Translator: Pai_
Solif was born to a noble couple from a great house.
He awakened his powerful magic power at a younger age than others, walking what could be called a path paved with gold.
Though he occasionally faced conflicts and setbacks, his life generally went as he wished, making it more than sufficient for him to become a noble youth armed with a reasonable level of self-esteem and arrogance.
However, ten years ago, when he turned forty-eight, Solif realized for the first time that something was off about his life.
The realization came when, at a family event, he noticed a scar on the back of a distant relative’s hand, identical to the one his childhood friend, who had died long ago, had.
“A friend?”
“Yes. He was the one who died because of me.”
In his mid-teens, when his adventurous spirit was as strong as it is now, Solif secretly left his family estate with a friend who had grown up with him like a brother.
Their goal was to gain magic power on their own, gain real combat experience, and explore the world.
However, when they went to hunt a magical beast that was threatening a village, young Solif realized the opponent was far too powerful.
At the critical moment, his friend, who had run away with him, sacrificed himself to save Solif’s life. That event left a deep scar on his heart.
After somehow making it back to his family, Solif vowed never to recklessly leave the estate again and buried his adventurous spirit deep within himself.
But then…
“I had a hunch, so I went to dig up the grave where my family had supposedly buried my friend’s body. There was nothing there. That relative had also disappeared on a secret mission from when I was eight until I was fifteen, a mission that no one knew about.”
From the circumstances, it was clear that the relative had disguised himself as a child and played the role of his sacrificial friend.
He had likely used some kind of cleverly crafted magic artifact to alter his appearance.
The realization that the major event that had shaken his very personality in childhood had all been a fabrication left Solif in shock.
“When I checked the records, the magical beast that had attacked me turned out to be one that my family had raised before releasing. The timing of its release matched exactly when I experienced that incident.”
Upon investigating his past further, he discovered that this was not the only such case.
A cousin, of similar age, whose magical prowess had always been superior to Solif’s, making him both jealous and determined to surpass him through desperate training, had once been sent on an assignment to a rural area, only to go missing and be forgotten.
A maid he had loved deeply but who had left him, citing the burden of their status difference, turned out to have a completely fabricated background, including a false birthplace in official records.
Even several friends who had shared his passion for history turned out to have shown no interest in the subject before meeting him.
“You get the gist, right? My entire family was shaping me. That’s why I escaped. Here, no matter what I encounter or what I choose, it won’t be something orchestrated.”
Since escaping from his family, he had changed his personality, speech patterns, and mannerisms, all in an effort to find his true self.
Finishing his explanation, Solif took a swig directly from a bottle of liquor that he had produced at some point.
“I couldn’t even dream of drinking like this within the family.”
“Have you ever thought about why they did it?”
“I don’t know. Given the scale of what was set up, the family head must have been involved, that’s for sure.”
The fact that Solif did not use any honorifics when referring to his family’s head made his resentment clear.
As he listened, Turan recalled the stories of the Preah God Tribe, who were said to survive by transferring their souls into new bodies.
If they had managed to survive until now and continued switching bodies, they would naturally desire the bodies of talented and powerful wizards.
And the heir of a great house would more than meet those requirements.
'One of the laws of magic, the more plausible something is, the less magic power it consumes...'
If soul transference had been used, that law might not necessarily apply, but from a magical standpoint, it was certainly more efficient to swap souls into people with matching personalities and interests.
A sudden, drastic shift in personality would be an obvious anomaly, after all.
It occurred to him that Meisa might be in a similar situation.
After all, she was not only born with exceptional talent but also held a status that made her an ideal vessel for a god’s body.
Just like in Solif’s case, Meisa had never mentioned any external manipulation around her, but perhaps she had simply not realized it yet.
It might even have something to do with her refusal to eat or her deep hatred toward her family...
While Turan was lost in thought, Solif suddenly threw the bottle of liquor he had been drinking straight at him.
“What was that for?”
“Well, the mood was getting too dull with all this serious talk. Have a drink. You can drink, right?”
Turan looked down at the dark brown liquor for a moment before taking a sip.
A wave of heat flowed down his throat.
“It’s strong.”
“It’s a distilled alcohol made from fermented sugarcane juice. A famous specialty of the South Sea.”
After saying that, Solif, determined to lighten the mood, shifted the conversation back to his adventurous tales.
Turan played along, sharing drinks and responding in kind before slipping in a question.
“Do you ever think about going back to your family?”
“Hmm? I doubt it. But maybe if I get strong enough to match the family head, I’ll go back to turn everything upside down.”
