Shepherd Wizard Chapter 40

Translator: Pai_

“Job… change?”

Repeating the word he had heard for the first time in his life, Turan immediately flipped to the next page of the paper, where the title was written.

On the next page, it was filled with disorganized writings, as if the author was trying to organize their thoughts.

[Night Hunter = Hunter + Tracker + Shadow + Alchemist]

[Conditions for Job Change: Clear the Labyrinth of Evil]

[Solo clear required? Or is it possible with a group?]

[If the dungeon and monsters are recreated to be as similar as possible, would it be considered as meeting the conditions?]

[Design it to open when a suitable target matching the conditions is detected.]

[Add a feature to lure only the target in.]

[Deny entry to those who are not the target? X]

The meaning of the phrase at the top likely indicated that the bloodlines inherited by the descendants of the Night Hunter consisted of four types.

The term "job change" was still unclear in meaning… but judging from the context, it might have referred to the process of becoming a Night Hunter, expressed with the phrase "job change".

If the "lure function" mentioned here referred to the inexplicable impulse that had drawn Turan in, then it was understandable.

This book was clearly something akin to a notebook left behind by the creator of the labyrinth.

Judging from the circumstances, it seemed likely that the person who made the Tomb of the Gods was the same one who created this. If that were true, then wasn't it a piece of writing left directly by the Preah God Tribe, such as The Lame Goddess, or a being of a similar rank to her…?

Swallowing nervously, Turan flipped to the next page.

The following page contained a few lines of scribbled notes similar to the ones before, as well as sketches of the monsters that had swarmed the labyrinth.

[Monster: Rotten Angler. Ingredients: Blood and flesh of a giant. For dungeon boss Giant Angler, ingredients Queen Giant used as material.]

[Power source: Magic Power? Lifespan issue handled with hibernation.]

[How to reproduce acidic blood and fire-breathing techniques? X]

[Too low-level compared to the actual dungeon. How to raise the limit?]

It seemed that the word "monsters" referred to the creatures that had filled this labyrinth.

The fact that these creatures were artificially created and that their ingredients were the remains of the giants, a race that had gone extinct in ancient times, was utterly shocking. However, at the same time, it made sense.

After all, the existence of such grotesque creatures occurring naturally would have been even stranger.

More than that, the divine power capable of crafting even living beings inspired awe in Turan.

Even after flipping through three or four more pages, he couldn't find many phrases he could fully comprehend.

From fragments like "Application to Earth Mother Goddess job change experiment" and "Utilizing the failures of previous experiments", he could only deduce that these "experiments" were not conducted solely in this one location.

Folding the pages and placing them into his pocket, Turan recalled what the eye in the door had said.

'It said my entry was an error.'

After reading through the book, he was able to grasp the situation to some extent.

The creator of the labyrinth had aimed to create a Preah God, a Night Hunter.

For that, they needed a wizard who possessed all four bloodlines derived from that god.

They believed that if a wizard who fulfilled those conditions defeated the leader of the labyrinth, the dungeon boss mentioned in this book, they could become a god.

However, for some reason, the labyrinth mistakenly recognized Turan as the 'Night Hunter candidate', due to the Sacred Relic making it perceive him as someone with all four bloodlines, and thus it opened up.

As for Ferga and the others, Turan wasn’t sure, but it seemed they had been swept up in it, likely while on some sort of tour.

In any case, having defeated the dungeon boss, Turan re-examined his own body just in case, but he didn’t feel any divine power surging through him.

All he could sense was the increased magic power he had gained by absorbing the magic of monsters and nobles outside.

From the start, it was almost impossible that Turan would possess two sealed bloodlines, let alone the Shadow and Alchemist bloodlines.

Both bloodlines were so ancient that they were never even mentioned in the historical records Turan had read in Orem’s library.

Based on the legends passed down in the Enril Desert, those bloodlines likely went extinct in the distant past, possibly during the era of the old empire or sometime after, following their conflict with their sibling house, House Zahar.

While trying to sort through his thoughts, Turan was struck by a sudden strong sense of déjà vu.

Ovil the Pyro Executioner, whom he had killed in the northwest near the lands ruled by House Carmine...

The bizarre methods of that madman, Ovil, who claimed that you could gain the Pyromaniac Bloodline by burning humans and covering yourself in their ashes, felt oddly similar to the way things worked in this labyrinth.

Especially in how it asserted that power could be obtained through seemingly meaningless methods.

