Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 12 Turan was born of the Zahar bloodline, a family known alternatively as the Pursuers or the Hunters.
Their defining traits were an exceptional sense of smell, heightened reflexes, and a natural aptitude for tracking and stealth magic. Among these, their stealth was particularly potent; it wasn't merely about becoming invisible, but rather vanishing entirely from the perception of any living being.
However, the Zahar were merely one of many powerful families, far from being absolute rulers. Even in their long-standing war against the Arabion family—the house to which Keorn belonged—they had held only a slight advantage and had never secured a definitive victory.
So how could Turan, who wasn't even a direct descendant but merely the child of a knight and a commoner, be so special?
"Could you tell me more about my bloodline?"
"Shouldn't you ask your parents about that?"
"I'm an orphan."
"Is that so?"
A human might have offered a hollow word of sympathy, but as a spirit, the Librarian simply moved on. Turan didn't care; he wasn't looking for pity.
"Hmm, shall I take a look for you? You just need to consent to me examining your body."
"I do."
Upon receiving consent, the Librarian plunged his finger deep into Turan's chest. Being an illusion, there was, of course, no pain.
The Librarian closed his eyes, his expression shifting as if he were observing something deep within. Finally, he let out an exclamation.
"There are some minor traces mixed in, but the core mass is Pursuer, Hunter. This is the Zahar trait, isn't it? The ones who live in the desert?"
"Yes."
Since the spirit had no way of leaking this information to anyone else, Turan answered honestly.
The Librarian continued to peer deeper, then let out another cry of surprise.
"Oh? Ho... there's one more! It's a blend!"
"A blend?"
"It means the power you possess is the result of two bloodlines combining. You understand what that means, don't you? It was mentioned in one of the books I recommended."
Turan recalled the book about mage families he had read on his second day. There had indeed been a section on the subject.
Bloodline Combination.
Usually, the bloodline abilities of nobles were inherited intact or weakened in their children, but in rare cases, they grew stronger. This happened when the abilities of parents from different bloodlines fused, blooming into a more diverse and powerful force.
For instance, a child born to one parent who controlled water and another who controlled ice might gain the ability to manipulate both. Or a child of a healer of wounds and a healer of diseases might be able to cure both.
Families founded by those who gained such immense power through bloodline combinations were known as the Great Houses.
"Then what is the other one?"
"I don't know. It's still locked. It will likely open as you grow stronger."
The Librarian explained that this kind of 'locked bloodline' was a common symptom in the first generation of a new combination. This meant that half of Turan's power undoubtedly came from his mother's side.
Mother...
In his memories, Turan's mother was always gentle and elegant, yet she also seemed perpetually exhausted. It was only natural, as she had to perform the grueling work of a shepherd—work difficult even for sturdy men—while raising a child alone without a husband.
No matter how much he thought about it, she hadn't seemed like a mage.
But looking back, she had been far too polite and well-educated for a mere commoner. Even in a city like this, let alone the Hisaril Hill where Turan grew up, the number of people who could read fairy tales at their leisure was small.
Perhaps she was the descendant of some noble house, her bloodline thinned to the point where she couldn't even possess the mana of a knight.
After a long silence, Turan finally organized his thoughts and wiped his face with both hands.
"Alright, I think I understand. Thank you."
One of the goals Turan had set for himself when he began his journey was to trace his parents' footsteps. He wanted to know why his father, whom people called a 'good man,' didn't live with his family, who he was, where he was, and why his mother had to flee with Turan to the western edge of the world.
Thanks to what he had just learned, Turan felt a surge of motivation. The answer likely lay in the lands of the Zahar, the source of half his bloodline: the Enril Desert.
*
After discovering the true nature of the library spirit, Turan stopped merely reading in solitude and began asking the Librarian for explanations on various subjects.
Above all, the Librarian possessed knowledge from books that had been plundered and lost over the past thousands of years. The Natural Laws he taught—since the physical books were gone—were nothing short of a treasure trove.
"You're saying there are that many tiny substances invisible to the eye?"
"Indeed. If you suspend water in the air and shape it into a lens like this to look through, you can see for yourself."
Following the Librarian's instructions, Turan created a uniquely shaped water droplet and held it to his eye. To his amazement, objects were magnified dozens of times over.
Through the subsequent explanations, Turan learned that all sorts of diseases were caused by these microorganisms and that the decay of living things was the result of these fungi and bacteria feeding.
That wasn't all.
The refraction of light, the generation of heat through friction, the principles behind how living things are injured and heal...
Much of it was connected to the principles of magic he had learned from Keorn. For example, where he previously only knew that lightning magic was easier to use when there were many clouds, he now understood why.
There were a few fields that even the Librarian didn't fully understand or could only explain superficially, but it was enough to fundamentally change Turan's perception of the world.
Furthermore, this knowledge didn't end with mere understanding.
"Then, I'll try an experiment with decay."
Turan pointed a finger at an apple he had brought from outside. Before long, the apple began to rot rapidly, as if time had been accelerated hundreds of times over.
"How is it?"
"It's incredible..."
Such magic hadn't been impossible before, but its effectiveness and mana consumption had been hideously inefficient.
But not anymore. By simply understanding the principles of decay, Turan could achieve the same result with far less mana. His magical proficiency had improved simply because his way of perceiving the world had changed.
