The false information Turan had spread among Arabion's survivors several months earlier proved even more effective than he had expected.

"White Elves have taken over Arabion's leadership? What utter nonsense."

"Don't dismiss it as nonsense. Think seriously about it. Elder Lin, for instance. Isn't he quite different from when he was young? Not a gradual change, either. It was especially noticeable around a hundred and fifty years ago."

"Hmm, now that you mention it..."

"I thought it was absurd at first, too. But the more I look back, the more suspicious things I remember."

Older members of the main house who remained on the fringes for lack of ability, and elders of vassal houses—those who had grown up alongside some of the vessels took Turan's false rumor seriously.

Just as he had said, there had been occasional cases of people changing suddenly and unnervingly. A lie was always far more effective when subtly mixed with the truth than when invented from nothing.

Naturally, raising an army at once was difficult with such internal turmoil brewing. With Kadram, the House Head's most active confidant, killed in battle as well, Arabion had become a headless giant.

The situation had reached the point where civil war seemed a possibility they might have to accept. Had Turan been healthy, and had he known of this confusion, he might have intervened and sparked a full-scale civil war. With Maysa as his figurehead, his side would have lacked nothing in legitimacy.

Unfortunately, Turan had no way of knowing what was happening within Arabion's camp. Berg, a mere vassal house, had no one capable of serving as a proper spy, and if he infiltrated Arabion himself, he would be unable to prepare for attacks from other factions.

Then, facing the vassals who openly defied Arabion without a central leader, a single superhuman appeared.

"H-House Head."

"Well? Do I still look like a White Elf to you?"

Badal Arabion. The eyes of the old man, now past four hundred and seemingly waiting only for death, shone fiercely. Looking at him now, it was hard to believe he had been so feeble until recently.

The man sprawled amid the shattered ruins pleaded with the lord looking down at him.

"I... I entertained foolish thoughts. Please..."

Before he could finish, lightning rose from Badal's hand and burned his body. After the blinding flash passed, only ashes remained.

"There shall be no more traitors in this land."

At the House Head's declaration, everyone bowed fervently, praising Arabion and the descendant of the great Thunder Lord. Whatever they thought inwardly, they had at least outwardly submitted to that overwhelming power.

* * *

It took roughly three weeks for the House Head to put down the rebellion in person. As the Dakayn Plains began to settle, Arabion sent an envoy to Karmine, against whom it had been preparing for war until quite recently.

Riding the house's fastest monster without rest, the envoy arrived in less than five days.

"Peace?"

"Indeed."

"I've heard things haven't been going well for you lately. Is there any reason we should make allowances for that?"

Rodor Karmine, Karmine's House Head, casually burned the letter delivered to him, his expression incredulous.

Arabion had been the one picking fights and threatening war until just recently, and now they wanted to call it off because their circumstances had worsened? War was not a children's game.

Of course, over their long lives, they had long since come to regard politics and war as something approaching entertainment. Even so, that did not mean they would actually go easy on one another.

Faced with Rodor's attitude, the envoy, Elder Lin Arabion, spoke solemnly.

"There is something I wish to tell you apart from the document I just presented. Might I request a private audience?"

"Well, fine. Granted. Everyone, withdraw."

"Will you be all right, my lord?"

"What could the likes of him possibly do to harm me?"

Lin Arabion was one of the strongest of Arabion's elders and a veteran of war, but he was already more than three hundred years old. Rodor, by contrast, possessed the formidable mana befitting a House Head and a body still in its mid-thirties. Considering that age and physical health mattered even in wizard battles, thanks to factors such as reflexes and stamina, there was truly not the slightest chance of anything happening.

Once they were alone, Rodor created a sphere of light to illuminate their surroundings and asked,

"What are you thinking? Surely you aren't about to appeal to our shared homeland."

The conversation beginning now was not between a great house's head and an elder, but between outsiders from a distant place. Lin accordingly straightened his deeply bowed back and faced him.

"Our secret has been exposed."

"To whom?"

"A bastard of the Zahar bloodline named Turan. He's building his own power base in Kalamap, in the Gray Zone. We need to crush him before he grows any further."

"Turan? Ah, I've heard that name..."

After a moment's thought, Rodor remembered where he had heard it. Hadn't Jujak—no, Talis—mentioned on his recent visit that the boy was his grandson?

"Isn't that a rather flimsy excuse? Any one of you could go and crush a little resistance from the natives."

"It's beyond that. He's already so strong that even I would struggle to face him alone. He also has two companions nearly as strong as he is, and he can even use soul magic. Rom has already been captured, unable to escape."

