Chapter 169.2

Translator: Pai_

After some time, once all the documents were sorted, Turan left his office and headed to his residence.

Not long after, a small golden eagle landed on his shoulder from high in the sky at a distance.

-You’re back, Bije?

-Yup! I dropped Solif off with the kid!

After the war ended, Turan had sent Bije along with Solif for his return.

It was time the other side began to suspect whether Varaha's army was fake or not, so the purpose was for Solif to ride Bije and quickly join the fake army to carry out a show of force.

If the family head stepped forward and displayed strength a few times, no one would dare think that army was composed entirely of commoners.

-Good job. You’re not tired?

-Not at all! But I am a little hungry!

Even though she had exerted herself in the battle and had flown nonstop for hours to transport Solif, Bije bounced energetically on Turan’s shoulder as if she weren’t tired at all.

Thanks to her affectionate energy, Turan was able to return to his residence with a smile despite his fatigue.

Wondering what Meisa, who had returned earlier, was doing, he found her deeply immersed in a book in the study.

“What are you reading?”

“Nothing special.”

He was sure it was another romance novel, so instead of asking for the title, Turan sat right next to her and pulled her into a hug.

From her faint scent, he sensed a vitality different from before.

“You seem to be in a good mood.”

“Yeah. Even though all I did was fire a few spells from the rear, going for a walk after a long time really helped lift my spirits.”

Ever since she became aware of her pregnancy, it had already been a month that she had stayed holed up in the family head’s residence.

The fact that even a brief outing could lift her mood spoke volumes about how suffocating it had been to remain shut inside this place.

Turan, too, could somewhat understand Meisa’s feelings.

From the beginning, his residence wasn’t all that spacious for a great noble house’s family head.

This was also a structural issue of the city of Kalamaf.

Since the city itself originated as a small town, there simply wasn’t enough space to build a grand residence like those of other great noble houses.

Of course, the small size of the family’s base made it easier to maintain secrecy, which was a definite advantage.

“Maybe I should just build a new city from scratch later.”

“Build a city?”

“Yeah. Design an entire metropolis from the ground up, like Morgen. We can shape the terrain with some effort... but food supply is a problem. The fundamental issue is that the Gray Zone isn’t exactly a fertile place.”

Of course, if they could import grain cheaply from the Takein Plains under Aravion’s control in the northwest, then there would be no reason to worry about food.

In terms of ingredient variety, it might lose slightly to the Land of Five Lakes, but in terms of sheer product output, it was arguably the richest place in the world.

“Come to think of it, I heard the Takein Plains haven’t been doing so well recently.”

“Why?”

“Partly due to a shortage of wizards because of the war, but more than that, it seems they’re flooded with too much grain.”

Too much of anything can be worse than too little.

The most bountiful land in the world, which produced mountains of grain every year, naturally needed markets to consume it.

But unlike in the past, when export destinations were plentiful, Aravion was now in no good position.

Trade with Carmine, which was nearby, had soured since they were at war until just recently.

And with Parsha, which ruled the southeastern Gray Zone, also at war, maritime shipping through the North Sea was practically blocked. The transport route via the Enril Desert was as good as shut down.

If it weren’t for the considerable food demand in the southern forest region, where displaced people were rebuilding cities, the economy might have already collapsed.

“...I see.”

Meisa listened to Turan’s explanation with a slightly dazed expression.

She had never really considered the idea that an overabundance of grain could lead to drastically low prices.

If Aravion had any real intention of raising Meisa as a proper successor, they probably would have at least taught her such fundamental concepts.

After chatting for a while about grain prices and market economies, Meisa finally brought up the topic that had been on her mind all along.

“So, are we heading straight to Ruvan now?”

“That was the original plan, but I think it’s better to rest for a bit first. Not for too long, maybe a few weeks.”

“Why? Last time you said it’d be better to push through right away.”

Meisa’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected answer.

Turan sat down next to her with a slightly drained smile.

“It’s not just our house’s wizards. The Varaha wizards too are mentally exhausted. It might be manageable to defend against an invasion like this time, but I don’t think we’re in shape for an offensive.”

On the way back after the battle,

Turan realized this while observing the retreating Varaha army and his own subordinates.

Even as they were basking in the joy of victory, their eyes, their movements, and even the scents that emanated from them were steeped in deep fatigue.

Not physical fatigue, but the emotional exhaustion of those who had endured repeated kill-or-be-killed battles.

It was a kind of weariness that even they themselves were likely unaware of, yet Turan, with his sharp senses, could perceive it.

“Hmm.......”