"Could it be that the idea of artificially acquiring bloodlines is actually true?"

Come to think of it, Ovil had said something similar, hadn’t he? That the god had shown him the way.

But if that were the case, why hadn’t the creator of this labyrinth directly created someone with such bloodlines instead of waiting for a Night Hunter bloodline holder to wander in?

Pondering this topic for a while, Turan eventually let out a sigh and moved toward the vortex.

There was no point in overthinking it here, and more importantly, he thought, if he stalled too long and the vortex leading out disappeared, it would be a disaster.

Passing through the vortex, Turan found himself standing in the middle of a desert region on the outskirts of Vanipel.

The Tomb of the Gods, far off in the distance, loomed with its enormous grandeur, serving as proof of where he was.

He moved to a relatively higher ground, deactivated his Concealment ability, and summoned his Golden Eagle through the soul bond.

It must have been quite far away, as the eagle only appeared after nearly thirty minutes. When it arrived, it pecked sharply at Turan’s head and began scribbling on the ground with its talons.

[Too late! A day, two days, anyway! Late! Scared!]

“Haha, sorry…”

Had it been three days since he got trapped in the labyrinth?

During that time, Turan had sensed the eagle's anxiety through the soul bond, so he comforted it, stroking its head repeatedly.

However, the eagle shook its head and stepped back.

[Smell.]

“Ah.”

Of course, being stuck in the labyrinth for three days, not to mention fighting in a final melee, had left Turan’s clothes and body smeared with rotting flesh and blood.

Although he had cleaned up somewhat in the process of erasing his traces, it wasn’t nearly enough to get rid of the stench.

Refusing to carry him due to the filth, the Golden Eagle left Turan with no choice but to run on foot toward Vanipel’s oasis.

Naturally, the oasis, being the city’s most important water source, was guarded by knights.

“Hey, don’t you think the atmosphere in the house has been weird lately? The lord and the attendants who accompanied him haven’t been seen for a while.”

“Why worry? Let’s not concern ourselves with the affairs of the higher-ups. They probably have their reasons. How about a drink tomorrow instead?”

“Geez, I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”

As the two knights chattered idly, Turan passed between them unnoticed, heading to a spot beyond their line of sight. There, he used magic to draw enough water for two people to bathe in.

Thanks to his Concealment ability, the knights didn’t notice him stealing water from the oasis right next to them.

He carried the stolen water to a deserted rocky area, where he transformed the ground to create a pit, filled it with water, and heated it.

After stripping off his clothes and washing himself thoroughly, he lifted the water into the air, removing all impurities, and then cleaned his clothes before putting them back on. Only then did he start to look somewhat presentable again.

“Phew, now I feel like I can breathe…”

He wondered how he used to survive in the past, going weeks without washing.

After finishing his bath, Turan made sure to erase all traces of what he’d done. The altered ground was returned to its original flat state, the water was evaporated into the air, and the impurities were burned away completely.

[Now clean?]

“Yes, I’m clean. Will you carry me now?”

[Okay!]

Grabbing the Golden Eagle’s legs, Turan soared into the sky.

The fact that the labyrinth had opened would soon become known, as Vanipel continued to send in vagrants.

If possible, he needed to get far away from this place before that happened.

The House Zahar would inevitably begin searching for the one who had absorbed the magic power of the ten nobles.

Since Turan had left no trace of himself within, he could only hope that the labyrinth’s unique characteristics would lead others to assume the magic power had simply vanished. However, such matters always required assuming the worst-case scenario.

"It’s probably better to leave the Enril Desert entirely for a few months until things quiet down."

The deaths of ten nobles were a matter grave enough to shake even a major house like House Zahar.

During the past war with House Arabion, the number of noble casualties was about twenty-six or so on each side, nearly half the number of losses typical in a war between great houses.

Moreover, one of the deceased nobles was a successor candidate for the house’s leadership, meaning a large-scale investigation was inevitable.

If, during such an investigation, the discovery was made that a fallen noble like Turan Brahms had suddenly gained immense power, purely by chance…

There was no doubt he would become the primary suspect.

Of course, leaving the desert would mean temporarily putting aside his original goal of searching for his parents’ trail...

But surely his mother would not have wanted her son to meet his end while chasing after her footsteps.

Besides, with the Golden Eagle, it wouldn’t take too long to return once it was safe.

While Turan was deep in thought, a chirp came from above.

