Chapter 257
Side Story 7 - Turan Zahar (2)
When Rahmann, who had gone to discipline Turan, came running back out with one of his arms severed, the Nobles of Zahar learned their lesson well, that they must never lay a hand on the Family Head's young Adopted Son.
In the end, they once again ran to the one person who might be able to resolve the matter.
To Talis, the Zahar Family Head's younger brother, the family's second-in-command, and, though few others knew it, a member of the old Preah God Tribe who could be counted among the Inner Circle.
"Let's talk, Caesar."
"Why?"
"Your handiwork has the whole family in an uproar right now."
"Deal with it yourself. That's your job, isn't it?"
"Are you doing all this because you actually believe the boy is Otas reborn?"
"He's the only child who survived the Soul Ritual we carried out this time. Had things gone as originally planned, he could have contained even the most enormous Spirit Form with room to spare."
As he said this, Haroon stroked the head of Turan, who slept with his head resting on Haroon's knee.
All the while wearing a tender expression that radiated something like maternal love, despite the aged man's face he wore.
Watching this, Talis let out a deep sigh.
"Fine, you'd know more about the magic of manipulating souls than anyone, so I'll let that go. But that aside, this can't go on."
"What can't?"
"You're completely spoiling the child."
Ignoring the sharp glare his comrade shot at him, Talis poured out the words he had prepared.
"You've never properly raised a kid, but you must have caught a parenting show once or twice. The Zahar Bloodline is cruel enough on its own, and raising him to be this arrogant and answerable to no one will get us nowhere. He'll turn into a real monster. By your own logic, do you want to turn Otas reborn into a psychopathic killer?"
Long ago, the first Wizards born between the Preah God Tribe and humans mostly had problems with their character.
This was because, possessing powers that overwhelmed ordinary people from the moment they were born, they failed to form any sense of kinship with humans as members of the same species.
So Monarch, who was the most skilled at Soul Magic and could establish various laws through his power as a Lawmaker, devised a method of correcting their temperaments by creating a 'Leash' that would be passed down into the Spirit Form of every Wizard.
Yet for the descendants of the Zahar Bloodline alone, the constraint of this Leash was not particularly firm, and that was because Otas, who had originally been their leader, had not thought well of Monarch.
Believing that Monarch would exploit the Leash to seize excessive advantage, he had demanded that only the bare minimum be applied, and as a result the Zahar Nobles stood out as far more aggressive than other Wizards.
"You know why we exterminated the Shadow Bloodline and now only draw on it sparingly, bit by bit, don't you? It's not as severe as that, but this bloodline is dangerous all the same. Their empathy doesn't kick in for anything outside their own fence."
"Hmm."
"I promise I won't do anything too harsh. He needs to develop at least a little social grace, doesn't he? Just leave him to me for a few years."
He had left the boy in their leader's care all this while, assuming he would raise him properly, but seeing the mess made this time, he came to think the boy could not be left to him any longer.
He himself felt no special affection for the body's grandson, but surely the boy ought to be made fit to function as a person.
And what was more, if Haroon's procedure had been carried out properly, so that, as planned, something like the residual will of a Night Hunter had taken root within that child's soul, then there was all the more reason to do it.
The very thought of the power of one of the mightiest beings among the old gods falling into the hands of a psychopathic killer was horrifying.
A few minutes passed like that.
Haroon, who had agonized over it for a long while, gave a reluctant nod.
"I'm warning you, if anything happens to Turan, you die too. And I don't just mean killing that body. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Of course."
*
"Uncle?"
"Yes, my brother. His name is Talis."
Turan, who had woken from sleep, took one look at Talis sitting across from him, wore a wary expression, and hid behind Haroon.
The giant old man chuckled and nudged Turan out from behind him.
"Say hello."
"......Hi."
"Properly."
"Hello, sir."
"Truly, like pulling teeth to get a greeting out of him."
Muttering that they evidently had a long road ahead, Talis heaved another sigh and tugged Turan along.
"Wh-what is this?"
"You'll be staying with me for the time being. And just so you know, I won't be soft on you the way my brother is, so brace yourself."
"D-Daddy! Save me!"
Haroon flinched at the sight of his Adopted Son's pitiful expression, then turned his face away.
At this, Turan's face filled with disbelief, and then he burst into wailing sobs.
"I'm sorry, I won't run off anymore. I'll stay inside, I swear......so don't get rid of me......."
"I'm not getting rid of you."