“Come to think of it, we’ve fought in battles over the past few months that would take others years or even decades to go through. No wonder they’re worn out.”

From Badal’s raid to the recent battle, there had been three large-scale battles, and if one counted all the smaller magical beast subjugations in between, it meant risking their lives over a dozen times in just the past year or two.

Considering that, under normal circumstances, those belonging to wizard families would only face such fights once every few months, or with some luck, once every few decades, this was an exceedingly short span.

Of course, not everyone had participated in such battles; some joined the family midway or stayed back to protect the base during the war. But war exuded an atmosphere that wore down even those not directly involved.

Especially among wizards, where most were distantly related if you traced the lines far enough.

“Now that I hear it, I think I understand what you mean.”

Meisa said she, too, had felt that kind of atmosphere in the past while leading the dark elf suppression squad.

She recalled how some, worn out and exhausted from continuous battle, died helplessly without ever being able to display their full strength.

And considering that most of the recent battles House Parsha had faced were human versus human, the mental fatigue must have been even worse.

After all, hunting other races taught from a young age to be nothing more than animals to be killed could never be the same as killing fellow humans in slaughter.

Of course, anomalies like Turan felt no such difference, and despite fighting more often and longer than others, he didn’t tire. But that was only because he was the strange one.

At the very least, he was self-aware enough to know that he was not normal.

“Besides, we also need to replenish our war supplies to some extent... even if I feel impatient, I can’t throw unprepared people into battle.”

When he thought about the child growing inside Meisa’s belly, he wanted to go and wipe out all the other great noble houses right away. But he couldn’t drive everyone who followed him into ruin for that.

Before being the father of an unborn child, Turan was the head of a great noble house and the shepherd leading his flock.

Meisa, quietly watching his face clouded with distress, waved her hand toward him.

“Hey, want to see something?”

“Hm? Ah......”

Looking at the spot she pointed to, Turan let out a low groan.

Meisa lifted her top slightly, and unlike before when her abdomen had been completely smooth, it was now slightly rounded.

“Until just recently, it wasn’t noticeable at all. But lately, it feels like it’s growing fast. I had to change my clothes because of it.”

“Now that you mention it, I thought the one you’re wearing looked a little different.”

Back when she was unable to eat properly due to mental stress, Meisa wore excessively loose clothing to hide her body, which had been little more than skin and bones.

After resolving that and putting on a healthy amount of weight, she had preferred tight-fitting outfits that accentuated her slender yet curvy figure. But the clothes she wore now resembled those from before.

“Honestly, I thought you’d notice sooner.”

“Sorry. My attention’s been all over the place lately.”

“I’m joking. I know how busy you are. If anything, I feel worse that I can’t be of much help in this condition.”

Meisa smiled and shook her head at Turan’s quick apology.

“Anyway, what I’m saying is, don’t be in such a rush. I think I was a bit too scared when I talked about it before... and besides, that method the head of House Zahar mentioned, it's not exactly standard, right?”

“That’s true. It’s only a problem because it’s not impossible.”

Just like what Haroon had done in the past, an attempt to massacre children of specific bloodlines would obviously require an enormous amount of resources.

Specifically, large quantities of souls, such as those inside the soul prison magic artifact Turan currently possessed, the jewel box.

While that resource could be used in many other useful ways, using it to kill Turan’s child would be nothing short of an appallingly meaningless waste.

But even knowing that, he still couldn’t feel entirely at ease.

Because someone in the world, someone with terrifying malice toward Turan, might still attempt it.

“Wanna try putting your ear here? I think you can hear something now.”

“Really?”

At Meisa’s words, Turan quietly brought his ear to her belly.

As she said, not long after, there came a soft 'thump, thump', like something lightly bouncing.

The sound was so faint that even a noble’s keen hearing wouldn’t catch it unless their ear was pressed directly against it.

“It’s real...”

He had seen many pregnant women before and had often heard the movements of babies in the womb, but this was, of course, the first time he had ever placed his ear directly on one.

It was completely different from hearing it from a distance, a sensation that felt as if he was experiencing life itself up close.

At that moment, a voice echoed within Turan’s mind.

-I want to hear it too! Turan and Meisa’s baby!

Bije, who had been resting quietly, suddenly jumped forward between the two and shouted mentally.

Meisa, who had been startled and pulled back, pushed out her belly with a smile after hearing Turan's explanation.

“Okay, Bije, you can listen too.”

However, despite the anticipation, unlike Turan, Bije couldn’t hear anything even when she brought her head right up to Meisa’s belly.

