Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 36 After negotiating with an innkeeper and securing a decent room, Turan headed toward the commercial district of Banipel to walk off his meal.
Since the city sat upon the Great Trade Route connecting the east and west, merchants from every corner of the world crossed paths here, bringing with them a kaleidoscope of goods and culture. Brown sugar from the Southern Sea, silks and medicinal herbs from the East... Even though the items displayed in the market were only a fraction of what passed through the city, just browsing the stalls was enough to make him lose track of time.
Turan spent a good while inquiring about new wares and buying small curiosities until something resembling a plain white stone caught his eye.
"What is this?"
"That? It's called saltpeter," the merchant replied. "It only comes from the islands of the Southern Sea. If you grind it into a powder and consume it, it's said to extend your lifespan."
Self-proclaimed elixirs of immortality were a dime a dozen and rarely worth a second glance, but the unfamiliar name jogged a specific memory.
Saltpeter... I've definitely seen that name somewhere before.
'Ah.'
Realizing where, he pulled a worn notebook from his bag. It was the item he had obtained about a month ago after killing the Fire-burner, Orvil. Several mysterious formulas were written in the back. At the time, Turan had searched for the ingredients in Abacha but had come up empty-handed.
[Soul of Fire: Mix 75 parts saltpeter powder, 15 parts wood ash, and 10 parts sulfur, then combine the three using magic.]
He didn't know what a "Soul of Fire" was, but considering it was likely related to the "god" that had influenced Orvil, he thought it might be worth crafting at least once. Given the format of the other formulas, the numbers clearly represented ratios.
Turan bought two or three lumps of saltpeter and asked the merchant, "Do you happen to have something called sulfur as well?"
"Sulfur? Never heard of it."
He continued to scour the market, asking after sulfur, until he finally got an answer from a merchant who imported goods from the East. The man explained that it was a substance primarily found in volcanic regions. While it was used for disinfection, there wasn't much demand for it, so few merchants bothered to carry it. Naturally, it was nearly impossible to find among the caravans traveling through the Enril Desert.
'If I had known, I would have looked for it in Komad. More Eastern goods would have flowed through there.'
On second thought, there were bound to be volcanoes somewhere other than the East; there was no need to go to extremes to find it. Orvil certainly wouldn't have traveled across the continent just to get sulfur.
"So, are you going to buy this brown sugar or not?"
"I don't have much of a sweet tooth," Turan declined politely.
After exploring the market a bit more, Turan headed outside the city at dusk and summoned the Golden Eagle through their Soul Tether. A few minutes later, a pitch-black shadow landed beside him.
The Golden Eagle glared at Turan before beginning to scratch words into the ground with its talons.
[Late!]
"Sorry. There was a lot to see at the market. I brought something delicious for you, too."
When he offered a piece of dried pork jerky seasoned with an exotic, pungent spice, the Golden Eagle sniffed it for a moment before eagerly tearing into it with its beak and claws.
[Delicious!]
"I'm glad. Anything happen while I was gone?"
After swallowing the last of the jerky, the Golden Eagle began to write a long string of words in the sand. It wrote so fast that Turan had to infer half of it rather than actually reading it. It mentioned a family of Golden Eagles living on the mountain opposite a huge building, foxes on the hill next to the city, a rabbit warren right beside them...
To Turan, none of this was particularly remarkable, but to the bird, every single detail was a fascinating topic of conversation.
"I'm glad you had fun. Do you think you could spend the next few days around here?"
[Why?]
"I don't think I can find a good place for us to stay together in the city. I'll come to see you every day, and we can visit other cities together later."
Turan didn't tell the Golden Eagle that its presence was too conspicuous and would make it difficult for him to pass as a commoner. He didn't want the creature to feel like a nuisance. Fortunately, living in the wild suited the bird's tastes, and it readily agreed—on one condition.
[More delicious food!]
"Of course."
*
For the next few days, Turan lived leisurely.
He spent most of his time holed up in the inn reading or practicing magic on the outskirts of the city. Occasionally, he called the Golden Eagle to play or rode it to nearby settlements to search for sulfur.
As for his magic training, since he was in the desert, he focused primarily on manipulating sand.
'This is actually quite effective.'
Turan nodded as he looked at a large crater gouged into a towering rock face. The experiment he had just conducted involved loading sand into his sling instead of a stone. He had used magic to condense the loose sand into a solid, round projectile.
A sand bullet created this way had several advantages. He could reshape it into a cone mid-flight to inflict piercing wounds or split it into several smaller clumps for an area-of-effect attack. Because it required effort to compress the sand, it consumed slightly more mana than simply throwing a rock, but the difference was negligible unless the battle was prolonged.
'I should save my stones, then. I don't have many left.'
He couldn't carry many of his favorite carved stones due to their weight and volume. He usually kept only five or six on him. If he faced a sturdy opponent like Dolf again, he would run out of ammunition and have to rely on fire magic—which, while efficient in the desert, was less subtle.
Besides projectiles, there were many things he could do with sand: binding ankles, mixing it with wind magic to create a blinding screen, or even shifting the sand to "swim" through the dunes. It was fun to exploit its ambiguous properties—more fluid than solid earth, yet heavier than liquid.
'That aside... I have no idea what those noble lords are doing in that tomb. It's already been several days.'
