Shepherd Wizard (Novel) - Chapter 133

Chapter 133

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Since entering the world, Turan had received marriage proposals numerous times.

From the lord of Orem City to Midela, Asiz’s mother, and various influential lords throughout the gray zone.

What had been his reason for refusing all these offers?

Partly because his innate talents were too precious to be tied down to a single family, but more importantly, because marriage wasn’t something to be decided purely for political advantage.

Marriage is a sacred contract between two people who love each other.

This concept, instilled in him by his mother since childhood, remained unchanged even after seeing and learning much about the world.

“Wouldn’t the granddaughter of the Zahar family head be a rather close relative to me?”

“You would be sixth cousins. That’s sufficiently distant, don’t you think?”

In reality, even marriages between first cousins weren’t particularly uncommon among ordinary mage families.

Since those with noble-level magical power were rarely born, it was difficult for powerful individuals to find suitable partners.

Of course, this was done out of necessity, and even mages didn’t view consanguineous marriages particularly favorably.

It wasn’t without reason that Meisa had bristled when Solif pointed out her possible relation to Turan.

“I appreciate the offer, but I must decline.”

“You don’t seem particularly appreciative to me.”

Despite having his proposal rejected, Talis showed no signs of displeasure.

He remained expressionless, with only his eyes moving as if scanning his opponent.

“I see you’re a bit angry after hearing my proposal just now. Why? Because I suggested someone too closely related? No, that’s not it. Perhaps you attach some great significance to taking a wife? Ah, so that’s it.”

This bizarre behavior of asking questions and then answering them without waiting for a response.

Turan frowned, realizing that his opponent had read his emotions through scent.

Though he often did this himself, being on the receiving end was profoundly unpleasant, like having his insides exposed.

“I thought you were like me. Zahar of Enril. The most cruel, cunning, and merciless breed in the world.”

“Do you believe bloodline determines character?”

“At least among nobles, it seems to hold some truth. You must know it too? That our innate bloodlines influence even our souls… our essence.”

While finding Talis’s words unpleasant, Turan couldn’t help but partially agree.

Indeed, his innate nature of being able to kill and torture those he defined as enemies without the slightest remorse was a characteristic trait of Zahar nobles.

The fact that bloodline symbols manifested in the spirit form meant that bloodlines influenced the soul, the very essence of a human being.

“Well, it’s quite interesting that there are differences. After all, a grandfather and grandson only share a quarter of their blood. Yet your face resembles mine to an almost comical degree.”

Talis seemed quite pleased to have found a chink in Turan’s armor, smiling unlike before.

Yet strangely, he emitted no scent characteristic of pleased individuals.

This too indicated he was wearing a mask.

‘How unpleasant.’

Turan finally understood the source of the discomfort he had felt when meeting Talis while disguised, and again during their current conversation.

It was the instinctive revulsion felt when two individuals with snake-like natures, who always needed to understand their opponents and maintain information superiority to feel secure, met each other.

After organizing his thoughts briefly, Turan replied with a faint smile, just like Talis:

“You’re quite perceptive. That’s right. I want to have one complete partner, and I want that person to be someone who can truly share love with me.”

“I think Karim said something similar once. Is that a trait you inherited from him?”

At the unexpected mention of his father, Turan quickly attempted meditation to calm his emotions.

After all, he knew from his previous encounter in Carmine that his father had been killed by the man before him.

To avoid revealing that he knew this, he needed to dispel the surge of hostility that threatened to emerge.

Fortunately, his practice in mental discipline hadn’t been in vain, and Turan was able to enter a meditative state before his hostility could manifest.

Having quickly emptied his emotions, he masked his deliberate calm as natural, displaying only mild curiosity as he asked:

“I’ve been wanting to hear about my father someday. What kind of person was he?”

“I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know enough to tell you in detail. He was just one of my many children. I do recall that despite his always stolid face, he had a sentimental nature. Come to think of it, he wasn’t very Zahar-like at all. If only he hadn’t lost his life during the war with Arabion.”

Even while speaking about the son he had killed, Talis wore an affectionate expression as if longing for someone who had passed away.

There was no need to wonder where Turan’s acting skills came from.

After exchanging a few words to lighten the atmosphere, Turan presented his organized thoughts.

“Getting back to the main point, let’s start with meeting the young lady first.”

“Meeting her?”

“If you send the young lady you mentioned earlier to our side, I’ll seriously consider courtship. If our hearts align, we might become family through blood as you suggested.”

“It sounds to me like you’re planning to evade the situation for now and change your words later?”

