Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 43 After a few more questions, Turan learned that the woman had asked Igon for directions to the west.
When Igon had mentioned several nearby landmarks, she had looked completely lost, as if she didn't recognize them at all. This confirmed she wasn't a long-time resident of Kalamaf.
"Ah, and now that I think about it, the horse she was riding didn't look like it was from around here either. Its coat shimmered like spun gold—it was such a magnificent steed that I made sure the stables were locked tight that night."
Turan suddenly recalled a story he had heard long ago from Labus, the elder of the village at the foot of Hisaril Hill.
It was back before his mother died, when he was still on good terms with the villagers. Labus had once stroked young Turan's head and mentioned that there had once been an incredibly fine golden horse in their village.
Hadn't he said it was such a splendid beast that a merchant from a nearby city had bought it for a fortune?
Turan's mother had likely ridden that horse all the way to Hisaril Hill and sold it to buy the sheep ranch. The villagers, of course, would have undoubtedly swindled her on the price.
This confirms it.
There was no longer any doubt. The woman the vagrant Igon described was Turan's mother.
"What about her husband?"
"Well, to be honest, I didn't get to talk to her much. My late wife used to nag me, saying I was hitting on pretty women if I so much as breathed in their direction..."
Besides, the woman herself had been reluctant to mingle, so they hadn't shared any idle chatter. It made sense; if she were truly a fugitive, she would have wanted to minimize contact with others.
After repeating his questions once more to ensure the story remained consistent, Turan handed the man a few gold coins and sent him on his way.
"Oh my, to receive such a large sum... I feel quite apologetic..."
"It was worth it."
A few gold coins were pocket change to Turan, but for a vagrant, it was more than enough to survive the winter. Of course, if he gambled it all away, that was his own business; Turan wasn't about to overstep.
Since he had given out such a large reward, the chances of false reports were bound to increase. Turan instructed the civil servants to retrieve the portraits and stop taking related reports. Since he now knew his mother wasn't originally from this city, it was time to look elsewhere.
After settling the matter, he lay down on the bed in his quarters at the top of City Hall.
"Whew..."
If she had headed west, she must have come from the north, east, or south. Among those, the east or south seemed most likely. Since either his mother or father belonged to the Zahar line, he had inherited the bloodline.
More than that, the warning not to become like his father weighed heavily on him. Depending on the context, it could be interpreted in many ways. Considering she had told him his father was a good man when he was a child, it should have been a positive sentiment.
But if so, why tell him not to become like him? And why did she have to flee alone?
As he lay there with his hands over his face, lost in thought, he heard the scratching sound of the golden eagle writing something beside him. When he lifted his head, the bird pushed an iron plate filled with sand toward him.
[Are you hurting?]
Turan had fashioned this iron plate himself after arriving in Kalamaf. Unlike writing on the ground, it couldn't hold long texts, but it was perfect for indoor use. It was too large and heavy to carry around, so it remained in his room for when he was resting.
"I'm not hurting. My head is just a bit messy."
[Talking about Bije makes you suffer.]
"Hmm?"
He was startled by the sudden remark, but then he realized he had mentioned his mother's name many times in front of the bird. From the moment he first questioned the House Head of Komad, the eagle had been by his side due to their soul binding. Since their souls were linked, they shared emotions; he couldn't hide his mood from his companion.
[Who is Bije? A mate?]
"No, my mother. The person who gave birth to me. Do you remember your mother?"
At Turan's question, the golden eagle tilted its head before shaking it from side to side.
[I don't know. I don't have a mother.]
"I suppose I'm the same now."
It didn't mean the bird was literally born without a mother, but rather that it had no memory of one. The golden eagle stared blankly at Turan as he stroked its head, then suddenly began to write again.
[My name is Bije.]
"What?"
[I am Bije.]
The golden eagle quickly erased the sand and formed a new sentence.
[Turan suffers because Bije is gone.]
In other words, because he seemed to suffer from the absence of his mother, the bird would take her name to fill the void. Turan couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh at such innocent, childlike kindness.
"I appreciate the thought, but you don't have to do that. The days when I was sad about not having a mother passed long ago. It's your name, so think about it more carefully..."
[I thought a lot. I am Bije.]
Even when he suggested choosing another name, the golden eagle clicked its beak stubbornly. After several more failed attempts at persuasion, Turan gave in.
"Fine, then... if that's what you want. I'll call you Bije from now on."
In truth, overlapping names wasn't a big deal. Except for names popular in specific regions, names tended to repeat wherever you went. Turan himself had encountered several people with his own name during his travels, and he had heard the name Bije a few times before.
"I'll be in your care, Bije."
[I am Bije!]
The golden eagle, having inherited his mother's name, let out a triumphant chirp and flapped its wings.
*
Aside from searching for clues about his mother, Turan faithfully performed his role as the guardian of Kalamaf. In fact, considering he was the one feeding and rebuilding the city, it wouldn't have been an exaggeration to call him its father.
"No way, the logs are just flying on their own...?"
"Come on, there's no time to gawk! Line them up and get them to the sawmill!"
"How are these stones so perfectly rectangular? The dimensions are flawless; we don't even need to trim them!"
Once the food supply was stabilized, Turan used his magic to solve the material shortages. He cast cutting reinforcement magic on daggers and sent them whistling through the air to fell dozens of trees at once, then brought them back using levitation spells. He also used earth manipulation magic to reshape boulders, securing a massive amount of stone for construction.
