It went without saying that Armani's presence had to remain a closely guarded secret even within House Parsha. After all, was it not a wizard's duty to protect humanity from monsters and other races?

Considering how badly Arabion had been shaken when Turan cast suspicion on its leadership as White Elves, it was easy to imagine the repercussions if word spread that his own house was sheltering a merman. And that was without the added problem of Armani's relatives hearing the rumors and coming for him.

To ensure complete secrecy, Turan kept Armani hidden for several days in the deepest part of the Parsha mansion, inside his own quarters, forbidding him from even showing his face except before a select few trustworthy people.

"But didn't all the wizards in Open already see him? They saw us taking him around and everything."

"I've told them to keep quiet. If word gets out... things will become unpleasant for both sides."

Turan's expression was rather chilling as he answered Solif.

As Head of the great House Parsha, he might be the lord of Open's liege, but the bond between them was still tenuous at best. As such, Turan had paid a considerable price to silence the lord and his subordinates: not only a substantial portion of the wealth he possessed, but a useful magic tool as well.

What if rumors leaked despite a reward more than generous enough for a mere wizard house? After the carrot, he would have to wield a harsh stick. He could only hope it would not come to that.

About a week later, Asiz finally arrived with a newly made magic tool, looking somewhat haggard.

"Is this it?"

"Yes. It doesn't do anything especially impressive, so it was quick to make."

It was a mask that covered the entire head, not merely the face. Its front was plain silver, while decorations reminiscent of a lion's mane ran along the sides to conceal the distinctive fins that served as merfolk ears. Turan turned the mask over in his hands, then offered it to Armani beside him.

"Want to try it on?"

"Let's see... Oh! I can see everything around me even with this on!"

"That's what it's for."

Armani's mask had two main functions. The first, as just demonstrated, was to leave the wearer's sight and other senses unobstructed. Wearing something like that almost all day without such a function would be suffocating enough to drive anyone mad.

And the second...

"Let's see."

"Ow—that hurts!"

"Good. It won't come off."

Turan nodded after trying to pull the mask off Armani's head. The function that prevented anyone but the wearer from removing it worked even better than expected. Enough brute force would break it, of course, but at least a passing stranger could not casually knock it off.

"Wear that from now on."

"Does that mean I can go outside now?!"

"Yes. But you must never take it off in front of other people."

"Of course!"

Apparently tired of being cooped up in Turan's quarters, Armani dashed out with a cheer, his mask still on.

House Parsha's people were bewildered by this mysterious masked boy who had appeared out of nowhere. Who on earth was he, that he hid his face and received so much attention from the House Head?

Normally, they might have guessed he was a son, but Turan of Kalamap was only twenty-four. He was hardly old enough to have a son who, even behind a mask, looked to be at least in his mid-teens.

Naturally, the appearance of someone so suspicious prompted attempts to dig up information. House Parsha's most famous spy went straight to work.

"Your name is Arn, isn't it?"

"It is!"

Arn. That was Armani's new name. From his own several experiences in disguise, Turan knew that an alias close to one's real name was easier to grow accustomed to.

In truth, given that the merfolk's intelligence-gathering capabilities were limited to the North Sea's islands, he probably did not even need an alias. Still, there was no such thing as being too careful.

At Armani's innocent response, a wicked gleam entered Berit's eyes.

"I'm Berit. The House Head's younger second cousin. May I ask how you know him?"

"We're friends!"

Berit, who had subtly omitted her surname Zahar to put him at ease, frowned at the disappointingly simple answer. Friends.

She immediately recalled the people Turan called his friends. Maysa Arabion, Solif Baraha... Evidently, one generally had to be a powerful figure of a great house heir's caliber, someone on his own level, to qualify. Asiz was the one exception, but even he was a talented member of an Enchanter house, the sort every great house coveted.

'Is he Ravista's heir? His build is far too different from what I've heard for him to be Ruban's heir.'

In fact, Ravista had no heir, since its House Head Osel was still young, but Berit did not know that much. Ravista's territory was so closed off that intelligence was difficult to obtain.

After talking with him a little longer, she included a rough guess at Arn's identity in her letter to Zahar's main house: an heir to some great house, or, failing that, a noble whose bloodline would make him a useful vassal.

While the inept spy unwittingly spread false information, Turan had sent a letter far to the south, addressed to Ravista's fleet, which would be cutting across the South Sea toward Baraha's lands.

"I just hope what I'm worried about doesn't happen."

"Surely not. They can't be unlucky enough to run into them."

