Shepherd Wizard (Novel) - Chapter 246

Chapter 246

The second Age of Exploration brought on by the dimensional gates brought many changes to both Earth and the Cradle World alike.

First, Earth obviously gained the ability to obtain vast amounts of resources by opening new frontiers.

Starting with oil, all manner of rare earths and other rare resources that had been difficult to develop on Earth due to environmental pollution and other factors, as well as helium and various other resources that had completely dried up or were losing viability, came pouring out.

And beyond that, they were able to bring back something even more precious than any other resource from other worlds.

Magic.

The mysterious power that had been the exclusive province of the Cradle World.

Interacting with mages of other worlds and learning their techniques through various means, Earth’s people came to realize that magical power rooted in the soul was latent even within themselves.

They had simply not known the method to manifest it.

Of course, these were different techniques from the Cradle’s Essence-handling magic — they used the source force of the soul instead — but Earth’s people didn’t care.

Because just the prospect of being able to become superhuman was enough to fill the world with people going wild over it.

As knowledge of alien magic spread, the technological advancement that had once stagnated also regained momentum, and the economy was revitalized.

Earth, once like a powder keg on the verge of explosion, now channeled the energy that had been growling toward one another outward — toward alien worlds, toward places closer yet farther than the many planets beyond the universe.

Of course, this connection wasn’t all advantages.

Starting from all manner of new diseases transmitted from other worlds, various incidents and accidents caused by alien creatures that had sneaked through dimensional gates, the treatment of alien workers, and more — the shadows were as deep as the light.

On top of that, Earth’s mages who had obtained the new power of magic also wielded it indiscriminately, committing all manner of crimes.

It could be called the side effects that paradigm shifts and rapid advancement typically bring.

And in this process, Earth’s people came to understand the true nature of the Cradle they had long admired.

This was thanks to a condition Turan had imposed when opening the dimensional gates: spreading his existence to other worlds.

“Do you happen to know of a world called the Cradle?”

“The Cradle? Never heard of it.”

“The ones who coordinated the ability to connect our worlds and yours are they.”

Ashag, a pioneering world.

A British adventurer who had learned the local language through steady exchanges spoke with a certain sage said to have lived for hundreds of years, trying to learn the true nature of the Cradle World.

The answer that came back was truly shocking.

“If what you say is true, then they are most certainly the gods of your world. Only those worthy of worship alone possess the authority to coordinate between worlds and travel among them and bestow their protection. Seeing the powerful tools you possess, they must be indeed powerfully benevolent gods.”

According to the sage’s words, the power to coordinate between worlds was not something an ordinary human could possess.

Only transcendents, gods, demons, and other liberated beings called by various other names could do such things.

As this story spread widely on Earth, the word spread that the beings of the Cradle World were not merely humans who could wield magic but divine beings.

In actuality, the various magic that Earth’s people had learned was also laughably too weak to perform the great miracles comparable to those the Cradle’s mages once displayed.

That the pseudo-religions already taking root on Earth, venerating mages including Turan and others of the Cradle World as gods, thus burst into flame was a truly natural thing.

“They are false gods!”

“And yet they went so far as to reveal themselves in person? Aren’t the old gods you worship the false ones?”

“How dare you–!”

While Earth’s people were pioneering new worlds and experiencing all manner of events in this way, the Cradle World — which they had come to think of as something like Olympus in Greek mythology — was also developing brilliantly.

This was thanks to industrialization built on receiving a portion of the vast resources supplied through the alien pioneering enterprise.

Naturally, Turan and various other ascendants thoroughly supervised the process, strictly cracking down on all manner of side effects arising from industrialization — from capitalists’ reckless exploitation of workers to collusion with the government.

Environmental pollution was handled by purification magic artifacts.

The explosive growth resulting from this far exceeded what the early empire’s administrators had anticipated.

Thirty-five years after the empire’s founding.

The current world population had already exceeded ten times what it had been when the empire was founded.

“……That concludes the report.”

“Well done.”

“It is an honor, Your Majesty!”

Turan nodded at the young official’s report and mentally retraced what had just been presented.

The Parsha region, the imperial capital of what had once been called the Gray Zone; the Arabion region governed by Meisa; and the Baraha region governed by Solif had become the most developed regions within the empire.

Thanks to their leaders’ active cracking down on corruption and contribution to various large-scale construction projects.

After that, Zahar and Ravitas, and the Samil region previously called the western forested zone, were considered the second tier; Luban, Carmine, and the Hisaril region previously called the Western Wasteland were the slowest to develop.

To address this, Turan appointed his son Ruska as lord of Hisaril.

Thinking that unlike the first-generation lords selected only by innate magical ability or personal connections with Turan, his son, having received thorough leadership education from childhood, would be of greater help.

As expected, Ruska, appointed as lord of Hisaril, before long noticeably elevated the development level of what had been the most underdeveloped region in the empire.

