No scholar, nor anyone who prided themselves on having some education, was unaware that the world was round. The existence of the horizon alone was enough to suggest it, and several general astronomy books handed down from the old empire contained theories on the subject.

Yet no one had ever traveled in one direction until they circled the world. Four great natural barriers stood in the way.

Travel far enough north from the North Sea or the other northern regions, and one reached the snow-cloud zone. Composed entirely of bottomless snow, like a swamp, it could be crossed neither on foot nor by ship.

Several Arabion wizards had once tried flying across it. Working in pairs, they took turns carrying one another through the air for days, but returned without ever reaching its end. Naturally, those who misjudged the limits of their mana or stamina and pushed too far never returned alive.

Travel ever eastward through the eastern lands, and one reached the fog plains. Fog so thick that one could barely see a hand before one's face blanketed everything from earth to sky, causing anyone who entered to lose their bearings almost instantly. One might think ropes and stakes would provide enough guidance to get through somehow, but that method had its limits, too.

Roughly twenty-four hours. After that much time, the stakes driven into the ground, the ropes, even symbols carved into the earth all vanished. After that, one could only wander endlessly in circles, desperately trying to find a way out of the fog.

Sail far enough south through the South Sea, and one naturally reached the endless ocean. No matter how far one traveled, there was nothing but sea, without a single island in sight. Yet after traveling south for dozens of days or more, turning north brought one back to the starting point as if by magic.

Long ago, a house had sent an enchanted ship on a voyage with enough supplies to circle the world twice and still have some left over. Four years later, it returned with only eight survivors. They testified that they had sailed south for four years, keeping themselves alive by fishing and collecting rainwater. After most had starved to death, they killed the captain and turned north—only to reach the island they had departed from in a mere two days.

The last barrier was the Sky Mountains in the west. Rising high enough to be clearly visible from over a thousand kilometers away, the range blocked that side of the world like a wall. At those heights, even birds gave up on crossing because of the cold and the difficulty of breathing.

These accounts alone made one thing clear: a great many adventurers seeking to explore beyond the barriers had met horrific ends. Naturally, Turan's proposal to cross one met with objections.

"Wait, weren't you the one who said we should give up because it was too dangerous?"

"We were much weaker back then. Aren't you the one who's changed his mind?"

"Well, yes, but... Maysa, what about you?"

"I don't mind."

At Maysa's firm answer, Solif looked from one to the other and shook his head.

In fact, when the three of them had been exploring the North Sea in search of monsters, it was Solif who had suggested venturing beyond the Sky Mountains. Turan, by contrast, had argued that they should leave those unknown lands for another time.

The reason their positions had suddenly reversed was simple.

"Back then, it was just the three of us, so I thought we could try it... How am I supposed to take my parents somewhere that dangerous?"

"Of course we wouldn't take them with us."

"Then what?"

"We'll have them stay in a village near the Sky Mountains and cross over ourselves first. Once we've confirmed it's safe enough, we can bring them over."

"Hmm."

Apparently deciding that was worth a try, Solif, who had been so vehemently opposed, nodded with a groan. His father Godis, who had been quietly listening, spoke up.

"I appreciate the thought, but how could I possibly ask my son and his friends to explore such a place?"

"It isn't necessarily as dangerous as you think."

Turan calmly explained that even the strongest adventurers who had explored those barriers were only middle- to upper-tier nobles at best. Naturally, the heads of great houses and the handful of top-ranking wizards had no inclination to take such risks.

"Besides, judging by the accounts from the other regions, there's a good chance it won't be particularly dangerous as long as we don't overreach."

In the snow-cloud zone, one simply had to turn back while one still had the strength to fly home. In the endless ocean, one could quickly return to safety by changing course when food ran out. The fog zone was safe, too, provided one returned within a day.

Examined closely, none of the stories described some malicious trap that indiscriminately killed everyone who entered. There were only people who refused to give up, repeatedly banging their heads against a rock until they killed themselves.

