Shepherd Wizard (Novel) - Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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After leaving Kalamaf city, Turan flew using the old imperial road leading west as a guide.
Not long after, he saw the building where Arabion’s army had been stationed during the battle with the dark elves.
‘They didn’t destroy that one.’
Given the number of magicians, it wouldn’t have been difficult, but they probably didn’t see the need for such effort.
Perhaps it would serve as a rest stop for travelers passing between the Grey Zone and mid-west region from now on?
Though being a building hastily constructed with magic, it would likely collapse before then.
Passing this and continuing westward, the grey rocky mountains ended, revealing land where forests and plains harmoniously blended.
This was the area commonly called the mid-western forest region, where the largest and highest quality trees in the west grew.
It was near a city on the western side of this region where Turan had previously met Asiz.
‘There’s literally no living person here.’
Even when spreading detection magic for humans across several dozen kilometers, nothing was caught.
The scattered cities and villages visible on the ground were all in ruins.
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say death had descended upon this entire land.
‘Were the dark elves truly wolves incapable of coexisting with humans?’
According to interrogation of captured dark elves, the reason for this great invasion was revenge for the death of the Lich King’s most beloved youngest daughter and son-in-law while they were sightseeing on the surface.
Since humans ruled this land, it was obviously humans’ doing, so they sought revenge by killing their fellow beings.
Though it seemed an absurd reason for countless humans and dark elves to die, in their society, the royal family’s orders regarding souls were absolute law, so it couldn’t be helped.
In that aspect, it was unpleasantly similar to human society where magicians’ orders were absolute.
‘That daughter and son-in-law must have been those two trying to kill Asiz.’
Turan thought there was about a fifty-fifty chance this fact was known within Arabion.
It would depend on how well House Berk had kept it secret.
Of course, he didn’t feel particularly guilty or ashamed about it.
After all, letting Asiz die there and allowing those two dark elves to hunt humans for sport wouldn’t have been right.
Though perhaps the people who died here might think differently…
‘May you rest peacefully in the celestial palace.’
Turan prayed for those people on the ground.
Whether the gods truly existed in the celestial palace or whether they would accept human souls was now uncertain, but…
If not, if the dead had nowhere to rest, that would be too miserable.
* * *
Unlike when he flew over the Enril Desert in the past, Turan had no reason to hurry, so he traveled leisurely while letting Bije rest adequately.
Flying only during daytime when visibility was clear and the sun made it warm.
When she got tired, he would walk with her at his side, and at night, they would rest in some empty village.
One major change from his previous travels was meals.
Thanks to the large-capacity pouch received from Meisa containing various dried foods, cooking utensils, and spices, he could now make decent meals even on the road.
“Is it tasty, Bije?”
[Too salty!]… “Stop complaining and eat. It’s not like you’re doing the cooking.”
[I could cook better with my feet!]
They traveled smoothly and safely, occasionally arguing with Bije who claimed she could do better than Turan even cooking with her feet.
On the fourth day of traveling like this…
Turan realized this was near the forest where he had met Asiz in the past.
Going a bit further, he saw Maderi city, where he had warned about the hidden dark elf city.
Naturally, this place too had been invaded and lay in ruins.
“I wonder if anything would have changed if I had warned them more strongly…”
Bije, who was beside him, tilted her head wondering what he meant, but Turan just smiled and brushed it off.
Certainly, even if he had insisted more strongly then, nothing would have changed.
The dark elves’ offensive had been faster and more powerful than anyone could have predicted.
If the nobles of this region had gathered to respond, things might have been different, but who could have known before being directly attacked?
Passing Maderi and flying for another day…
As the western forest region gradually ended and somewhat uneven hills spread out, people began appearing again.
They had arrived at the western wilderness region which Turan had once considered incredibly prosperous, but which was actually considered the frontier when viewing the world as a whole.
After quickly passing several cities he had previously skipped as bothersome, the sight of Olem city appeared before long.
‘…Was this place always this small?’
Surely when he saw it in the past, it had seemed like the place with the most people gathered in the world.
Well, at that time, Turan had only seen small villages with dozens of people and small cities with a thousand people at most.
Then suddenly seeing a city with tens of thousands of people, of course it would have seemed huge.
But looking at it now, Olem city was at most similar in size to Kalamaf or slightly larger.
To Turan, who had even ruled as the savior and master of a city that size, this city now looked infinitely small.
