The Baraha wizards went pale as the thousands of javelins Osel Ravistas had conjured hurtled toward them.

It was an imposing enough sight to justify their reaction. Even ordinary javelins thrown by ordinary people would hurt at that quantity and speed, and these had been launched by the head of a great house wielding a Holy Relic. If they took the attack without doing anything to stop it, that single barrage might annihilate Baraha's entire army.

Naturally, Baraha did not stand idly by. At the head of the army, a middle-aged man who looked about forty solemnly raised the shield in his left hand.

A translucent barrier sprang up around Baraha's entire force of roughly a thousand, intercepting the rain of javelins.

The javelins battered the barrier with a rolling thunder of impacts, like the hoofbeats of a heavenly army descending from above.

"My lord..."

"Our House Head is with us! Have no fear!"

Resion Baraha, the head of House Baraha.

Hidden by stealth, Turan carefully studied the enemy leader he was seeing in person for the first time.

The first things that caught his eye were reddish-brown eyes and blond hair a little longer than Solif's. The man wore faintly luminous silver metal armor, with a shield in one hand and a longsword in the other. Judging by his appearance alone, one would have thought his bloodline specialized in close combat rather than that he was a Sun-bloodline noble.

"Looks like he's come fully armed too."

Solif murmured that every item the man carried was a Holy Relic handed down within Baraha. Then again, it would be absurd to hold back their treasures when the House Head himself was taking the field.

"Osel!"

With a sharp cry, Baraha's House Head swung his longsword. The Light of Judgment hovering behind him coiled around its blade, then shot forward with the momentum of the swing. Osel was about to brace himself against the golden flash when Solif stepped in front of him.

"Let's see how this works."

The cloak draped across Solif's back shone brilliantly, intertwining with the Light of Judgment to become a whip.

It was the magic tool called the Sun Cloak. Besides assuming whatever shape its owner wished to aid in close combat, it could amplify the power of the Sun bloodline, as it was doing now.

Solif's massive golden whip met Resion's slash, unleashing light and heat in the middle of the plain and instantly charring the green weeds black. In that moment, a field brimming with life became a scene from the depths of hell.

Was it because of those few earthshaking exchanges? The eagerness to charge had given way to a subdued atmosphere, and Resion was the first to speak.

"Sol... My son, I am sorry we must meet like this."

"Your son, my ass. Who the hell are you calling your son?"

Passing authority from parent to child was considered more proper than handing it to a stranger, so tradition dictated that an heir who was not the House Head's biological child be adopted as a formality. Solif was therefore Resion's adopted son, and the address was not technically incorrect.

Of course, no one in the world was foolish enough to regard someone who had tried to steal their body as a parent.

Resion answered the harsh retort with a gentle smile.

"Oh dear. You have acquired some poor manners since leaving the house. I certainly did not teach you to behave that way."

His speech was refined and old-fashioned, his gestures graceful. The lord of the great House Baraha was mild and dignified, hardly seeming like someone who had launched a treacherous ambush.

According to Solif, he too had been taught to maintain that demeanor while living at the main house. Apparently, it had been so painfully at odds with his nature that he had found it agonizing.

"Still, I expected you to come alone. Where did you gather an army? How ever did you manage it?"

Solif narrowed his eyes at Resion. He spoke as though he had known Solif would come...

No one within House Parsha would have passed on the fact that Solif was coming as a reinforcement, so the information must have leaked from Ravista.

That explained why Resion looked triumphant rather than unsettled by Solif's presence, as if an opportunity had fallen into his hands. He had anticipated Solif's participation and prepared something to meet it.

While that thought was taking shape, Resion turned his gaze toward Osel.

"You have recovered. That cannot have been easy."

"It hurt quite a bit. Nearly killed me, too. I see you managed to recover yourself."

"Unfortunately, not yet. The hole you put in my side has not quite healed."

