Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 73 Turan had never spent much time rubbing shoulders with others, so the intricacies of politics were foreign to him. Still, he understood the basic concept.
It was the art of solidifying one's position by flattering superiors, coaxing subordinates, and dismantling enemies through schemes and slander.
Ordinary humans had to conform to society to survive, so they were naturally governed by this political logic. Even powerful nobles were no exception. They had to navigate relationships with their own kin and rival families just to stay afloat.
Furthermore, these political structures grew more complex and tangled as the group's size increased. When it came to the internal politics of a Great Family—the nobles among nobles—it was more sinister than an average person could imagine.
For the past few days, Turan had spent his daylight hours wandering the estate disguised as a boy knight to identify the various noble manors. At night, he broke into those manors, raided their studies, and gathered intelligence.
While each noble guarded their sanctum in their own creative way, fortunately, none were so thorough that he couldn't break in. Perhaps they believed their private studies were the safest spaces in their homes.
The more he dug, the more sordid stories came pouring out.
Taking bribes to influence the distribution of magic tools or mana within the family was almost too trivial to mention. There were numerous accounts of lives being treated like playthings—framing others for crimes they didn't commit or falsifying the strength of magical beasts to be hunted. There were even traces of assassination orders, though they were phrased in subtle, roundabout ways.
After piecing together various documents, Turan realized there were currently three distinct factions within Arabion.
He categorized them as the Elder Faction, the Middle-aged Faction, and the Youth Faction.
The Elder Faction was centered around those between three hundred and four hundred years old—peers or slightly younger contemporaries of the current Family Head. While they were widely respected for the merits accumulated over their long lives, they rarely interfered in family affairs.
The second was the Middle-aged Faction, a group of nobles between one hundred and three hundred years old, which included Kadram. They were effectively the backbone of the family, monopolizing key roles and wielding immense power. Notably, they actively supported the women of the Nagin family—the Family Head's consorts—and their children, while remaining openly hostile toward Meisa.
The last was the Youth Faction, composed of promising young nobles. Naturally, they were the weakest of the three. They supported Meisa as the rightful successor, but they had failed to form any real bond with her.
Turan had primarily targeted the studies of the Middle-aged Faction. In the process, he confirmed that they were systematically isolating Meisa.
First, they used Reto, a Zahar noble, to make Meisa believe she was constantly being targeted by Zahar assassins. Meanwhile, they cultivated an atmosphere suggesting that these assassins were a mere delusion, treating Meisa like she was losing her mind.
Not only that, but any servants who managed to build a rapport with Meisa were promptly sent away to distant locations. Any young members of the Youth Faction who tried to approach her were harassed or, in extreme cases, killed.
This was the reason she lived in a manor that was little more than a ruin, accompanied only by a few elderly maids.
Turan finally understood why Meisa had fled to the Berk family's manor back then. They likely left the Berks alone either because it was too bothersome to touch a vassal family, or because they feared Meisa might actually commit suicide if they destroyed her last remaining connection.
Fortunately, there were no signs that the Berk family was being given special treatment or communicating with the conspirators. They weren't part of the plot. It was a relief; otherwise, it would have been tragic for both Meisa and Asiz.
By combining this new information, the meaning of the letter sent by Meisa's half-brother, Renod, became clear.
'Based on the circumstances… it looks like the Middle-aged Faction killed Meisa's mother and younger brother.'
Though not listed on the official family tree, Meisa had a younger brother. In the year 2207, ten years ago, he had lost his life along with his mother at the age of eight, before he could even awaken his mana. Renod's letter had been written that same year. It was too coincidental to be unrelated.
'Publicly, it was ruled an accidental death.'
Meisa's mother, Orin Berk, had been a low-ranking noble who barely managed to manifest a bloodline ability, yet she was favored by the Family Head for bearing him powerful children. Then, one day, she died in an "accident" and was buried as if she had never existed. Even her relative, Asiz, had only heard that she died in an accident without ever knowing the details.
