Naturally, every house in the surrounding region learned of the newly founded House Parsha. Spies with knight- or noble-caliber mana had been killed or expelled after falling within Turan's senses, but a few had been lucky enough to escape the watch.

They spread the news to the surrounding region by every means available, from messenger pigeons to riding monsters. Thanks to them, congratulations from other nearby houses began arriving not long after the name had been chosen and announced—before Parsha had even sent them heralds.

During a break, when the three of them had gathered for the first time in a while, Maysa tossed down a letter and lamented that very fact.

"We definitely need some way to gather intelligence of our own. At this rate, we might as well have our eyes shut..."

Of course, the quickest and simplest method was for Turan to ride Vije out and investigate in person, but that was merely a stopgap. The head of a great house could hardly inspire confidence in his vassals if he was forever dashing off, and how would he respond to another attack like the last one? His recent journey had certainly been necessary and yielded much, but he needed to refrain from such excursions in the future.

Naturally, House Parsha was not sitting idle. Whenever he had time, Turan tried to capture relatively docile monsters around Kalamap and tame them into mounts with the Tamer bloodline. Maysa, meanwhile, was working to make the communication magic tool she had previously created easier to use.

Finally, Solif was designing a beacon network around Kalamap, modeled on House Baraha's celebrated system.

"The beacons should work reasonably well, at least. The problem was that we didn't have enough knights to station at them, but we've gained plenty lately."

"That's good."

Turan nodded at Solif's words. With so few Illusion bloodline nobles, they could hardly relay messages as quickly and reliably as Baraha. Still, their relatively small territory made the method worth adopting.

"Well, that's enough house business for now... How has your personal training been going?"

"I think I can use about seven now. The number of times I can use each one varies."

As she answered, Maysa immediately formed a pale green blade of wind in her hand. Divine magic—the techniques those beings called "skills." Ever since she had finally succeeded in combining symbols during their battle with Badal, she had steadily practiced, increasing both the number of skills available to her and the number of times she could cast them.

Unfortunately, unlike Turan, she could not freely pull all the levers in her mind. Even those she could pull gave her severe headaches after repeated use, regardless of whether she still had mana. Though they could not be certain, it seemed that some mental resource was being exhausted.

In exchange, Maysa possessed an ability Turan lacked. She picked up the quill on the table and concentrated. Before long, blue lightning crackled from it.

"A lightning quill?"

"I managed it recently. It seems to be a technique for simply imbuing nearby objects with lightning."

Turan used the Mimic Holy Relic to look inside Maysa. He saw lightning and storms erupt whenever a hammer struck an anvil.

"You've combined three symbols?"

"Yes. But it feels unnatural and awkward somehow."

"Probably because you're missing the Strongman's power."

Both in the past and during their recent encounter, he had seen a thick, powerful hand gripping the hammer and striking the anvil inside Badal. Perhaps because Maysa lacked that hand, her hammer's blows looked oddly feeble.

"Do you think it'll help with enchanting too?"

"Enormously. I've been trying it on all the magic tools I make lately, and it definitely improves their performance. Of course, lightning magic isn't particularly effective against Arabion nobles... But it'll still affect their vassals."

Maysa's most important duty within the house was to increase its combat capabilities by making magic tools for battle. Since she was also one of their principal fighters, she could not pour every last drop of her strength into powerful magic tools the way Melo and Asiz did. Yet her power was so immense that even a moderate effort produced items useful to ordinary nobles.

As a result, Parsha's nobles and knights now possessed a generous supply of magic tools, allowing them to fight well beyond their actual abilities. With no great house of the Enchanter bloodline in existence, there was no Enchanter more powerful than Maysa.

While the two discussed enchanting, Solif, who had been concentrating beside them with his eyes closed, let out a deep sigh.

"Damn it. I still haven't got the slightest idea. It feels like I could do it if I just knew how."

Unlike Maysa, who knew how to combine the Storm Bloodline, Solif had yet to succeed in combining the Sun bloodline. Given that his aptitude for soul magic was not far behind hers, the difference likely lay in knowing the method, just as he had said.

Turan could offer little advice on that front. The Baraha elder he had fought in the past had unexpectedly combined the Strongman and guardian bloodlines rather than the Sun bloodline.

"I'd like to grab one of those gods and ask. Your grandfather wouldn't tell us, would he?"

"Of course not. He'd never tell us. And even if he did, we couldn't just follow his instructions blindly."