As they spoke, Osel lightly rubbed his stomach. He still vividly remembered the agony of the horribly white flames this man had summoned, endlessly burning away at him.

"I don't think we have anything more to say."

"Indeed. There is little point in keeping up appearances when we already know each other so well. Come, then. Dance until you die."

Osel hurled his spear and Resion swung his sword. At that same moment, thousands of wizards charged into battle across the plain with a roar.

Shouts, screams, and the explosions of magic filled the once-quiet field.

The only way to judge an opponent's strength was by their attire. Shoulder to shoulder with their comrades, the wizards wielded their magic tools and fired familiar attack spells, praying that the enemies before them were weaker than they were.

Sometimes they met a weaker foe and killed them in an instant. Sometimes they met a stronger one and died. The relatively fortunate found themselves evenly matched and fought longer duels.

The duels between the upper-tier wizards were somewhat more elegant. They sought opponents more or less suited to their own strength, but unexpectedly, Baraha had nearly as many high-ranking nobles as Ravista.

That should have been impossible, considering how many powerful Baraha wizards Turan and his companions had killed in their previous encounters.

'Reinforcements?'

Ravista's high-ranking nobles realized that some of their opponents excelled at close combat—far beyond the usual standard. There was no mistaking the identity of people with such abilities.

They were nobles of Ruban, the great house that combined the Strongman and guardian bloodlines...

Somehow, Baraha had secured troops from House Ruban. Had they perhaps promised to cede part of their territory?

This was the move Resion had prepared. His calculation was that while Baraha dominated the duels between high-ranking nobles, he could hold Osel and Solif at bay, ensuring his army overwhelmed the enemy.

"You're from Ruban—!"

"Come on!"

Caught unprepared in close combat, a Ravista noble was stabbed and battered by fists in an instant. Two comrades intervened just in time to rescue him, and healing magic swiftly restored his battered body.

That was the battlefield advantage of a great house of Healers. Their offense and defense might fall short of combat bloodlines, but as long as they retained their mana, their comrades could return them to the front in moments.

Yet even with the wounded returning one after another, the battle did not turn in Ravista's favor. Ruban had sent so many reinforcements that the enemy had nearly twice as many nobles of the upper-middle tier and above.

"This is looking bad..."

"Just hold on! Once our House Head defeats theirs—"

The wizard trying to rally his comrades fell silent at the sight before him. A Ruban noble poised to attack suddenly collapsed, blood spurting from his chest.

And he was not the only one. As though an invisible reaper stalked among them, nobles of Baraha and Ruban crumpled helplessly, holes appearing in their bodies.

"It can't be..."

Only then did they realize that the famed head of House Parsha, Turan of the Zahar bloodline, had vanished from sight some time ago.

* * *

Solif's whip collided with Resion's longsword with a deafening crash. The heat bursting between them seared his cheek with a hiss, but the burn vanished almost as soon as it formed, thanks to Osel's healing magic from directly behind him.

Healing was not Osel's only contribution. He kept Resion under pressure with javelins from the Whale Hunter while using the life-acceleration magic Maysa favored to draw vines from the ground and constantly bind his legs.

Naturally, plants remained plants even when imbued with a House Head's power, and the Light of Judgment burned them away in an instant. But losing even a moment of rhythm like that could be fatal in close combat.

"Hah. Two against one."

Did he think these odds were manageable? The moment Resion spoke with that confidence, Maysa, who had concealed herself among the troops, appeared directly overhead and called down lightning.

And it was no ordinary lightning. It was Blue Lightning, a skill created by combining the Storm Bloodline's symbols.

A blinding flash washed the surroundings white as a brilliant blue bolt struck the crown of Resion's head.

"Gah!"

Resion's armor was a powerful Holy Relic capable of shrugging off most lightning attacks, but it could not stop a skill wielded by a noble as powerful as Maysa.

His whole body trembling, Resion contorted his composed face and hurriedly raised his shield to block the follow-up attacks. Static crackled across his metal armor.

