Shepherd Wizard (Novel) - Chapter 85
Chapter 85
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Discord
As is typical of divine beings, Ymir’s words were laced with unfamiliar terms presumed to be of celestial origin, but Turan deftly filtered them out to focus on the concrete details.
Questions like how he survived, or where he had been hiding for thousands of years.
From this, a clear conclusion emerged.
The Night Hunter, Otas, was not currently the god ruling Zahar.
In fact, Ymir, a surviving god of the present era, believed Otas had perished long ago in ancient times.
‘This is a problem…’
Turan felt a sudden gratitude for the mask he wore.
Without it, his startled, stiff expression would have been fully exposed to his opponent.
The plan he had crafted—pretending to be an agent of the god ruling Zahar—had just crumbled to nothing.
An ordinary person might have panicked and floundered, but Turan, even in this situation, racked his brain to find a way to use this newly acquired information.
Thanks to accelerating his thoughts, he managed to devise a plausible strategy in just a second.
“He has always existed. You simply did not know. The Night Hunter reveals himself to no one.”
Turan’s newly improvised tactic was to prop up the nonexistent Night Hunter as his backer.
As expected, Ymir, though slightly bewildered, did not outright contradict him.
“That sounds exactly like something that guy would do… So, what message does Otas want to convey? Actually, I’m the one who has something to say! We weren’t even on bad terms before, so why this kind of—”
“He has remained in hiding for eons to prepare for his revival, and now he wishes to know how the world has turned.”
Interrupting Ymir, Turan’s words seemed to irk him, as he narrowed his eyes.
The response that followed dripped with sarcasm.
“What, he doesn’t want to read a history book or something?”
“Tell me which gods have survived and which families they each rule.”
“Oh, that? It’s not hard to answer. It’s not some big secret among us anyway. But…”
Ymir spat on the ground and continued in a scornful tone.
“If you want to hear it, untie this first, you dumb NPC b*st*rd! How dare you boss a god around?”
His attitude was so brazen that one might mistake Turan for the one bound in chains.
Perhaps it stemmed from the arrogance of a divine being who had spent ages hopping between human bodies like toys, coupled with the assurance that his soul would remain intact even if Lenod’s body died.
Turan stared at Ymir silently for a few seconds before speaking slowly.
“You seem to believe your soul will return whole once that body dies. But the Night Hunter has granted me the means to harvest souls. He even permitted me to take just your soul if you refuse to cooperate.”
At Turan’s words, Ymir didn’t flinch in fear but instead scowled, showing anger.
“Bullshit. If such a method existed, you’d have used it already instead of trying to talk me into it. Besides, none of Otas’s roles ever included that kind of ability!”
Despite his outward bravado, a faint scent of fear emanated from him.
He wasn’t entirely convinced, but he harbored some doubt—just in case.
His ability to feign composure likely came from the worldly wisdom gained over his long existence.
Lowering his voice, Turan pressed him sternly.
“You or I could hardly presume to guess what new power he gained traversing the boundary of life and death. But he did warn me of this: if I misuse it, your soul might shatter. It would be a shame for us to lose a valuable informant like that. That’s why I’m persuading you with words.”
“What…”
“But if you provide enough useful information, I’m willing to release that body and even offer a separate reward. Something you’d find quite satisfying.”
“What damned reward?”
“I’ll tell you the secret to true immortality.”
Of course, no such method actually existed, but Turan threw out empty promises without hesitation.
After a moment of silence, swayed by the carrot-and-stick approach, Ymir asked with a suspicious look.
“Explain it.”
“Not the petty immortality of parasitizing mortal bodies like you do, but reclaiming your full authority as a god. Just as my master has done.”
A faint glimmer of longing flickered in Ymir’s eyes.
Surely, even they weren’t thrilled about constantly leeching off others’ bodies to survive.
Especially in a state like now, inhabiting a mere upper-tier noble.
“…If he really pulled that off, why bother with this? Even that b*st*rd Nachi ruling the desert would piss himself and kneel if Otas returned with his full power. World domination would be a breeze.”
His words implied that the power they had amassed over the ages paled in comparison to the Freya gods at their peak.
Even the Zahar family head, who had clashed with Arabion’s head, and the god Nachi behind him wouldn’t dare oppose such might.
While inwardly reeling at this revelation, Turan maintained an imposing demeanor, forcing a choice and brushing off Ymir’s question.
“I’ll tell you all about that as part of the reward. Now choose. Will you make a deal, or risk your soul’s potential destruction to stay loyal?”
Unlike his earlier arrogance, Ymir’s eyes darted as he fell into troubled thought.
Likely a mix of slight fear at the soul-snatching threat and temptation at the promise of reclaiming a divine body.
And the price he had to pay wasn’t even that significant, was it?
The whereabouts of the surviving gods wasn’t exactly a closely guarded secret among those in the know.
