Chapter 137
Chapter 137
Translator: Pai_
"Where did they go again?"
"I heard they went back to rest in their own tents."
After the long and tedious meeting finally ended, the chieftain of the Golden Fleece Tribe moved along while listening to his subordinate's report.
On the face of the man leading the largest group in this grassland, there was more of savagery and fatigue than dignity or authority.
"Damn it, those bastards ran off and embarrassed me! I clearly told them to stay still. What the hell were you doing not stopping them?"
"I'm sorry."
"Tch."
Of course, considering Moroz's power was almost on par with the chieftain's, it was impossible for a subordinate to stop him alone.
Naturally, both of them knew it was merely venting.
"Tch, I shouldn't have taken that guy in."
When Moroz first sought refuge, the chieftain had been delighted.
It was well known that the more powerful a shaman, or wizard as outsiders called them, the less effective ordinary healing abilities were on them.
In effect, it was like gaining a spare life.
Even more, his other power, the ability of a Purifier, was immensely valuable in the grasslands.
If even a single epidemic broke out and hundreds of livestock were to die, the resulting losses would be unimaginable.
But the price of accepting Moroz was heavier than expected.
Other tribes on the grasslands, greedy for his power, constantly encroached on the territory of the Golden Fleece Tribe, pestering them with every excuse imaginable and provoking conflict.
Saying things like the people of your tribe stole our sheep, killed our people, or even killed the sacred bird we worship in our tribe...
It was all the more troublesome because some accusations were true while others were blatantly fabricated.
'How the hell should I know where that ill-tempered bird died?'
Recalling the complaint from the chieftain of the Golden Eagle Tribe just moments ago, the chieftain finally arrived at the tent where Moroz stayed.
No doubt by now he would be rolling around happily with his pretty woman.
He might get angry if their time was interrupted, but the one who ought to be angry now was the chieftain himself.
It was about time to tighten the leash a little.
"Hey, Moroz! I told you to stay put..."
Just as he flung open the curtain and shouted, the chieftain's eyes widened in shock at what he saw inside.
On the unnecessarily large bed, made that way at the user’s request, lay a man and woman, both stark naked and dead.
There was a single hole piercing through both their chests, as if stabbed simultaneously.
To make matters worse, Moroz had even been decapitated, as if someone had held a deep grudge.
"W-what should we do...?"
The subordinate beside him asked with a dumbfounded expression.
"How the hell should I know?"
*
"Let’s rest here for a moment before moving on."
On the rather desolate grasslands,
Turan descended to the ground after moving away from the tents of the Golden Fleece Tribe, with Bije following his command.
In his hand was a necklace with a relatively simple appearance.
The chain was a thin gold strand, with a small bar placed horizontally and a long bar intersecting it vertically at the center.
This was the item that the House Lavitas had to endure a long struggle to retrieve, yet Turan had acquired it as effortlessly as if pulling it from his pocket.
Of course, this had only been possible thanks to the prior efforts of Lavitas wizards who had been tracking its traces.
After landing on the ground, Turan placed Bije back into his body and slowly hung the necklace around his neck.
Immediately, he could feel energy rushing through his body.
‘So this is what it feels like.’
The function of this sacred relic, Modest Wish, was to continuously grants the wearer healing and purification magic.
Perhaps due to the activation of its effects, the metallic taste of blood that lingered in his mouth after coughing it up earlier disappeared.
However, as he had heard before, its healing powers were not overwhelmingly potent, so it didn’t instantly cure his lung injury.
What he needed now was the second solution.
Click, he turned the Mimic Relic, and he felt the power of the Lavitas Bloodline he had just acquired.
Along with that came a surge of vitality from within, similar to the sacred relic’s power.
‘One of the abilities of the Healer Bloodline was exceptional vitality.’
He truly realized this just moments ago when he had attacked Moroz and his lover.
His lover, who had been nothing more than a knight, died instantly from a single blow that pierced her heart, but Moroz, stubbornly, managed to endure it.
Of course, he was unable to maintain his sanity due to the excruciating pain, terror, and confusion, so Turan had simply cut off his head and ended it.
Regardless, Turan could now share that exceptional vitality whenever he activated the Lavitas Bloodline.
Unless he switched the sacred relic’s function to another bloodline, even the aging of his physical body would likely come to a halt.
‘It’s a bit unfortunate that I had to give up the Earthmover Bloodline for this, though...’
There were a total of five powers contained in Turan's Mimic Relic.
Among them, three originated from the great noble houses of Varaha, Carmine, and Nagin.
The power of Varaha, which is immensely helpful in any battle situation.