"You! How are you... here?"

Two of their three strongest had come? Had Parsha gone mad? What would they do if Arabion invaded again while they were all here?

Only recently, Resion had even used Zahar to gather intelligence swiftly and discreetly. Solif had disappeared a short time ago, but Turan and Maysa were reportedly staying quietly at home.

But if Maysa was here...

Resion quickly healed himself, then turned to survey his surroundings. His upper-tier nobles, who should have been overwhelming the enemy, were being wiped out.

There was no need to ask who was responsible.

"Turan!"

Casting aside his earlier elegance, Resion roared and thrust his longsword skyward. The halo coiled behind him surged upward, turning into a silver sun that lit several kilometers in every direction as brightly as day.

Turan, who had been slaughtering Baraha and Ruban nobles under cover of stealth, clicked his tongue and let his concealment fall.

"Damn."

He held the longsword he had used in an assassination not long ago, a magic tool specialized in piercing every kind of defense. With Turan's mana added to it, even a guardian's defenses were easily penetrated.

Of course, his sling could pierce most guardians' defenses without much trouble too, but it would not have allowed him to kill so silently and one-sidedly. The greater the force exerted, the farther its effects spread.

"P-Parsha's House Head..."

"How long has he been here?!"

Watching Baraha's few remaining high-ranking wizards recoil in horror, Turan joined those confronting Resion. He judged that the other battle had already been decisively won.

"Good work."

"Hardly work. It's a shame, though. A little longer and I'd have killed them all."

The damage Turan had already inflicted was certainly devastating enough. Five middle-tier nobles, six upper-tier nobles, and three top-ranking nobles had died by his hand.

Four of his victims had even been vessels. Intent on unleashing their divine powers to sweep away mortals, they had lost their bodies in vain without even understanding why they were dying.

By now, they were probably dreaming of resurrection somewhere in Baraha's or Ruban's strongholds.

"Did you catch them?"

"No. The conditions weren't right. I'll settle for catching that one for now."

Turan shook his head at the question about capturing their souls. Despite his considerable progress in soul magic, his body remained defenseless while he caught a flying spirit form, making it difficult to attempt in a chaotic battle like this.

It hardly mattered anyway. Once they won the war, he would track down their strongholds and capture every last one.

Watching Turan and his companions converse so casually, Resion spoke with a look of bewilderment. There was scarcely a trace of his earlier elegance left in his face. His true nature had finally been laid bare.

"What in the world are you thinking?"

"About what?"

"How could you abandon your base and come here? That bastard won't sit still..."

"I'm worried about that myself, so I'd like to get back quickly."

Recognizing Turan's words as the signal, Solif and Maysa attacked at once: a golden whip formed from the Sun Cloak and a crashing Thunderbolt.

Resion deftly parried both with his shield. At that instant, a metal ball came buzzing toward his face and ricocheted with a bang.

"So that's why you aren't wearing a helmet. You've got some kind of defense around your head too."

Turan clicked his tongue and focused his awareness on Resion's inner self. Just as with Badal before, four bloodlines were intertwined within him, interacting with one another.

The first things he noticed were the Illusion bloodline's shining hands and the Pyromaniac bloodline's round ball of fire. The fire intertwined with the light above the hands, becoming silver holy flames.

Beside them were a shield representing the guardian and a staff entwined with two white snakes representing the Healer. The flame-wreathed hands held one apiece. They matched the Silver Sun's four symbols exactly, according to the information Turan had gathered.

'But he doesn't seem to have been using any skills at all...'

Apart from the light magic he had used upon noticing Turan, Resion had relied solely on his abilities as Baraha's House Head. Just as Badal had before.

As though reading Turan's mind, Resion clenched his teeth and pointed his longsword at him.

"Whatever it takes, I will kill you."

"Go ahead and—"

Before Turan could finish saying "try," Resion charged at him as fast as light itself. Shocked, Turan hurled himself aside. The longsword, blazing with silver light, sliced through all his defensive magic tools in an instant and tore him open from collarbone to flank.