It was as if he had 'mastered' the spell in an instant.
Turan chuckled at a sudden thought.
"The Head of the Baltas family was wrong."
"About what?"
"He said this library didn't have any amazing ancient magic or secrets to increase mana."
In reality, the Librarian didn't know such secrets either, but these laws were far more valuable than any secret technique. Turan suspected that a few powerful families might be monopolizing this knowledge. If every mage knew these things, their competitive edge would vanish.
The Librarian agreed with that sentiment.
"I wondered why the level of human knowledge seemed to be declining over time. If what you say is true, it makes sense."
The Librarian said that the natural laws he was teaching Turan only appeared in books written by the Frea Divine Clan themselves during the era of the Old Empire. After the empire's fall, such books became extremely rare.
"Come to think of it, you said this library was built during the Old Empire. Was the creator who made you a god?"
"Yes. The Lame Goddess created me. In fact, she likely created the vast majority of the Old Empire's legacy. Even among gods, few possessed a talent for creation."
The Lame Goddess.
She was the greatest blacksmith and architect of the Frea Divine Clan, the one who built the magnificent palaces and powerful treasures used by the gods. Because of this, families that crafted magic tools all claimed to be her descendants.
"Did you ever speak with the Goddess?"
"If you're going to ask what kind of being she was, I'll tell you now that I don't really know."
He said that after creating the library and instilling him with his mission, the Lame Goddess had vanished immediately, as if she were too busy to linger for even a moment.
When Turan sighed in disappointment, the Librarian cackled.
"Don't be so disappointed, boy. There are many legacies of the gods in this land. Perhaps among them, there's a spirit who stayed closer to the gods than I did."
And so, Turan spent ten days talking and learning directly from his new teacher. Finally, he gave his farewell.
"You're leaving?"
"Yes. The master of this place is starting to give me some very pointed looks."
In truth, the only loss incurred by Turan staying was a bit of food money, but it seemed the Head of the Baltas family found it irritating to have the prey he had missed constantly flickering before his eyes.
Turan briefly regretted not leaving a bit of room for negotiation instead of refusing outright, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Doing so wouldn't have been proper etiquette for a guest.
"I see."
The Librarian's face remained stoic. There wasn't a hint of sadness or frustration at parting with the first conversation partner he'd had in ages. Turan realized once again that the spirit hadn't been exaggerating when he said he could wait another few thousand years.
"Well then, I'll see you again."
"Come if you want, or don't."
"There are still many books I haven't read."
In truth, there wasn't much reason left to visit the library. He had acquired most of the common knowledge he would need in life, and he had learned most of the 'Natural Laws' that would be helpful for magic.
But Turan intended to return one day. He wanted to tell more stories of the outside world to this old teacher who might wait for a very long time—perhaps even longer than Turan could remember.
*
After a brief farewell to the Head of the Baltas family, Turan immediately left Orem City.
The clothes he wore were neither the rags he had arrived in nor the fine garments he had worn as a guest of the Baltas. He wore a white shirt, stiff but sturdy trousers, durable leather boots, and a hooded cloak.
He was far from looking like a noble, but since his clothes were all new, he looked like a well-to-do traveler. The old sheepskin backpack hanging from his waist looked a bit out of place, though.
According to the map of the continent he had obtained from the library, the Enril Desert—the stronghold of the Zahar family—was a good one or two months' journey east of Orem.
There was no need to rush. If the clues about his parents were going to disappear, they would have vanished in the last eighteen years; if they were still there, they wouldn't vanish just because he was a little late.
Turan walked the path as he had before coming to Orem, hunting any magical beasts caught by his detection magic to absorb their power. He intentionally took a winding route and avoided large cities, having already experienced how tedious it was to be a guest of another family.
Without a map, he would have completely lost his way.
One difference from before was that he now paid more attention to hygiene during his travels. Having lived cleanly once, he felt a desire to maintain it, and more importantly, knowing about the existence of microorganisms made living in filth feel uncomfortable.
There was plenty of water in nearby streams and he had brought a bar of soap, so while he couldn't match the care provided by maids, he could keep himself reasonably clean.
After about nine days of walking, Turan's tracking magic picked up the traces of a magical beast once more. Judging by the hoofprints larger than a palm, it was likely a mutated horse.
However, as he approached while staying hidden at a safe distance, he saw a strange sight.
[Neeeeeigh—!]
A horse with bright red fur let out a roar in front of a large tree. As expected of a magical beast, its shoulder height was about one and a half times that of an average man.
Behind it, a person sat leaning against the tree, eyes closed and bleeding from the head as if unconscious.
At first, Turan thought the person had been attacked by the beast, but on closer inspection, the creature was actually protecting the fallen man. There was a saddle on its back, suggesting it might be the man's tamed beast.
And right next to the pair, a man and a woman dressed in unfamiliar attire were conversing with menacing auras.
"Damn devilish beast, how is a pet that strong?"
"Try to find an opening."
"Easier said than done!"
It seemed they wanted to break through the horse's defense and finish off the fallen man.
As Turan moved closer, he was startled to realize they weren't human.
Dark purple skin, silver hair, and ears that were long and pointed...
They were undoubtedly Dark Elves, beings he had only encountered in his mother's fairy tales and books.
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