech oozed such arrogance that Turan thought to himself, So this is what a true noble is like.

Instinctively, he felt a strong urge not to back down, and he held his head high as he replied confidently.

“I am Turan.”

“Just Turan? What about your family name?”

“It’s difficult to reveal due to certain circumstances. There’s a house I’m at odds with.”

This was an excuse Turan had prepared in advance after consulting with Keorn.

He was pretending to be a noble on a pilgrimage to strengthen his Magic Power while hiding his identity due to a conflict with a rival house.

In reality, the House Zahar, which could technically be called his family, wasn’t even aware of Turan’s existence, so he couldn’t claim that name. At the same time, completely concealing his background could lead to suspicion that he was a criminal on the run.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Magic Power flared from Izela’s body, just like the guard at the library had done earlier.

It was as if she was trying to determine whether he was a fraud.

In response, Turan unleashed his own power, and as the two forces collided, sparks crackled in the air.

“Kyaaah!”

The maids screamed and backed away in fear, while Turan analyzed the brief clash and felt a new wave of shock.

Izela’s Magic Power was almost on par with his own.

In truth, this wasn’t something that should have surprised him.

Regardless of his great potential, Turan was still a novice who had only begun cultivating Magic Power less than a month ago.

However, since every Wizard he’d encountered so far had been far weaker than him, meeting someone of a similar caliber for the first time was a startling experience.

It was like living your entire life among dwarves and then suddenly coming face to face with a giant of the same height as yourself.

Looking closer, Turan noticed that Izela, too, seemed shaken by his power.

“Wow…”

She let out an exclamation, hesitating for a moment, before abruptly blurting out something shocking.

“So, dear guest, shall we get married?”