Talis sharply hit the mark, but Turan replied without changing his expression:

“Even if we formed a marriage without genuine feelings, could you really expect it to be binding? Since I won’t be living in the Enril Desert, I could simply discard a wife or child if necessary.”

“Hmm.”

“But as I said earlier, I take marriage and partnership seriously. Since I don’t make decisions lightly, one could expect that a union formed after appropriate interaction would have strong binding power. As a bonus, Zahar would have someone placed among a potentially threatening force who could serve as their eyes and ears.”

As Turan stated, his proposal involved Kalamaf accepting some degree of sacrifice.

Having the Zahar granddaughter as an outsider meant they couldn’t easily prevent her from leaving after seeing all sorts of secrets.

“Then, what about that young lady?”

“Who do you mean?”

“Don’t pretend. I mean the Arabion young lady. You two seem to have more than an ordinary relationship. And it doesn’t appear to be one-sided.”

He made a marriage proposal knowing this?

While inwardly clicking his tongue in disbelief, Turan offered his prepared response.

“As you said, I am cruel and merciless Zahar. I know what to prioritize and what to cut away if necessary.”

Following this, the office fell silent for a moment.

Only the silent struggle continued—Talis trying to analyze his opponent’s intentions using sight and smell, and Turan remaining as unresponsive as a statue.

Shortly after, Talis tapped the desk with his fingernail and asked:

“How many guards would be acceptable to bring?”

* * *

Several dozen minutes later, the two returned to the conference room and announced the results of the summit to the waiting Zahar and Kalamaf nobles.

They would establish a non-aggression treaty on the condition that the Zahar family head’s granddaughter would come to Kalamaf to court Turan.

Hearing this, both factions fell into confusion for different reasons.

First, several Zahar nobles showed discomfort at the idea of establishing non-aggression based on such a vague condition as courtship rather than marriage—something that seemed far too tenuous to provide any binding power.

Hadn’t Turan even admitted to killing Alma, one of Zahar’s heirs?

Instead of issuing a death warrant for someone who had killed their heir, they were sending the family head’s granddaughter almost like tribute.

But surprisingly, there were more who supported this flimsy condition than opposed it.

“I support this.”

“Nubelle, are you… taking this stance because you think it’s not your concern?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You should be thinking about the family’s interests, not displaying personal emotions.”

A supporter of Rahman, the only remaining Zahar heir, spoke up brazenly, raising his head.

For them, a non-aggression treaty between Turan and Zahar was a task that absolutely had to be accomplished.

‘If we confront him and he submits to join the family… Lord Rahman would have no chance. We need to keep him outside the family for now.’

Even the massacre of Alma and her faction had, upon consideration, actually benefited Rahman, so there was no reason to harbor hostility—if anything, gratitude would be more appropriate.

The implication was that they would be satisfied as long as he remained an independent force until Rahman became family head.

Additionally, there was no need to worry about the risk of him building influence within the family through marriage to the family head’s granddaughter.

Considering the background of Turan’s marriage partner.

While the Zahar side was calculating, every noble from Kalamaf was watching one woman.

“Hmm.”

“Ah, this is…”

In truth, the conditions Turan had secured were so favorable from Kalamaf’s perspective that they bordered on charity.

It wasn’t an immediate marriage that would bind him, just courtship that could be terminated at an appropriate time, and having the Zahar family head’s granddaughter stay in Kalamaf was essentially like holding a hostage.

The only problem was that everyone knew Turan already had someone who was essentially half a partner.

The woman with reddish-brown hair who was the focus of everyone’s attention, Meisa Arabion, had no expression on her face.

Not the blank look of someone with no particular thoughts, but more like a doll whose emotions had been erased.

After a moment of silence filled only with groans and mumbling, she finally spoke:

“It’s a good condition. Isn’t it?”

Naturally, no one dared to agree with a “yes, it is.”

Turan and Meisa never once made eye contact.

After each side had their discussions, they proceeded to formalize the non-aggression treaty.

There weren’t any complex trap clauses like those in commoners’ treaties.

After all, contracts between nobles relied on their accumulated honor and dignity, and even if broken by force, there existed no entity to judge them.

After the document was prepared, Talis grasped Turan’s hand and said quietly:

“I’m glad we could have such a pleasant discussion. Though I likely won’t be able to visit personally next time, I hope you’ll get along well with the child who will come. I personally think of her as a daughter.”

Does thinking of her as a daughter mean he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if necessary?

Keeping this thought to himself, Turan grasped his hand and shook it.

* * *

After completing the peace agreement, Talis immediately left Kalamaf with the nobles who had accompanied him.