Turan was sitting on the lounge sofa, voicing his concerns. Maysa answered with her head resting in his lap, her eyes gently closed.

She had completed Solif's new magic tool only yesterday and was now terribly weakened. So much so that she could not even defeat most middle-tier nobles.

Ever since she had emerged from her workshop, Turan had fussed over her like this, ensuring she never strayed beyond his protection wherever she went. Sometimes Berit's eyes blazed with jealousy at the sight, but his excuse was far too solid for her to complain. What could she say when he was providing close protection for his house's strongest fighter because she was unwell?

"Here. Open wide."

"I have hands, you know."

It was mealtime. Despite her grumbling, Maysa opened her mouth and accepted the spoonful of soup Turan offered.

As she quietly worked her mouth, she suddenly remembered the days when they had met at the bakery several years ago. Back then, merely imagining being fed had seemed outrageously indecent and shameless.

How had such displays of affection become an everyday occurrence in just a few years? Though, when it came to shamelessness, little could compare with knocking her unconscious, shoving a tube down her throat, and pushing food through it. She had accepted it then because her health was so poor and the situation so desperate, but in retrospect, it was truly appalling.

When she looked at Turan with these thoughts in mind, he tilted his head.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

Not that she disliked their present circumstances, of course. Was this how a chick felt beneath its mother's protection?

Unlike fighting shoulder to shoulder as comrades, there was a certain comfort in being utterly helpless and receiving protection. For years after losing her mother, she had lived without anyone she could trust to protect her. To Maysa, this brought a nostalgic sense of returning to childhood.

* * *

While the two lovers freely showered each other with affection, unconcerned with anyone else's gaze, Vije returned from the South Sea with a reply. Turan had obtained Lida's permission beforehand to collect some of her hair and give it to Vije, allowing the eagle to use tracking magic to locate the warship precisely in the middle of the sea and deliver the letter.

The black eagle, whose feathers still carried the scent of the sea, proudly demanded her reward.

- I worked hard, so give me something tasty!

"Of course. It's all ready, my lady."

Though Vije sometimes enjoyed intellectual pursuits, reading histories and other books as Lida had advised, fine food remained her most fundamental pleasure. While she feasted on a whole honey-glazed roast pig, Turan unfolded Lida's reply.

[Your letter arrived safely. Fortunately, we have not encountered the great sea serpents you mentioned, though merfolk sightings have certainly increased. We are currently passing south of the Enril Desert, and there are even rumors that some merfolk have gone inland rather than attacking the coast. Take care, as some may be heading toward Kalamap.]

The rest recounted small incidents involving Osel during the voyage and gave their planned landing date. She had doubtless written in the hope that Turan would send Solif in time, as promised.

Folding the finished letter, Turan sighed in relief that the worst scenario he had imagined had not come to pass.

The sudden merfolk appearances were surely caused by other merfolk clans, who had fled all the way to the South Sea to live, panicking at the arrival of the great sea serpent clan. And from the postscript at the very end, he could infer something else.

"That's a relief. It looks like the great sea serpent clan has already headed up toward the North Sea. It would have been awful if they'd run into Ravista."

"You think they're the group that went inland?"

"Otherwise, merfolk have no reason to venture into the desert. Ordinary merfolk would almost certainly end up as dried fish, oases or not."

As Armani's survival for several months in the hold of a pirate ship had shown, merfolk suffered no serious difficulties simply from living out of the water. Unlike human skin, however, theirs was protected by a slightly slippery mucus, which needed regular replenishment of moisture. That was why a bathtub filled with cool water was always kept ready in Armani's quarters.

"Arn, how well could your people fight on land?"

Turan used the alias to help him get accustomed to it in everyday conversation. Armani tilted his masked head from side to side. Each movement made the lion's mane on the sides sway, and he seemed to enjoy the sensation.

"Hmm. It's not that we can't fight on land, but we'd be much weaker than near water. I'd guess about half as strong..."

"That much, huh."

Turan clicked his tongue softly and discarded one of his prepared plans: using Berit to leak news of the great sea serpents' northward journey to Zahar.

If the great sea serpents could retain a fair amount of their strength on land, he could profit by having the two sides tear each other apart. But if Armani was right, they were more likely to be slaughtered without much of a fight. Worse still, Zahar might subdue them or negotiate with them and bring them onto its side.

Better to let them head to the North Sea as planned and fight Karmine instead. During the conversation, Solif took Lida's letter, read it, and let out a startled breath.

"Three weeks from now?"

