This was one of the simple tricks Turan had learned while spending ti in Kalamaf.
Glancing back, the knight was still watching forward without noticing anything.
Though he had keen senses, if not quite as sharp as a noble's, he should have heard the sound just now.
The power to make people unable to recognize natural reactions occurring from specific actions by the caster.
This was why Zahar's concealnt ability was special.
Just as one unconsciously overlooks clear footprints appearing in the desert, even though the lock made a sound, they couldn't connect it to soone's presence.
They probably wouldn't notice until they were directly contacted or recognized an attack coming toward them.
Turan entered the library, closed the door, and looked back.
The first things catching his eye were the round walls and spiral staircase he had beco quite familiar with after entering several tis before.
In front of that was a middle-aged man, the Librarian, sitting at a desk.
"Elder?"
He called out just in case, but the Librarian seed unable to detect him.
Perhaps even a spirit created by a god couldn't see through Zahar's concealnt.
Since his mana was rapidly decreasing due to the bright magical lamps on the ceiling, Turan dropped his concealnt and approached him.
"It's been a while, Librarian Elder."
But for so reason, the Librarian sat blankly at his desk without responding to Turan.
His appearance, not even blinking, was like a well-made doll.
"...Elder?"
Turan poked the Librarian's shoulder but his finger passed through as if nothing was there.
Co to think of it, hadn't he already experienced that direct contact was impossible last ti?
In his surprise, he hadn't thought that far for a mont.
'Could it be because I didn't co with proper entry permission?'
Since the head of House Baltas was both the city's owner and the library's owner, perhaps entry would only be recognized with his permission.
As Turan's expression grew serious, suddenly the Librarian turned his head and spoke.
"Well, was that convincing?"
"...Yes."
Turan burst into a helpless laugh, and the Librarian also smiled mischievously.
He had known this person, or rather spirit, was like this since their first eting, but to think he would play another trick.
"You really surprised ."
"Seeing your face made it worth trying. So, you've returned quite quickly? Given how confidently you set out, I thought it would take at least ten years."
"I thought so too. But I saw and heard too many things for just a brief visit."
From the secret of his birth to secrets about gods and bloodlines, and mysterious conspiracies—there were so many things he wanted to ask about.
Turan decided to start with what seed simplest to confirm.
"Could you look at my bloodlines again?"
"That's not difficult."
As he had done before, the Librarian imdiately plunged his finger into Turan's body.
"Pursuer, Hunter, and Grand Technician."
Grand Technician probably referred to just the wind-controlling power from the storm bloodline.
It seed this had been absorbed into Arabion's bloodline long ago and forgotten after being integrated under the na storm bloodline.
"And one still hasn't opened. To inherit two types from each side, you really had incredibly good luck."
Though he had expected it to so degree, the lightning-controlling bloodline ability was also latent.
Satisfied with learning this fact, Turan brought up another question he was curious about.
"Did all the Prea god-folk have four bloodlines—or what you call types?"
"Hmm? Yes, that's right. You certainly haven't been idle. Where did you hear about such things? Perhaps so spirits remain besides ?"
"I'm not sure if it was a spirit, but I think I saw sothing similar."
Turan explained exactly what he had seen to the Librarian.
About the ruins called the gods' tomb far in the Enril Desert and the labyrinth sleeping beneath it, up to the monsters made by gods newly molding giants and the process of turning wizards into gods.
Finally, when he showed the experint journal left by the unknown labyrinth creator, the Librarian groaned softly while twirling his beard.
"Hmm, underground labyrinth and experints to create gods... who on earth did such things?"
"Was it the La Goddess after all?"
"Probably not. Wait, let search through so books that used to exist."
The Librarian lifted his eyeballs slightly as if thinking about sothing, then began rolling them around.
Not up-down-left-right like people usually do, but literally continuously rolling in just one direction.
After bizarrely rolling his eyes for a few minutes like that, the Librarian suddenly snapped his fingers and a translucent book appeared in front of Turan.
"Read this. It's one of the docunts lost after the fall of what you call the old empire. The writing and handwriting are exactly the sa."
The ability to materialize lost books—this was sothing he hadn't shown before.
Turan tried to turn the pages but, like the Librarian's body, this too couldn't be touched.
Instead, pressing strange symbols on the left and right would turn the pages one by one.
'This handwriting...'
As the Librarian said, it was exactly the sa handwriting as what the labyrinth's master had used to write about the Night Hunter.
It seed to be like a diary, but perhaps the owner wasn't very enthusiastic about writing as there wasn't much content on each page.
[That pig bastard Otas is a real idiot.
Even when I tell him that leaving a race capable of scientific thinking will surely beco a threat to our descendants in the future, and that we need to exterminate them in advance, he won't listen because it's botherso.
If I didn't need tracking abilities, I wouldn't have had to ask that bastard for help.
Let him spend his whole life chasing won...]
Though uncertain who this person or perhaps god nad Otas was, strong ill feelings toward him were clearly expressed.
The next page contained an answer to what was just complained about.
[I thought of a way to exterminate those steampunk rat bastards without Otas's help.
We'll modify the ones we capture.
Make it so their offspring will definitely manifest low intelligence, superior physical abilities, and excessive violence.
It would be good to make them maintain constant heat and enhance their pheromone tracking abilities.
If we release and let such specins breed in mass in what's essentially an apocalyptic situation, probably after dozens of generations the entire race will beco idiots.
Their proud defense systems won't work against breeding-capable fellow beings either.
At least our descendants won't be hunted by rat bastards in steam airships in the distant future.]
The passages treating an entire race like his toys were chilling even considering the targets weren't human.
Turan asked the Librarian beside him about an unfamiliar word he didn't understand.
"Do you know what 'steampunk' ans?"
"Well."
The Librarian answered only that with an ambiguous attitude that made it unclear whether he knew or not.
After quietly scanning the two diary entries, Turan realized those "steampunk rat bastards" referred to the dwarves.
Degrading intelligence and maximizing physical abilities—wasn't that exactly what happened to them?
Moreover, the fact that ancient dwarven relics used steam power also connected with the ntion of steam airships.
'...As I suspected, this god had the ability to manipulate life.'
But among the Prea god-folk he knew and the bloodline abilities passed down to their descendants, there was no such power.
Perhaps it was a god from the south or east he hadn't visited, or if not, a forgotten god who left no descendants and thus wasn't recorded in scripture.
Turning the page further, completely different content appeared this ti.
[The humans here are fundantally flawed.
Not simply because they've lived as other races' slaves for so long, but because they completely lack the ability to explore new phenona.
That's why they haven't progressed a single step in hundreds of years and only use what we provide.
Should this be considered a problem of brain structure?
Is it possible to artificially inject "creativity" into humans?
And can we continue to control them during that process?]
Though he had seed concerned about his descendants before, in this entry he showed an attitude of wanting to modify and control humans at will.
Had sothing changed in his mind during the ti that passed between the previous entries and this one?
Feeling strangely chilled, Turan turned to the next page only to realize it was the last.
[Having a lifespan is absurd
There must be so way
What could it be???
The class change experint from before
If I use that as a vessel and transfer the body first]
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