Shepherd Wizard (Novel) - Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Reddish-brown dried earth, scattered trees here and there, and yellow dust coloring the distant horizon.
Due to the wasteland spread below the Hisaril hills, no large villages or cities could develop in this area.
There wasn’t enough food supply to support a large population, nor any special products worth buying food from elsewhere.
As a result, Turan had to walk and walk through the wasteland without meeting a single person.
While it was fresh scenery unseen from the hills, that novelty lasted only briefly – after a full day, it became tiresome.
Though he walked somewhat slowly, half enjoying his first journey and half wanting to conserve magic power in case something happened, even that pace was equivalent to an ordinary person running.
If a normal traveler had walked, it would have probably taken three days just to get here.
Yet seeing nothing around, it seemed he had passed several villages without encountering them.
As long as there were no worries about food and drink, he would eventually arrive somewhere by just walking…
“Come.”
When he stretched his hand toward the sky and commanded, a bird flying in the distance came and perched on it.
Commanding animals was something he had done without fail since gaining magic, so he could do it as easily as breathing.
Turan broke the landed bird’s neck with his other hand, then took out a knife from his bag to pluck its feathers and skin it.
Finally, he made a cut in the neck and concentrated, causing blood to pour out.
‘Where…’
A dark red, sticky mass dropped from the flowing blood, and clear water separated and rose up.
Magic to extract drinkable water from blood.
One of the techniques learned from Keorn, it was hundreds of times more efficient than creating water from empty air.
After filling his leather water skin and eating the roasted bird meat with sheep milk cheese he had, his meal was complete.
How long had he walked after eating?
Around when the sun was rising to its zenith, he saw people coming down a low hill opposite him.
Six people in total.
All were men wearing dust-covered cloaks typical of travelers and carrying short swords that seemed to be for self-defense.
Behind them was a large cart covered with cloth – they appeared to be traveling merchants who went around villages.
Though he had never met them directly, he had heard stories about such people occasionally visiting the village below the hills.
When Turan blocked their path, a middle-aged man who seemed to be the leader asked with a wary expression.
“Who are you to block our path?”
“I’m a lone traveler. Could you tell me if there’s a city nearby?”
At this polite question, the merchant-looking men tilted their heads and looked at each other.
Then, Turan noticed several of them looking at him with sharp gazes.
Eyes mixed with desire rather than wariness, like hunters looking at prey…
The leader spoke in a much ruder tone than before.
“Follow the path we came from and you’ll reach a city called Murei. If you’re not stupid, you can easily find it by following the wheel tracks.”
At the somewhat unpleasant tone, Turan slightly frowned while nodding.
He didn’t want to argue about why they were speaking that way.
After all, he was the one who suddenly blocked their path to ask questions, and they had given him the information he wanted.
“Thank you.”
After bowing his head in greeting and trying to move along the wheel tracks as they said, one of the merchants blocked his path.
A vile smile was plastered on his face as he looked this way.
“Wait. If you receive something, you should give something. Are you trying to run away after just taking information?”
“First open that bag. Looks quite full.”
The merchants had suddenly surrounded Turan.
Some had even drawn their swords, seeming ready to cut his throat the moment he resisted.
“Bandits?”
“Let’s call it a side job. Just drop the bag and get lost. We’ll spare your clothes. We don’t particularly enjoy taking lives.”
Turan’s developed sense of smell sometimes detected even emotions as scents.
Though not always detectable, it worked for nearby targets and particularly intense emotions.
And now, the bandits surrounding him gave off the scent of predators just before tearing into their prey.
Their words about letting him go were lies – they probably just wanted him to remove the bag himself to keep the contents from getting bloodied.
“Good, I’ll practice with you guys.”
“What?”
Turan spread his palm wide and swept it horizontally while imagining the small wind he created growing hundreds of times stronger.
The strengthened gale, consuming magic power, instantly swept up and threw all six bandits.
“Aaaaah-!”
Creating wind directly with hand movements and amplifying it clearly consumed much less magic power than just making wind.
This too was one of the techniques learned from Keorn, like extracting water from blood.
Looking at the thrown bandits, one seemed to have broken his neck in the fall and couldn’t get up, while another was limping with what appeared to be a broken leg before collapsing.
Turan used a second magic against the four bandits who were struggling to stand up covered in dirt.
It started with untying the water skin at his waist.
Water that seeped out from the opening transformed into sharp ice needles emanating heat, then flew following Turan’s gesture and embedded in one bandit’s abdomen.
This was supposedly magic useful when there was plenty of water around?
“Aaaaargh!”
“I’m sorry! Please forgive me!”
While the one with the broken leg threw away his sword and begged and screamed, Turan felt dissatisfied with the magic he had just used.
The flying speed, power, and accuracy were all ridiculously inferior compared to stone throwing.
Well, stone throwing was a skill he had honed his entire life, so naturally there would be a difference from normal shooting.
As a test, after spinning the second ice needle around a couple times before shooting, it flew at several times the previous speed and pierced through the neck of a bandit who was running away in the distance.
“Die-!”
At that moment, two bandits who had stealthily approached charged at Turan with battle cries.
Turan was about to kick them away but changed his mind and stomped the ground hard.
Instantly, several large earth spikes rose from the reddish-brown wasteland, piercing through various parts of the charging men’s bodies.
This was a technique that could only be used on earthen ground, raising and transforming the earth into weapons.
“Kuhek…”
Though they were weak humans who could be killed with just a word to die, getting some rough combat experience like this gave him a sense of how to fight in the future.