House Zahar was currently treating Turan and House Parsha with peculiar friendliness, but that was no reason to lower their guard. After all, Turan himself possessed a body more than enticing enough to make Zahar's gods salivate.

Their current cozy relationship, complete with a hostage doubling as a spy, was most likely only possible because Turan was openly hostile to Arabion. Regardless of whether the old war had been a kind of playacting, the two houses were likely rivals even in the gods' world. A rival's downfall was one's own happiness, after all.

"Once we bring down Arabion, we'll probably have to fight Zahar next. Or perhaps before that—maybe just before."

That was why Parsha merely continued building its strength against Arabion rather than invading. The Gray Zone bordered both houses, allowing Parsha to invade either one—but leaving it vulnerable to invasion from either as well.

After briefly discussing the complicated politics, they returned to their original subject: training their souls. Turan instructed the other two to draw their spirit forms out of their bodies.

Soon, Maysa's and Solif's spirit forms emerged and floated in the air. Turan likewise drew out his own and stood before them. Then he reached for the needles densely embedded in their heads and gently pulled.

"Ugh!"

"Aaargh!"

Fortunately, their half-groaning, half-screaming voices were spiritual and did not carry into the physical world. A little later, when Solif pleaded for him to stop, Turan eased off and checked their progress.

"About four and a half out today, too."

"My head's throbbing..."

"You're sure this really helps, right?"

"I'm not certain either, but somehow I don't think removing them will cause anything bad."

The intuition of someone deeply versed in soul magic could not be dismissed as a mere hunch. Just as prophets read clouds and stars to predict the weather and the future, accomplished soul wizards developed a kind of supernatural foresight.

Of course, Turan, who had learned soul magic from an introductory book, had not reached such heights. Still, for some time now he had felt an intuition about this that verged on certainty. Otherwise, he would not have risked trying to remove the needles.

"More than anything, it's a shame we have no way to advance our soul magic beyond this. If only we could get something out of Kadram."

"Still nothing from him?"

"Nothing at all. I don't think I've even checked on him these past few weeks. I've been busy."

From relentless torture to gentle persuasion, Turan had once doggedly tried every means of coaxing so much as a word from Kadram's spirit form. These days, he had all but abandoned him. With so much else to do, he was tired of battering away at someone no more responsive than a wall.

As they debated whether to simply crush Kadram's soul, since they were getting nothing out of him, all three fell silent at once. A moment later, someone knocked on the door of the lounge.

"Enter."

At Turan's word, the door opened to admit a knight who had once belonged to House Berg but now served House Parsha directly. Looking somewhat nervous, he addressed Turan.

"A report from the south. Numerous wizards, friendly, at a distance of one hundred and fifty kilometers."

"By beacon?"

"Yes."

"They must be nearly here. The banquet preparations are complete, I trust?"

"Yes!"

"Then shall we wrap things up and get ready ourselves?"

"Let's."

Having heard the knight's report, Turan ended their gathering and rose. It was time to work as the head of House Parsha.

* * *

"May boundless glory await your new great house, Turan Parsha. And may we become your everlasting allies."

"I gratefully accept your most generous blessing, Grand Madam."

In front of Kalamap's mansion, an enormous outdoor banquet venue had been erected where neatly tended trees and lawns had once stood. At its center, Lida Ravistas exchanged formal greetings with Turan as though they were meeting for the first time.

Normally, as a young man hundreds of years her junior, Turan addressed Lida deferentially. Here, he could not. If a House Head showed deference to a mere noble, even one who had been another House Head's wet nurse, Parsha would appear subordinate to Ravista.

Still, Lida's status far exceeded what her mana might suggest, and she was exceptionally old. Treating her as an outright inferior would have been rude in the opposite direction, making his present tone a suitable compromise.

As the two representatives exchanged greetings, the Ravista nobles entering the banquet venue looked around with quiet admiration.

"They've arranged things better than I expected."

"I wasn't expecting much, either."

Though Parsha had repelled Arabion once, that achievement rested entirely on the individual prowess of Turan and a handful of powerful nobles. Everyone knew House Parsha was a hastily assembled force, far too lacking in scale and substance to merit being called a great house.

Yet Kalamap exceeded their expectations once they arrived. The area within the broad, imposing walls felt somewhat empty, but the mansion itself was magnificent. For a newly founded great house, it more than passed muster.

Naturally, Turan had a hand in this. He might have lost the Earthkeeper bloodline recently, but the expertise he had built up remained. Using earth-alteration magic, he had completed all manner of construction in a short time. Maysa and Solif, accustomed to such labor themselves, had also been a great help.