It had been nearly a week since he arrived, yet there was no sign of the lockdown on the Tomb of the Gods being lifted. He didn't strictly need to see it, so perhaps it was better to just move on.
While debating this, Turan reached a bold conclusion.
'Whatever. If I get caught, I'll just run.'
Having the Golden Eagle gave him a certain level of audacity. Even if he tripped a security device, what could they do once he took to the sky? He was slightly concerned about offending the spirits of the tomb, but he couldn't sit around forever.
That night, Turan took a long nap to bring his body and mana to their peak before heading toward the ruins. Since it was a moonless night, concealing himself required very little mana.
Just as the entrance came into view, he saw two knights dragging a struggling figure.
"Mmph—mmph—!"
"Dammit, why is he so loud?"
"Quiet him down. Just don't kill him yet."
The knights struck the person inside the sack hard and dragged them straight into the ruins. Turan followed behind them, cloaked in stealth, his eyes narrowing. As he expanded his senses, he detected no fewer than three nobles inside.
Were these the "distinguished guests" who had occupied the site?
Upon entering the tomb, Turan first observed his surroundings. The stone walls were fitted so tightly that not even a needle could fit between the seams. The material was an unnaturally pure white, reminiscent of the roads of the Old Empire.
Inside, relics of the Old Empire were preserved behind glass, their shapes so unique that their purposes were a mystery. There was a large, black rectangular box with a glass front, a rod connecting two circles, and even a metal plate covered in dozens of small buttons.
As he moved deeper, he found the two knights and the three nobles. And there was the man in shabby clothes who had been inside the sack.
'This is strange.'
Anxiety, fear, and something else... the same scent wafted from both the high-and-mighty nobles and the kidnapped man. It made sense for the victim, but why the nobles?
The oldest among them gestured toward the shabby man. "Good, you brought a healthy one. You! Take those supplies and go inside."
Turan's eyes widened as he looked where the noble was pointing. On one side of the white brick floor, a pitch-black vortex was swirling. It was a space where magic had clearly intervened. Beside it sat over a dozen large barrels.
"W-what is that?" the man stammered.
"I did not give you permission to ask questions. Get in."
The man's resistance was instantly suppressed. With a single command from the noble, the man's body began to move with a mechanical creak. He picked up two barrels and disappeared into the vortex.
Magic to dominate animals. It was a technique Turan knew, but it was his first time seeing it used on a human.
Turan quietly surveyed the room. What was that mysterious space, and what were they sending inside? Given the unknown variables, the wise choice was to retreat.
But...
He stared at the black void in the corner. For some reason, the vortex seemed to be calling to him. It felt as though it were waiting for him, urging him to enter.
Just then, the nobles spoke.
"Do you think Lord Perga is safe?"
"We have to hope so. We're continuing to send in food and water..."
"Should we not contact the main house?"
"Have you imagined what would happen if Lord Perga's rivals heard of this?"
Perga. It was a name he had heard before. The woman from the Zahar branch family had mentioned him as a candidate for the next head of the Zahar Clan. He had come here as a guest and was now trapped in that mysterious space.
'This could be dangerous.'
If he was a successor candidate, he would be incredibly powerful. A space that could trap such a person could easily be a death trap for Turan as well. Just as he was about to slip away, a thought occurred to him.
'Maybe this is an opportunity.'
If Perga was in trouble, Turan might be able to save him and put him in his debt. If he could infiltrate the Zahar family—just as he had the Berk family by saving Asiz—he might finally obtain information about his parents.
No, that was just a justification. An irrational impulse was seizing him. He felt he had to go inside right now.
Maintaining his stealth, Turan moved forward and swiped two of the barrels the shabby man had been carrying. Because his stealth was perfect, the nobles didn't even notice the barrels vanishing. Without hesitation, he stepped directly into the vortex.
*
'It's dark.'
That was Turan's first impression. Ever since awakening his mana and the Zahar bloodline, he had almost forgotten the concept of total darkness, yet this place was so void of light that even his enhanced vision struggled.
'Dammit.'
The moment he entered, the irrational heat in his mind cooled, and he realized how foolish he had been. Infiltrating by putting someone in his debt? Was there any guarantee Perga was the type to repay a favor? If Perga survived and turned on him, what then? Above all, what if the Zahar main house recognized the traces of Talis in his face?
His worries were cut short by a piercing scream.
"Aaaaaagh!"
"Good, another one came in."
"It seems my retainers are continuing to send them from the outside."
Beyond his dim field of vision, he saw the shabby man sprawled on the floor, his hands broken. In front of him stood about a dozen nobles who looked little better than beggars.
While gathering the food and water, one of them pointed at the man writhing on the floor.
"Ugh, that guy is too loud. Someone deal with him. We need to conserve food anyway."
"Yes, Lord Perga."
At that command, another noble answered respectfully and immediately snapped the man's neck. Turan remained hidden, watching as they took the supplies and disappeared into the gloom.
'So that's Perga Zahar...'
A man who felt no guilt killing a person just to steal their water. He certainly didn't look like the type to repay a kindness.
As Turan frowned, a voice echoed directly in his mind.
[No.]
[You...]
[Are wrong.]
[You are not...]
[A Night Hunter.]
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