He accomplished this by reorganizing various aspects that Turan had been too focused on other regions to attend to, and by launching several new business plans for revitalization.

A further ten years passed, and when it had been forty-five years since the empire’s founding, people could now no longer remember the days of fearing when they might be killed by a demonic beast, or the time when mage lords ruled.

Disease and disability were things that could be healed by finding a healing mage nearby.

Lifespan was something that could be overcome by studying and training hard and rising to a high position in the empire.

Food, clothing, and shelter were things that could be obtained by faithfully working as a member of society.

Demonic beasts were creatures that occasionally appeared in protected areas, domesticated animals and pets that people could put to useful purposes.

The empire’s young and middle-aged generation, raised in an environment where all their needs were met, cultivated diverse cultures beyond simply surviving.

All manner of arts — film and literature, painting, music — enriched people’s minds as much as their bodies. The volume of information newly created in this way was converted back into Essence, increasing the world’s power.

A golden age reminiscent of Earth’s Belle Epoque, yet with the dark aspects unique to that era — colonial rule, social inequality, racial discrimination — stripped away as much as possible.

As more people were born and lived happily and produced all manner of information, Turan’s power grew even stronger than before.

As time passed and the population continued to grow, cities extended upward into the sky and also downward underground.

The food to sustain the enormous numbers was replaced by the power of the proportionally increased mages, and by advanced science and technology.

And as the population grew and more people dedicated themselves to magical training, new ascendants who could handle four ability types and thus access Essence slowly began to emerge.

The first to reach this level was their son Ruska.

This was thanks to having through spirit magic worked on his spirit form from the beginning, giving him outstanding magical talent, scoring high on the character assessment, and accurately choosing four ability types with potential.

After that, several more ascendants emerged — including Osel, who barely managed to build an aerial paradise by combining advanced science and magic — and since all of them had been drawing presence as lords since the time they were handling three ability types, even after first awakening to their power they were able to handle a fairly large amount of Essence.

Those who were still somewhat lacking were sent by Turan personally to Earth to do touring performances and fill their shortfall in that way.

And as new ascendants thus appeared and a virtuous cycle continued, Turan announced his intention to step down from the Emperor’s seat.

Meisa, hearing this for the first time, showed not surprise but a look that said it was finally happening.

“So you’re finally stepping down.”

“What — you knew I was going to say this?”

“There’s less and less for us to touch these days, and Ruska is more than sufficient to replace you. I actually expected you to step down even sooner.”

Turan stepping down from the Emperor’s seat was for the sake of securing training time.

While the world had grown prosperous through decades of governance and his power had massively increased, he had in practice had no time to practice wielding it.

A few years later, Turan appointed Ruska, who had long established himself as lord of Hisaril and was a supreme mage and ascendant, as the new Emperor.

In keeping with this, Meisa also retired, appointing the most capable administrator in the Arabion region, her Chancellor, as the new lord.

Solif, by contrast, said he still had what it took and there was no suitable successor, and decided to stay in his position a while longer.

With the excuse that Berit still enjoyed wielding power as the lord’s wife and chancellor and disliked stepping down.

Naturally, this declaration caused a great stir across the Cradle World.

“Your Imperial Majesty, please continue to rule over us!”

“We need an eternal father!”

“Great Turan, please do not abandon your sheep!”

Though he had given advance notice of his intention to step down quite some time ago, and had even made clear he would not disappear entirely but remain in a position to check the Emperor, the pushback was enormous.

No — it was not right to call it pushback.

Humans cannot rebel against a god’s decision; they can only weep and appeal.

For the current empire’s commoners, Turan was a being who had dominated the world from before they were born.

Like the sun and moon that had always been there — a figure who existed as a matter of course.

They had grown up listening to the Emperor’s accomplishments from their very bedside, and at school, at the Emperor’s faith’s church, from their superiors in society — they had been raised absorbing something close to brainwashing about how great a being their master was.

That such a figure was stepping down from imperial politics was received as being equivalent to saying the sun and moon would stop rising from tomorrow.

“Please do not step down, Your Majesty!”

At least several hundred thousand, perhaps even over a million people prostrating themselves before the imperial palace of Kalamaf and crying out, their voices rang out resonantly.

From the topmost floor of the imperial palace, Turan looked down at this and let out a sigh.

“I do hope they don’t harm their health doing this.”

“For now the police are controlling it and cracking down on those who self-harm, so it should be alright.”

Even with Meisa comforting him right beside him, his mood didn’t improve. That was because news of those who had taken their own lives upon hearing this news was being reported through newspapers and other media.

It almost made him regret having made the Emperor’s faith that worshipped him as an idol the state religion, for the sake of gathering presence.

But all of this was for the sake of saving the world, so it couldn’t be helped.

Even right now, the fear and despair felt by the empire’s billion-plus citizens was piling up as Turan’s presence.

Having finished the last of the handover, Turan said to Ruska standing before him, as if offering words of blessing.

“Do what you can, and come rest if it gets hard.”

“I will work my hardest.”