Answering without meaning to, Haroon was startled to realize his voice had grown thick with tears.
He could not even remember the last time he had wept from emotion.
Perhaps it had been when he lost his one and only love?
"Once you've spent a hundred nights with your uncle, I'll come for you again. So be brave until then. All right?"
"Okay......."
Perhaps realizing there was no helping it from the sight of his father on the verge of tears just like himself, Turan swallowed his snot and nodded instead of whining any further.
At the sight of the two of them, Talis had to work to keep from showing how pathetic he found it.
"Right then, let's be off."
Haroon Zahar, Caesar, quietly watched his son leave the mansion, glancing back again and again.
He felt hollow, as though a hole had been punched clean through his heart.
*
Among those who resided in Talis's mansion, the only ones who bore the Zahar surname were him and Turan.
Talis mentioned, as calmly as if he were speaking of strangers, that he had originally had seven children, five of whom had left to live on their own and two of whom had died.
"One of those two who died was Karim. Your real father."
"My father is-!"
"Forget all that talk of fake parents and the like. The bond between parent and child isn't something that simply comes into being because one gave birth. Bloodline counts for nothing."
Talis cut off Turan, who had flared up and was about to argue, in a cold and resolute tone.
"Since my brother Haroon has chosen you as his child, I too will treat you as a nephew rather than a grandson. But it's equally true that your real parent was not my brother but my son. There's no need to bristle at that. The truth is, being a blood child is a matter of lucky birth, while an Adopted Son is a place one can only earn by being chosen. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Mm-hmm......."
"Say 'Yes, sir.' You're past the age for acting like a small child now."
Unlike Haroon, Talis treated Turan with great severity.
The very first thing he did was confiscate the dagger Haroon had given the boy for self-defense, the one that had left a deep gash across Berit's face.
And unlike before, when the boy had only ever eaten, played, and slept however he pleased, Talis forced him to live strictly by a set daily schedule.
"Um, young Master Turan. It's time for you to be up......."
"'M sleepy. Gonna sleep mo- agh!"
"Get up."
Turan, who had been drowsily mumbling back at the timid whisper of the maid, a former Knight, screamed at the sensation of someone yanking his ankle and hoisting him up by it.
Talis, having seized Turan's ankle and lifted him upside down, spoke with a cold look in his eyes.
"I'm quite sure I told you. Wash up properly and come out before breakfast time."
"But the sun isn't even all the way up-"
"In my house, that's of no importance. I'm warning you, if you carry on like this again, you'll get no breakfast, so if you don't want to go hungry, you'll crawl out of bed on your own."
After that, Turan, having tidied himself up with the maid's help and come out to the dining hall, ate breakfast together with Talis's family.
Talis himself and several rather pretty Concubines were present, and every one of them could not hide their shock at the sight of Turan.
Amid gulps, grunts, and lip-smacking, Turan calmly picked up his food with his bare hands and ate it.
Since Haroon had never minded in the least, finding him adorable no matter how he ate, it was a manner without a shred of proper etiquette to be found.
Talis, letting out a sigh, stopped Turan.
"That's enough."
"Huh? I mean, yes, sir?"
"During a meal, use the utensils set out in front of you. And don't make noise while you eat."
"Why is that?"
Still, the boy was at least using honorifics now.
Even amid his exhaustion, Talis felt a quiet sense of accomplishment as he calmly explained the reason one had to observe manners.
"Above all, when people see you behaving like that, they'll curse your parents. They'll wonder what kind of upbringing produced such a sight. Do you like the thought of your father being cursed?"
"Then I'll kill every last one of them who curses him."
At the bloodthirsty answer coming from a boy with such an adorable face, Talis's Concubines exchanged flustered looks.
Talis, however, gave a scornful laugh as if dumbfounded and shook his head.
"And if the families of the dead come for revenge? Never mind you, your father may be the strongest, but he isn't invincible. Keep making enemies, one after another, and one day he'll fall. Is that what you want? For House Zahar to perish and my brother to die?"
"......No."
"Then learn manners. Master the art of living among people. Otherwise you'll remain a beast rather than a man, and my brother, the Family Head, will be blamed for raising a beast as his own child."
After that, too, Turan was corrected on his manners again and again during meals, slowly mending his ways.
In teaching him, Talis did not hesitate to administer corporal punishment when necessary.
When something could be explained by reason, he explained it, but whenever the boy dug in his heels out of sheer stubbornness or challenged his authority, he inflicted a sharp dose of pain to bring him to heel.