Lin's explanation left Rodor briefly speechless. When vessels like himself revealed their true power, ordinary nobles were usually crushed like insects.

Yet one of them had actually been captured? Unable to believe it, he immediately voiced the thought that came to mind.

"Did your boss create him through some scheme of his? There's no way an individual with that much ability could be born naturally."

"I knew you'd think that. The answer, of course, is no. We already put everything into creating Maysa. That boy is a naturally occurring variable."

Rodor stroked his short beard, lost in thought. A naturally born wizard so powerful that even vessels like them could not easily defeat him. This unknown being, the first of his kind in thousands of years, nearly set the heart he had thought long dead pounding again.

"Well, I understand the general situation. So, what do we get in return?"

"In return?"

"From what you've told me, he's baring his teeth at you and Baraha. We don't seem particularly involved. Your circumstances are your own concern. If you started the fight, you need to pay the price."

The wrinkles on the Arabion elder's face twisted at Rodor's words. He had always been an obnoxious fellow, calling himself the Lawyer and acting superior, but Lin had never imagined he would try to profit like this even from a threat to them all.

"... Is this really how you're going to play it?"

"Yes, it really is."

After a brief, silent contest of stares, Lin was the first to look away. It was the result of the difference in their standing, and in the physical vitality and mana of the bodies they occupied.

"Fine. I'll speak to our leader. Apart from that, I'd also like to ask for your help."

"Ours? What about Caesar?"

"We already approached him, but he was lukewarm."

"Does he suspect you're staging the whole thing? You've done that often enough."

Watching Lin clear his throat, Rodor knew his suspicion was correct. How could someone remain so easy to read after living for thousands of years? There was a reason their leader had made Rom, lately known as Kadram, his confidant rather than the fool standing before him.

'Still, Caesar has decided to stand aside.'

He understood the thinking of Caesar, Zahar's ruler. Everyone knew how devious the man ruling Arabion—or, more precisely, both Arabion and Nagin—was.

Would someone who had routinely been named and shamed as a scammer on the message boards every few months change simply because he had reigned as a god for thousands of years? Sneering inwardly, Rodor waved a hand.

"At any rate, I've heard you out. I'll defer the question of helping, and since you say this concerns us all, I'll settle for a suitably modest payment. You may go."

"... Thanks."

"Now, now. Is that any way to address a House Head? You should say, 'Thank you, my lord.'"

"Thank you, my lord."

Lin spat out his reply to the continued mockery, turned, and left. Alone, Rodor began to whistle lightly—a melody from distant memories, one that did not exist in this world.

'To think that problem would resolve itself like this. What luck.'

In truth, House Karmine was in no position to snarl at Arabion and demand payment for a truce. The great sea serpent merfolk had recently been prowling around the North Sea, threatening them. No physical clash had occurred yet, but they could not possibly withdraw their main forces from the capital, Abacha.

Just when they had been facing a war on two fronts, one opponent had actually requested a truce. Better still, a little bluffing had earned them something for nothing. Things could hardly have gone better.

"Turan... Turan..."

His delight lasted only a moment before Rodor repeated the name he had just heard. A dangerous element, born a native of this world yet rising to a level close to their own and attempting to oppose them...

'He sounds quite entertaining to toy with, but I should still eliminate him when I have time.'

Cutting off dangerous shoots before they could grow. That was the secret to how they had survived all these thousands of years.

Karmine's House Head added Turan's name to his kill list.

* * *

WHOOOSH

Feeling the wind brush past his ears, Turan gazed at the Gray Zone in the distance.

It had been two days since the urgent message. He was flying swiftly north on Vije with the reinforcements Ravista had sent.

"Are you all right, Vije?"

-I'm tired...

Vije's voice sounded so faint in his mind that it seemed about to fade away. It was only natural. She was flying at full speed without rest, carrying an enormous net with dozens of people hanging in it beneath her feet.

Powerful as she was, even she had clear limits to her strength and stamina.

"I'm so sorry. But please hold on a little longer. Maysa and Solif—and everyone else—are in danger."

-Okay...

With another beat of her rustling wings, the land streamed backward again. Turan looked down, struggling to calm his growing impatience.

'Two top-ranking nobles, five upper-tier, fifteen middle-tier... That should be enough to fight them.'

Of course, House Head Osel would have been the best reinforcement, but he had only just risen from his sickbed and could hardly serve as a meaningful fighting force right away. Bringing him would also risk leaving Ravista's main house far too defenseless.

