Shepherd Wizard

Chapter 141

Translator: Pai_

"Turan! Dad, no, Father, Mom... because of me..."

Heading toward the source of the scream, Turan saw Ashiz, whose face was a mess of tears and snot.

Below him lay the mangled corpses of the Berk couple.

At the final sight of the two people who had once welcomed him as their son’s savior and guest, Turan clenched his teeth.

"I'm an idiot. Damn it, if only I hadn't pushed too hard."

"Father and Mother fought like true nobles until the end. Don't cry! That would only dishonor them."

It was his brother Melo who sharply scolded Ashiz, who was babbling incoherently, lost in self-reproach.

Judging by his torn and bloodstained clothes, he too had likely been badly injured and then treated.

Glancing around, Turan could roughly piece together what had happened.

Although many of the knights were injured, a considerable number had survived. In contrast, the nobles of House Berk had either been severely wounded or killed...

‘They must have taken the lead to protect the knights.’

There were two main reasons nobles raised knights.

First, to use them as their hands and feet to hunt Magical Beasts within their territory and maintain order; second, to use them as shields to absorb enemy attacks during wars.

Yet the nobles of Berk had taken the lead in battle to protect those very knights and lost their lives.

Even with a bloodline as unsuitable for battle as the Enchanter Bloodline.

Turan suddenly recalled the nobles of House Baltas from Orem City in the west, where he had once joined them in hunting Magical Beasts.

What if the nobles of Berk had also naturally fought using their knights as shields like those from House Baltas?

The knights might have suffered more, but the nobles would have survived.

Considering the intangible value possessed by Enchanters, it would have been wiser in terms of preserving the power of the house.

Yet ironically, the very reason Turan had grown fond of the people of House Berk was because they weren’t the type to act that way.

It was this couple who had taught Ashiz that the people who followed him were also precious.

“What’s going on?”

At that moment, Meisa, her face pale, perhaps due to the side effects of Soul Magic, flew in.

Her face stiffened the moment she saw the bodies of the Berk couple lying on the ground.

“Aunt and Uncle...”

“I’m sorry.”

To her, and to Ashiz who was still crying, Turan offered a quiet apology.

A feeling too complex to express was surging within him.

For Turan, this was the first time he had lost someone he felt he must protect.

It was a completely different sensation from when he had lost his mother in the past.

Not the sorrow of losing someone who had protected him, but the guilt and fury of failing to protect someone he should have protected...

He suddenly recalled the pride he had felt just earlier, realizing he could hold his own in a fight against the Family Head of House Aravion. And now, he felt ashamed.

‘What a fool I am.’

What was there to be proud of when he couldn’t even protect his own people?

Ashiz, perhaps sensing how deeply dark Turan’s face had grown from his own self-blame, forced a smile and tried to comfort him.

“Don’t apologize... You did your best too.”

After comforting Ashiz several more times, Turan ordered the knights beside him to collect the bodies of the Family Head and his wife, and went off to find other wounded.

Before long, he found someone in need of his help.

“Master.”

“What a mess I must look like. I’m ashamed.”

Haram Berk.

A retainer of House Berk and Ashiz’s uncle, his appearance was truly dreadful.

Burn scars covered the left side of his body, his right arm had been mangled and was in the process of healing, and there were signs that his blood vessels had burst from a lightning strike.

No one could look at him and claim he hadn’t fought with all his might.

“Please don’t say such things. I can tell how much you went through.”

Haram was a Guardian, one of the more powerful nobles.

Someone capable of putting him in such a condition would have to be a noble with power at least equal to his own.

There were clearly traces of more than three types of wounds, which meant that Haram had been dealing with three or more high-ranking nobles by himself.

Had it not been for his efforts, the Kalamaf forces would have long since been annihilated.

Glancing around, Turan saw that the Healers of Lavitas were busy tending to others.

Being a high-ranking noble and a Guardian with a durable body, he required a significant amount of magic power to heal. And since his condition wasn’t immediately life-threatening, his treatment seemed to have been pushed back in priority.

So Turan placed his hands on Haram’s body and cast Healing Magic.

Moments later, with all his wounds completely healed, Haram stood up and spoke.

“There were a lot of unfamiliar faces in this battle.”

“Unfamiliar faces?”

“I know nearly everyone of my generation among Aravion and its vassal houses, but most of the ones this time were strangers. Among them, the Aravion nobles were mostly either too old or too young.”

As he mulled over Haram’s words, Turan soon understood what they meant.

