Three weeks after its true ruler returned, conditions in Kalamap had decidedly improved.

The greatest change was that every threat prowling around the city had been swept away. Unlike their cold, indifferent predecessors, the new knights were quite active in providing relief, making them popular with the people.

This brought home to Turan why wizard houses employed knights. For work of this kind, delegating was unquestionably far easier and more reliable than running around doing everything himself.

Once the situation had stabilized somewhat, he asked Vije to patrol regularly instead of hunting nearby, covering everything from the highway leading toward the western forest region to the rugged mountains they had crossed.

Vije flew thousands of kilometers each day, constantly using tracking magic to check every human passing through. Someone approaching in the guise of an ordinary traveler might slip through, but a wizard traveling without concealing their abilities would find it all but impossible to escape her surveillance.

Unfortunately, the interrogation of Kadram had made little progress. After trying to rouse his mind through brutal torture, Turan had attempted empathy, consolation, and various other techniques from soul magic, but the walls Kadram had erected within his mind would not readily break.

His disappointed sigh had barely faded when news arrived that Maysa had finally become the second of them to manifest her spirit form through soul magic.

"You can bring it out now?"

"Yes. It felt as though some sort of membrane broke, and then it suddenly popped out. It was strange."

"Could you show me?"

At Turan's request, Maysa immediately closed her eyes, activated her spiritual awareness, and projected her spirit form. Turan frowned slightly at the sight.

'This is...'

The antlers and wings matched Turan's, so they were probably traits of the Storm Bloodline. For some reason, though, there were two other peculiar features: a bronze chain loosely wrapped around her wrist, and several mysterious metal needles embedded in her head.

"Is something strange?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know whether it's strange or not."

A spirit form could not see its own reflection in a mirror, so the only way to learn what it looked like was to have someone else draw it. Turan had therefore asked the librarian to draw his appearance for him. The black dust drifting around his body and the slit pupils he had seen in that drawing were probably Zahar traits.

By that logic, these two features ought to represent Maysa's other bloodlines, Enchanter and Strongman. When Maysa saw the drawing of her spirit form, she frowned just as Turan had.

"A bracelet, and... what's this?"

"In a portrait like this, it looks a little like an ornament, but in person it looks more like needles stuck into your head."

As a piece of jewelry, the bronze bracelet could be interpreted as connected to Enchanters. Or, since arms symbolized strength, it could be linked to Strongmen. But needles embedded in the head did not readily suggest either.

Those questions only deepened when Solif succeeded in freeing his spirit form soon afterward. His symbols were blazing hair, a white halo, and golden scales covering parts of his body—and, just like Maysa, needles embedded in his head.

"No matter how I look at it, I don't think the needles are ordinary bloodline symbols."

"Agreed. Take them away, and three each makes perfect sense."

Maysa's bronze bracelet would be the symbol of the Enchanter, and Solif's golden scales that of the guardian. Then what on earth were the needles?

Pulling one out might reveal something, but they could hardly risk damaging their spirit forms. A soul's immortality meant that it would not easily cease to exist, not that it could not be damaged. Just as a dead animal might become food for another creature and be digested into feces without vanishing altogether, "change" was exceedingly easy—and irreversible.

* * *

A month into the busy work of restoring Kalamap to order, Turan turned his head as he sensed enormous masses of mana approaching from the southeast.

'Here at last...'

Before long, the Berg knight guarding the eastern gate hurried over to announce their visitors. Since he had been expecting this, Turan immediately summoned Kalamap's nobles, including Solif and Maysa.

A short while later, Zahar's nobles entered the room prepared for negotiations.

"Hmm..."

Solif gave a quiet groan, looking back and forth between Turan and the middle-aged man at the head of the visitors. The other nobles of Kalamap reacted much the same way—as did even the Zahar nobles. That was how closely the man leading Zahar's delegation resembled Turan. His grandfather, Talis Zahar, spoke with an incongruously kindly smile.

"A pleasure, young Turan. Is this our first meeting in person?"

"It is. Please, sit down. The least I can do is offer you some tea."

"Gladly."

Amid the stiff atmosphere, Talis and Turan alone conversed like a visitor from afar and his relaxed host. Once everyone had been served a cup of stonecrop tea, a specialty of the Gray Zone, Turan spoke quietly.

"You arrived rather later than I expected, though."

Considering that Zahar's capital lay somewhat toward the eastern side of the Enril Desert, a month was actually quite fast for news from Kalamap to reach them and for them to travel here. The journey would take an ordinary person several months on foot, and even most knights or nobles would have to run for nearly a month.