Though this violated standard courtesy, Turan wasn’t particularly concerned with such matters and even welcomed it.

Above all, he didn’t want them to know that his physical condition wasn’t particularly good at the moment.

“Kuk.”

With a cough, Turan controlled the blood that surged up using fluid manipulation magic, sending it out through a corridor window.

Had a Zahar noble been nearby, they would have smelled this blood and immediately known there was a problem with his health.

It was fortunate that he had managed to suppress his coughing during the meeting.

Normally, whenever he coughed up blood, Meisa would be there to wipe it away.

But after the peace agreement ended, she had gone to her room saying she was tired and hadn’t emerged all day.

“Ah, Lord Turan…”

A female knight standing guard in the corridor placed her hand on her chest in salute, looking flustered upon seeing Turan.

He could detect a slight anger from her.

The Berk family knights felt a bond with their blood relative Meisa, so they were angry about Turan’s recent decision.

“I’ve come to see Meisa. Is she inside?”

Of course, this was merely a courtesy question.

He possessed numerous abilities to detect people nearby, including the Mimic Holy Relic.

He already knew that Meisa had sensed his presence.

“The young lady is…”

Just as the female knight was about to lie that Meisa was out, the door behind her suddenly opened.

Meisa, her face shadowed, spoke to Turan:

“Let’s talk outside.”

“Alright.”

It seemed she didn’t just mean in the garden, as Meisa immediately used flight magic to fly away at full speed after leaving the mansion.

For Turan, whose magical power was less than hers, keeping up naturally required his full effort.

About ten minutes later, the two landed on a rocky mountain several dozen kilometers from Kalamaf.

It was a place with no trace of human presence.

“Meisa, I…”

The moment Turan spoke first, lightning immediately erupted from Meisa’s hand.

A lightning spell with such mastery that there wasn’t even the slightest precursor like static electricity.

Turan received the magic without making any attempt to defend himself.

The intense impact that struck his chest spread throughout his body, stiffening his muscles.

“Ugh…”

As if she hadn’t expected him to take the hit directly, Meisa’s face momentarily showed concern and worry.

But that was only for a moment before her face contorted again as she looked down at the fallen Turan.

Feeling the numbing pain flowing through his body, Turan lay on the ground and met Meisa’s eyes as she looked down at him.

‘She must have been crying a lot.’

Though he had seen her trying to reduce the swelling by applying something like ice to her eyes earlier, unfortunately, for a noble as powerful as her, even that was difficult.

After all, such mild cold would barely affect her body.

With eyes swollen red, Meisa looked down at Turan and then mounted his stomach.

The superior restraint posture she had learned during combat training.

In reality, it was a technique of little use against nobles due to mages’ strength making their weight relatively insignificant.

“You bastard.”

A curse spat out from Meisa’s mouth like she was chewing the words.

This was the first time she had cursed at him, but before he could reflect on this, a cracking sound accompanied an intense pain in his face.

“Kuk.”

Meisa’s fist striking his cheekbone was much more painful than he had expected.

In the dueling arena, Turan would activate the Warrior bloodline before beating her, but without the help of the Mimic Holy Relic, Meisa with her stronger magical power actually had the advantage in pure physical ability.

After repeatedly beating the prone Turan one-sidedly.

Seeing his once-neat face completely bloodied, Meisa breathed heavily before covering her face with both hands.

Turan, his nose broken, asked in a nasal voice:

“Are you crying?”

“Yes, you bastard…”

Perhaps due to her upbringing, she knew few curse words.

The variety of curses coming from Meisa’s mouth was extremely limited.

She looked down at the prone Turan while wiping her flowing tears with her hands.

Though she intellectually understood that this decision was made for everyone’s peace, it was still hard to suppress the feeling of betrayal.

The memories of following him as her savior and living together like a married couple kept surfacing.

At the very least, if he respected her, couldn’t he have told her before making such a decision?

Yet even now, feeling betrayed, seeing him injured because of her made her heart ache.

Especially watching him turn his head and cough up blood.

At that moment, Turan, who had just coughed up blood, gestured to Meisa sitting on top of him and said:

“Could you bring your head closer for a moment…”

Hearing this, Meisa immediately leaned her upper body toward Turan like a well-trained animal.

Rather than feeling sorry for hitting him earlier, it was simply that following Turan’s instructions had become habitual.

In extreme situations like combat, giving directions was always Turan’s role, and his instructions were rarely wrong.

Turan grasped the back of Meisa’s head with one hand and pulled her toward himself.

A moment later, the taste of thick blood flowed into her mouth.