Shepherd Wizard Chapter 46

Translator: Pai_

“Necromancer King…”

The origin of the title 'king' traces back to ancient times, to the rulers of other races who once controlled humanity.

After the fall of the old empire, some human nobles also declared their territories as kingdoms and called themselves kings, but this ultimately did not gain widespread acceptance.

This was because, historically, most who were called kings played the role of villains, defeated by the Preah God Tribe and their descendants.

In other words, if a non-human race dared to call themselves a king, it could be presumed that they possessed the level of skill that only appears in history books.

Since it was a sacred title in its own right, it was not easily granted to just anyone.

“Is this creature strong enough to deserve such a title? I heard it fled miserably after being overwhelmed.”

When I spoke with Meisa before, hadn’t she treated it as if it were just prey that had already been caught?

“It was always a fairly strong creature, but recently, it’s become even more troublesome. Have you heard, by any chance, that the surviving faction of the Dark Elves may have joined forces with the Dwarves’ lair?”

“I did hear it might be possible.”

“We found their hideout and launched a large-scale incursion, only to suffer devastating losses. Eight nobles and around two hundred knights were killed.”

“Wait, didn’t the subjugation force consist of…”

“The forces from the main family and vassal houses combined included forty nobles and seven hundred knights. During the subjugation in the central region, three nobles and about 120 knights were killed, but in this single ambush, even more lives were lost. We tried to recover as many bodies as possible, but many of them are probably being used as undead spirits now.”

That level of loss could be said to be even greater than the damage the House Zahar suffered in the Tomb of the Gods.

Though it couldn't be compared one-to-one considering the sacrifice of Ferga, who had been a top-ranking noble...

“How in the world did that happen?”

“The Dwarves’ lair was filled with a large number of unidentified magic artifacts. They were designs we’d never seen before, but each one was lethally devastating.”

Why on earth would magic artifacts suddenly appear here?

Could it be that a wizard family had cooperated with these non-human races to attack the Arabion army?

If such a thing had truly happened, there was one candidate that came to mind.

“Don’t tell me… Zahar?”

"The young lady said it’s unlikely to be them. It seems they’re using relics left behind by the ancient Dwarves, but I’m not entirely sure what that implies.”

According to the books Turan had read, the Dwarves were among the less intelligent, more violent, and primitive races, with their outstanding physical abilities being their only strength.

At best, the items they made would be something like bone necklaces, which could hardly pose a threat to nobles.

But if Meisa had made such a statement, it must have been because she knew something.

As the heir to a great house, she likely had access to more knowledge than others.

“I understand the situation for now. But there’s one problem.”

“What is it?”

“Do you happen to know who Talis Zahar is?”

“I’m not sure. I know it’s not the name of the family head, though.”

Turan briefly shared his experience of traveling through the Enril Desert with Keorn.

A certain head of a vassal house had said that Turan’s face resembled that of a noble named Talis, the current second-in-command of House Zahar.

"There might be people among the Arabion nobles who find something strange about my face."

While staying at House Berg in the past, being an Enchanter house meant there were no war participants, and since Meisa was just a baby during the war, she wouldn't have been able to read traces of Zahar nobility in Turan's face.

However, among the members of the subjugation force, there was a significant chance that someone would recognize traces of Talis in Turan’s features.

Receiving such a comment, Keorn burst into hearty laughter.

“I get what you mean, but I don’t think there’s much to worry about. During the war, the Zahar nobles all wore similar clothing and masks. According to what we heard from prisoners, they hid their faces to erase their individuality and used Concealment magic to swap places with each other, causing confusion. There were even testimonies from nobles who said they were caught off guard because the strength of their opponents suddenly changed mid-battle.”

“Then…”

“It’s safe to say that almost no one in Arabion knows the faces of Zahar nobles. Even the peace agreement was handled solely by knights from both sides exchanging documents. But Talis Zahar the second-in-command… are you saying he might be your father?”

"I'm not sure about that. I was actually in the process of finding those traces here."

Turan didn’t go so far as to mention the story about how he had absorbed the magic power of ten Zahar nobles.

If he brought that up, he’d have to explain all kinds of odd phenomena, including the strange occurrences tied to the Night Hunter.

