Shepherd Wizard (Novel) - Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Discord
After flipping through a few books on the first floor and waiting another ten minutes or so, Turan asked the two others to step outside the library for a bit.
He wondered if the librarian’s absence might be due to their presence.
However, even after sending them out, the librarian didn’t appear.
Thinking perhaps even he himself could no longer see the librarian, Turan requested that a book or two be lightly moved if anyone was there, but there was no response.
In other words, the librarian had either vanished from the library or was in a state where they could no longer exert influence or communicate.
The three of them each took a chair on the library’s first floor and pondered the reason.
“Why could that be?”
“Well… the only major event around here recently would be the war, but that shouldn’t have affected it.”
The Orem Library had stood for thousands of years. How many wars had occurred nearby, and how many times had its masters changed?
If something like that could disrupt a spirit’s existence, it would’ve disappeared long ago.
“Maybe because we mentioned something about gods? Like blasphemy or something?”
“It’s true that it’s a being created by a god, so that could be it… But there was no mention of it disappearing when I left last time.”
Though it wasn’t certain since he had rushed out in a panic after realizing Bije had been taken, Turan recalled the librarian casually agreeing when he said he’d return.
If so, should they assume this sudden disappearance stemmed from an event even the librarian hadn’t foreseen?
“What if someone destroyed or captured it?”
“Then staying here would be dangerous. If the librarian could interact with us, it’d mean they’re a mage with at least three, maybe even four or more bloodline abilities…”
The former would indicate a mage with potential comparable to a great family’s head, while the latter would almost certainly mean something possessed by a divine entity.
Either way, they weren’t opponents Turan’s group could face head-on.
“But someone with that kind of power would usually be detected first, so there’s no need to worry.”
Turan had grown accustomed to the Imitator holy relic’s senses, which dulled to the point of ignoring ordinary humans passing by, but it remained keenly attuned to the movements of powerful mages.
In other words, even without focusing, he could sense a family-head-level mage approaching within a few hundred meters.
While reassuring Meisa, Turan turned to Solif, who’d been silent for a while, upon hearing the sound of pages turning nearby.
Solif was now intently reading a book he’d pulled from a nearby shelf.
“What are you looking at?”
“This? Seems like a philosophy book from about a thousand years ago. It’s about the Freya faith and human dignity. Did you read it when you were here before?”
“No, I’m not really into philosophy.”
The books Turan had sought and read in this library were all practical in some way.
For example, beast encyclopedias, histories of various families, or travelogues.
Information about natural laws, now lost and known only to the librarian, was a bonus.
In contrast, Solif, with his interest in old history and mythology, had likely stumbled upon this while searching for related books.
“It says here that humans have inherent rights. The right to survive, prosper, and be happy—not granted by gods, but simply by being human. Further down, it claims ordinary people and mages should be considered equal.”
“That’s outright heretical. Surprising it wasn’t burned.”
Wasn’t it a direct contradiction to the Freya faith’s doctrine, which held that mages, as descendants of gods, protected and ruled humans based on their bloodlines and power?
Scholars would’ve surely lit their eyes ablaze to incinerate it.
Perhaps the copy he was reading was the last one left in the world.
After reading a bit more, Solif lost interest and returned the book to its original spot.
“I’m not usually into reading, but this place is pretty decent. Wish there’d been something like this in the east.”
“There’s nothing like that in the east?”
“There are a few ruins from the old empire, but no libraries like this. The only thing I can think of is maybe that dueling arena where you’d fight and die once a day but still come back?”
While chatting like this, Turan realized the conversation had veered off course and turned back to Meisa to resume speculating about the librarian’s whereabouts.
But like Solif moments ago, she too had quietly grabbed a book and started reading.
“Meisa?”
“Hm? Oh, it just caught my eye, so I thought I’d take a peek.”
At Turan’s call, Meisa showed a hint of embarrassment and snapped the book shut.
The cover revealed an odd title etched into it: *The Night Noble and the Mistress*. It seemed to be some kind of romance novel.
She, too, appeared fed up with spinning endless unanswerable theories.
“…Fine, it’s not like us talking here will solve anything. Let’s ask later if anyone used the library before us when we get back.”