For the discipline of a young child had something in common with the training of a beast.
One part of this socialization process was apologizing to the father and daughter, Rahmann and Berit, with whom he had clashed before.
"Uncle, this is......."
"Don't trouble yourself. I've taught him well."
Rahmann's arm, which Haroon had cut off in the past, had of course been restored to the way it was.
All thanks to none other than the Family Head of a Healer house loyal to House Zahar, who had come in person to cast Healing Magic.
The wound on Berit's cheek, too, had healed completely, but the wound in her heart seemed not to have mended, for she was unconsciously covering the left side of her face with her hand.
"I'm truly sorry for stabbing your face and for losing my temper. Brother, and you too, niece."
Turan bowed at the waist in accordance with proper etiquette and apologized to them politely.
Looking at him now, every bit the well-bred young boy of House Zahar to anyone's eyes, it was hard to recall the feral child he had been just a few months earlier.
"How on earth did you teach him?"
"My brother had been coddling the boy far too much. As it turns out, his disposition isn't bad. If he grows up well, he'll make a fine Zahar Noble."
With Talis having gone so far as to say this, it was hard to keep openly nursing a grudge.
Rahmann cleared his throat lightly and raised Turan back to his feet.
"From what I've heard, my daughter also went too far with her words. Since you've apologized like this, I, too, would like to put that incident behind me and get along with you as a stepbrother. Berit?"
"Dad, but he stabbed my face......!"
"Berit."
At Rahmann's stern expression, Berit pushed her lips out into a sulky pout, then murmured a small "Sorry".
For an eighteen-year-old girl not long out of puberty, a situation in which she had to be the one apologizing to the boy who had slashed up her face could hardly be welcome.
Whatever had set it off.
Having reconciled with Rahmann's family to some degree, Turan was at last able to see his adoptive father, Haroon, again.
"Daddy!"
"Oh, my boy! You've shot right up while I wasn't looking!"
"He's certainly grown, that's for sure."
Turan, now not far from turning ten, already stood over 150 centimeters tall.
Compared with children his age, he was considerably tall.
Then again, his father Karim and his great-uncle Haroon were both giants nearly two meters tall to begin with, and his grandfather Talis, though shorter than them, was still tall by anyone else's measure, was he not?
Seen this way, the direct Zahar line tended to be unusually tall even among the Nobles.
"So, how was it, living with your uncle?"
"It was a bit stifling, but I learned a lot, so it was good."
At the sight of Turan speaking so maturely, Haroon felt he might cry.
That spoiled little thing, changed so much in such a short time, did children really grow up this fast?
"Just how hard did you ride him to......Ju- Talis. You didn't actually hit Turan, did you?"
"For disciplinary purposes, yes. I never caused him unnecessary pain."
Haroon's eyes went round for a moment at the admission that there had indeed been some hitting, but then he turned his gaze to Turan, who was patting his knee.
Having spent so much time with the child, he understood at once that it meant don't fight.
"All right, my boy. What did you learn from your uncle?"
"People have to keep their manners. Without manners you're a beast, and people don't want to associate with beasts."
Hearing this, Haroon felt disappointment and satisfaction at the same time.
It was a shame that the adorable way the boy used to throw childish tantrums without a hint of shame was gone, but as Talis had said, if he was to live among others, he needed exactly this kind of social grace.
"And when you get angry, you don't show it right away. You look at the situation and how strong your opponent is, and you keep it hidden inside. Then, when they leave an opening, when they can't strike back even if I stab them, that's when you aim, and you stab, and you dig in and finish them off. So they can never take revenge."
"Talis......."
"What? There's nothing wrong with him learning it."
Hadn't he gone and turned the boy into a complete second Talis?
Haroon looked at the two of them in disbelief, then shook his head.
Then again, when it came down to it, the boy carried that one's blood, and even before being possessed, Talis had had a somewhat similar temperament, so it was probably unavoidable.
When the three months of instruction came to an end, Turan returned to the Family Head's residence where Haroon lived, but he continued to come down to Talis's mansion periodically to be taught.
He also mingled with the boys and girls of House Zahar who were a few years older or younger than him,
and since Turan had become a boy who hid a blade in his heart yet seemed quite well-mannered on the outside, even if he was not hugely welcomed, he was able to blend in without any glaring rough edges, at least compared with before.
And so, around the time two years had passed, Turan, at the age of twelve, at last awakened his Magic Power.