"Well..."

"Surely it can't be more dangerous than a Zahar noble suddenly arriving in the dead of night."

A heavy silence settled over the cave at Turan's words. Everyone already knew that several Zahar nobles had been at Baraha's stronghold, and that one had even been a candidate for heir. Naturally, they had to consider the possibility that Zahar would send pursuers to harm Solif or his parents.

"Of course, I destroyed every medium they could use to track you, but we can't ignore even a small possibility. Even if we can't cross the barrier, the region itself makes a decent hiding place."

Turan's mother, Bijella, had not settled on Hisaril Hill without reason. Of all the places currently open to humanity, it was the least subject to the influence of those great-house bastards—and the farthest from Zahar's stronghold.

In truth, Turan put their chances of successfully exploring beyond the Sky Mountains at about fifty-fifty. Making a refuge near Hisaril Hill was closer to his main plan. Maysa, who had been listening beside him, asked a question.

"Zahar's House Head could track them even that far, couldn't he?"

"With a medium, yes. But he'd have a hard time finding the courage to come himself without a very good reason. Especially after seeing what happened to Baraha."

The raid just last night was a perfect example of why a great-house head could not leave their stronghold lightly. Had the House Head merely been present, that disaster would never have occurred.

Thus, Turan thought that even if Zahar located them, one of its powerful nobles would probably take action instead. His grandfather Talis, perhaps, or a vessel of comparable strength would likely lead the effort.

After another hour or so of discussion, they settled on a plan. Their first destination would be Hisaril Hill, Turan's home. After that, they would explore the Sky Mountains beyond it and find a suitable refuge.

* * *

The following evening, having rested through the day and fully recovered their strength, Turan's party headed north. They did not head straight west because that route led into Zahar's territory, the Enril Desert. It was better to keep their distance if possible.

They enlisted Vije's help for the journey. Since the swing had been built for three, Solif and his parents rode it while Turan and Maysa traveled alongside them using flight magic. Turan, who could use stealth, always went ahead to scout, with the main group following behind.

"Any guards?"

"Doesn't look like it."

"Makes sense. This region borders House Ruban. They'd be reluctant to move troops around carelessly."

House Ruban, situated in the world's northeast, possessed both the Strongman and guardian bloodlines and was the only great house specializing in physical combat. Hadn't Ymir said the god ruling it was nicknamed the Junkie? Apparently, that god rarely interacted with the others, so there was probably little need to worry about cooperation between the two houses.

"Did you pick this rendezvous point because you anticipated all that?"

"Not entirely, but to some extent."

Solif looked at Turan as though he were some kind of monster. In truth, his greater motivation had been wanting to visit the dueling arena said to be here, but he saw no need to mention that. It was far cooler to look like a brilliant strategist who had foreseen everything.

"Anyway, maybe I should have made the swing bigger."

"Too big, and we'd lose maneuverability and be easier to spot from below. It would be harder to hide us like this, too."

While Turan and Maysa flew close together, Solif and his parents were not simply sitting idle. Born with the Sun bloodline, they could manipulate light, and they bent it to hide the party from anyone on the ground.

Compared to Zahar's stealth, of course, this was a terribly inefficient technique and difficult to maintain for long. They would never have attempted it if they had not already been at the edge of Baraha's territory, with only a few hours of flight remaining.

Had they been flying for half a day by then? At some point, the surrounding trees gradually began to give way to conifers. They had left the land of lakes and reached Frostwind Forest, a region of conifer woods and highlands.

"We can take things a little easier now."

"Frostwind Forest... I've heard about it, but this is my first visit."

"You've never been here?"

Solif nodded at Turan's question.

"Only heard about it. We're not exactly on friendly terms with them. You two haven't been here either, have you?"

"Mm."

"This is my first time leaving the land of lakes at all. It feels rather like an adventure, so I'm a little nervous."