The Golden Eagle looked down at him, projecting an air of confusion as if asking, "Where are we going?"

“Ah, right. Let’s head in that direction first.”

Turan pointed toward the northwest.

While flying on the Golden Eagle, Turan did his best to avoid contact with other people.

With his enhanced magic power, he used Detection Magic to cover a range of nearly ten kilometers, changing direction whenever he picked up the scent of humans.

After a day and a half of flying and resting, the desert terrain began to change.

The clothing of the people he observed from afar became noticeably different, and the climate turned slightly more humid and cool.

What would have taken ordinary travelers over a month, or even a week for nobles, was reduced to nothing before the wings of this creature.

By the time white snow began to fall from the sky, Turan had the Golden Eagle land on the ground.

“You did well. Let’s take a break now. You must be tired, right?”

[Yes. Want rest.]

The Golden Eagle, showing signs of exhaustion, wrote this down before perching on a rod attached to Turan’s bag and closing its eyes.

Turan stroked its feathers gently and then turned his gaze to the white rocky mountains that stretched out before him.

'So this is the Grey Zone.'

This region, located west of the Enril Desert and east of Maderi City, where Turan had first met Ashiz, was filled with rugged rocky mountains.

It was also the site of a fierce war between the armies of House Arabion and House Zahar in the past.

"According to the travelogues, there are supposed to be blind dwarves living in these mountains who eat people, right?"

Of course, even if such creatures did exist, they wouldn’t pose much of a threat to Turan.

As he was now, he was stronger than most of the heads of mid-sized noble houses, stronger even than the head of the House Baltas, whom he had met before. He was powerful enough to rival the elite of even the greatest houses.

At this level, it was almost impossible for a noble of his caliber to die unless they faced multiple noble houses head-on.

Well, unless he ended up in some absurd situation like Ferga, that is.

'First, I should take it easy and figure out where exactly this place is.'

Turan’s next destination was Orem City, the base of House Baltas, which he had visited before.

He planned to return to its library and consult with the librarian there about the various secrets he had uncovered in the labyrinth.

Carrying the Golden Eagle by his side, he walked for about an hour before an old empire road came into view.

Although the surrounding area was blanketed in white snow, the flakes falling from the sky melted instantly upon touching the road.

It was then that Turan noticed a strange procession approaching from the opposite direction on the road.

“Mom, I’m tired.”

“Stop whining and walk faster. If you stop, we’ll leave you behind!”

“Wahhh…”

The procession was a chaotic mixture of men and women, young and old, all carrying various belongings.

Each of them bore an expression full of exhaustion as they passed by Turan, glancing at him as if he were strange. However, they seemed too drained to even speak to him and simply continued moving southeast.

'What's going on?'

They looked as though they were fleeing from something.

Walking in the direction they had come from, it wasn’t long before Turan came across a rather sizable city.

Perhaps because it was located in the middle of a mountain range, its walls were built in a semicircle with a large cliff behind it for support. Standing by the city gate, a guard noticed Turan and tilted his head in confusion.

“A traveler? But what’s with that bird… and your clothes…?”

It wasn’t strange for the guard to find Turan odd.

The white desert robe he had worn earlier was so stained with monster blood that he had burned it after washing was no longer an option. Now, he wore only the shirt, pants, and cloak that Ashiz had given him as a gift.

In the dead of winter, there were only two types of people who traveled dressed like that: madmen or wizards.

Realizing this, the guard’s face turned pale.

“W-w-welcome! Might I ask which esteemed hou..."

It seemed that if Turan wanted to continue pretending to be a commoner, he would need to buy a thick padded coat or some fur clothing to blend in better.

“I’m just a traveler passing through. But might I request a day’s hospitality from this city’s lord?”

If his identity hadn’t been exposed, he might have slipped through unnoticed, but now that he’d been identified as a wizard, sneaking away would go against customary etiquette.

However, for some reason, the guard hesitated awkwardly at Turan’s request.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well… you see… this is Kalamaf, and… the lord is no longer here.”

“What? How is that possible?”

A city without a lord?

Judging by its size, this city wasn’t small in the slightest. Even smaller cities like Murei kept at least one noble in residence as a precaution.

Could that procession he had seen earlier be connected to this situation?

“I’m just a low-ranking guard, so I don’t know much, but… I heard that the lord was recently killed by Dark Elves who invaded from the west…”

The guard explained, his face filled with unease, that the city now had neither nobles nor knights.