Compared with other children, it was neither especially early nor especially late.
"Oh......."
"Not bad at all, is it? Who'd have thought a child born between Karim and a commoner would amount to this much."
The Zahar Nobles who measured the amount of Magic Power Turan first manifested gave it the assessment 'beyond imagination'.
Although there was a fair amount of variability, from the first awakening one could gauge to some extent the ceiling of a Wizard's growth through the amount that increased naturally as he aged.
Going by the experience House Zahar had accumulated over the past several thousand years, Turan's Magic Power, even if things went truly badly, would land at least in the middle ranks, and with luck could aim as high as the very top tier.
Considering he was the child of a low-ranking Noble and a commoner, it was a truly remarkable achievement.
"But that aside, it's still not enough to make him worthy of being the Family Head's Adopted Son."
"That's true enough."
Rahmann, Alma, and Ferga, who were currently regarded as candidates for Heir, had all been born with Magic Power far more powerful than Turan's from the moment of their awakening.
Powerful enough to crush mature Knights who had already completed their Magic Power Absorption.
Indeed, was it not said that even Meisa of House Aravion, their sworn rival, had possessed, from the moment she first awakened, Magic Power that, while only barely clearing the bar, already qualified as a Noble's?
But Haroon, upon confirming this, gave a simple answer.
"My intention to make Turan my Adopted Son remains unchanged. However, I hereby declare publicly that this bears no relation to the position of the family's Heir."
At these words the Zahar Nobles were thrown into confusion, but soon arrived naturally at a single conclusion.
They concluded that Haroon meant to raise Turan not as the next Family Head, but as the next second-in-command.
"He's to inherit Talis-nim's position?"
"Right. The current Heir candidates have been at odds with one another for ages from all their competing, haven't they? So the idea is to designate and raise, from the very start, a second-in-command who won't compete with the Heirs and can therefore help lead the family on good terms with them."
"But for that, they'd have had to know roughly what his magical aptitude would be before his Magic Power even awakened......."
"Shh. Don't talk about that."
One of the rumors that circulated quietly among the various Great Noble Houses was that the upper echelons of a house were able to discern a Wizard's aptitude in advance, to a certain degree.
In fact, there were not infrequent cases of individuals who, though not born into any especially great family, had been given special treatment from before their Magic Power Awakening and then manifested tremendous talent to become Family Head.
Of course, no house officially acknowledged this.
One of the reasons they came to suspect this possibility was the staggering magical talent the young Turan displayed.
"Teacher, I'm done."
"Huh......already?"
"Yes."
Foden Zahar, the Zahar Elder who served as magic instructor to the young Zahar Nobles, opened his eyes wide at the sight of Turan executing the magic he had taught to perfection.
Dancing flames; water that formed out of empty air, froze, melted into liquid, and vaporized over and over; the wind that swept it all away; and even the lightning that struck the sodden earth.
And not only that, even when Turan brought out magic he had learned months earlier, he handled it with great skill.
Considering that Wizards generally took a fairly long time to master a single spell to perfection, and that their proficiency decayed in an instant if it went unused, it was truly astonishing.
He could fairly be called, quite literally, a genius without precedent or equal.
"With talent like this......."
"He could just kill a Wizard with about half again as much Magic Power as himself."
The Zahar Nobles' main strategy was said to be tracking a target and then ambushing them with projectile attacks from Concealment, but the need for other magic was hardly small.
No, rather, precisely because they had no bloodline magic specialized for offense, they needed to be proficient in every kind of attack magic.
That was the only way to make striking at an opponent's weaknesses easier.
"At this rate, could he really be in the running for the Heir's seat......?"
"No, that's surely a stretch. There's a limit to the Magic Power he was born with. As we said before, a capable second-in-command is just about the right fit."
"True enough."
Despite being born with such talent, the reason Turan drew no active wariness from the other Heir candidates was that the amount of Magic Power he had been born with sat at an ambiguous level.
He was very likely to occupy a fairly high place among the Zahar Nobles, but there was almost no chance he would possess power on the level of a Family Head.
If anything, Rahmann, Alma, and Ferga made efforts to stay close to Turan and win his favor.
Since the position of the next Family Head was decided entirely by the current Family Head's will, the say of the Adopted Son Haroon cherished was bound to carry some influence, after all.
And so the boy born with quite respectable Magic Power and staggering magical talent, Turan Zahar, grew into a Zahar Noble in his own right.
*****
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