Shepherd Wizard (Novel) - Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Discord
The noisy plains fell silent the moment Badal, the head of the Arabion family, spoke.
No matter how enraged they were, it was difficult for anyone to raise their voice recklessly before this formidable mage.
[“Regarding this matter, I entrust all authority to Lin Arabion, my dear sixth cousin and the hero who led the Dakan battle to victory in the past. Please regard his words as my own.”]
Having said that, Badal closed his eyes and stepped back a few paces, his demeanor resembling that of an exhausted old man.
The vassals didn’t protest the fact that he had delegated authority to a proxy despite appearing in person for such a crucial situation.
After all, facing the head directly would have forced them into a submissive dialogue, so this was to their advantage. More importantly, Badal’s face genuinely looked so weary as he retreated.
Shortly after, Lin, the elder of Arabion whom Badal had introduced, took his place.
“Now, everyone, listen. The documents that have been circulating…”
What followed was a truly deplorable claim: that a Zahar noble had recently infiltrated the main family’s inner sanctum, stolen several confidential documents, and forged them.
Aside from the fact that this Zahar noble wasn’t actually affiliated with the Zahar family, it was a claim somewhat close to the truth. Naturally, though, it didn’t resonate with the vassal families.
“Since when has Arabion’s stronghold been so lax? What about the Fortress of Light?”
“The circumstances in those documents align perfectly with my brother’s death! We’ve already captured and interrogated someone who claimed to have seen a beast here! Forgery, my foot!”
“Stop spouting nonsense!”
Unlike the head, perhaps the elder seemed more approachable, as the heads of the vassal families raised their voices one after another to refute the claim.
Taking advantage of the commotion, Turan called out to Asiz beside him.
“Asiz.”
“Yeah? What?”
“That person over there—do you happen to know what bloodline they’re from?”
Turan was pointing to a sturdy, middle-aged woman standing among the young nobles of the frost bloodline.
He singled her out because the symbol within her—a clenched fist—was identical to the one he’d just seen in Badal.
“Hmm… probably someone who married into that family, like Uncle Haram. I’d guess she’s specialized in close combat?”
“Can you find out for sure?”
“Is it important?”
“Extremely.”
“Give me a sec.”
Asiz didn’t press further and immediately approached them to strike up a conversation.
The frost bloodline nobles initially seemed annoyed by the sudden interruption during their serious discussion, but soon enough, they warmed to Asiz’s charm, their faces breaking into smiles.
It took him less than three minutes to return with an answer.
“She’s from the history bloodline, she said. But why this all of a sudden?”
Turan started to reply but glanced at Badal, standing some distance away, and closed his mouth.
Arabion’s bloodline ability was to read the flow of the wind, not enhanced hearing… yet somehow, he felt an unease that someone like Badal might dominate all the winds around here to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“It’s too open here. I’ll tell you later.”
“Back home?”
“Yeah.”
Placating Asiz, Turan recalled the bloodline of Badal, the Arabion head, from moments ago.
A lightning-infused cloud symbolizing the storm bloodline, and a clenched fist.
In other words, he possessed three bloodline abilities: wind, lightning, and strength.
‘And yet Badal’s parents were nobles of the Arabion and Karmain bloodlines.’
Of course, the family tree he’d seen in the study didn’t specify the bloodlines of Badal’s grandparents’ generation, so it was possible there had been some atavistic inheritance from further up. Still, Turan inwardly suspected this history bloodline was the result of something artificially engineered.
After all, both Solif and Meisa only had two bloodlines each.
Perhaps the “mind-processing” they performed was a prerequisite for granting new bloodline abilities.
Lost in thought for a while, he suddenly heard Berk family head Midella shouting shrilly from a distance.
“I don’t want to waste more words! Punish those who tormented Lady Meisa—my niece—appropriately! How cruelly must they have treated her for the heir of a great family to flee her own house!?”
Solif flinched beside him as the surrounding vassals chimed in with a resounding “Hear, hear!”
The documents detailing the Arabion nobles’ corruption were filled with accounts of disadvantages imposed on the vassal families gathered here—those who hadn’t colluded with them. But the lion’s share concerned the mistreatment of Meisa.
It was natural for family matters to be handled internally, but hadn’t they gone too far?
Moreover, many of those present were distant relatives of Midella—and by extension, of Meisa.
The safety of the next head of a great family was, after all, a significant matter for the vassal families under their protection.
The elder hesitated for a moment before offering an unexpected explanation.
“Those documents claim Meisa… I mean, Lady Meisa fled on her own, but that’s not true. Lady Meisa was kidnapped while out for a walk outside the city—by Zahar scum.”
“What?”