He also got a feel for which techniques learned over the past three days were practical in combat and suited his aptitude.
Since the one stabbed in the stomach would die soon anyway, Turan slowly walked toward the last survivor with the broken leg.
Keorn had taught never to show mercy to roadside bandits like these.
If you spare even one out of pity, they’ll repay it by harming ten innocent people someday.
Turan intended to thoroughly follow that teaching.
“Aah…”
Just as he reached out toward the man who was trembling and wetting himself, instead of finishing him off, Turan voiced a sudden question.
“Let me ask one thing.”
“P-please ask! Magic sir! I’ll answer anything!”
Thinking a possibility of salvation had opened, the bandit bowed his head, ignoring even the pain of his broken leg.
“Why attack me so recklessly? A lone traveler could be a magician like this?”
If Turan were a bandit, he would never attack someone like himself.
Beyond basic morality of not harming those who don’t harm you, wouldn’t it be natural to think someone traveling alone in such wasteland might have something up their sleeve?
It’s not like they had something to rely on either.
After hesitating briefly at the question, the bandit answered.
“W-well, because you bowed your head, sir magician…”
“What?”
“When the boss spoke rudely but you still bowed and greeted us, we naturally thought you were an ordinary person.”
So the rude tone had been a kind of test.
When Turan casually greeted them without bothering to argue, they judged him as weak and tried to satisfy their desires.
“Thank you. I learned something good.”
That showing weakness in unpopulated places provokes others.
As payment for this good lesson, Turan placed his finger on the forehead of the last survivor and commanded death.
At least he could die without pain.
* * *
The cart the bandits had been pulling was full of various daily necessities difficult to make in rural areas, but judging from their unused condition, they didn’t seem to be stolen or plundered.
The guess that they were originally merchants wasn’t completely wrong.
Since it would be troublesome to take everything, Turan only took money from their possessions before abandoning the cart and following the wheel tracks.
Perhaps because it was the direction of the city, as he walked, more weeds grew on the reddish-brown ground and the number of trees increased noticeably.
Since the destination was clear now, he ran lightly at several times his previous speed, allowing him to reach the city called Murei that the bandit leader had mentioned by sunset.
“Wow…”
Turan exclaimed at the sight of the city spread below a gentle hill.
Under the setting sun, over a hundred people were visible walking the streets or working.
Yet the village below Hisaril hills had only thirty or forty residents in total.
This was the first time since his birth that he had seen so many people together.
Entering deeper, Turan walked slowly through the crowds of people, taking in the city he was seeing for the first time.
The buildings made of dark brown bricks were all similar in shape and two to three stories tall, sometimes with what looked like stalls set up in front, perhaps for selling goods.
The passing people seemed uninterested in each other, neither speaking nor greeting when they met.
Turan quietly observed them before choosing the most leisurely-looking fruit vendor to speak to.
“Excuse me.”
“Hm? A customer?”
“No, I was wondering if you could tell me where to find an ‘inn’-”
Though he knew about places for travelers to stay from what Keorn had taught him.
Supposedly every city had them.
However, the fruit vendor snorted and shook his head without even listening to Turan’s full question.
“If you’re not buying fruit, get lost!”
Turan’s face hardened briefly at this cold attitude.
Should he get angry here to avoid being looked down on?
But perhaps in the city, it was an unwritten rule that you had to buy fruit to ask questions.
After considering briefly, Turan nodded and took out his purse.
“Alright. How much is this?”
“Apples are 2 derpit each. Since you seem to be from outside, other coins of similar size are fine too.”
When he asked what a derpit was, it seemed to be the copper currency used in this city.
Since he had some similar ones among the money taken from the bandits, Turan used these to buy fruit.
Though it was his first time seeing this fruit called an apple, it looked quite unripe, being withered and not smelling very good.
“Go straight down that road and turn left, you’ll see an inn with a blue roof and a beer mug painted on it.”
Having finally learned the inn’s location, Turan took a bite of the apple while walking but threw it away on the street.
It tasted so terribly sour and astringent that he suspected it might be poisoned.
Fortunately the vendor hadn’t lied about the inn’s location – if he had, Turan had planned to go back and give him a taste of sharp magic – as the inn appeared where indicated.
When he entered, a young serving girl approached Turan.
“Oh my, what a handsome brother! Are you a guest?”
“Mm.”
Turan simply nodded in agreement.
He was internally flustered by the woman’s loose clothing that was practically see-through.
Though he had heard such places had servers who sometimes also worked as prostitutes – there was clearly a difference between just hearing about it and seeing it directly.
“How much per day?”
“16 derpit. 1 rum is fine too. If you have other money, you’ll need to ask the owner.”
When he asked what a rum was, it seemed to mean silver coins.
When he held out the money, the serving girl who took it smiled broadly while subtly rubbing her body against Turan’s shoulder.
“It’ll be too cold sleeping alone in the room, shall I warm it up for you?”
“No thanks.”
Keorn had repeatedly warned against carelessly getting involved with inn serving girls and prostitutes.
Most women who did such work were diseased, and while strong knights and nobles had excellent disease resistance so it wasn’t a problem for them, they would spread it when being intimate with other women later.
“Rather, there’s something I’d like to ask.”
What Turan wanted to ask was whether there were any bounty-marked masu near the city.
Not only could he grow by killing masu and absorbing magic power, but he could earn money as a bonus.
But instead of answering Turan’s question, the serving girl pointed to a large barrel of alcohol placed nearby.
The second realization gained after coming down from the hills was that in the city, no question was free.