Shepherd Wizard (Novel) - Chapter 169

Chapter 169

Read it only at Utoon.net!
Discord         

As the aftermath of the war was coming to a close, Solif immediately took the Baraha mages and returned to Kalamaf.

Under strict supervision, they would later emerge from a secret passage hidden somewhere in the Temple of the Sun, just as the Parsha mages had done before.

As for Turan, he had to focus on the follow-up work, which was even more tedious and troublesome than the war itself.

Checking and resupplying the materials used in this battle, especially the gunpowder, was difficult to delegate to others since he managed it personally.

Additionally, it was important to account for those who had been sacrificed to the Carmine mages and merfolk.

Besides the mages who died directly in combat, there were several villages that suffered damage because they were in the path of the enemy’s advance.

“So the civilian casualties amount to roughly four to five hundred…”

“I know this might sound inappropriate, but for a war of this scale, that’s not a particularly high death toll. You could be a bit more pleased about it.”

Perhaps due to Turan’s downcast expression as he muttered, Asiz, who was flipping through documents across from him, spoke as if making an excuse.

He too, as a noble, wasn’t someone with such a crude personality that he would mutter about the deaths of commoners being worthless, but he still felt that such a sacrifice was acceptable given the significant achievements.

Probably anyone in the world would think the same.

Except for the lord before him.

“Those who fought hard below may rejoice, but I shouldn’t. These people died partly because of me.”

If he had planned the strategy more meticulously, perhaps not as many would have died.

Hearing these words mixed with regret and remorse, Asiz spoke in a serious tone to his friend.

“Turan, what you’re talking about isn’t the way of humans. Perfectly coordinating and controlling everything… that’s the way of gods.”

If one wanted to achieve everything they desired without mistakes or frustrations, wouldn’t they need to be at least that much?

Humans couldn’t bear such responsibility.

“Well, even gods weren’t all that impressive from what we’ve seen. What you’re describing would require something even more extraordinary.”

Though such words might cause devout followers of the Freya faith to convulse, none of the high-ranking members of Parsha or its allied forces maintained their religious faith.

After all, they had learned how pathetically and despicably those who claimed to be gods were prolonging their lives.

As they conversed, Turan suddenly had such a thought.

How nice it would be if there were a god who could more perfectly coordinate and control the world, as Asiz had said.

Not to the extent of controlling everyone’s every move, but if there could be a single shepherd to govern this vast pasture that was the world…

* * *

After some more time passed and all the documents were organized, Turan left his office and headed to his quarters.

Not long after, a small black eagle hawk landed on his shoulder from the distant sky.

-Did you come back, Bije?

-Yes! I took Solif to the little one and came back!

After the war ended, Turan had sent Bije along with Solif on his return journey.

Since the other side might start suspecting that Baraha’s army was fake, the plan was for Solif to quickly join the fake army on Bije and demonstrate some force.

If the family head appeared at the front and displayed his power a few times, no one would think that the army was filled with just commoners.

-Did you do well? Are you tired?

-Not at all! But I am a bit hungry!

Despite having exerted herself in this battle and then spending several hours transporting Solif, Bije showed no signs of fatigue, bouncing energetically on Turan’s shoulder.

Thanks to her playful affection, Turan was able to return to his quarters with a smile despite his exhaustion.

When he checked what Meisa, who had returned earlier, was doing, he found her deeply engrossed in reading in the study.

“What are you reading?”

“Just something.”

Knowing it was probably a romance novel, Turan didn’t bother asking for the title and instead sat down beside her, embracing her.

Through her faint scent, he could sense a vitality different from before.

“You seem to be in a good mood.”

“Yes. Even though all I did was cast a few spells from the back, going out for a walk after so long was refreshing.”

It had been a month since she realized she was pregnant and had been confined to the family head’s quarters.

The fact that just going out briefly could elevate her mood so much indicated how stifling it had been to be cooped up here.