After a pause, Ymir spoke in a somewhat subdued tone.
“…I can’t talk about my side. Our leader knows when someone outside discusses anything related to him.”
The mention of a “leader” brought a fear to Ymir’s face greater than when soul annihilation was raised.
The idea that merely mentioning him could be detected gave Turan a hunch about why the librarian was abducted and who the gods ruling Arabion and Nagin might be.
‘The Biologist…’
The Freya god who had condemned the Night Hunter Otas and created the underground labyrinth.
It must have been the conversation about him in the library that caused the issue.
What puzzled him was that discussing it with Meisa, Solif, or Asiz hadn’t seemed to trigger anything.
He hadn’t been particularly cautious then either.
“But I’ll tell you everything about the other factions. How’s that? Otas is probably only interested in the Enril Desert anyway. He never wanted to leave that place back then.”
“Fine. But include the factions outside the Enril Desert too.”
Sensing this was the final compromise, Turan accepted the offer immediately.
Ymir paused to gather his thoughts, then began explaining slowly.
“First, the leader of the faction ruling Zahar is Nachi. He’s been inhabiting the family heads generation after generation.”
“What kind of god does Nachi refer to? Is it a name?”
“Just pass it on like that. Otas will understand what it means anyway.”
Turan considered pressing for more but held back.
To maintain his role as the Night Hunter’s envoy, contradicting that would be tricky.
Excuses like incomplete memory might cast doubt on the “true immortality” he offered.
Besides, Ymir’s choice to mention Zahar first suggested he still suspected Turan might be part of that faction—or thought Otas would prioritize it.
“Under Nachi, there are probably three or four others, usually possessing key figures or vassal family members of Zahar, or lying dormant. Finding a perfect vessel isn’t easy, and crafting one takes a lot of effort.”
“Crafting a vessel—you mean manipulating their personality from a young age?”
“You already know that too?”
“Roughly. Explain it in detail. Do they use soul-binding arts?”
Perhaps because this was more critical than what was mentioned earlier, Ymir hesitated, chewing his lips, before continuing.
Turan’s hint that he already had some guesses likely influenced him.
“…Yes. With the help of soul-binders, they transfer into bodies. The more similar the personality or habits, the higher the synchronization. Usually, they possess someone moderately compatible—like this body—but for those with high potential or specific talents, they mold their personality or hobbies from childhood.”
Turan noticed Meisa and Solif, surrounding Ymir, trembling faintly.
The suspicions they had only speculated about were now confirmed through Ymir’s words.
“Is soul possession always like your method?”
“What?”
“It seems the original body owner’s consciousness remains intact. Is that coexistence typical?”
Honestly, on the surface, it seemed far milder than he’d imagined.
It was less soul theft and more like cohabitation.
Almost to the point where raising a god in your body might seem like a decent self-defense measure.
But Ymir’s next explanation shattered that notion.
“I don’t know the exact details, but… they said it’s about replacing the spirit that forms the personality while leaving the soul as the driving force? So the original owner’s personality is just a reflex from the information left in the brain. If I leave, this body becomes a vegetable instantly.”
Oblivious to the two potential victims shivering, Ymir rambled on before suddenly clamping his mouth shut.
Likely because he assumed Turan’s questions might veer toward reversing soul possession.
He couldn’t risk saying anything that might jeopardize his own survival.
Reading this, Turan swiftly changed the topic.
“So, who are the gods in the Zahar family? Whose bodies are they in now?”
“I only know of Darkie and Gunslinger. I don’t know who they’re in now. We’re just loosely cooperative with that side, not close enough to share that much.”
The fact that Arabion-Nagin and Zahar were separate factions with minimal interaction was another valuable piece of information.
It meant sowing discord between them could be far more effective than expected.
Turan nodded, gesturing with his head for Ymir to continue.
“Kamain is ruled by the Lawyer, and they’re outright hostile to us. They’ve allied with the mermaids.”
“Allied with mermaids?”
“Yeah. Even back then, he was yapping about marrying a mermaid princess or some nonsense. Guess he made his dream come true, that crazy fish-f*cker…”
Turan suddenly recalled Armani, the mermaid prince he’d met before.
The boy who’d asked his family why they ate humans—how was he doing now?
At any rate, if even gods were wary and hesitant to challenge them, the mermaids’ strength must be considerable.
Could the mermaid king transform into a giant sea serpent or something?
“Go on.”
“The leader of Ruban is the Druggie. He’s been an isolationist for ages—I haven’t seen him in nearly a thousand years. Not sure if he’s still alive.”
Ruban was a great family north of Baraha, in the northeast of the continent.
Known for combining the Historian and Guardian bloodlines, it was supposedly the only great family specialized in close combat.
Solif had mentioned their dueling arena was in their territory too.
“And Baraha?”