In reality, however, the news had most likely reached them far sooner. Even if it was no match for Vije, they would surely have stationed at least one monster somewhere to carry messages like a homing pigeon.

Moreover, according to the Berg knight's report, they had not come on foot, but in a carriage pulled by an enormous reindeer monster. Given that the monster possessed mana on par with an upper-tier noble, their actual journey would have taken only a week or two.

'They were probably busy getting a grasp of the situation.'

Who was the noble house he had brought with him? What had he been doing all this time? There was a great deal they needed to learn before talking. In negotiations like these, knowledge was power. In other words, they had only come now because they believed they knew enough. This conversation would reveal whether they really did.

"We have a great deal of land and a great deal to do. Until recently, matters in the east kept us particularly busy."

Talis was, of course, referring to the uproar Turan and his companions had caused in Baraha's capital several months earlier. At his words, the Zahar nobles all turned toward Solif, who stood at the back.

Pretending not to notice, Turan calmly drank his tea. As he did, he took stock of their numbers and strength once more.

'One in the top-ranking tier, two in the upper tier, and nine in the middle tier...'

It was a weaker force than he had expected, given that those previously stationed here would have reported that Turan was at least in the top-ranking tier and had even brought an entire noble house with him. Judging by this, they apparently did not yet know that he could capture and imprison souls. That would mean Arabion and Zahar had not yet restored their ties.

While Turan's mind raced, Talis asked in an easygoing tone, "Well, am I the sort of person you wanted to speak with?"

"More than adequate. I doubt we'll be discussing anything so weighty that my grandfather's elder brother needs to attend."

The corners of Talis's eyes twitched faintly at that unexpected familial reference. Nothing else in his expression changed, but Turan could tell he was unsettled, however slightly.

"Where did you hear that?"

"From Reto."

There was no longer any point in concealing that Turan had disposed of Reto, the Zahar noble who had infiltrated Arabion. Maysa, who had escaped at the time, was standing firmly behind him even now. Of course, Reto had believed Turan to be Talis's son, not his grandson.

"I see. Well, very good. I won't take issue with that matter. However... I believe we do have something to discuss concerning Alma."

At Talis's words, Turan sensed killing intent from several of the Zahar nobles standing behind him. Presumably, they belonged to the faction that had supported Alma. Those who remained largely unmoved would be supporters of Perga, who had died in the labyrinth, or Rahman, the only surviving heir.

After briefly collecting his thoughts, Turan readily admitted to killing Alma.

"I regret what happened. I had no particular desire to make enemies of them, but they attacked us first. We suffered considerable losses as a result."

In truth, he had ambushed them and slaughtered them all in an instant, but they would have no way of knowing that much. The only vessel present had died in a single blow without even understanding how he was being attacked.

Turan had never lost his own body, but his experience leaving it in spirit form had taught him that observing the material world properly in that state was difficult. With no physical eyes to rely on and only spiritual currents to perceive, everything appeared as countless scattered rays of light.

Even aside from that, they could hardly present a vessel's eyewitness account as evidence—not unless they intended to expose their secret publicly.

"You...!"

BANG!

One of the Zahar nobles seated nearby smashed his hand down on the table, crushing it as he rose. Without even looking his way, Talis spoke quietly.

"Sit down, Kaiso."

"You heard him, Lord Talis! That bastard killed Alma..."

"Do not make me repeat myself."

His voice was incomparably lower and colder than before. He had not even released any mana, yet the sheer pressure in his voice made the standing noble tremble and sit back down.

Turan had barely watched the man hang his head before noticing that Talis was staring steadily at him.

'What is it?'

Surely he was not checking whether the outburst had offended Turan. No, it felt more as though he was testing Turan for some reaction to his words. After a moment's thought, Turan decided on a suitable response.

"If you want compensation, we can negotiate that later. Surely there is something we ought to discuss first."

"Indeed. So... will you return?"

"'Returning' to Zahar isn't quite the right expression. I don't know whether you're aware, but half my blood is Arabion."

"Your relationship with them must already be beyond repair."

The person Talis indicated with a slight tilt of his head was, naturally, Maysa, standing quietly behind Turan. Gathering information on the battle in the forest near Zavillin would have taken some time.

When Zahar set its mind to gathering information on a particular subject, its speed and accuracy were certainly formidable. The only reason they had known so little about Turan before was that they had not considered him worth watching. Once someone became a person of interest, half measures would plainly be all but useless in keeping secrets.

"There is also the option of installing Maysa as Arabion's new House Head and placing myself under her protection."

"Hmm."

Talis did not dismiss that as absurd. He understood, to some extent, what it meant that Maysa and Solif, heirs to two great houses, stood behind Turan with him as their representative.