“Good work, Bije. Want to rest here while I make a quick visit?”
[Won’t take long?]
“It won’t. Um, probably. If nothing happens.”
Perhaps remembering times when he had said this but taken long after all, Bije tilted her head suspiciously before writing that he should make a delicious meal later, then flew off.
Turan lightly waved goodbye before entering Olem city.
‘Ah, it’s that police officer from back then.’
The one who had told Turan to wash because he was dirty was guarding the east gate.
Well, it hadn’t been years since he’d last come, so how much could people have changed in that time?
Since he was using concealment magic, the officer didn’t notice even as Turan openly passed in front of him.
Entering the gates without being detected by anyone, Turan headed straight for the library visible in the distance.
Using concealment ability actively like this made him newly realize just how unfair this power was.
Probably even if he were to break into the central mansion now and slaughter the Baltas family in this state, they wouldn’t even be able to resist.
But walking through the city while concealed, he somehow felt the atmosphere was a bit unsettled.
‘Did another monster appear?’
Turan briefly considered dropping his concealment to ask someone, but continued approaching the library instead.
It would be annoying if someone recognized him… Passing the knight standing guard at the front as always, Turan grabbed the lock securing the library door.
After blowing wind into the keyhole a few times to understand the internal structure, he used telekinetic magic to precisely align the internal cylinder and unlock it.
‘Success.’
Originally, even using telekinetic magic, without knowing the internal structure it would be impossible to unlock delicately – at most you could crush the insides.
But using the storm bloodline’s power, it was possible to unlock by blowing in wind and sensing its flow.
This was one of the simple tricks Turan had learned while spending time in Kalamaf.
Glancing back, the knight was still watching forward, unaware of anything.
Despite having keen senses nearly matching nobles, he hadn’t noticed the sound from just now.
The power to make people unconsciously fail to recognize the natural reactions that occur when the caster performs certain actions.
This was why Zahar’s concealment ability was special.
Just as footprints clearly appearing in the desert would be unconsciously overlooked, even though the lock made a sound, it wasn’t connected to sensing someone’s presence.
Probably until there was direct contact or an attack flying toward them, they wouldn’t notice.
Turan entered the library, closed the door, and looked back.
The first things catching his eye were the familiar round walls and spiral staircase he had seen several times before.
In front was a middle-aged man, the librarian, sitting at a desk.
“Elder?”
He called out just in case, but the librarian seemed unable to detect him.
Perhaps even being a spirit created by gods wasn’t enough to see through Zahar’s concealment.
Since his mana was rapidly decreasing due to the bright magical lights on the ceiling, Turan dropped his concealment and approached him.
“It’s been a while, Elder Librarian.”
But for some reason, the librarian remained sitting blankly at his desk, not responding to Turan.
He sat like a well-made doll, not even blinking.
“…Elder?”
Turan poked the librarian’s shoulder, but his finger passed through as if nothing was there.
Come to think of it, hadn’t he already experienced being unable to make direct contact last time?
In his surprise, he hadn’t thought that far initially.
‘Could it be because I didn’t come with proper entry permission?’
Since the head of House Baltas was technically the owner of this city and library, perhaps one needed his permission to be recognized for entry.
As Turan’s expression grew serious, suddenly the librarian whipped his head around and spoke.
“Well, was that convincing?”
“…Yes.”
Turan let out a surprised laugh, and the librarian also smiled mischievously.
He had known this person, or rather this spirit, was like this since their first meeting, but to think he would play another trick.
“You really surprised me.”
“Just seeing your face made it worth trying. So, you’ve returned quite quickly? Given how confidently you set out, I thought it would take at least ten years.”
“I thought so too. But for just a brief visit, I saw and heard too many things.”
From the secret of his birth to secrets about gods and bloodlines, and mysterious plots, there was so much he wanted to ask about.
Turan decided to start with what seemed simplest to confirm… “Could you check my bloodline again?”
“That’s not difficult.”
As before, the librarian immediately stuck his finger into Turan’s body.
“Pursuer, Hunter, and Grand Technician.”
Grand Technician probably referred specifically to the wind-controlling power within the storm bloodline.
It seemed this had been absorbed into Arabion’s bloodline long ago and forgotten after being unified under the name storm bloodline.
“And one still hasn’t awakened. To inherit two types from each side, you really are incredibly lucky.”
As he had somewhat expected, the lightning-controlling bloodline ability remained dormant.