Had he not propelled himself with an explosion of the Spirit of Fire, his upper body would have been cut in two.

"Stop him!"

With that urgent cry, Osel immediately aimed the Whale Hunter and fired javelins, moving toward Turan as he retreated. Together with Turan's own healing magic, his power closed the enormous wound in an instant.

"Was that... a 'skill'?"

"Yes. It seems he's decided to show his true strength. Be careful."

During that brief exchange, Resion was making short work of Solif and Maysa, who had hurried to block his path.

White flames rose from the hand that had discarded his shield and clung to the Sky Guardian covering Maysa's upper body. Meanwhile, his longsword produced more than a dozen illusory blades in an instant, slashing Solif all over.

"Th-this is insane..."

Solif hastily reshaped the Sun Cloak into a shield and retreated, appalled by the overwhelming force. Now that Resion was making full use of his skills, his fighting strength was on an entirely different level.

Even this was weaker than Badal Arabion had been in their previous battle, but it was worlds apart from the ordinary House Head-level power Resion had displayed moments earlier. Had he used his skills this freely when ambushing Osel, Ravista would likely have been destroyed that very day.

Watching from behind, however, Turan noticed that Resion did not look well despite his ferocious resistance.

'Just as I thought. I don't know why, but like Badal, he can't use his powers freely.'

In that case, all they needed to do was buy time. Asking Osel to heal Solif, Turan gripped his longsword and charged straight at Resion.

Their collision resounded with a crash. Driven back several steps, Resion stared at Turan in shock.

"You... Don't tell me..."

That impact was inconceivable for a Zahar-bloodline noble. Given the amount of mana his opponent possessed, there was only one way he could display such prowess. Either he had pushed the Berserker bloodline's power to its absolute limit, or—

"Ruban's power is pretty good too."

Turan smiled. A little earlier, he had replaced the Berserker bloodline with that of a Ruban noble he had killed. And that was far from all he could do.

Awakening his spiritual awareness, Turan combined the Storm symbols and cast acceleration on himself, evading a scarlet beam from the furious Resion's hand. It swept through the spot Turan had vacated, scoring a great line across the earth for nearly a kilometer.

"Soul magic too?"

"I thought you already knew."

The gods of Arabion and Zahar had known for a long time, but apparently they had not properly informed Baraha. In truth, the rumors about Turan were so muddled that reliable information would be difficult to obtain without speaking to the gods.

They ranged from the fairly accurate claim that he was a Zahar bastard to the complete truth that he was of mixed Zahar and Arabion blood. Others claimed he was of mixed Baraha blood and Solif's half brother, or a child born between Ravista's House Head and someone from Zahar.

Too much information could be more troublesome than none at all.

Naturally, the ensuing exchange went overwhelmingly in Turan's favor. He supplied firepower from the rear, launching sling projectiles or pouring out the Water of Death. Whenever Solif was injured, he switched to the Ruban bloodline and took over the front line while his friend healed.

Resion fought fiercely, unleashing every sort of skill, but he could not overcome four-to-one odds. Dragged this way and that like a bull facing a matador, he cried out desperately in an exhausted voice.

"Why do you resist us like this...? We are your fathers! We made this world! Without us, you would still be livestock!"

"Your owners changing doesn't mean you're no longer livestock."

How could he spout that nonsense so blithely with Solif, who had nearly become their victim, standing right there? Did he lack empathy, or intelligence? Perhaps desperation had simply left him saying whatever came to mind.

In any case, a more detailed conversation was best held somewhere private. Even within Parsha and Ravista, only a handful of senior figures knew the gods' true nature.

As a wind blade from Maysa's hand severed the neck of the now-helpless Resion, Turan took the jewelry box from his clothes, closed his eyes, and freed his spirit form from his body.

An immense mass of silver radiance rising from Resion's body greeted him.