“Besides, wouldn’t it be too dangerous if I were to be recruited into Zahar?”

If Turan, having entered their camp, were to suddenly kill a group of sleeping nobles one night and escape, it would be a disaster.

Hearing this, Keorn responded with a wry smile.

“In my experience, people who intend to do such things don’t usually announce they’re capable of it.”

“I’ve felt this for a while, but you think too highly of me.”

“Well, I know better than anyone that up until half a year ago, you lived a life completely unrelated to Zahar. You’re also the one who saved my life. No matter what tricks Zahar might have used to lure you, I believe you wouldn’t do something so treacherous.”

Even after hearing that he’d ventured into the Enril Desert, Keorn still held such faith.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Turan averted his gaze momentarily before asking something that had been on his mind.

“By the way, can’t we request additional support from Arabion?”

If the family head himself came, wouldn’t he be able to deal with the Necromancer King and the Dwarves’ relics with ease?

Even if not that, Arabion surely had the capacity to gather more reinforcements.

“There are two major problems with that. First, given the structure of their base, sending a large number of weak wizards would likely just result in more casualties. Second, the lady is in a difficult position to request reinforcements from the main family.”

“Lady Meisa?”

If there were competitors like in Zahar, one might have to risk losing in terms of reputation. But why would an established heir have trouble receiving support from her own family?

Sensing this nuance, Keorn answered with a somewhat awkward expression.

"Since this involves internal political issues of the family, it's a bit difficult to discuss in detail... but just because someone is the heir doesn’t mean they can do everything as they please. To request reinforcements from the main family, the young lady would have to make concessions to that side."

In other words, while reinforcements were desperately needed, various circumstances made it difficult to turn to the main family. And conveniently, there was a powerful noble friend right beside her whom she wanted to rely on for help.

Having said that, Keorn rummaged through the pouch hanging at his side and pulled out an item.

Thanks to the Mimic Sacred Relic's sense, Turan immediately recognized it as a magic artifact.

It was likely a reward Meisa had prepared to draw him into her plans.

However, the true nature of the item that was revealed a moment later exceeded even Turan’s expectations.

"It's a high-capacity pouch. A Sacred Relic."

“A… Sacred Relic? Is it the Sacred Relic I'm thinking of?"

"Yes. Though it's considered among the lowest grade of Sacred Relics. Haven’t you seen similar items before?”

Keorn handed him a small cloth pouch, barely larger than the size of a palm.

As Turan accepted it, Keorn handed him a leather water bag, gesturing for him to test it out.

“I heard it can hold a hundred times its size.”

True to his words, the leather water bag, much larger than the cloth pouch itself, easily slipped inside.

The crumpled pouch didn’t even swell slightly. When Turan reached back into it, his hand grasped the leather water bag.

“I can’t believe they entrusted such a precious item to you, sir. No, it’s not that I doubt you…”

“If someone attacked me and took it, it would’ve been a disaster, right? Don’t worry. I traveled here with Lady Meisa until we got close. I only walked alone once the city came into view.”

Well, of course, they wouldn’t be so careless as to send such a valuable Sacred Relic with just one knight.

Turan flipped the pouch over in his hands a few times.

'A high-capacity pouch.'

How inconvenient had it been, carrying a backpack slung over his side every time he traveled alone?

Whenever he packed a little extra food, it got heavy and bulky, making it impossible to carry much. If he earned a lot of money, carrying it around became another hassle.

This small pouch solved all those problems at once, and it was an item that couldn’t be bought with money.

However…

‘What exactly would Lady Meisa have to concede to the main family for them to go so far as to give me this and avoid requesting reinforcements?’

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t imagine anything the heir of a great house would have to sacrifice.

Lost in thought, Turan casually tossed out a question.

“If I participate, will it be enough to subjugate them?”

"The young lady believes so."

Hearing Keorn’s response, Turan caressed the high-capacity pouch before tying its strap to his waist.

“Understood. I don’t want to see Lady Meisa get hurt, either.”

If Turan turned his back now, one of his few friends would have to make a worse or riskier decision.

Besides, hadn’t he yet to repay the debt he owed her for the Accelerated Thought magic?