The power of Carmine, which becomes terrifyingly potent when near large bodies of water.
And finally, the power of Nagin, which is deeply related to Soul Magic.
With none of the three being dispensable, the next choice came down to deciding between the relatively ordinary Berserker and Earthmover Bloodlines.
After long deliberation over which of the two to discard, Turan ultimately chose to let go of the Earthmover Bloodline.
Though it had once been useful in the past for things like developing reclaimed land, unlike the Berserker Bloodline which directly aided in close-quarters combat, Turan felt the Earthmover’s abilities could be compensated for with his own skills.
‘Now then, let’s see if this lives up to the expectations.’
Turan activated the ability of the Lavitas Bloodline and immediately cast a healing spell on himself.
If the wounds had been severe, he might have had to open up the skin and treat them directly, but they weren’t to that extent.
Before long, he felt the stabbing chest pain that had constantly plagued him start to subside.
Even the shortness of breath he experienced when moving slightly too quickly had disappeared.
Before much time passed, Turan realized that the injury that had tormented him ever since the last battle had been completely cured.
It was so easy, so absurdly simple, it left him dumbfounded.
‘Something this easy...’
He couldn’t help but wonder why he had suffered so much for something like this.
After spending a bit more time to completely eradicate the injury, Turan summoned Bije and took off into the air, looking back behind him.
Whether Moroz’s death, brought on by his intervention, would plunge the grasslands into further chaos or return them to their former peace, he didn’t know.
Whichever it turned out to be, he at least hoped it would become a place where Mago and his fellow tribespeople could live in peace.
At the moment, he was far too busy to step in again, but someday, far in the future, he might return and make some adjustments.
*
On the way back, Turan focused on a new task he had created for himself.
It was to reforge his soul so that it, too, could become immortal to match his now ageless body.
‘It probably won’t be easy. It might take an entire lifetime.’
Originally, Rida and the nobles of the House Lavitas referred to death, even when the body didn’t age, as the aging of the soul.
That it was because the soul aged and died that the physical body could no longer be sustained.
Her words were both half-right and half-wrong.
Strictly speaking, what deteriorates over time isn’t the soul itself, but the connection between the body and the soul.
In Soul Magic, this connection was referred to as the soul chain.
The reason the Preah God Tribe could enjoy full lifespans by transferring to new bodies was related to this.
The soul chain was a mysterious organ that was half-material and half-spiritual, and even if the soul side rusted, as long as the physical side remained intact, the connection could still hold, albeit loosely.
Amazingly, among the studies of Soul Magic, there existed techniques for training this soul chain.
Of course, it wasn’t a method to reverse or stop its aging, but rather to freely loosen or bind the connection.
Still, if he researched well from this starting point, he might find some answer.
The thought that not even gods who lived for thousands of years had accomplished such a feat was something he put aside for now.
Even as he devoted himself to Soul Magic, Bije dutifully flew westward across the South Sea.
It took about two days to retrace the path they had taken.
It just so happened that a favorable east wind helped push them along.
After crossing the Siraf Wetland for another day, Turan arrived at Merem, the capital of Lavitas, and instead of visiting the mansion where Rida would not be, he headed straight to the family head’s residence.
The gatekeeper at the entrance, perhaps having been informed in advance, immediately summoned Rida upon Turan’s arrival.
She looked more exhausted than before, her expression a mixture of disappointment and suspicion as she looked at Turan’s face.
“You... coming back this quickly, don’t tell me...?”
“Here it is.”
Perhaps she thought he was giving up because he came back too quickly.
As Turan held out the sacred relic, her eyes widened.
Rida, possibly to verify its authenticity, tried it on once and then removed it, soon replying in a slightly tearful voice, “Thank you.”
Just as the critically ill family head Osel had cherished Rida, it was now clear how deeply she valued her powerful younger cousin as well.
“I know I’ve said it before, but I never truly expected you to bring it back... You are truly a benefactor to me and to our family. If there’s anything you want in the future, just say the word.”
Her tone, unlike her usual calm and dignified demeanor, resembled a shy young woman making a heartfelt confession.
As Rida turned to deliver the necklace to the family head, after expressing her sincere gratitude, Turan grabbed her lightly and asked,
“May I ask you just one thing?”
“What is it? If it’s not urgent, perhaps later...”
“Excuse me, but I tried using the sacred relic out of curiosity, and it seems that its recovery ability alone won’t be enough to help the family head. Is there another method to use it?”
Rida looked puzzled by the question, as if wondering why he would ask such a thing, then shook her head.
“Osel’s current condition allows only a slight delay in the deterioration. But with continuous healing effects in that state, it could gradually move toward alleviating the curse itself. Though it’ll take quite a bit of time.”