Above all, he had already learned the circumstances of the "battle in the forest." If Turan could fight Kadram after the latter revealed his true abilities, he too had surpassed the level of an ordinary top-ranking noble. He was, at the very least, strong enough to make such an attempt.

"Then what is it you truly want? I think we'll need to establish that before this conversation can proceed."

As though calling an end to their probing, Talis went straight to the heart of the matter. Turan likewise came directly to the point.

"I want friendly nonaggression with Zahar, and neutrality for the Gray Zone."

"Friendly nonaggression and neutrality?"

"Yes. To put it simply, let's stay out of each other's affairs. I don't think it's a particularly bad proposal."

Had Turan been what they once thought him—a reasonably capable upper-tier noble—the proposal would not even have merited consideration. A great house was expected to keep a firm hold on its members; they would have subdued him and dragged him away on the spot.

But Talis had at least a rough idea of Turan's present abilities and the strength of the force he had built. They were long past the point where Zahar could crush them like insects.

To drive that point home, Turan glanced at the two behind him, then released his mana. It had been quite some time since he had displayed his full strength rather than a moderate amount. As the power of three formidable individuals who surpassed even top-ranking nobles filled the meeting room, everyone gasped.

"Hah!"

"What? This is..."

Just as the mere presence of an unimaginably huge creature could be oppressive even when it did nothing, some of the more timid nobles found themselves struggling to breathe upon sensing that mana. Talis alone remained unperturbed. He took another sip of tea and posed a question.

"Impressive. Where did you gather so much mana?"

"From too many places to say. I traveled widely and hunted a great many monsters..."

"And just as many people, no doubt."

Rather than bother answering the probing remark, Turan chose silence. That silence was a challenge of its own: We possess this much power. Do you truly mean to make enemies of us?

After a short while, Talis looked around and spoke.

"I'd like a moment alone with you. Would that be all right?"

"Making everyone leave would be a nuisance. Let's move elsewhere ourselves."

The two left the conference room together and headed for the office upstairs. On the way, Turan abruptly turned and seized the hand of Talis, who was following behind him.

"I saw that."

"... There's no getting past you, is there?"

Instead of angrily demanding an explanation for having his wrist grabbed, Talis gave a rueful smile and opened his clenched fist. Inside were a few hairs he appeared to have quietly collected in the meeting room. One was long and red, another short and silver—probably Maysa's and Solif's.

"I'd prefer that we treat each other with courtesy. I won't forcibly pluck out your hair and keep it either, Lord Talis."

"Very well."

Having reached that gentlemen's agreement, they finally entered the office and sat facing each other. Talis spoke first.

"Now that we're alone, I'll be blunt. How much do you know about the secrets of the soul?"

"I know at least that the old gods survived as souls and live on in the bodies of their descendants. Your leader would be the Night Hunter, I imagine. And Arabion's would be the Thunder Lord."

Talis neither affirmed nor denied the deliberately incorrect answer Turan offered. Instead, he posed a pointed question in a gentle tone.

"Then you must hate us. Don't you?"

"Honestly, I'm not particularly pleased about it, but I wouldn't have intervened if my friends hadn't been among those whose bodies you intended to take."

As he spoke, Turan tried to empty his mind as much as possible. Between high-ranking Zahar nobles, concealing emotions was practically impossible. Most of the time, they could smell what the other person was feeling.

The key, therefore, was to reveal the emotion readily while subtly distorting its meaning. Talis had probably done the same with a fair number of his own remarks.

"In truth, we've been giving this considerable thought ourselves. Whether to crush you... or rather, all of you, before you grow any further, or to acknowledge you and leave you be."

"We have no grand ambition to overthrow the gods' supremacy. We merely want to survive."

"And becoming our bodies doesn't count as survival, I take it."

"Isn't that obvious?"

Talis cleared his throat lightly with a hum, tapping his fingers against the desk. Suddenly realizing that he had the exact same habit, Turan clicked his tongue.

Quite apart from being the vessel of some ancient god, the being before him was also his own grandfather—regardless of whether such habits were influenced by the body.

"Very well. I've heard what you have to say. We'll need to discuss it further among ourselves, but personally, I don't think it's a bad idea."

A favorable answer. But this sort of thing was usually followed immediately by the unwelcome real point.

"Still, words alone would hardly make for a firm bond, would they? The same would be true on your side."

"What do you want?"

"As it happens, one of the House Head's granddaughters is about your age, and quite good-looking."

Wouldn't it be a fine thing to strengthen their ties by having the two of them marry, Talis suggested in a perfectly casual tone.