Some might dismiss such things as empty ostentation, but appearances mattered. Humans were creatures ruled by emotion, after all. Regardless of another person's true capabilities, what they saw and felt instinctively made them either intimidated or dismissive.

A little later, seated across from Lida at the head of the gathering, Turan spoke with a courtesy unlike his earlier manner.

"Thank you for coming all this way, Lida."

"Think nothing of it. The House Head asked me to convey his apologies for not coming himself. More importantly, I heard you suffered a misfortune recently. Are you all right?"

"Ah..."

By misfortune, she must mean the deaths of the Berg couple. Turan smiled bitterly and took a small sip of the wine before him.

"It's a painful wound, but everyone is trying to accept it and move forward."

"All I can say is to stay strong. Having lost many people dear to me, I know words offer little comfort."

Turan answered Lida's words, imbued with the wisdom of age, with a quiet smile. It would not do for a House Head to display his emotions so openly.

Suddenly, he realized that his rising status was binding him in yet another way. Establishing a base had put one shackle on him, leaving him afraid to venture away lest enemies attack. Restraining words and actions unsuited to his standing had added another...

A woman's voice beside him broke his reverie.

"My lord, if it isn't an imposition, might you introduce me to this lady?"

Berit Zahar. His second cousin addressed him with wide eyes, feigning innocence. Lida laughed heartily.

"In Ravista, it isn't rude to speak to someone without an introduction."

"I see! My name is Berit Zahar."

"Lida Ravistas. Zahar, you say? How might you be related to your House Head?"

"He's my grandfather."

"Then you and the Parsha House Head here are second cousins."

Like Maysa before her, Berit looked somewhat displeased at having her kinship with Turan emphasized. But she was far more skilled at controlling her emotions, and the expression vanished almost as soon as it appeared.

After exchanging a few more words with Lida, Berit seemed to sense that the older woman did not particularly welcome her conversation. She took her leave with a smile. Having seen her off with an equally gentle smile, Lida turned half-lidded eyes toward Turan.

"I'd heard the story, but you really have brought a young lady of Zahar here, Turan."

"That's how it turned out. It was one of their conditions."

"Wasn't young Maysa angry?"

"She forgave me after beating me hard enough to break my nose."

Lida slapped her knee and roared with laughter. Whenever she acted like an old woman despite her youthful face, the incongruity felt distinctly strange.

"I doubt a broken nose was the end of it. I see something familiar around young Maysa's neck."

She gestured toward Maysa, who was mingling with her cousins Melo and Asiz. Lida had recognized her necklace as Ravista's Holy Relic, the Humble Wish.

"It wasn't exactly the reason she forgave me."

"If I weren't a Ravista noble and someone gave me that, I'd be too happy to sleep. Men long for youth too, of course, but can that compare to a woman's longing? Though it would be a great gift to you as well."

Not long after declaring his love, Turan had given Maysa the Humble Wish. As Lida said, he did want his lover to remain young forever, but more importantly, it was not particularly useful to him. With his Mimic Holy Relic set to the Ravista bloodline, he would enjoy the same blessing of agelessness as they did anyway.

"The love lives of young people make entertaining conversation... but there is one thing I'd like to confirm."

"What would that be?"

"There are rather too many ears here."

At Lida's words, Turan immediately used wind magic to block the airflow around the two of them. Sensing it, she gave an impressed murmur.

"Very good."

"You may speak now."

"How close a relationship do you intend to build with Zahar?"

"I consider them potential enemies."

"I see."

Lida nodded without surprise, as though she had expected that answer.

"Indeed, if you meant to forge genuine ties with them, you wouldn't have given that young lady the cold shoulder. The House Head specifically asked me to get a clear answer on this point."

For Osel, knowing whether Turan intended to form close ties with Zahar was necessarily important. Baraha, known to be on friendly terms with Zahar, had now become Ravista's irreconcilable enemy.

Then Lida inclined her head slightly and lowered her voice to a whisper. Though she knew he had already blocked the surrounding airflow, she seemed to be emphasizing just how important and confidential this conversation was.

"Then it's time I told you why I asked that question."

Those words alone were enough for him to guess what she would say next.

"An invasion?"

"You are perceptive indeed. Yes. We intend to invade Baraha as soon as this delegation returns."

With a gentle expression, the youthful old woman announced the coming of war.