Given the records of the primary wife from the Nagin family resenting a concubine who bore a high-ranking heir—and the fact that her supporters employed Zahar nobles—it wasn't surprising that they were involved in this "accident."
Turan even found circumstantial evidence in the Middle-aged Faction's manors that they had "disposed" of Orin.
[Used Reto to eliminate mother and child.]
[Confirmed.]
It didn't explicitly state whose mother and child they were, but considering the document was dated 2207, the context was obvious. Later, he found several notes reprimanding the act.
[The mother and child were too much. The target is broken.]
[It was necessary for isolation.]
[Find a way to restore her.]
Meisa's peculiar habit of refusing food seemed to have stemmed from the deaths of her mother and brother. The conspirators described this as her being "broken" and seemed displeased by it—likely because the state of the body the god was supposed to inhabit had deteriorated.
There were several complaints about how difficult it was to overcome this issue while maintaining her isolation.
Through this, Turan was nearly certain that a divine being was behind the Middle-aged Faction. Just as they had tried to whittle down Solif's personality into a specific mold, they were clearly trying to manipulate Meisa's psyche by isolating her.
'In the first place, bullying Meisa like this would be unthinkable without that kind of backing.'
Hostility toward an irreplaceable heir—the designated successor to the next generation of power—was literal suicide. Since the current Family Head was already elderly, it wouldn't be strange for the entire Middle-aged Faction to be purged the moment the seat changed.
The only reason they would dare to do this was that they likely knew the secret of the soul exchange. Once the soul of the Frea Divine Clan inhabited the body, there would be no need to answer for the injustices Meisa had suffered. In fact, it was highly probable that the divine being themselves had ordered the abuse to make the body easier to take over.
Killing Meisa's mother and brother was likely part of the plan to shatter her spirit.
Although none of the documents explicitly stated that the Family Head had ordered these actions, it would have been impossible to persecute the heir to this extent without his tacit approval, no matter how powerful the conspirators were.
The problem was that there was no definitive evidence regarding the soul exchange or the murder of Meisa's family. Perhaps even in their private studies, they were too uneasy to leave such blatant secrets in writing.
'Should I gather more data, or should I just tell Meisa now?'
After agonizing over it, Turan decided to make contact. He had already scoured the homes of most influential nobles; his only options left were to raid the Family Head's main residence or kidnap and torture Middle-aged Faction nobles for information. Both were too risky to attempt without Meisa's cooperation.
He was perfectly prepared to persuade her. He had used Thoughtography—a technique that uses ash and paper to produce images—to copy all the relevant documents. Given Meisa's current situation, simply handing over these materials should be enough to earn her trust.
*
Turan decided to contact Meisa on the night of his tenth day since infiltrating the estate.
He calculated that since many people moved about during the day, any unexpected noise would draw attention, whereas the night offered a better chance to hide and escape if things went wrong.
Leaving the manor where he had been hiding, Turan flew toward Meisa's residence, pushing the senses of his Holy Relic to their limit. Countless living beings within the main estate entered his perception.
After checking them one by one and realizing he still hadn't found his target, Turan let out a soft sigh.
'Still not here?'
For the past few days, Turan had used the relic's senses whenever he had time to check for other races. Based on the case of the Dark Elf Necromancers, if a White Elf Spirit-Caller existed, their presence should be detectable.
He had two hypotheses: either they didn't need a Spirit-Caller for the soul exchange, or they were keeping them outside the main estate or in a special space that blocked detection. He personally leaned toward the latter. In his experience, the Mimic Relic's senses were often blocked in surprisingly absurd situations.
As he approached Meisa's manor with these thoughts, Turan realized she wasn't there. It was two in the morning—not a time when an ordinary person would have business elsewhere.
'Where did she go?'
Was she taking a walk because she couldn't sleep? Fortunately, Meisa's presence was so massive that he found her easily once he expanded his range.
Come to think of it, her being away from her home was actually a golden opportunity. He had originally planned to leave the documents in her room, fearing there might be a secret surveillance system even his relic couldn't detect, but if she was outside, he could talk to her directly.