“Never go back. In fact, if possible, get even farther away from their reach. Somewhere far west.”
Solif blinked, as if wondering what he meant, but Turan could not give any more clues.
If he were to present evidence for his theory, he would have to reveal far too many secrets.
And if Solif were ever captured in the future, subjected to torture, soul transference, or any other means of extracting information, their conversation could end up reaching those behind all of this.
If those people realized that someone was aware of their existence, there was no way they would just let it go.
After talking through the night, Solif bid farewell, saying they would meet again if the chance arose, and left for the south.
Turan silently wished that he could stay out of his family’s sight for as long as possible.
They had only spent a single day together, sparring and drinking, but the thought of someone he knew experiencing something as horrifying as soul theft, a fate worse than death, was deeply unsettling.
As the morning sun rose, Turan casually caught a few fish for breakfast and then took off with Bije, flying northeast.
Initially, he had planned to take a leisurely boat ride, but the new revelations had made him change course.
‘I need to secure the Spirit of Fire quickly and then head toward Arabion. Even if I can’t confirm whether a god exists, I should at least be able to find out if there really is a force manipulating Meisa’s life…’
Based on Rida’s request, the House Lavitas likely had little to no connection to the Preah God Tribe.
If a living god had been around all this time, they would have either already retrieved the White Elf or never needed them in the first place.
House Zahar and other great families were difficult to approach due to a lack of connections, but Arabion was different, he had links through House Berg and Meisa, making it comparatively easier to investigate.
He had also used the Mimic Relic to pose as someone from the Barrier Master Bloodline, so he would draw less suspicion.
If, by any chance, an unfortunate situation arose during his investigation, he could use the Spirit of Fire to unleash massive firepower and escape.
For that, he would need to stock up on a large supply of saltpeter this time.
As he pieced together his plan, Turan absentmindedly ran a hand over his face.
‘A magic artifact that can change my appearance would be useful. I wonder if there’s a way to get one.’
Since the existence of someone capable of mimicking multiple bloodline abilities was virtually unknown, combining that with a disguise would allow him to take on dozens of different identities.
It might be worth searching for such a treasure before heading to Arabion.
Of course, such an item was not something one could just find on demand.
Lost in thought, he flew for several hours.
Stopping at a few islands along the way, landing to ask for directions repeatedly, he eventually arrived at Parayan Island.
This island, known as a source of saltpeter, was a moderately sized landmass stretching several kilometers. From above, Turan could see that there was even a village on it.
Descending to a suitable altitude, he focused on his sense of smell and soon detected the peculiar, pungent odor unique to saltpeter coming from somewhere near the center of the island.
After asking Bije to land in an appropriate spot, Turan set off toward the source of the scent.
Pushing through dense foliage, he walked for a few minutes until he spotted a cave at the base of a massive cliff. Its walls and ceiling were reinforced with wooden beams.
From within, the sound of something being struck repeatedly echoed.
‘Is this the place?’
Since there was no one guarding the entrance to the mine, Turan walked straight inside.
Before long, illuminated by flickering torchlight, he saw miners chipping away at the rock, extracting white ore from the walls. Their complexions and clothing looked far from decent.
‘Being a miner isn’t exactly a clean job, but this seems excessive…’
The miners had gaunt faces, clothes soaked with grime, and bruises scattered across their bodies.
Even more concerning was that all of them had shackles on their legs.
Anyone could tell at a glance, they were practically slaves.
Noticing Turan suddenly standing among them, the miners flinched in terror and bowed their heads.
“We’ve been working hard, Supervisor!”
“…Supervisor?”
Turan echoed the word in confusion, making the miners’ expressions shift.
Now that they took a closer look, the young man before them looked and acted nothing like the overseers they were used to.
“A-Are you not here to inspect our work…?”
“I just came to this island looking to obtain saltpeter. Is there someone in charge of selling it here?”
“D-Did you come alone?”
“Yes. I’m by myself.”
At Turan’s response, the miners recoiled in alarm and cried out.
“Run away, now! I don’t know how you got here, but take me with you! Please!”
“Were you all brought here against your will?”
“All of us were kidnapped! Those bastards-”
Just as one of the miners shouted in anger, a sharp cracking sound rang out from behind them.
The moment they heard the lash of a whip, every single miner cowered and dropped to the ground.
“You’re too loud! What’s all this chatter about? I can’t even take a shit in peace without you lot- hmm?”