With that conclusion, Turan opened a beast encyclopedia, brought over Bije—who’d been dozing on the desk—and read alongside it.
—
After immersing themselves in reading until early evening, the three of them, along with one black eagle, returned to the Baltas family’s mansion.
Tonight, a banquet was planned to celebrate their visit, so Turan intended to use the drinks and atmosphere to casually ask the lord if anyone had used the library before them.
While being attended to in the bathhouse, Turan recalled how the maids had burst into tears when he refused their service in the past.
Back then, being pampered felt strange and awkward, but at some point, he had grown comfortable playing the part of a noble.
After combing his hair for the first time in a while and donning gold-threaded clothes, Turan left Bije to rest in their quarters and headed to the banquet hall.
Soon after, he encountered Solif, similarly dressed up.
His short silver hair slicked back with oil, Solif looked at Turan with a mock-exasperated expression.
“See? Cleaned up, you’re almost as handsome as me—not quite, but close! Have some confidence, friend.”
“Sure, let’s say that.”
As always, Solif’s narcissism felt almost otherworldly.
Was it a product of Baraha’s personality shaping, or was he just born that way?
While chatting at one end of the banquet hall, the relic’s senses alerted Turan that Meisa was approaching from behind.
Turning his head, Turan widened his eyes at the sight of her.
Solif, turning a beat later, also looked surprised. Flinching under their gazes, Meisa nervously ran a hand through her hair.
“…What? Is it that weird?”
“No, it’s not weird. You look beautiful.”
In the weeks since leaving the hot spring area to come here, Meisa had steadily gained nutrition and trained, filling her body with flesh and muscle.
Naturally, her skeletal face had transformed as well.
Her appearance, previously obscured by the grime of travel and makeshift water washes, now shone thanks to the maids’ meticulous care.
Glossy reddish-brown hair flowed long, framing large blue eyes and delicate features on an oval face.
Instead of her usual defensive coat, a silver-grey dress embroidered with gold thread hugged her slender, elegant figure.
Truly, it’d be impossible to connect the current her with the skeletal witch of the past.
If they wanted to disguise her further, changing her hair color might help, but they’d need to look into whether there was an artifact for that later.
While Meisa stiffened at Turan’s response, a young man approached from behind.
“Are you Turan? You really came back! It’s been a while—do you remember me?”
Turan paused to think, then realized it was Marvin, the one he’d hunted the monkey beast with.
Nephew of the former lord and younger brother of the current one.
“Long time no see, Marvin.”
“Yes. And these two are…?”
“Friends traveling with me. Sol and Misha.”
“Ah, I see…”
Marvin glanced over Solif and Meisa, lingering on Meisa for a while before projecting his magic.
Naturally, his power, already at its limit back then, remained at the level of a low-tier noble, same as Turan’s past self.
The two exchanged a quick glance and nod before projecting their own magic in return.
“Ugh!”
Startled by the overwhelming pressure, Marvin let out a yelp and stepped back. Embarrassed by his blunder, he flushed and made an excuse to leave.
“Ahem, uh… excuse me. I think my brother’s calling.”
Watching Marvin retreat, Turan turned to the others.
“How much did you use?”
“Mid-tier, maybe a bit above? Mid-upper?”
“I went full upper-tier.”
“That’s too much. No wonder he freaked out. It stands out, so tone it down next time.”
As they said, instead of projecting their full magic, they only revealed a portion to mask their true strength.
This was one of Baraha’s techniques Solif had taught them.
The principle involved imagining multiple mirrors reflecting magic within the body, projecting it through several bounces to reduce the apparent power.
Of course, it couldn’t make them seem stronger than they were.
Without this trick, proving their status by projecting magic anywhere would’ve been tricky.
While rural nobles like these might not recognize them as great-family-heir-level mages, rumors of multiple powerful nobles suddenly appearing would’ve spread regardless.
Shortly after, the banquet began as Gilon, the Baltas head, took the head seat.
“Come, eat heartily!”
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
Speaking on behalf of the group, Turan savored the unique culinary culture of the western wilderness, which he could call his homeland after so long.