Ruska’s eyes as he nodded burned with passion.

He had been a boy of upright character from childhood, and even past sixty he maintained that uprightness still.

In some sense, it could be called a remarkably rare quality.

Of course, for mages as powerful as them, sixty was still firmly in the prime of youth.

* * *

Having stepped down from the Emperor’s seat, Turan first traveled the various corners of the world with Meisa, savoring the empire he had built.

Naturally, since the development process had drawn heavily from Earth’s technology, the culture had been greatly influenced by it as well, but the Cradle World’s arts had developed in their own different direction and had their own enjoyable flavor.

Concealing their identities, they traveled by train and airship rather than spatial movement and visited Hisaril Hill — Turan’s hometown and a holy place — and famous sites across the world, savoring the feeling of living as one of the world’s inhabitants.

Quietly passing along to Ruska the occasional corruption, misconduct, and administrative negligence they spotted along the way was a bonus.

After thus enjoying a short holiday of about a month, they shut themselves at the world’s boundary and began training.

“Shall we begin?”

“What are the conditions?”

“Starting with about this level of power first.”

“Good.”

After confirming the power Meisa showed first, Turan took on only an equivalent amount of Essence and launched his attack.

Flames enough to burn a small nation were met with freezing cold, instantly creating a mountain of ice, and then a potent poison capable of melting the earth down to the mantle vaporized and raged about.

To that were added the lightning and storm that had been his specialty, and thousands of railgun shots — it could truly be called a natural disaster.

If such an exercise of power had occurred in the material world or on Earth, tens of millions of people might easily have died from the shockwaves alone.

All of this was training to efficiently handle the proportionally enormous Essence that had grown so vast.

As the quantity of power grew, imagination became a limiting factor, so there was a need to frequently practice wielding larger amounts.

The two could be called each other’s best sparring partners.

Since Turan handled the most Essence and Meisa was second most capable after him, and in terms of talent and skill for handling Essence both were hard to compare.

Of course, as ruler of the world he gripped the greatest Essence and wielded the largest presence, so his absolute power was far greater.

Since simply overpowering her one-sidedly wouldn’t serve as practice, he simply matched her level of Essence.

Because of this, training sessions quite often ended in Meisa’s victory.

“This round I won, yes?”

“Acknowledged.”

The Golden Eagle form dissolving and Turan thudding into the ground shaking his head in surrender, Meisa sitting astride him smiled with satisfaction.

Those who handle Essence can wield nearly all powers as if they were ability type holders, but to some degree they are influenced by their own foundation.

If both had their Essence nearly depleted, her side — who possessed the Thunder Lord type containing the Historian — had the edge in raw strength.

“Does winning feel that good?”

“Of course. I’ve been practicing whenever I had time even while you were reigning as Emperor — I have to excel at something, don’t I?”

For her, Turan was an ideal partner but also a competitor.

Due to mental factors and a few other elements, the position of group leader had always been his, but when it came to combat techniques she had always worked hard not to fall behind.

Turan watched her still sitting triumphantly atop him and said:

“Then I’ll concede the fight, and let’s move on to the next contest.”

“What do you–wait!”

Flipping his body up with leg strength and reversing their positions to pin her down, Meisa said with an embarrassed expression:

“Is that what you meant?”

“Why, do you dislike it?”

“What if someone comes!”

“If someone comes up I’d sense them in time, so don’t worry. And who would come at this hour? It’s the middle of the night on their side too.”

“Still……”

Turan silenced her complaint with a kiss.

Because he knew that if she truly disliked it, she would have resisted far more fiercely.

Even with an age of nearly a hundred not far off, her bashfulness was no different from when they had first met around twenty, or from that time in the wasteland when they first shared their love.

The kiss back then had tasted strongly of blood, unlike now.

The two thus clashed fiercely, and at times resolved the mental fatigue from it through deep connection, steadily increasing the quantity of Essence they could handle and their techniques.

When Solif and Ruska came to visit, and Osel — who had just barely succeeded in achieving his feat — and others, they welcomed them and imparted whatever useful techniques they had mastered.

As a further ten years or so passed, Turan came to feel that he had to some degree bodily incorporated the growing power.

He could now freely wield several times the power he had once used when manipulating the world’s laws.

Of course, since the Cradle World itself had grown enormously in the meantime, he could no longer revise the laws with that level of power.

As if to give him cause to celebrate the fruit of steadily growing stronger?

Signs finally appeared indicating that an enemy had come from beyond the world.

“Apparently the moon stopped rising some time ago.”

“Every night a pitch-black darkness descends, and even when you light a torch the surroundings don’t brighten.”

News brought by Earth’s people traveling back and forth to Kavlan, one of the eight worlds connected to the Cradle.

Hearing the news conveyed from an ascendant dispatched to Earth for resource delivery, Turan could intuit it.

The greatest enemy that threatened them, for which they had been waiting for decades, had finally drawn close to the vicinity of the Cradle.