Turan could understand Meisa’s feelings to some extent.

After all, his residence itself wasn’t particularly spacious for a great family head’s quarters.

This was also a structural issue with Kalamaf City.

Since it was fundamentally a small city, there wasn’t enough space to create a magnificent residence like other great families had.

Of course, having a smaller family headquarters made it easier to maintain secrecy, but still.

“Maybe we should build a new city later.”

“Build a city?”

“Yes. Like Morgen, we could design and create an entire metropolis from scratch. We could shape the terrain with our power… but food would be an issue. The problem is that the Gray Zone itself isn’t a particularly abundant place.”

Of course, if they could import grain cheaply from the Dakein Plains to the northwest, controlled by Arabion, food wouldn’t be an issue.

While it might lag slightly behind the Land of Lakes in terms of food variety, wasn’t it the most abundant place in the world in terms of simple produce?

“Come to think of it, I heard the Dakein Plains aren’t doing so well these days.”

“Why?”

“Not only is there a shortage of mages due to the war, but more importantly, there’s an overflow of grain, it seems.”

Typically, having too much is worse than having too little.

The grain produced annually by the most abundant land in the world naturally required markets to consume it.

However, unlike in the past when there were plenty of places to export to, Arabion’s current situation wasn’t particularly good.

Trade with nearby Carmine had naturally stagnated after they had been growling at each other about going to war until recently.

Due to the war with Parsha, which controlled the southeastern Gray Zone, maritime transport through the Northern Sea was practically blocked, meaning the transportation route connecting to the Enril Desert was effectively cut off.

If not for the relatively high food demand from displaced people rebuilding cities in the forest region directly to the south, an economic collapse would have been inevitable.

“…I see.”

Meisa listened to Turan’s explanation with a somewhat blank expression.

Issues like grain overflowing and prices becoming excessively cheap were things she had never particularly thought about.

Perhaps if Arabion had intended to raise Meisa as a proper heir, they would have at least taught her such concepts.

After discussing grain prices and market economics for a while, Meisa shifted the topic to something she had been curious about all along.

“So, are we going to invade Ruban right away now?”

“I was planning to, but I think it’s better to rest for a while first. Not too long, but a few weeks at least.”

“Why? Last time you said it would be better to press on immediately.”

Meisa’s eyes widened in surprise at this unexpected answer.

Turan sat down beside her with a somewhat dejected expression and smiled.

“The mages of our family, as well as those from Baraha, are suffering from severe mental fatigue. While defending against an invasion like this one might be manageable, launching an attack would be difficult.”

On the way back after the battle ended.

Turan had noticed this fact as he observed the Baraha army and his own subordinates returning ahead of him.

Even in the midst of reveling in their victory, their eyes, movements, and emanating scent carried deep fatigue.

Not physical fatigue, but the mental inflammation of those who had repeatedly engaged in killing and being killed.

Turan, with his sharp senses, could detect such emotions that even they themselves might not have been aware of.

“Hmm…”

“When you think about it, we’ve fought battles in the past few months that others would have spread over years or decades, so it’s understandable.”

From Badal’s attack to this recent battle, they had engaged in three major conflicts, and if one counted the minor magical beast subjugations in between, they had risked their lives in combat more than a dozen times in the past year or two.

Considering that members of mage families typically fight like this once every few months at the shortest, or once every few decades if lucky, this was an excessively short period.

Of course, not everyone had participated in all these battles, as some had joined the family during this time or had defended the headquarters during the war, but war created an atmosphere that depleted even those who didn’t directly participate.

Especially since mages were often related to each other, even if distantly.

“Now that you mention it, I think I understand what you mean.”

Meisa said she had sensed such signs in the past while commanding the dark elf subjugation force.

There were those who, exhausted and worn down by continuous fighting, couldn’t exert their full abilities and died helplessly.

Moreover, most of the battles Parsha had recently experienced were human versus human, making the mental fatigue even greater.