"It seems they're running short on manpower as well."

“That’s probably the case.”

From the time Meisa escaped to the recent battle in the forest, the number of Aravion nobles killed by Turan and his comrades had surpassed twenty.

Was that about the same number of casualties from the war with Zahar in the past?

On top of that, there had been losses during the Dark Elf subjugation. No matter how prestigious House Aravion was, it was beginning to stretch thin.

They were now forced to deploy either retired or young nobles, or reinforcements from House Nagin.

“So keep your spirits up, Family Head. They’re tired too. This isn’t a fight we can’t win.”

Unlike his casual tone earlier, Haram now addressed him respectfully, offering encouragement.

Turan silently repeated the title Haram had used for him.

Family Head...

It was still far too heavy a title to accept, yet it was a burden he had to bear as the leader of a group.

“Thank you for the advice, Master.”

Haram gestured for him to go and turned his head.

*

As night began to fall, they set up a campsite near the site of the battle.

During that time, Turan took a few hours to rest and recover, then sent Bije to verify once again whether Aravion’s army was truly retreating.

About an hour later.

Bije returned, happily gulping down the water prepared for her and reported what she had seen.

-Found them! People riding in wagons pulled by a giant snake! They were steadily moving west!

Thankfully, it seemed Aravion’s army was not staging a feigned retreat but was truly returning to their base.

Relieved by that, they spent the night, and the next day the Kalamaf forces began their journey back to their base.

Everyone was thoroughly exhausted from the two days of retreat and combat, so their march was painfully slow.

During the march, Turan stayed near the center of the group, using Tracking Magic to stay alert and chatting with his companions.

“How’s Ashiz doing?”

“He seems to have calmed down a bit. I think it’ll still take him time to fully accept it though...”

Meisa’s face darkened as she answered.

Turan suddenly noticed a faint trace of guilt on Solif’s face as he listened nearby.

‘Is it because of his parents?’

Back when they had decided to make Kalamaf their base.

Someone had suggested bringing Solif’s parents, who were hiding near Hisaril Hill, to live with them.

Originally, they hadn’t planned on having a base and had simply hidden them. But now that the situation had changed, it seemed more reasonable for everyone to stay together.

Surprisingly, it was Solif who opposed the idea.

He insisted that his parents would find more joy living together peacefully in an isolated place rather than in the hustle and bustle of city life.

As a result, thanks to the fact that the Varaha couple hadn’t stayed in Kalamaf, they remained safe, but the main force of Kalamaf suffered greater damage due to weakened strength.

It was only natural that Solif was feeling conflicted.

“By the way, why did that damn old man spare us? I heard you fought pretty well... but honestly, I think we would've lost if the fight had continued.”

Solif changed the uncomfortable subject, brushing over the spot on his chest that had once been caved in.

Turan shared the hypothesis he had come up with.

“I’m not sure, but I think he couldn’t maintain that level of combat power for long.”

“He couldn’t maintain it?”

“Yeah. Toward the end, he looked really exhausted. It didn’t seem like something that could be explained by age alone.”

From his spiritual vision, the sight of the spiritual body appearing to wring itself out of the physical body gave off a strong sense of overexertion.

Just like with Ymir in the past, when excessive power was used through a possessed body, the host could completely collapse.

That’s why Turan believed Badal had chosen to withdraw, preferring to preserve his army intact rather than risk his own collapse due to a time limit.

“So that’s how it is.”

“And maybe that’s also why he didn’t use god's magic... what they call ‘Skills.’”

As Turan said this, he recalled the bizarre flying magic Badal had used.

Was that also a “Skill”? Or was it simply a kind of magic Turan hadn’t been able to understand?

It couldn’t have been Telekinesis Magic moving metal.

Ordinary Telekinesis Magic couldn’t produce that level of output or dynamism, and if it could, moving one’s own body would have been more practical.

“Well, if that’s the case, we’ll need to buy time again next time we fight him. Not that it’ll be easy.”

“Right. It was really tough. We only held out for about two hours, I think...”

Meisa murmured with a sigh.

The previous night, while resting, Turan had roughly heard from them how the battle had unfolded.

It began when Meisa, during her routine patrol of the west and north, first spotted Aravion’s main force.

After eliminating the scouts pursuing her, she contacted Turan and began evacuating the city in earnest.

What followed was a two-day-long chase, Kalamaf’s forces fleeing, and Aravion’s army pursuing.

Eventually, they were caught, and a chaotic battle broke out for several hours, just in time for Turan to arrive with the wizards of Lavitas.

