Shepherd Wizard (Novel) - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

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Turan awakened his magical powers eight years ago, in the winter when he turned ten.

While his mother was out with the sheep, he thought about lighting a fire, and suddenly flames burst forth from the stove.

Before long, Turan discovered he could do many things just by thinking about them.

Lifting objects, starting fires, making wind blow, and even creating invisible walls…

‘Mom, look at this! The firewood is flying!’

That evening, Turan showed off his abilities to his mother when she returned home with the sheep and sheepdog.

His mother neither marveled at nor rejoiced in her son’s abilities.

She simply caught the floating firewood with an expression mixing resignation and despair.

‘Turan, let’s make a promise. That you won’t use that power recklessly from now on. Especially never in front of others.’

‘Why?’

Though Turan was always an obedient child who listened well to his mother, he couldn’t help but protest at being asked to suppress such fascinating and fun powers.

His mother gave him a cup of warm sheep’s milk and for the first time told him about the world far below.

‘Down below the hills, there are people called nobles.’

According to his mother, nobles were descendants of the Prea divine race who descended to the world long ago to save humanity.

Born with powerful magical powers inherited from their ancestors, they ruled as both rulers and protectors of humans.

And those born from several generations of mixing with ordinary humans were called knights, who also inherited magical powers like nobles but were used as servants because their powers were weaker.

His mother said Turan had inherited a knight’s power from his father, and that if he went down below the mountains, evil nobles would capture him and use him however they pleased.

‘If nobles are like shepherds like us, knights are like the dogs shepherds raise. Sometimes they might treat them like family and cherish them… but they can sell them off or sacrifice them whenever needed.’

Though nobles had everything, they constantly fought among themselves wanting even more, and in the process, it was mostly their subordinate knights who were sacrificed.

Just like how shepherds send their sheepdogs to fight wolves instead of facing them directly, while they just throw stones from behind.

Her face as she explained this held a hopelessness Turan had never seen before in his life.

‘Don’t you want to live with mom for a long, long time, Turan?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you must hide that power. Otherwise, bad nobles will come and take you away. You’ll never be able to see mom again.’

‘I understand, I’ll absolutely never use it in front of others!’

It had been 8 years since making that proud promise.

Even after his mother fell ill and died, Turan continued living as a shepherd on one side of the Hisaril hills.

To avoid the nobles who might come looking for him someday, to avoid becoming their sheepdog.

* * *

“What idiots.”

Turan frowned as he closed the door of his cottage.

Early in the morning before sunrise, village youths had come in a group to interrogate him about Labus’s death from a few days ago.

Though it was clearly evident he had been attacked by a leopard masu, they tried to pin an unfounded accusation on Turan, claiming he must have killed the old man and thrown him to the masu as food.

It wasn’t hard to guess why they were doing this.

After all, an elderly man had gone out and been sacrificed while young men stayed behind.

Before being criticized that the old man died because of their laziness and cowardice, they were clearly trying to use Turan to distribute the blame that would fall on them.

Of course, Turan had thoroughly beaten up the village youths who came to pick a fight and drove them away.

They would probably try to get revenge the next time he went down to the village for bartering, either by cutting prices or tampering with goods.

Then Turan would beat some sense into a few more villagers before making them trade fairly.

It was a tiresome cycle that had already happened several times and would likely continue.

Lost in such thoughts, suddenly someone knocked loudly on the door from outside.

Turan heaved a deep sigh before opening the door with a growl.

“Who the hell is it now? You really want to die?”

Had they become so stupid in the meantime that they’d already forgotten the lesson from earlier?

But unexpectedly, it wasn’t one of the village youths from before beyond the door.

A man who appeared to be in his mid-to-late forties, wearing a dust-covered cloak, spoke with an awkward expression.

“Ah… excuse me, young friend. I’m traveling and was wondering if I could impose on you briefly, but it seems I’ve come at a bad time.”

A traveler – Turan’s mind briefly stopped working at encountering something he’d never seen in his eighteen years of life.

To think there would be someone leisurely enough to travel to such a rural place with nothing to see.

After freezing stiffly for a moment, Turan immediately stepped aside from the door to make way.

“No, not at all. Please come in. Some unpleasant people just left earlier.”

The polite speech he had learned long ago from his mother for addressing elders felt very awkward on his tongue.

When was the last time he had spoken like this?

It had been quite a while, before he learned that Labus and all the village elders were bastards.

“Then excuse me.”

Though it would have been more appropriate to chase away an unknown visitor if he wanted to hide his identity, Turan decided to accept him.

He wanted to have a conversation without hostility with anyone, for the first time in a long while.

Besides, if the other person turned out to be a villain with bad intentions, he was confident he could deal with them.

“Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Not yet.”

“I haven’t either, so let’s eat together.”

Turan sat the traveler at the table and laid out freshly squeezed sheep’s milk, cheese, porridge made from dried grain from the village, a chunk of rock salt, and dried mutton jerky.

Unless starving to death, one should treat guests generously, and then guests won’t dare think of harming the host.