Though not as extreme as the grey zone, this area favored sheep, so lamb ribs and sheep’s milk cheese abounded.
Naturally, Meisa sipped water discreetly, while Solif, finding lamb unpalatable, sampled it a few times before switching to seasoned pork ribs.
“So, was the library satisfying after your long absence?”
“Yes. Still great. Plenty to see…”
Turan savored a glass of the strong distilled liquor he’d had before, chatting with the lord.
The topic shifted to the recent war in these lands involving the Hadit and Corel families.
“I’d heard from afar that Hadit was in trouble, but I was surprised to see they won when I got here. Baltas supported Hadit, right?”
“Yes. Thanks to that, we gained another city, but we’re short on blood kin to govern it.”
“If it’s not a secret, mind sharing? Was there some secret weapon? Reversing a losing war isn’t easy.”
What Turan wanted to know was whether his act of annihilating Corel’s army had become known.
He’d covered his tracks perfectly then, but there was always a slim chance.
Gilon answered with a slightly dour expression.
“Corel’s elite forces vanished suddenly during transit. Some speculated a beast too powerful even for nobles appeared, leading to a truce.”
“That happened?”
“It ended as an unexplained disappearance… Be cautious when traveling. You never know where you might encounter such a monster. There’s a reward if you find their traces, though we’d need to recover any artifacts.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Did they think it was a stealthy, dangerous beast that left no trace after devouring everything?
Given the variety of beasts out there, such a creature wasn’t impossible.
In fact, the beast encyclopedia he’d read recently mentioned similar ones—like a bat that turned into mist to envelop and devour everything, or a snake with a gaping maw that swallowed entire villages.
As they traded war stories and the drinks flowed, Gilon, face slightly flushed, mumbled on.
Even nobles didn’t black out from strong liquor, but it lifted spirits somewhat.
“Ah, the war… truly awful! I nearly died a few times myself, and our family lost many, starting with my uncle. Izella died then too. Come to think of it, my uncle wanted to pair you with her, didn’t he?”
“*Cough!*”
As Gilon finished, Solif, tearing into pork ribs, choked loudly.
For some reason, Meisa stared at him intently from the side.
“That did happen. I turned it down, though.”
“Had you accepted, you might be sitting here instead of me. Speaking of which, how about taking my daughter? She’s only got knight-level magic, sadly, but taking her as a concubine could strengthen family ties. A settled, prosperous life suits us nobles better than wandering.”
Like Rug’s offer before, Turan gave a wry smile and shook his head.
“I appreciate it, but I prefer freedom for now.”
“That’s a shame. The offer’s open to your friends too—Sol and Misha. Think it over.”
As Solif and Meisa each declined in their own way, the banquet’s mood dipped slightly.
As before, this family had a knack for troubling people with awkward proposals.
Marvin had likely told him about their strength earlier. They seemed desperate enough for nobles to risk losing control of the family.
If memory served, Baltas had seven or eight nobles, and at least two had died.
After chatting on lighter topics, Turan brought up what he’d been aiming for.
“By the way, did anyone use the library before us? It felt different from before.”
“Hm? As far as I know, damaged facilities or misplaced books should fix themselves. Were a bunch of books ruined or something?”
“No, it’s not that. Just a feeling—the atmosphere seemed off.”
Unable to mention the librarian, he had to dance around it, which felt frustrating.
Twisting his beard hesitantly, Gilon spoke slowly.
“Well… it’s old news now, so no harm in saying. About a month ago, another guest came. It was during the war, so we weren’t letting anyone in, but they were too big a deal to refuse.”
“Big deal? Someone from a great family?”
At Turan’s question, Gilon widened his eyes as if surprised he’d guessed it.
“Spot on. A noble from the northern Nagin family. Name was Renod, I think?”
At Gilon’s words, Turan urgently glanced at Meisa.
Renod Nagin—surely the son of the Arabion head, adopted into the Nagin family, and Meisa’s half-brother.
The one she’d sent a letter calling “murderer” in a fit of childhood rage.
Proving Turan’s memory correct, Meisa’s blue eyes turned icy with murderous intent upon hearing the name.