After all, slaughtering fellow humans couldn’t be the same as hunting other species that one had been taught from childhood were merely animals to be killed.

Of course, anomalies like Turan felt little difference in this regard and didn’t tire despite fighting more often and for longer than others, but that was simply because he was unusual.

At least he was self-aware enough to recognize his own abnormality.

“Additionally, we need to resupply our war materials to some extent… I can’t throw unprepared people into battle just because I’m feeling impatient.”

Though he wanted to eliminate all the other great families immediately for the sake of the child growing in Meisa’s womb, he couldn’t drive all his followers to destruction for this purpose.

Turan was a father to an unborn child, but before that, he was the head of a great family, a shepherd leading his flock.

Meisa, who had been staring at his anguished face, waved her hand toward him.

“Here, would you like to see this?”

“Hm? Ah…”

Turan let out a soft groan as he looked at what she was pointing to.

Meisa’s abdomen, revealed as she gently lifted her upper garment, had become slightly rounded, unlike before when it had been perfectly flat.

“Until recently, it wasn’t noticeable at all, but lately it seems to be growing rapidly. I had to change my clothes because of it.”

“Now that you mention it, I did notice your clothes were a bit different from before.”

During the time when she couldn’t eat due to psychological issues, Meisa had worn excessively loose clothing to hide her skeletal frame.

After resolving this and gaining a reasonable amount of weight, she had preferred form-fitting clothes that showed off her slender yet curvy body, but the clothes she was wearing now were more similar to what she had favored before.

“Honestly, I thought you would notice sooner.”

“I’m sorry. My mind has been elsewhere lately.”

“I’m just joking. I know how busy you are. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for not being able to help properly because of my condition.”

Meisa shook her head with a smile at Turan’s quick apology.

“Anyway, don’t be too hasty. I think I was also a bit too frightened by what I said before… after all, the method that the Zahar family head mentioned isn’t even common, right?”

“That’s true. It’s just problematic because the possibility exists.”

As Harun had done in the past, to massacre children of a specific bloodline on a massive scale naturally required enormous resources.

Specifically, a large number of souls contained in a soul prison magical device like the jewel box Turan now possessed.

Using that for any other purpose would be incredibly useful, making its use to kill Turan’s child an utterly meaningless waste.

But even knowing this, he couldn’t help but feel anxious.

Because he felt that someone in the world, someone harboring terrible malice toward Turan, might try to harm them by any means necessary.

“Would you like to listen? I think you can hear sounds now too.”

“Really?”

At Meisa’s words, Turan gently placed his ear against her belly.

Indeed, as she had said, after a short while, there was a sound like something bouncing: thump, thump.

So faint that even with a noble’s superior hearing, it wouldn’t be audible without placing one’s ear directly against it.

“It’s true…”

Though he had seen pregnant women quite often and heard the sound of babies moving in the womb many times, this was naturally the first time he had placed his ear directly against one.

It was entirely different from hearing it from a distance-a sensation of literally feeling life at close proximity.

At that moment, a voice came from within Turan.

-I want to listen too! I want to hear Turan and Meisa’s child!

Bije, who had been resting quietly, suddenly jumped out and stood between the two, crying out mentally.

Meisa, who had been startled and leaned back, laughed after hearing Turan’s explanation and offered her belly.

“Yes, Bije, you can listen too.”

However, unlike Turan, Bije couldn’t hear the sound despite pressing her head tightly against Meisa’s belly.

At just under three months of pregnancy, Bije’s hearing wasn’t sufficient to detect the still tiny movements.

If she had been a magical beast derived from a species with good hearing, she might have heard it easily, but eagle hawks were known for their tremendous vision rather than exceptional hearing.

-I can’t hear it…

“You’ll be able to hear it when it gets bigger. Just wait a little longer.”

Turan stroked the dejected Bije and smiled.

Spending time like this seemed to completely dispel the gloom he had felt during the war’s aftermath.