In hindsight, it had been an extremely narrow escape.

What if Turan had arrived even slightly later, or if he’d come alone without reinforcements?

Everyone else might have died by now, and Meisa could have been bound and dragged off to Aravion, fated to become the new body for their god.

Shaking off the horrible thought that crossed his mind, Turan brought up another bit of information he’d heard.

“Come to think of it, Badal said something at the end.”

“What was it?”

“He grumbled about having to waste his strength on such petty business at a crucial time. Like he was being ordered by someone else.”

“From what we’ve seen, there shouldn’t be anything more important to them than claiming Meisa’s body, though.”

Solif muttered in disbelief.

He had a point. There was no doubt Badal had little time left to live.

Meisa, as his potential replacement, must have been an essential asset to them.

So what could possibly be so important that even something like that had to be postponed?

“So then... I guess that means he’s not the leader of that faction?”

“If what Ymir said is true, the head of the Aravion-Nagin faction is that one guy they don’t even mention by name. Probably the Family Head of House Nagin.”

The Biologist.

The one whose traces were first found in the labyrinth, and whose identity was later speculated through materials left in the library.

Given his manipulation of dwarves, treating humanity like his toys, it seemed unlikely that his identity was Badal.

From what he had seen so far, the bloodlines Badal had shown, Storm, Enchanter, and Fighter, were far removed from the kind of power needed to manipulate life.

Hearing this, Solif stroked his chin and spoke in a low voice.

“Now that you mention it, I always felt Aravion’s response was kind of lukewarm. Maybe that so-called leader is completely preoccupied with something else.”

Just as he said, considering they had lost Meisa, the vessel of their Family Head, Aravion didn’t seem all that desperate.

At the very least, shouldn’t that “Biologist” have shown up in person this time?

If that had happened, then the worst-case scenario Turan had imagined just earlier might well have become a reality.

While discussing what scheme those enemies might be plotting, Turan and his companions steadily continued their movement northeastward.

And three days and nights later, Solif let out a cheerful whistle and said,

“We’re finally back.”

Just as he said, far in the distance, the city of Kalamaf came into view.

*

Once back in Kalamaf, Turan first spread word of the battle’s outcome throughout the city via the retainers of House Berk.

He told them they had fought against Aravion and managed to repel them, even though their Family Head had taken part directly.

On the surface, the returning group looked like nothing more than defeated soldiers, so the news didn’t immediately spread with much credibility.

Above all, wasn’t the Family Head of Aravion one of the most powerful wizards in the world?

No matter how renowned Turan of Kalamaf was for being powerful at a young age, no one truly believed he had reached the same tier as the heads of such exalted great noble houses.

But a week later, something happened that abruptly gave those vague rumors a tremendous push.

“Is that really true?”

“I told you! It was like a battlefield where gods had fought. If you ever go down that way, take a look for yourself.”

A peddler from Bexel, a city southwest of Kalamaf, excitedly chatted over beer.

A mountain caved in as if struck by a giant’s hammer, a hill with a massive hole large enough for a house to pass through, and a field where grass hundreds of meters wide had been completely scorched.

As stories spread from someone who claimed to have seen the aftermath of the battle between Kalamaf and Aravion with their own eyes, the citizens couldn’t help but recall the story they had recently heard.

“Could it really be true... that they repelled Aravion’s Head?”

“This might be the birth of a new great noble house right here in our land.”

Some people expressed discomfort and fear at the idea of standing against House Aravion, but far more found themselves filled with hope.

Kalamaf, just one of many trading cities scattered across the Gray Zone, with no significant history to speak of, becoming the capital of a great noble house?

For the residents living there, it was a dreamlike thought that made their hearts race with excitement.

As such rumors spread to neighboring regions, the wizard Family Heads of the Gray Zone could no longer remain unaffected.

Those well-versed in the world of wizards initially dismissed the idea that Turan could stand on equal footing with Aravion’s Family Head as utter nonsense, but once they had confirmed the battle site with their own eyes, they couldn’t think that way anymore.

The remnants left at the scene were nothing short of mythological, clearly proving that the battle involved individuals whose power rivaled that of great noble house leaders.

Needless to say, when Turan’s emissary later visited, those family heads bowed their heads and pledged to offer some of their nobles and knights to him.

And so, as Kalamaf began to establish itself as the capital of a new great noble house and started unifying the Gray Zone.

At last, guests arrived from the distant Enril Desert in the east.