Turan flew toward her and found himself before a large bakery, the air faint with the scent of stale bread and flour. This building, which supplied freshly baked bread to all corners of the Arabion estate, was eerie and desolate now that the bakers had finished their shifts.
Following Meisa's presence inside, Turan quickened his pace at the sound of a strange noise coming from within.
"Ugh, hurk..."
The voice, of course, belonged to Meisa. To his surprise, she was cramming leftover bread from one side of the bakery into her mouth. She clamped her mouth shut and covered it with her hands, but after a moment, she couldn't hold it back and vomited it all up.
"Haa..."
Catching her breath, Meisa used a high-heat ignition spell to incinerate the vomit so thoroughly that not even smoke remained. Then, she picked up another loaf of bread and shoved it into her mouth.
Watching her continue this cycle, tears streaming down her face from the repeated gagging, was heart-wrenching. Turan finally realized what she was doing. It was a desperate attempt to force nutrients into her body when she found it nearly impossible to eat.
'Oh...'
This was not a sight meant for others to see. Would it be better to pretend he hadn't seen it and wait for another chance to speak?
After a brief hesitation, Turan deactivated his stealth. Pretending he hadn't seen it after witnessing everything would be a form of deception, and more importantly, there wouldn't be many chances to speak freely. Once morning came, Meisa would return to that desolate manor. By contrast, this bakery was built sturdily and was much more soundproof than her ruined home, and it was less likely to have a separate surveillance system.
"Meisa."
Meisa spun around, startled by the sudden call. Turan quickly raised both hands to show he had no intention of fighting. The lightning that had gathered at her fingertips crackled and dissipated into the air. He suspected that if he had taken a direct hit from that, he would have suffered significant damage even with his Guardian magic tool fully activated.
"Turan? How are you here? Wait, is this... an illusion?"
Perhaps because he was the last person she expected to see, Meisa cautiously poked Turan's shoulder with a finger to confirm he was real. If not for what he had just witnessed, he might have let out a small laugh at the sight.
"It really is you. How on earth did you get in... no, more importantly, did you... see everything just now?"
"It wasn't intentional. I'm sorry."
It was hard to read expressions on Meisa's excessively thin face, but he guessed it was a mix of anger and shame. It was only natural; a young lady caught in a cycle of eating and vomiting would be embarrassed, especially if it was tied to her personal trauma.
But soon, the emotion on Meisa's face shifted to shock and wariness. She seemed to finally realize the gravity of Turan being here.
"How did you get in here? Did you come with Asiz? If you were here as a guest, there's no way I wouldn't have heard about it."
"I snuck in. But first, could you look at this? It's important."
Casually mentioning that he had infiltrated the stronghold of a Great Family—a feat that would shock anyone else—Turan immediately handed her the documents he had copied from the Arabion nobles' manors. Despite her questions, Meisa took them and spread them out.
"What is this?"
"I obtained these from the nobles here."
Whether they were true or not was for her to judge. When he fell silent, Meisa looked back and forth between the documents and Turan, then began frantically scanning the pages with her large, prominent eyes.
Turan added quietly, "For your information, the 'Reto' mentioned there is indeed that maid in the main house. She is a noble of the Zahar bloodline."
Meisa flinched at the startling revelation, but she didn't stop reading. She was already deeply absorbed in the content.
After about ten minutes, Meisa crumpled the paper in her hand and burst into laughter. Her skeletal hands trembled violently.
"I knew it... I knew it. I wasn't crazy..."
Turan worried she might faint from the intensity of her emotions, but fortunately, Meisa managed to compose herself, though tears continued to stream down her face. It was a wonder where so many tears could come from that gaunt body.
After a moment, a slightly calmer Meisa looked at Turan and spoke.
"Now, will you tell me? How you got these, and why you came to show them to me."
Despite the demand for an explanation, her blue eyes were already filled with trust. Turan could feel that Meisa had been desperate for this information—and that she now deeply trusted the man who had brought her exactly what she needed.
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