If you owe a debt, you should pay it back.

***

After notifying Daruk that he would be out of the city for several days to a week, Turan took to the skies heading west with Keorn, riding Bije.

Turan grasped one of Bije’s legs with one hand while holding onto Keorn’s hand with the other.

The old knight burst into laughter at the sight of the Golden Eagle flying with two passengers.

“Haha… a Golden Eagle! Where in the world did you get such a means of flight?”

At Keorn’s remark, Bije let out an indignant chirp and twisted her body, clearly displeased at being treated as a mere mode of transport.

“She doesn’t like being called a ‘means of flight.’”

“Oh, my apologies. Bije… hmm, is she male or female?”

“She’s female.”

"Miss Bije."

Satisfied with the respectful apology, Bije let out a single content chirp and resumed her steady flight.

Before long, they reached a hill where Meisa was waiting for Keorn.

“Can I take your arrival here to mean you’re willing to help, Turan?”

"Yes. More importantly... you're injured."

“It’s not too serious.”

Meisa, whom he met again, had bandages wrapped around several places including her neck and shoulders.

“Don’t tell me all the Healers are dead?”

"That's not it, but there are many others in more urgent need than me. Since the magic power for recovery is limited, it should go to those who need it more."

She meant they were focusing on treating those who were on the verge of death rather than Meisa who was less injured.

While nodding, Turan took a deep breath without showing it.

A distinct smell of blood, faintly mixed with the scent of water and soap, and a faint body scent...

‘It’s definitely not a trap.’

Meisa didn't give off the scent of tension or excitement characteristic of living beings facing hostile targets.

While it was sometimes hard to detect other emotions through scent, fear, tension, anger, and excitement were almost never missed if properly observed.

“Keorn explained everything to you, right?”

"Yes, he did."

“Then let’s move immediately. I’d like to attack before they recover their strength if possible.”

“Shouldn’t you recover from your injuries first, Meisa?”

“It’s fine. I barely feel anything from minor wounds like this anyway.”

No matter how he thought about it, claiming that an injury didn’t hurt didn’t seem like a positive sign. However, since she insisted it was the case, it was difficult to say otherwise.

A short while later, the three people and the one Golden Eagle arrived at the Arabion camp, set up in a remote area.

“Ugh…”

“Bring more water over here!”

“Damn it, these bandages are so itchy."

The camp, filled with injured wizards, wasn’t a crude setup of makeshift tents as one might expect. Instead, it was a well-constructed building.

It seemed likely that the knights had quickly built it using stone and wood.

All around the camp, glowing magic orbs were embedded everywhere. It appeared to be a precaution against anyone attempting to infiltrate using Concealment magic.

As expected from a house hostile to Zahar, their measures were nothing short of paranoid.

When the three landed in front of the camp, Arabion nobles, including Cadrum, whom he had seen last time, approached them.

Naturally, the looks they gave Turan weren’t particularly friendly.

While it wasn’t outright hostility, there was clear suspicion in their eyes.

“This is the person we saw last time, Meisa.”

“Yes. As I told you, he’s my friend and an ally of House Berg. That should be enough to trust him. As for his magic power, you already know about that.”

“His power is sufficient, but the problem is his origin. A fallen noble who doesn’t even know his Bloodline Ability, isn’t that suspicious? What if he’s a Zahar worm in disguise?”

At this sharp remark, Turan raised his hand.

Everyone’s eyes turned toward him.

“If you wish, I can demonstrate my Bloodline Ability.”

“Hmm?”

The Arabion nobles reacted with expressions of mild interest, but Meisa, who thought he didn’t know his Bloodline Ability, was visibly surprised. Even Keorn wore a shocked expression.

After all, Keorn was the only one here who knew that Turan possessed Zahar blood.

In front of them, Turan lightly snapped his fingers, summoning flames that flickered to life. He then stretched the fire out before him.

Before long, the flames dissipated, but in their place, a long line of magical energy remained.

No one else but Turan could see it.

He picked up a long tree branch from nearby and threw it at the line. As the branch touched it, flames erupted, burning the branch to ash.

It was unmistakably a magic trap, a signature technique of the Barrier Master Bloodline.