Solif's mother covered her mouth as she chuckled. Once Baraha's lands had vanished completely from sight, they descended and continued on foot to give Vije a rest.

While the Baraha couple admired the tundra forest, the three younger travelers began analyzing the soul-magic book in earnest. Simply explaining the meanings of its various terms to Maysa, who had yet to read it, took quite some time.

"It's complicated..."

"I wouldn't have understood it properly without the librarian's interpretation. Honestly, I'm still not sure I understand it properly now."

As he said, the soul-magic book was half a work of philosophy. Their usual bloodline magic was physical and intuitive, interfering with the laws of nature. This, by comparison, was endlessly abstract and ambiguous.

Yet this was precisely the power they needed to fight those mighty gods. The three threw themselves enthusiastically into analyzing the book.

"The first step is awakening spiritual awareness through meditation. The herbs are only an aid..."

"Though even if we find them, there's still the question of whether they'd work on our bodies."

As Solif said, ordinary psychoactive drugs had no chance of affecting them. But if they drained their mana enough for the drugs to work before taking them, they might actually die.

"Let's get them anyway. Even if we can't use them ourselves, we could find some ordinary people to serve us and teach them."

"Ah, train ordinary people until they're proficient, then have them teach us?"

"If that's what it takes."

There was nothing humiliating about a shepherd letting sheep lead the way. They often knew the hidden mountain paths and the patches of lush grass better than the shepherd did. Likewise, ordinary people might find it easier to learn soul magic, which had been designed for ordinary humans.

Of course, since it was dangerous, they would have to capture people who deserved to die and make them learn it. The world was overflowing with such people anyway.

As they studied soul magic and traveled northwest, no one interfered with the party. Apart from Turan, none of them were even properly disguised; they merely covered their hair with hoods or the like. Apparently, Baraha's nobles had either not requested help with the pursuit here, or Ruban had ignored the request.

Thanks to that, instead of fleeing through deserted places, they could pass through reasonably sized villages and towns, enjoying good meals and comfortable beds. At a tavern that served food in one small town, Solif's mother Romi reached out with her handkerchief and wiped his mouth.

"Honestly, at your age, making such a mess."

"Oh, Mom..."

It felt strange to see Solif treated like a baby. He might often act foolishly, but he was the eldest of their trio. Turan and Maysa exchanged a glance and burst out laughing at the same time.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just nice to see."

"Exactly."

Having lost their mothers for different reasons, the two felt a curious vicarious satisfaction at the sight of him being showered with maternal affection. Solif, of course, grimaced at the fond smiles on his younger companions' faces.

* * *

Before they knew it, they were on the sixth day of a journey rather too leisurely to call a flight from pursuit. Alternating between flying and walking, they had crossed more than half of Frostwind Forest.

Along the way, they veered west from their northwesterly course. They had learned that a famous site they had wanted to visit was not far away.

As the sun rose to its noon height, a massive structure came into view.

"Is that it?"

"It's huge..."

"First the library, now this. Did people in the old empire think building everything bigger made it look cooler?"

As Solif muttered, the old empire's dueling arena ahead was enormous. Perhaps fifty meters high and ninety meters long. Dozens of closely packed openings, each flanked by marble pillars and topped by an arch, made it look like a honeycomb.

They had come to the arena for two main reasons. The first was to gain more combat experience.

None of the three lacked fighting experience compared with other nobles, but they had little experience fighting fellow top-ranking nobles. They sparred with one another now and then, but how could that compare to a real fight?

Surprisingly, Turan was the one with the most serious problem in this regard. He had only recently acquired mana in the top-ranking tier, and circumstances often forced him to fight without using his full strength in order to hide his identity. His goal was to use this opportunity to learn how to properly employ every option at his disposal.

There was also a second reason, perhaps even more important than the first: near-death experiences.