In the process, the constant use of telekinesis and earth manipulation served as excellent training for his magical control.
With a powerful mage using his strength as labor, he was as effective as thousands of men. Kalamaf was being rebuilt at an unprecedented pace. Furthermore, as rumors spread that a mighty mage was protecting the city, those who had fled began to return. After a few weeks, Kalamaf began to boast a level of prestige that rivaled its past.
Returning to City Hall, Turan entered a meeting with the city's influential figures, who now looked much more like civilized leaders than the desperate men he had first met.
"Winter is finally coming to an end."
"Not a single person froze to death this week. Ten people passed, but eight were from old age and two were accidents during the reconstruction work."
"We attribute all this glory to the great Turan!"
They showered him with praise, claiming everything was improving solely because of his presence. Letting the worship pass through one ear and out the other, Turan looked at the map spread out on the conference table. It was a map of the area surrounding Kalamaf.
Still no sign of anything appearing from the west.
If one followed the road west from Kalamaf, they would reach the region where the Arabion family was at war with the dark elves. The mysterious entity that had slaughtered the family that previously ruled this city—likely a dark elf necromancer—would be somewhere in that direction.
Now that the city was stable, he needed to scout beyond the western road and identify the enemy. He couldn't stay tied to this city forever just because the enemy hadn't attacked yet. With the power of his Holy Relic and Bije's mobility, he should be able to scout the threat with relatively little risk.
When he voiced this plan, the leaders looked troubled.
"W-wouldn't that be too dangerous?"
"Perhaps you should wait a bit longer, My Lord..."
Going to meet the mysterious enemy that had wiped out an entire noble family? If Turan died, the city would fall with him.
However, they only thought these things; they didn't dare try to stop him. How could they presume to command the man who was a living god of Frea to them?
"I will return immediately if I sense anything strange, so there is no need to worry. Even if it is a foe I cannot overcome, I won't lead it back to the city. Just keep the people under control while I'm gone."
Turan had announced this only because they needed to know he would be absent, not because he was seeking their consent. Daruk and the other city leaders had no choice but to bow deeply and wish him a safe journey.
After returning to his quarters and resting for an hour to restore his mana to its peak, Turan climbed out the window.
"Let's go, Bije."
The golden eagle, Bije, let out a chirp and soared into the sky. Turan felt he was finally getting used to calling the bird by his mother's name. Come to think of it, he hadn't actually called his mother by her name very often when she was alive anyway.
As he soared over the city, several citizens who noticed his shadow shouted up at him.
"It's the golden eagle! The golden eagle!"
"O Turan of Kalamaf! May you protect this city forever!"
Turan found the citizens' praise uncomfortable. He intended to step down as the guardian of Kalamaf and resume his travels once he had dealt with the enemy to the west. He had already thought of a way to bring in a noble to take his place.
He would offer the right to rule this city in exchange for investigating his mother's whereabouts. Without the threat to the west, Kalamaf was a valuable enough prize that any House Head would be tempted.
He didn't even need to distribute portraits like before. He could simply ask them to find a young pregnant woman in her early twenties who had been traveling alone on horseback twenty-some years ago. Rather than hoping for another person with an exceptional memory like Igon, it would be much more effective to have a Great House search their records for such a unique case.
Imagining this made him feel a bit uneasy. It felt as if he were selling out the citizens who worshipped him just to get information about his mother. He also wondered if he would be responsible if the next lord failed to rule properly and the people suffered.
This is why I didn't want to be in charge of a city.
While lost in thought, Turan realized he had already reached the edge of Kalamaf's territory. Bije's flight speed was truly formidable.
"Now, shall we check...?"
With a thought, the senses of his Holy Relic began to expand. He felt the "flames" of countless living beings below. However, he didn't sense anything like a wraith or a dark elf among them.
"Let's go a bit further, Bije."
Bije chirped and flew further west. Turan set the target of his tracking magic to dark elves and checked for any lingering scents, but found nothing. Had the threat that was here moved elsewhere?
That would be troublesome in its own way.
If he defeated a visible enemy, he could rest easy, but if it had moved, it meant it could return at any time. Above all, without results, the heads of other cities wouldn't accept that the threat was gone. He couldn't exactly tell them he had searched every inch with Zahar bloodline tracking magic...
He spent some time scouring the area, moving back and forth. Just as he was thinking he might end up leaving the Gray Zone entirely, he saw a single flame burning brightly ahead.
"Stop!"
At Turan's urgent cry, Bije immediately transitioned into a hover. It was an advanced maneuver possible only for a magical beast with overwhelming strength relative to its size. In that state, Turan frowned as he looked at the massive flame of mana caught by his Holy Relic.
A wraith...? No, a mage?
When he changed the target of his tracking magic to humans, the scent made it clear: it was a mage—and a noble at that. The mana they possessed was stronger than Perga's, more than double Turan's current capacity. Someone like that would be classified as a core member even in a Great House.
Just then, the mysterious figure turned toward Turan and lifted themselves into the air.
They noticed me? From this distance?
Just as he was about to order Bije to flee south, Turan realized the figure's method of flight was quite familiar. A way of flying that looked like floating up and then riding the wind...
Before long, he came face-to-face with the mage who had flown from afar.
"Turan?"
"It's been a while, Meisa."
The heir of Arabion, Meisa Arabion, looked at him with a surprised expression on her characteristically gaunt, skull-like face.
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