This too was manners learned from his mother.

“We’re in such a poor place, so I don’t have much to offer.”

“What are you saying! This is quite a feast. I’m grateful to eat it.”

It seemed sincere, as the man ate the food Turan had laid out as if he hadn’t eaten for days.

Even while doing so, unlike the villagers, he showed proper table manners.

Such as not talking while chewing and turning his head slightly when drinking something…

The traveler seemed to have a similar impression, as he put down a cup of sheep’s milk and gave Turan a compliment.

“You know basic table manners. You must have been properly taught by your parents.”

“I learned from my mother.”

Sensing something from his not mentioning his father, the traveler hesitated briefly before continuing.

“Is she in the village then? Looking at the house, it doesn’t seem like anyone else lives here.”

He seemed to have already noticed there was only one set of bedding in the house.

Turan nodded and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

“She passed away from illness a few years ago.”

The traveler briefly showed a dismayed expression, then made the sign of the cross with one hand while bowing his head.

It was a gesture Turan had never seen in his life.

“I offer my condolences. Having raised such a fine young man, she must surely be dwelling in the celestial palace with the gods.”

“I hope so as well.”

Around when he lost his mother, just thinking about it would make him lose his appetite and cry all day.

Was being able to mention it with an outward smile now a sign of becoming an adult, or had his mother’s presence in his heart faded with time?

Trying to change the subject to dispel his rapidly darkening mood, Turan forcibly shifted topics.

“By the way, what brings you to travel to such a remote place?”

“I happened to be passing through a nearby city when an old man was looking for a magician to defeat a leopard masu that had appeared in his village. After hearing the story, I came to eliminate it. I’m quite confident in fighting.”

“By yourself?”

For a middle-aged man who would soon be stooped with age, not even in his prime, to try to face it without weapons?

The traveler gave an awkward smile at Turan’s surprised expression.

“I am a knight. I served the Arabion family for sixty years. I can handle ordinary masu well enough.”

At the mention of ‘knight,’ Turan’s eyes widened and his whole body tensed.

An existence he had only heard about from his mother, a noble’s underling…

The tension lasted only briefly, as Turan slowly relaxed upon seeing no hostility in the other’s gaze.

“Why the reaction?”

“It’s my first time seeing a magician… besides, you don’t look like someone who’s worked for sixty years.”

“Magicians age more slowly and live longer than ordinary people. I’m seventy-five this year. This is just because I’m a knight – strong nobles are said to easily live two to three hundred years.”

Turan marveled at this new information and carefully observed one of his own kind.

Outwardly, it was hard to find differences from ordinary people.

If forced to compare, perhaps that he was well-built and looked healthy with good color in his face…

In other words, just looking at someone wouldn’t reveal whether they were a magician.

This was extremely important information.

Even if Turan stood in the middle of a city full of people, no one would know his identity as long as he didn’t use noticeable magic.

Just learning this fact made him feel like a chain around his chest had loosened one loop.

“Magicians really are amazing.”

“Amazing? Not at all! I think people like you are more amazing. Living in such dangerous places where masu appear without even using magical powers? I wouldn’t have dared attempt it.”

Contrary to his thinking, this was the first time a masu threatening to humans had appeared in this area.

That is, since Turan was born.

If that hadn’t been the case, no matter how extraordinary his mother was, she couldn’t have worked as a shepherd alone here.

In fact, the woman who raised a child alone in these desolate hills without even magical powers truly deserved praise.

“Come to think of it, we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. My name is Keorn. Keorn of Arabion- no, I suppose I shouldn’t call myself that anymore. I’m Wanderer Keorn. And you?”

“I’m Turan. The only shepherd of the Hisaril hills.”

“A fine name.”

“But you said earlier you ‘served’ the family – does that mean you’re not with them now?”

“I formally ended my vassal contract a month ago. The family offered to care for me until I died of old age if I wanted… but in my later years, I wanted to travel here and there. I’ve been bound to one family since I was hired at fifteen, after all.”

“Don’t other families try to catch you?”

“Why would they? I’m neither an accomplished knight with great achievements nor a talented youth. What use would they have for an old dog like me except wasting food?”

Though he put himself down as an old dog, his face couldn’t hide an underlying pride and composure.

He’d only heard that nobles were arrogant and cruel predators and knights were their emotionless hunting dogs.

Yet Keorn seemed more relaxed and cheerful than any adult he had ever met.

After finishing the pleasant meal, Keorn stood up and placed a small silver coin on the table.

The face of some handsome unknown man was engraved on the top.

“This is an Arabion silver coin. It has the highest purity among silver coins. It should be more than enough for a meal when trading in the village. Though prices seem quite high in this area.”

Keorn grumbled that this damn village tries to squeeze even people who come to help them, but given the villagers’ character that he had experienced, it wasn’t particularly surprising.

Turan pocketed the coin and bowed politely.

“I hope your hunt goes smoothly.”

“Don’t act like you’ll never see me again. I might come back for more meals!”