One of the main methods the soul-magic book described for awakening spiritual awareness was to approach death and return alive. No place was better suited to that than a dueling arena where dying did not mean truly dying. Of course, they would have to test whether such a shortcut actually worked.

Had reaching it required a substantial detour, they would have left it for another time. Fortunately, the arena lay directly along their route toward the North Sea and would not cost them much time.

"Why are the surroundings so much shabbier than I expected, though?"

Solif made the offhand remark as he surveyed the arena's surroundings from a low hill. As he said, unlike the library in Orem or the Tomb of the Gods, the area around this arena was visibly underdeveloped. There was only a small village beside it.

"Probably because there's no water source."

"Ah."

A city needed a plentiful supply of drinking water. Unlike those other structures, this one did not appear to have a source nearby capable of providing enough. Its relatively high elevation also made bringing water in from elsewhere inconvenient.

Of course, if someone insisted on building a city, they could construct an enormous aqueduct or extract vast quantities of groundwater. Apparently, no one thought it worth going to such lengths.

As they entered the village beside the arena, still chatting, Turan exclaimed at the presences he sensed.

"Oh."

"What is it?"

"There are an incredible number of wizards here. A hundred knights alone, and about twenty nobles, I think."

"That's no joke. Practically an army."

Considering that the village contained only a little over a hundred buildings, the number was downright disproportionate. Naturally, most were visitors who had traveled from far away to use the dueling arena.

"Next!"

"Let's go."

"Wait, isn't it my turn?"

"Look at the number! I'm first!"

"This person is ahead of you. Step back and wait your turn!"

"Tsk..."

Over a hundred knights and nobles crowded the arena entrance. A knight shouted at the top of his lungs, directing nobles far above his station with gestures. Judging by the clenched fist and shield symbols inside him, House Ruban seemed to manage the place directly. Perhaps that explained why even nobles hesitated to treat a mere knight rudely.

Scanning the symbols within the assembled knights and nobles, Turan let out an involuntary, incredulous chuckle. Pyromaniac, Earthkeeper, Rapids, Berserker...

Alongside all manner of ordinary bloodlines were members of great houses with two combined bloodlines—Zahar and Arabion, no less. Both were quite young and possessed unremarkable mana, suggesting they were out on pilgrimage. Apparently unaware of each other's identities, they showed no particular interest in one another.

After observing how people used the arena for a few minutes, Turan approached the attendant.

"Register two."

"One hundred gold coins."

As befitted such a useful facility, the fee was exorbitant. Ten visits would cost enough to buy a reasonably serviceable sailing ship.

Of course, that was nowhere near enough to dent Turan's current fortune, so he handed over the money without hesitation. Taking his registration plaque, he sat with his companions in the waiting room and looked at one wall.

Several projections of what appeared to be ongoing duels were displayed there. Maysa pointed at one of the images.

"Look at that one. A Pyromaniac and... a Strongman, I think."

"That's incredibly one-sided."

Against the Pyromaniac's strategy of constantly retreating and flinging fireballs, the Strongman darted this way and that, trying to close in, only to be battered back every time. It made it all too clear why bloodlines focused on physical combat had failed to secure territories and fallen by the wayside.

They spent several minutes absorbed in watching the duels. Then a shout announced that a place was free. When they headed over, the commoner stationed there gave a courteous explanation.

"If you channel mana into these two orbs, you will be transported to the dueling space. You will return when one participant dies or concedes defeat. Pressing this button in the center until the light turns red will prevent others from watching your duel."

"Was there a limit of once a day?"

"Yes. To be precise, anyone who has died is barred from using it for one day. That is not our own rule, but a function of the arena itself, so please forgive us..."

Perhaps because every customer here was at least a knight, the commoner continued the explanation with almost groveling deference.

A short while later, having heard the full explanation, Turan rested his hand on one of the orbs and looked at his opponent. Maysa grasped the orb opposite him, and both of them vanished.