The high-ranking nobles who had been treating him, on the other hand, were merely short of mana and stamina, which they could recover during the flight. Though, mana aside, Turan was somewhat doubtful that they could properly recover their stamina under these conditions.

"Is it much farther?!"

"We're almost there!"

"Ugh, dam—next time, please at least let us sit..."

One of the Ravista nobles hanging in the net below covered his mouth and retched, apparently nauseated. The large saddle they had used to take House Berg over the mountains would have been useful, but unfortunately, Turan had left it in Kalamap, forcing them to use a makeshift net saddle. He alone rode on Vije's back, on the grounds that he had to guide her.

As they approached Kalamap, Turan closed his eyes and searched for Maysa's traces with tracking magic.

'Southwest of Kalamap... I smell blood. Is she hurt?'

He clicked his tongue at the sudden worry, then detected Solif's presence as well. The two were not far apart.

Next he checked Asiz, Melo, and the Berg House Head and her husband. All lay in roughly the same direction. It seemed they had abandoned the city and were fleeing. In other words, the enemy was far too strong for them to face.

'Surely not.'

Only one person in present-day Arabion possessed that much power. Turan realized that the possibility he had dreaded had become reality.

"So he's come."

The murmur, tinged with fear, scattered into the air.

A little later, Vije was flying slowly, exhausted by carrying Turan and Ravista's wizards. Just before she reached her limit, Turan ordered her to land.

"You worked so hard, Vije. Get some proper rest."

-Turan, the fight...

"I'll take care of things here."

If Vije joined the fighting in her exhausted state, his worry for her would only become a hindrance. Perhaps sensing his thoughts, she soon settled inside his body and fell asleep.

While the Ravista wizards stretched and loosened their stiff joints after landing, Turan immediately located his companions with the tracking magic he had kept active.

"That way. Let's run."

"Yes."

Hanging in Vije's net had been far from comfortable, and the Ravista wizards wanted to rest a little first. But they could hardly say so to Turan, who looked ready to burst with urgency. The twenty-odd wizards raced over the low hills faster than any wild beast.

Before long, brilliant light and thunderous noise announced the battle from far away. It was taking place on the boundary between the Gray Zone and the western forest region, closer to the forest.

"Over there!"

"I'll go ahead!"

After notifying the top-ranking Ravista noble accompanying him, Turan kicked off the ground and took flight. His body shot forward faster than he had been traveling on foot.

'They'll be all right...'

The fact that tracking magic still worked meant the target's body still existed intact. Tracking the dead inevitably produced the distinctive smell of a corpse, unless they had only just died.

Though he knew that rationally, it was still hard to bear the fear that something might have happened to Maysa, Solif, or the others. His urgency fed directly into his magic, letting him fly even faster than usual.

Soon, the battlefield came into view.

"Aaaaaah!"

"Die, you filthy traitors!"

"Help me!"

"Hold on just a little longer!"

The first thing he saw was Arabion's wizards attacking House Berg's people. Outnumbered, Berg's wizards huddled together and remained on the defensive, but even at a glance they were clearly struggling.

Turan stopped in midair, loaded a metal ball into his sling, and hurled it toward the attackers. The ball flew along a wind channel he now created as naturally as breathing, tearing through the air with a thunderous report at its destination.

"Aaaah!"

"Gah!"

The screams came from House Berg's people. Naturally so—the Arabion wizards pursuing them had been torn apart and killed instantly by the shock wave.

Their bewilderment at the unexpected attack lasted only a moment. When Turan flew forward, their faces lit up.

"Ah...!"

"Master Turan!"

"Thank you!"

"Where are you headed?"

With no time even to accept their thanks, Turan went straight to the point. The person who appeared to be leading them answered.

"We're heading to the canyon to the west. We scattered when we were attacked along the way, so I'm not sure where the others are..."

"I know where they are, so don't worry. Get to safety there for now."

"Yes, sir!"

After rescuing that group, Turan set Maysa and Solif as the targets of his tracking magic again. In truth, he did not even need it to find them. They were where the fiercest fighting was taking place.

Before long, he saw Maysa and Solif, literally drenched in blood, fighting desperately for their lives. And he saw the old man standing opposite them.

Apparently noticing Turan as well, the old man stopped pressing the two and took a breath. An aged voice Turan had heard before reached his ears.

"So I finally meet the fellow who abducted my daughter."

Badal Arabion, the House Head of Arabion, delivered the joke without a trace of a smile.