"That's right. We need to join them a little early, in case Baraha gets advance warning and comes out to mount an active defense."

Since Baraha's heartland could not be reached directly from the South Sea, the basic plan was to land in the grasslands and head north, just as Turan's party had once done. At Turan's words, Solif took several deep breaths, as though his chest felt tight.

"Nervous?"

"Very."

Like most wizards of the great houses, Solif had no particularly close personal connection to his House Head. That would not be true of every heir; in his case, it was most likely because he had been raised as a vessel, and they had wanted to avoid introducing any unwanted influences during his education.

Turan made a small gesture toward him.

"Still, you've got your new equipment. Put some faith in that."

"Heh."

Solif stroked the cloth hanging down his back and grinned broadly. It was the magic tool Maysa had recently made. Thanks to nearly a month's investment of her strength, and her willingness to accept a period of helplessness afterward, its capabilities outstripped even most Holy Relics.

"Don't rely on that alone, though. You're still practicing soul magic regularly, right? And ordinary magic."

"Ugh, the nagging... Of course I am."

"Then bring out your spirit form. Let's pull out a few more needles today."

"Urgh."

Solif shook his head with an expression of utter dismay, but obediently brought out his spirit form.

Maysa's spirit form had weakened from her recent painstaking work on the magic tool and her struggle with its aftereffects, so Solif was the only one currently undergoing needle removal.

Their persistent efforts had paid off: the hundreds of needles present at first had dwindled to forty or fifty.

"At this rate, we might somehow get them all out before the expedition..."

"You're sure something good will happen if we remove them?"

"I told you, yes."

Of course, Turan did not know exactly what effect it would have, but his intuition, bordering on certainty, told him it would at least do no harm. Once again, the sounds of needles being pulled and brief screams echoed only through the spiritual world.

* * *

Did they not say it was always quietest before the storm? As war drew near, House Parsha grew calmer than ever.

Maysa gradually recovered and left Turan's side to resume her daily life, while Solif was frequently away training.

Meanwhile, Turan was so busy that even two of him would not have been enough. As Parsha's House Head, he received the lords of the various cities that had become his vassals, heard and addressed their grievances, and approved measures to handle major issues affecting the city and the Gray Zone as a whole...

On top of that, he personally oversaw combat training for Parsha's nobles and knights, the force directly under his command. For wizards who had reached a certain level, another wizard's advice usually amounted to unwanted interference, but Turan was a different case.

"You've improved a great deal, Ozo. You're casting twice as fast."

"I-it's an honor, my lord!"

The lower-tier noble from the nearby House Korkan cried out, deeply moved that Turan remembered his name correctly. These wizards, levied in House Parsha's name, remained rooted in their own houses even as they served as Turan's direct troops. Naturally, they had little personal attachment to him and were not an easy force to command.

To address that, Turan not only had his Enchanters make magic tools for them, but also offered advice on their spellcasting techniques and words of encouragement whenever he had the time.

At first, Parsha's wizards had thought their powerful but young House Head was foolishly meddling on the strength of his own might alone. Yet their skills improved each time they followed his advice, until they could no longer dismiss it.

'This sort of thing used to be difficult.'

Recalling his first attempts to teach Asiz magic, Turan laughed inwardly. Back then, he had been frustrated, unable to understand why other wizards could not learn and wield magic as easily as he did. But meeting so many people over the course of his life had naturally helped him grow accustomed to that as well.

For those less capable, he had to teach from a lower vantage point. Had traveling widely and experiencing so much from a young age allowed him to internalize a lesson that even people dozens of times his age struggled to learn?

Once the day's work was done, Turan addressed those diligently practicing their magic.

"After dinner tonight, all troops I have designated are to assemble at the mansion's third training ground."

"Yes, my lord!"

Parsha's wizards responded to their exalted House Head's orders with obedience, not questions. That was the authority he had earned over the past two months or so by approaching his troops as a teacher.

Turan looked down at their respectfully bowed heads with a conflicted expression.

'Do I really have to take them...?'

He could not shake the thought of taking only Maysa and Solif instead. Those two were unlikely to die, but if he brought a larger force, if he brought the weak, some of them would perish.

Yet a shepherd sometimes had to push his sheepdogs into the jaws of danger. While the wolf's attention was on the dogs, the shepherd would have an easier time planting a sling stone in the enemy's head.

Leaving the training ground, Turan looked up at the sun shining brightly overhead. Tonight, when that sun had set and the moon rose, they would be far to the east, in Baraha's lands.