The overseer holding the whip frowned in confusion as he spotted Turan.
Parayan Island was difficult to reach due to the ocean currents surrounding it, only those who deliberately set their course here could arrive.
Because of that, the same people always visited, and there should not have been any unexpected guests.
He had heard that no ships had arrived today, which meant there should not be any visitors either. So who was this outsider?
“And who might you be?”
“I’m here to buy saltpeter.”
“I wasn’t informed of any visitors… No, more importantly, if you’re here for saltpeter, why come all the way here instead of inquiring in the village? Which pirate crew are you with?”
“I’m not affiliated with any pirate crew. But tell me, did you staff this mine with kidnapped people?”
At Turan’s question, the surrounding miners paled, stealing nervous glances at the overseer.
Glaring at the miners as if he would kill them on the spot, the overseer suddenly forced an awkward smile, as if something had just occurred to him.
“Well, first… may I ask where you-”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Turan’s demeanor instantly turned cold and commanding.
The overseer trembled violently at the pressure and quickly nodded.
“Y-Yes, it’s true.”
“Who governs this area?”
“N-Not a noble house, but the Corvinus Pirates!”
“Pirates?”
“Yes! We serve the great pirate lord, Corvinus!”
According to the overseer’s sycophantic explanation, Corvinus was an illegitimate child of a noble and had gained notoriety as a pirate wizard in the South Sea over many years.
Despite being "just" a pirate, his skills were formidable, so much so that even the armies sent by noble families to eliminate him had suffered defeat several times.
Under Corvinus' command, dozens of knights and warships were stationed, and he ruled over several islands, including Parayan Island.
As Turan listened to the explanation, he gestured toward the miners.
“So, this Corvinus guy kidnaps people and forces them to mine saltpeter here?”
“Uh? Y-Yes… though this isn’t just a saltpeter mine.”
At that, Turan took a closer look at the carts scattered around. Among the saltpeter, he noticed a few shimmering minerals.
It made sense, there was no reason to operate an entire mine just to extract something that was only useful when fraudulently sold as an elixir of immortality.
Most likely, they were primarily mining other valuable minerals and simply selling saltpeter as a side business.
Turan muttered under his breath as he observed the ragged miners.
“I don’t like this.”
It might have been overstepping to interfere in how another shepherd managed their flock, but stealing someone else’s sheep was an entirely different matter.
And if they had at least treated the captives well, it might have been a different story, but they clearly had not.
Hearing his words, the overseer’s face turned pale.
“T-There are knights under his command stationed here! I’ll try to negotiate with them, so please-”
“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.”
Initially, Turan had planned to do what he did last time with the sulfur, if saltpeter was lying around, he would simply collect it; if it had an owner, he would negotiate for a fair price.
But after seeing this situation, he discarded that plan entirely.
Paying kidnappers for their goods? That was absurd.
Turan spoke softly to the miners.
“All of you, come this way.”
Even without using any Taming Magic, the miners, as if entranced, began moving toward him.
There were thirty-five of them in total.
Unlocking the shackles on their ankles with a simple lockpicking spell was not difficult at all.
“It’s… it’s off…”
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“Please, take me home, wizard!”
Some were in awe that their chains had come off, while others broke into sobs, expressing their gratitude. Some clung to his legs, pleading to be taken home.
Turan gently removed the one grabbing his pants and spoke.
“I’m going to take care of the village next, so I’ll leave things here to you.”
“Uh, by ‘take care of’… what do you mean…?”
“That guy.”
Turan pointed at the overseer. The man flinched in terror and tried to flee, but a simple telekinetic spell was enough to send him sprawling to the ground.
Snatching away his only weapon, the whip, Turan tossed it aside and walked out of the mine.
From behind, a bloodcurdling scream echoed.
The village along the coast was about an hour’s walk from the mine, but for Turan, who was riding Bije, it was practically within arm’s reach.
Since it was broad daylight, the shadows of the golden eagle and Turan stretched over the ground, alerting the pirates below.
“A man on a bird! No, wait… is he hanging from the bird…?”
“Is he a wizard? Someone report this to the village chief!”
As the pirates scrambled in confusion at the sudden appearance of an unknown figure, Turan looked down at them while slipping a hand into his pocket.
When he pulled it out, a handful of pitch-black powder rested in his palm.
“This is my first time using it in real combat. Remember, Bije- don’t be startled.”
Hearing a chirp of acknowledgment, Turan scattered the Spirit of Fire over the village.
As he cast an ignition spell, explosions erupted on the ground.