* * *

After recovering from mental fatigue through such sweet rest, Turan decided to return to his duties.

This time, it was work to be done not as the head of Parsha, but as an adversary of the gods.

Specifically, managing the souls of the two gods he had collected in this recent battle.

[Nice to meet you, Jemel. No, you must have a real name? What should I call you?]

The young man looking at Turan from the middle of the cold prison appeared to be in his early twenties.

Though his appearance was quite different, his face resembled someone from the same region as Kadram, whom he had captured previously.

This was probably Jemel’s physical form before he became a player, before he inhabited a vessel.

[…What do you want from me, Master of Parsha?]

Seeing Jemel’s submissive attitude from the start, Turan smiled but inwardly raised his guard.

From past experience, those who knew how to bow like this were often more insidious behind the scenes than those who openly displayed arrogance.

[Excessive formality isn’t necessary. If you serve faithfully as a prisoner here, I can provide some conveniences. However…]

As he had done with Lesion and the other half-elves before, Turan calmly warned Jemel.

If he tried to evade interrogation through shallow tricks like withdrawing his consciousness, he would be immediately destroyed.

[In case you might take my warning lightly, let me show you an example.]

What he brought out was a fragment of Kadram’s soul from another prison.

Though a small portion had been lost because Turan had consumed it, enough remained to recognize that it had once been the spirit form of a god, albeit horribly fragmented.

Seeing this, Jemel’s eyes widened.

[Jun-seo…]

[Jun-seo?]

At Turan’s question, Jemel closed his mouth briefly before willingly revealing that he had known Kadram-or Alt, as he was called in the game-in the world outside the game.

[I see.]

From what Turan vaguely knew, in a “game,” people typically didn’t reveal their true identities to each other, so if that was the case, Jemel and Kadram-or Jun-seo-might have been closer than expected.

However, Jemel firmly denied this, shaking his head.

[I knew him, but we weren’t particularly close. We didn’t meet for a good purpose…]

According to Jemel, he and Kadram had met to engage in a physical fight.

They had quarreled in the game and, refusing to back down, decided to resolve it in person.

Normally, such arrangements would fall through with one or both parties failing to show up, but for some reason, both appeared at the meeting place and saw each other’s faces.

When they actually met, Jemel was much bigger and older, which intimidated Kadram, so Jemel just accepted an apology and let it end there.

[Well, that’s quite an interesting story, but let’s save it for later… Do you have any information that might be useful to us?]

Turan’s conditions were the same as those he had offered the half-elves before.

If Jemel revealed something useful, he would receive good treatment; if not, he would simply be thrown into this cold stone prison.

If he refused to cooperate completely, he might end up like Kadram, torn to shreds with only remnants imprisoned for eternity.

[I’ll answer anything. So…]

Having heard the threat, Jemel immediately began to share what he knew, but unfortunately, not much of it was useful.

Information about the gods’ identities or the secrets of this world had already been mostly revealed by Lesion and the other half-elves.

Realizing that Turan knew more than expected and that superficial information wouldn’t earn him anything, Jemel looked flustered.

[That’s not worth anything at all. You’d be better off telling me something only you know. Like internal secrets of the Carmine family.]

The reason Jemel was withholding information about the Carmine family’s internal affairs was easy to guess.

He probably needed something to explain to his leader, the Lawyer, if he somehow managed to escape later.

But without revealing Carmine’s internal secrets, it would be difficult to provide meaningful information to Turan, who already knew most of what there was to know.

After a moment of silence, perhaps to resolve his inner conflict, Jemel finally spoke.

[Then, I’ll tell you about the mastermind behind this recent attack!]

[Mastermind?]

Turan, who had been wearing a somewhat bored expression, narrowed his eyes and leaned forward at Jemel’s words.

Seeing this display of interest, Jemel’s face brightened.

[Yes, the mastermind! We were merely hired. We were instructed to somehow check Parsha’s family from running wild like this…]