Chapter 162.2

Translator: Pai_

The friend from the northwest whom Haroon had been mentioning was likely the Biologist.

Since no one else would have the ability to create such creatures by manipulating the dead giants' corpses and souls.

“Then... this is a bit of a detour, but let’s get back to the main subject. What exactly did you mean by trying to reincarnate the Night Hunter? Are you saying my birth was part of House Zahar’s scheme?”

“That’s not it. To be honest, your birth was a rather interesting chain of coincidences. Though, considering it took thousands of years for such a thing to happen, maybe it was fate.”

With those suggestive words, Haroon picked up the glass of water he had offered Turan earlier and took a drink, as if his throat was parched.

“By the way, how much do you know about enhancing talent through Soul Magic?”

“I know that it involves manipulating immature soul-forms that haven’t fully settled yet, between the time in the womb and about one to two years after birth.”

“You barely know anything. Let me explain a little. The key lies in delicately shaping the soul’s vessel and form. Depending on how you balance the three, soul vessel, soul form, and essence, you influence aptitude for magic power, bloodline ability, and magical talent.”

Though this was the first time he'd heard of this, Turan deeply engraved Haroon's words in his mind without showing any reaction.

Since he, unlike the half-elves, couldn’t use Spirit Arts, he certainly needed to supplement his knowledge of advanced Soul Magic.

Even for the sake of the child he would have someday.

"For your reference, your partner is someone who was born after this field was refined to its extreme."

At the mention of "partner", Turan felt his heart sink for a moment.

Had that old man already noticed that he had a child, despite all his caution?

But that sudden fear was short-lived. Once he calmed down, Turan realized he had jumped to conclusions.

The old man’s words were simply a sarcastic jab at the fact that Turan had brought Berit along but hadn’t taken any further action.

Fortunately, Haroon didn’t seem to notice Turan’s emotional shift at all.

Perhaps, because he had combined the Zahar bloodline symbols, more precisely, since he had activated the Eye of Truth, he wasn’t paying attention to his opponent’s scent.

“Most likely, the souls of all the wizards who died in the Zahar–Aravion war were used to create Meisa. Dozens of nobles, hundreds of knights... or was it nearly a thousand? Even for us, it was an unprecedented level.”

“So that war happened specifically to create Meisa.”

“As far as I know, yes. To be precise, that was what the friend in the northwest wanted. I don’t know why he went so far to create such a powerful body.”

Haroon laughed heartily, then looked at Turan. A question that had suddenly come to mind left Turan’s lips.

“Then what did House Zahar gain from it?”

“Hmm?”

“If all the souls of the wizards sacrificed in the war were used to awaken Meisa’s talents, then Zahar didn’t gain anything. And you don’t seem like someone who would just serve that man. There’d be no reason to let someone else gain all the benefit, right?”

“That’s true. I also gained something from it. Do you know this? The soul of a wizard is certainly far more valuable than that of a human... but an innumerable number of human souls can replace a single wizard. And no one really counted how many civilians died during that war.”

The Zahar–Aravion war was publicly known as a conflict among wizards, with minimal civilian casualties, but that was just the official narrative.

The wizarding families situated between the two great houses were shaken so severely that even minimal public order had collapsed, was there anyone who actually counted how many had died in silence?

Haroon, with the friendliest expression imaginable, spoke words of utmost cruelty.

“Was it five hundred thousand, or six hundred thousand? With roughly that many harvested, it turned out to be quite usable.”

“You used that... on my mother?”

Hundreds of thousands of ordinary people.

Even the fact that many wizards had been sacrificed was already sickening, but compared to this, it seemed almost trivial.

Despite clearly sensing Turan’s expression of contempt, Haroon’s smile didn’t fade.

“No, I didn’t use it on your mother. This is a bit technical, so it may be hard to explain... but it’s not something that necessarily has to be used with a fixed target.”

Normally, it would be applied to a child who seems to show some potential, but it could also be used in a broader sense, designating a specific target based on principles similar to Tracking Magic.

Such as by applying constraints like “people within a certain region” or “a specific gender”.

“The target was a child of Zahar bloodline, to be born somewhere in this world. Without worrying about magical talent or aptitude for magic power, I just kept widening the soul’s vessel, wider and wider. Do you know what happens then?”

“What happens?”

“A miscarriage. An ordinary soul cannot endure such a bloated spirit body. That’s why, right now, there isn’t a single child around twenty years old, your age, within House Zahar.”

Through those words, Turan realized that there were unexpected side effects in talent cultivation through Soul Magic.

A miscarriage?

It was something he had never heard of from the half-elves, which meant either such side effects didn’t exist in Spirit Arts, or they had deliberately omitted that information.

This part, Turan thought, would be worth discussing separately once he returned.

“I waited about three years after the ritual was completed, and even after thoroughly combing through the family, not a single exceptional child emerged. I thought I had failed again and was deeply disappointed. That’s because, for this very kind of situation, we had bound the bloodline to the family, so the chance of a Zahar-blooded noble being born outside the family was almost nonexistent.”

It became clear that this was one of the reasons why wizarding families formed according to bloodlines.

Of course, there were other reasons too, but this was certainly one of them.

“But then... a miracle like you suddenly appeared. The only Zahar noble to survive that ritual. Possessing genius-level talent, massive magic aptitude, and multiple bloodline abilities. Something that wouldn’t be possible unless you had accepted the soul of one of the mightiest gods drifting somewhere in the sea of spirit bodies. As I said earlier, we only expanded the vessel of the soul, we didn’t interfere with any other part.”

“But my soul wasn’t as large as you described, was it?”

“That can’t be. If it appears that way, it’s only because you haven’t learned to properly handle the power of your soul.”

Despite having never seen Turan’s spirit body, Haroon spoke with unwavering certainty, which made Turan want to object, but he kept his mouth shut.

Haroon’s explanation, while sounding plausible on the surface, still left a few lingering questions that didn’t sit right.

However, those weren’t the kind of questions that could be answered here and now.

Instead of digging further, Turan decided to ask the one thing that had been bothering him most.

“All right. Everything you’ve said up to now seems to be true... Then may I ask just one thing? Since I've also told you that my soul size isn't that large."

“That’s what relatives are for- go ahead.”

“Why did you try to resurrect the Night Hunter?”

From the way Haroon had spoken earlier, boasting about the Night Hunter’s power, it was clear that he admired him.

But did that alone justify resurrecting someone who had disappeared thousands of years ago?

After all, Haroon already reigned as one of the most powerful beings in the world as the head of House Zahar.

Understanding this was extremely important to Turan.

If he truly was the reincarnation of the Night Hunter, then depending on the reason, the old man in front of him could be either an ally, or an enemy.

Granted, Haroon had done more than enough disgusting things to make him unfit to be considered an ally...

To Turan’s question, Haroon, unexpectedly, chose silence.

For the first time, the usually talkative old man didn’t speak for over a minute, and Turan simply watched him quietly instead of urging him.

He could sense that the question was profoundly important to Haroon, and that he was choosing his answer carefully.

For the first time since their conversation began, Turan had seized the initiative.

“Yes, the reason... Right. You’d want to know. Whether you truly are Otas’s reincarnation or not.”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you’ll think this is the sentiment of a senile old man who’s lived for millennia, but if I had to say it- it’s love. The emotion that makes humans truly human.”