Because it had not yet been three full months into the pregnancy, the fetus was still too small, and Bije’s hearing wasn’t sharp enough to detect such faint movement.

If she had been a magical beast descended from an animal with exceptional hearing, she probably could have heard it, but golden eagles, while possessing extraordinary eyesight, didn’t rank high in auditory perception.

-I can’t hear anything...

“It’ll get louder as the baby grows. Just wait a little longer.”

Turan smiled as he stroked the sulking Bije.

Even just spending time like this made the gloom he’d been feeling during the postwar cleanup seem to fade away entirely.

*

After such a sweet break to recover from mental fatigue, Turan decided to refocus on his duties.

This time, not as the head of House Parsha, but as an adversary to the gods.

Specifically, managing the souls of the two gods collected in the latest battle.

[It’s good to see you, Jemel. Or perhaps you have a real name? What should I call you?]

The young man standing in the middle of the cold prison looked to be in his early twenties.

Though his features were quite different, his face resembled someone from the same region as Cadrum, who had been captured earlier.

Most likely, this was Jemel’s physical body from before he had possessed a player, his form from when he was still alive.

[...What is it you wish of me, head of House Parsha?]

Jemel came forward in a lowly posture from the start, which made Turan smile, though inwardly he raised his guard.

From his experience, those who knew how to bow were often more cunning behind the scenes than the ones who stood their ground upfront.

[Excessive formality isn't necessary. If you work faithfully as a prisoner here, I can provide some conveniences. However...]

Just as he had done with Reshion and the other half-elves before, Turan calmly issued a warning to Jemel.

If he attempted any shallow tricks like separating his consciousness to avoid interrogation, he would be annihilated immediately.

[You might think lightly of my warning, so let me show you an example.]

What he brought out was a soul fragment of Cadrum that had been placed in another prison.

Though a small portion had been lost because Turan had consumed it, enough remained of the horribly shattered fragment to identify it as the soul of a former god.

Jemel’s eyes widened.

[J-Junseo...]

[Junseo?]

At Turan's question, Jemel closed his mouth for a moment before frankly revealing that he knew Cadrum, who used the name "Alt" in the game, from the world outside the game.

[I see.]

From what Turan understood, in the “game”, it was typical not to reveal your real identity to others. So if Jemel and Cadrum i.e., Junseo, knew each other, it might mean they were closer than expected.

But to this, Jemel firmly shook his head and denied it.

[I knew him, but we weren't particularly close. We didn't meet for a good purpose...]

According to Jemel, the reason they had met was actually to settle things with their fists.

There had been a quarrel in the game, and since neither side backed down, they ended up deciding to settle it face-to-face.

Usually, in such cases, at least one of them would fail to show up, and the whole thing would fall through. But somehow, both of them came to the agreed location and actually saw each other in person.

When they finally met, it turned out that Jemel was significantly larger and older, so Cadrum got intimidated and just offered an apology, and that was the end of it.

[Well, that’s a pretty amusing story, but let’s save that for later… Do you have any information that might be useful to me?]

The conditions Turan laid out were the same ones he had previously offered to the half-elves.

If the prisoner revealed something useful to him, they would receive favorable treatment. If not, they would simply rot in that cold stone prison.

And if they failed to fully cooperate, they might end up just like Cadrum, shattered into fragments and imprisoned for eternity.

[I’ll answer anything. So please...]

Startled by the threat, Jemel immediately began to share everything he knew. Unfortunately, most of it wasn’t very useful.

The true nature of the gods or the secrets of this world had already been thoroughly divulged by Reshion and the other half-elves.

Realizing that Turan knew more than he expected, and that superficial information wouldn’t yield him anything, Jemel showed a flustered expression.

[That’s not going to cut it. You’d be better off telling me something only you know, something like confidential information from within the House Carmine.]

Even without him saying so, it wasn’t hard to guess why Jemel hesitated to spill secrets about the House Carmine.

He was likely holding onto those in case he ever got out, so he could still explain himself to their leader, the Lawyer.

But unless he exposed those internal secrets, it would be difficult for him to offer Turan any information of real value, since Turan already knew so much.

After a brief silence, as if trying to resolve his inner turmoil, Jemel finally spoke again.

[Then I’ll tell you who’s behind the recent attack!]

[Behind it?]

Turan, who had been wearing a somewhat bored expression, narrowed his eyes and leaned forward at Jemel’s words.

Noticing Turan’s growing interest, Jemel’s face lit up with relief.

[Yes, the one behind it! We were merely hired. The task was to somehow keep the House Parsha from running rampant like it is now...]