“What kind of ridiculous nonsense is this now…?”
“Are we to believe Arabion is full of fools who didn’t notice dozens of Zahar nobles storming in? Or are you saying the Zahar head himself came to the Dakein Plains?”
At that last remark, the nobles instinctively turned to Badal Arabion.
If Zahar—the murderers of the Enril Desert—had truly come, they’d need the mighty head’s power to face them.
But Badal remained silent, merely closing his wrinkled eyes.
The elder cleared his throat loudly to regain attention and continued.
“We’re currently investigating who was behind the kidnapping, but with you all distrusting us and this division persisting, we can’t make proper progress. So please, cooperate. If we Arabions unite as one, how could those filthy desert hounds dare to challenge the descendants of the Thunder Lord?”
It seemed Arabion’s main family had decided to pin this entire incident on the Zahar nobles.
After all, nothing patched internal cracks like emphasizing an external enemy.
Plus, considering their collusion with Zahar, even in the worst-case scenario, they could stage a scripted skirmish.
“Is all of this really Zahar’s scheme?”
“If that’s true, isn’t that a problem in itself? It means Arabion couldn’t respond to their tricks at all…”
“Now that you mention it, that’s a fair point.”
But there was something the elder hadn’t anticipated: the vassal families interpreted this claim as a sign of Arabion’s leadership failure.
Normally, they wouldn’t dare say such things in front of the mighty head, but with him now frail and ailing, the dynamic had shifted.
As the murmurings spread, a flicker of realization crossed the elder’s face.
“W-Wait a moment…”
“Step back for now, Lin.”
The elder, about to speak, quickly retreated at the sound of a weathered voice stopping him.
Badal, who had been silently closing his eyes, stepped forward.
As the aged head took the lead again, the vassals halted their complaints and turned their attention to him.
“As I said earlier, this matter appears to involve Zahar nobles. However, some of the disadvantages imposed on the vassals are undoubtedly the responsibility of our kin. To address this, I’ll form an investigation team that includes some of you to look into it.”
Unlike before, he didn’t amplify his voice with wind magic, yet it carried with far more vigor and clarity, reaching even those standing some distance away.
That wasn’t the only change.
Clouds gathered in the previously clear sky, and thunder rumbled—a display of power reminiscent of the black elf subjugation force’s departure long ago.
Witnessing a glimpse of that immense strength, the vassals hesitated and nodded.
“I-If the head is willing to concede that much…”
“That’s satisfactory then.”
Had he simply flexed his power and intimidated them outright, their pride would have kept them from yielding. But Badal, while displaying his strength, showed respect by proposing a solution and offering them an out.
Thus, though the vassals felt somewhat uneasy, they couldn’t openly push back further.
“Hey, is this okay? The vibe’s a bit off,” Solif whispered, glancing at Turan.
But Turan couldn’t answer.
He’d just intuited a change within Badal, who now appeared vigorous unlike moments ago.
‘That’s…’
The moment Badal stepped forward and unleashed his magic, something emerged between the previously separate lightning cloud and fist symbols.
A hammer and anvil—the same symbols of the enchanter bloodline as those of the Berk family nearby.
The clenched fist raised the hammer and struck the anvil with a resounding clang, sparking a whirlwind of lightning and wind within Badal’s being.
Turan could easily guess what it signified.
‘Thunder Lord…’
A figure wielding a massive hammer, commanding wind and lightning.
What was happening in Badal’s body was a perfect embodiment of the great Freya divine tribe—the Thunder Lord—whom Arabion revered as their ancestor.
—
After Badal’s brief show of force and subsequent return to his feeble old man persona, the vassal delegation debated with the elders for hours before reaching a reasonable compromise.
As the head had promised, they temporarily stripped power from Kardram and the middle-aged faction of nobles, forming a strict investigation team that included vassal nobles. They also secured a pledge that no disadvantages would be imposed using this gathering or display of force as a pretext.
In Turan’s view, this was the most realistic and favorable outcome possible.
Since Arabion wasn’t going to be uprooted entirely, neutralizing the middle-aged faction halfway and having the vassals’ demands met meant the Berk family was no longer in immediate danger.
By contrast, the faces of the Berk family nobles returning to Zabilin weren’t so bright.
Their relative and the next Arabion head, Meisa, had either fled or gone missing, and they’d just confronted their liege family head-on.
Though they’d agreed to let it slide, it was hard to feel at ease knowing they’d likely fallen out of favor with their superiors.
Back at the Berk estate, Turan refrained from discussing the Thunder Lord’s existence with Solif and Asiz.
Having confirmed the opponent could wield divine power, he was reluctant to elaborate on it in such close proximity.