Satisfied with learning this fact, Turan brought up another question he was curious about.
“Did all members of the Frea divine clan have four bloodlines, or what you call types?”
“Hmm? Yes, that’s right. You certainly haven’t been idle. Where did you hear such stories? Are there other spirits remaining besides me?”
“I’m not sure if it was a spirit, but I probably saw something similar.”
Turan explained to the librarian exactly what he had seen.
From the ruins called the gods’ tomb far in the Enril Desert and the labyrinth sleeping beneath it, to the monsters the gods had created by reshaping giants and the process of turning magicians into gods.
Finally, when he showed the experiment journal left by the unknown creator of the labyrinth, the librarian groaned softly while twirling his beard.
“Hmm, an underground labyrinth and experiments to create gods… Who could have done such things?”
“Was it the lame goddess after all?”
“Probably not. Wait, let me search through some books from the past.”
The librarian seemed to be thinking about something as he raised his eyeballs slightly, then began rolling them around.
Not just up and down or side to side as people usually do, but literally spinning them continuously in one direction.
After rolling his eyes bizarrely like this for several minutes, the librarian suddenly snapped his fingers, and a semi-transparent book appeared before Turan.
“Read this. It’s one of the documents lost after the fall of what you call the ancient empire. The writing and handwriting are exactly the same.”
This ability to manifest lost books was something he hadn’t shown before.
Turan tried to turn the pages but, like the librarian’s body, this too couldn’t be touched.
Instead, pressing strange symbols on the left and right would turn the pages one by one.
‘This handwriting…’
As the librarian said, it was exactly the same handwriting as that of the labyrinth’s master who had written about the night hunters.
It seemed to be like a diary, but whoever owned it hadn’t been very enthusiastic about writing, as there wasn’t much content on each page.
[That pig bastard Otas is truly an idiot.
Even when I tell him that leaving a race capable of scientific thinking alone will surely become a threat to our descendants in the future, and that we should exterminate them in advance, he won’t listen because it’s troublesome.
If I didn’t need tracking abilities, I wouldn’t have had to ask that bastard for help.
Let him spend his whole life whoring there…]
Though unsure who this person Otas was, perhaps a god, there was clear animosity toward him.
The next page contained an answer to the complaint from just before.
[I’ve thought of a way to exterminate those steampunk rat bastards even without Otas’s help.
We’ll modify the ones we’ve captured.
Make it so their descendant generations inevitably have low intelligence and superior physical abilities, excessive violence… It would be good to maintain constant heat and enhance pheromone tracking abilities.
If we release and let such specimens breed en masse in what’s essentially an apocalyptic situation, probably after dozens of generations the entire race will become idiots.
Since their defense systems won’t work against breeding-capable members of their own race.
At least our distant descendants won’t be hunted by rats in steam airships.]
The passages treating an entire race like personal toys were chilling even considering the targets weren’t human.
Turan asked the librarian beside him about one word he didn’t understand.
“Do you know what steampunk means?”
“Well.”
The librarian answered only that with an ambiguous attitude that made it unclear whether he knew or not.
After quietly reviewing the two diary entries, Turan realized those “steampunk rat bastards” referred to dwarves.
Degrading intelligence while maximizing physical abilities – it perfectly matched their description.
Moreover, the fact that ancient dwarven relics used steam power also aligned with the mention of steam airships.
‘…As I suspected, this god had the ability to manipulate life.’
However, neither the Frea divine clan members Turan knew of, nor the bloodline abilities passed down to their descendants, included such powers.
It must have been either a god from the south or east he hadn’t visited, or perhaps a forgotten god who left no descendants and thus wasn’t recorded in scripture.
Turning the page further, this time the content was completely different.
[The humans here are fundamentally flawed.
Not simply because they’ve lived as slaves to other races for so long, but because they completely lack the ability to explore new phenomena.
That’s why they haven’t progressed a single step in hundreds of years, only using what we provide.
Should this be considered a problem of brain structure?
Is it possible to artificially inject “creativity” into humans?
And in that process, can we continue to control them?]
Though previously seeming to worry about their descendants, in this entry they showed an attitude of wanting to freely modify and control humans.
Had something changed in their mind during the time between the previous entries and this one?
Feeling strangely chilled, Turan turned to the next page only to realize it was the last.
[Having a lifespan is absurd
There must be some way
What could it be???
That previous transformation experiment
If I use that as a vessel and transfer the body first]