“That’s… the Mechanic, I think? It might’ve changed, I’m not sure. They’re not full isolationists, but they tend to keep to themselves. They’re somewhat close to Nachi’s side, so he might know.”
Indeed, the apparent connection between Baraha and Zahar hadn’t been a misconception.
Perhaps distance posed a significant constraint even for the Freya gods, as responses about the eastern continent’s families were uniformly vague.
As he pieced it together, one great family remained unaccounted for.
“What about Ravitas?”
“There’s probably no one there.”
“Why not?”
“Well… ruling a family isn’t as easy as it sounds. Since we agreed not to reveal ourselves, we’d have to take it over discreetly, and that brings a lot of hassle. In the past, families in wastelands or forests were wiped out when attempts to control them were exposed. Plus, getting a body isn’t exactly free.”
He didn’t specify the exact conditions, but it seemed maintaining a system of ruling and transferring into great families required a certain scale on their part.
Fair enough—wouldn’t they need at least a couple of helpers to assist with body transfers?
If true, this meant the young boy head of Ravitas was genuinely a pure human, free of divine possession.
While he couldn’t be certain based solely on Ymir’s word, it seemed 99% likely.
“So, are there soul-binders you don’t control?”
“No. They were rare to begin with, and we hunted them down thoroughly… I can’t say where we stashed them.”
“That’s fine.”
He was curious, but pressing further would clearly yield nothing meaningful.
After a few more rounds of questions, Ymir, finally out of patience, cut in.
“Hey, I’ve said plenty by now. How about you tell me? That secret to immortality?”
When Turan didn’t respond immediately, Ymir, growing anxious, quickly added.
“If you just ditch me, I’ll tell our leader everything. That g—god already didn’t get along with Otas, you know? If he finds out you know that kind of secret, it won’t end well.”
In other words, he was threatening to spill it unless Turan shared the secret, since he didn’t want Otas’s return exposed.
Turan chuckled softly and replied.
“And you think he’d leave you alone if you did? If I were him, I wouldn’t be too fond of a subordinate blabbing secrets to someone I dislike. Besides, my master has no intention of keeping it a secret anyway.”
Ymir’s face hardened at the counter-threat.
Before he could respond, Turan drew the dagger from his belt.
“What…”
“I’ll relay all the information you provided to Otas. Wait for him to personally deliver your reward later. Whether you tell your leader is up to you.”
“Wait! You said you’d spare this body—”
Turan cut him off there, swinging the dagger to sever Ymir’s—or rather, Lenod’s—neck.
Judging by his words, finding a suitable vessel wasn’t easy, so this should hinder Ymir’s activities for a while.
Perhaps he wouldn’t even be able to report what he’d learned to his “leader” until he revived.
As the head, bearing a mix of futility and betrayal, rolled on the ground, a lump of magic soon burst from the remaining body.
‘Is that a god’s soul?’
He wondered if he could see bloodline symbols within it, but before he could, the lump sped northwest.
Turan quickly pulled out the jewel box and infused it with magic.
Though emptied after releasing the librarian and left with Bije, it activated—but the entity, presumably Ymir’s soul, flew off unhindered.
After a final attempt at control with telekinesis and life-manipulation magic, Turan clicked his tongue and stowed the box.
Meisa, watching from the side, spoke.
“Didn’t work?”
“Yeah. Seems it can only trap regular spirits. Would’ve been nice to catch it.”
He’d hoped to learn about the Biologist, likely the leader of the Arabion-Nagin faction, and his mysterious abilities.
But asking what powers gods wielded might have raised suspicion about his role as Otas’s envoy, so he’d refrained—regrettably.
—
Turan’s group properly disposed of Lenod’s body, cleaned up their traces, and headed to where Bije was hiding.
As they walked, Solif, who’d been silent, muttered in a faintly hollow tone.
“I never imagined so many gods still lingered in this world… Some even teaming up with other races? Damn, I didn’t think I’d feel this small.”
“Well, just learning they’re not all on the same side is a gain. We might even borrow one god’s power to fight another.”
They’d need to account for the loose bonds between them, but if Turan’s group gained strength rivaling one faction, they could directly intervene in this grand game.
To do that, building power was now paramount.
Seeing the trio arrive, Bije cried out in delight, and Turan patted its head.
“Then it’s time to seriously start gathering strength.”
“Where to?”
“How about the North Sea first? I promised to show Solif, and… the sea has more powerful beasts than the land.”
Given that larger, stronger creatures were more likely to be potent beasts, it stood to reason that massive sea creatures would possess far greater power than land ones.
Turan had indeed sensed the presence of formidable beasts while sailing the North Sea or roaming the South Sea.
He’d only retreated because finding them by diving after abandoning ship was impractical, or they seemed too tough to beat.
But with three top-tier nobles, capable of overwhelming even mythic beasts, joining forces, that changed everything.