Fortunately, both accepted his promise to explain later when it was safer.
A few days later, as expected, Arabion’s investigation team came for Turan.
“Wandering noble of the barrier mage bloodline, Turan. Correct?”
“Yes.”
One of Meisa’s few outsider friends, he’d visited nearby and even sent a letter a few weeks before the incident.
Add to that his exceptional magic power and skill.
Laid out like this, he was undeniably a suspicious figure.
Officially, since it was deemed Zahar’s doing, they only suspected him as a potential collaborator.
Of course, their investigation soon hit a wall.
“He rode that black eagle’s swing and flew through the sky?”
“Yes, I saw it myself.”
“Even a week ago?”
“That’s right.”
Not only had townsfolk encountered Solif pretending to be Turan, but the estate’s servants also testified to seeing Turan daily—thanks to Asiz laying the groundwork.
Sure, if they’d resorted to torture, some might have cracked, but was Arabion in a position to dare that now?
They even checked how strong and fast Turan’s black eagle, Bije, was, but the clever bird feigned weakness in front of the investigators, showing less than a tenth of its usual strength.
“Bije, faster! Fly as fast as you can!” Turan barked sharply from the swing.
Yet the investigators could only conclude that the struggling, whimpering Bije wasn’t particularly useful for an escape.
Though magical beasts were smarter than ordinary animals, they could hardly suspect it was perfectly coordinating with its master to defy orders.
Finally, after verifying his status as a barrier mage bloodline noble, the investigators acknowledged Turan’s innocence and withdrew.
One more realization came from the process…
‘As I thought, their connection to Zahar isn’t as strong as I assumed.’
If Arabion’s middle-aged faction had a deep bond with Zahar, someone among them should have recognized Turan’s face or a portrait, linking it to his father or grandfather.
That they didn’t suggested either they didn’t have access to Zahar nobles’ faces or, even if they’d met, it wasn’t enough to make them familiar.
He’d have liked to infiltrate their main house again for reconnaissance, but that would be difficult a second time.
Given his last stunt, they’d likely be aware of magic devices that could disguise faces and voices.
After staying another month or so, Turan finally informed Midella of his intent to leave the family.
Considering he’d stayed under the pretext of meeting Meisa, it was overdue, and Midella expressed her gratitude.
She knew Turan had remained to bolster the family’s numbers against Arabion’s pressure.
“Shall we get going?”
“I never wanted to ride this damn swing again.”
Grumbling about being sick of the swing after days of riding it, Solif joined Turan as they left the Berk estate at midnight.
Now, Bije could fly at altitudes where it was a mere speck from the ground, ensuring their movements wouldn’t be tracked.
Passing the Dakein Plains, the woodlands being rebuilt by settlers, the wilderness, and finally reaching the Shiraf wetlands.
Despite the swing being sturdier and heavier than before, they reached the hot spring region in just three or four days of flight.
“…Turan?”
“Long time no see, Meisa.”
Seeing Meisa after a couple of months, she was tending to a baby monkey. Her face and body still lacked flesh, suggesting she’d failed to eat on her own.
Given how quickly she’d gained weight when food was forcibly fed into her stomach, she wouldn’t be this thin if she’d eaten even a little.
“How’s life here been?”
“Fine. Aikul’s been good to me.”
Aikul, the monkey king and ruler of the hot spring region, let out a proud snort at Meisa’s words.
Unlike his rough attitude toward Turan in the past, he treated Meisa gently—perhaps he simply liked women.
“What are you glaring at, punk?” he growled at Solif, reinforcing that suspicion.
After a brief exchange of greetings, Meisa asked with a slightly anxious expression,
“What happened to the Berk family? How’s my aunt?”
Her greatest worry during her month here must have been their safety.
While Turan and Solif, top-tier nobles, could fend for themselves, the Berk family was relatively weak and had much to protect.
Her silence about her own mistreatment stemmed from fear that the Berk family would be crushed under Arabion’s influence.
Turan carefully explained everything that had happened in the Dakeine Plains since her departure.
“So, for now, they’re safe. At least as long as tensions with Zahar persist outwardly.”
“That’s a relief…”
A bright smile spread across Meisa’s face after hearing the explanation.
It seemed the past month, half-confined in this hot spring region, had been filled with worry eating away at her.
Nodding in agreement that it was good news, she suddenly threw her arms around Turan.
Though she’d gained a bit of weight, her still-slim frame barely registered any heft.
“Last time, my mind was too scrambled… After coming here, I realized I hadn’t said this. Thank you, really, truly thank you for pulling me out of that hell.”
Unsure how to respond, Turan patted her back a few times.