Turan had wondered if there was some secret technique, but it seemed even in Lavitas, there was no special way to use the sacred relic.
If Rida was right, it would take quite some time before Osel could fully recover and rise again.
And right now, Turan possessed a power that could provide significant assistance in such a situation.
“In that case, would it be alright if I added a small bit of help?”
“Help? Do you have some method...?”
Rida was about to ask, but fell silent as she saw Turan drawing a long knife from his pocket.
Had he not just returned with the family’s sacred relic, she would have immediately summoned another noble or knight.
But of course, Turan had no intention of harming Rida, instead of swinging the knife at her, he lightly cut his own right hand.
Dark red blood dripped onto the luxurious carpet.
“Wait, why are you suddenly-?”
Startled, Rida shouted, but then opened her eyes wide at what followed.
As Turan touched the wound on his right hand with his left, the cut naturally began to heal.
To heal such a powerful noble with a healing artifact would at least require something on the level of a sacred relic.
No, Rida, being a Healer herself, could easily tell that this wasn’t the effect of a magical device or sacred relic.
“How on earth do you have the Healer Bloodline...?”
“It’s one of the simple skills I possess. Would it be of help in aiding Osel ssi?”
Judging by how vigorously Rida nodded, it seemed there was no need to hear her answer aloud.
*
With Rida’s permission, Turan was finally allowed into the deepest sanctum within the family head’s residence.
A space heavily guarded not only by all manner of defensive magical devices but also by the power of what could only be assumed to be sacred relics.
At the center, lying on the very operating table where Meisa had once undergone surgery, was Osel.
With a faint flame flickering in his chest and a pale complexion, the young boy appeared almost pitiful.
Surrounding him, the high-ranking nobles of Lavitas were casting healing magic with exhausted expressions, and each time they did, the white flame seemed to falter slightly.
Just then, the nobles heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing Rida, only to recoil in shock upon noticing Turan entering behind her.
"Wait... how did an outsider get in here?"
"What is the meaning of this, Madam!"
Their reactions were only natural, as an outsider had suddenly barged in while they were in the midst of treating their gravely injured family head.
In response, Rida held up the Lavitas sacred relic, Modest Wish, which Turan had recovered, and said,
"Here, our friend Turan has brought the sacred relic that will save the family head. Lower your voices."
“Ahem, I was merely...”
Though briefly flustered by the unexpected revelation, the high-ranking Lavitas nobles quickly resumed their objections.
“We are indeed grateful for the return of our treasure, but that is a separate matter. How could you bring an outsider into a place like this when the family head is in such critical condition?”
“She’s right. Especially after what happened, this is entirely inappropriate.”
That they objected before even asking the reason for his presence showed that, unlike Rida or Osel, many of Lavitas’s senior nobles were simply inflexible.
It was much the same in any great noble house.
People naturally become more rigid and stubborn with age, and even powerful wizards were no exception to this rule.
Even the nobles of Lavitas, whose aging had halted on the outside, were not exempt.
To such people, Rida calmly declared,
“This time, Turan has brought a secret method to restore the family head. Please step back for a moment.”
“A secret method? What kind of method?”
“I’m asking you to leave because I cannot reveal it.”
In a tone that was both commanding and resolute, just like the way she had once spoken to Godis, Solif’s father, Rida gave the order to vacate the room.
Naturally, the high-ranking nobles, for whom the family head’s well-being was the top priority, resisted her command. But in the end, they had no choice but to comply.
After all, Rida wasn’t just one of the eldest among the elders, she was also the cousin who had personally nursed Osel as an infant.
“If something goes wrong with the family head, you’ll be held responsible, Madam.”
“Of course.”
After the last person who opposed had left, Turan sat next to Rida and looked down at Osel.
The white flames that had been held back by healing and purification magic just moments ago were now visibly growing again.
“This is bad. We need to take care of this quickly. Let’s start with this.”
Without delay, Rida gently placed the sacred relic around Osel’s neck, and the flames instantly weakened in intensity.
Letting out a breath of relief, she looked at Turan and said,
“Now, follow my lead and try casting the magic. You’re probably not familiar with this yet...”
Like a mother teaching a newborn child how to walk, Rida gently guided Turan’s hand.
Following her instructions, Turan applied both healing and purification magic, and before long, the flames that had enveloped Osel’s body began to subside.
Thanks to the sacred relic halting the progression of the ailment, and Turan, while not on Osel’s level, exerting the power of a capable healer, the efforts were effective.
About an hour later,
The head of House Lavitas finally opened his eyes.
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