Shepherd Wizard Chapter 52

Translator: Pai_

In the past, Turan had watched the play Hero Keorn, where the war between the two great noble families was depicted as an honorable and fair battle.

Knights clashed with weapons, while nobles on the sidelines hurled fire and lightning to gain the upper hand.

However, real war was carried out in a far more insidious and treacherous manner.

First, the nobles of House Zahar would approach in concealment, secretly tampering with the prepared food and water or ambushing and sniping those who left the main forces for reconnaissance and communication.

At night, they would openly unleash magic and flee repeatedly, ensuring that the enemy could barely get any sleep.

In contrast, the daytime belonged to House Arabion.

They advanced slowly but steadily, illuminating their surroundings and forcibly securing cooperation from the noble families that ruled the regions they passed through to replenish their supplies.

Naturally, those who refused were undoubtedly Zahar's spies, and they were burned to death with lightning.

Since it was impossible to wipe out all the noble families along Arabion's path in advance, Zahar changed their strategy while the enemy approached at a slow pace.

They dispatched small elite units of nobles and knights to launch direct invasions of Arabion's homeland.

The main targets of these attacks were the small cities scattered across the Takein Plains.

The main estates, where the family heads might still be present, were too much of a burden to attack, whereas these smaller cities were left defenseless due to the conscription of nobles and knights.

The raiding parties slaughtered the few remaining nobles and knights and looted valuable treasures from the central estates. In the process, some set their sights on the women who had been raised to become concubines of nobles.

Turan’s mother, Bije, was one such girl, abducted from the small city of Kimel in the southern Takein Plains.

"Bizella?"

"Yes. If my memory serves me right, that was definitely her name."

Turan repeated his mother’s real name for the first time, lost in thought.

It certainly sounded much more aristocratic than Bije.

And also more feminine.

"I still remember her because that young lady was quite an unusual person."

"Unusual how?"

"Well, you see..."

While taking care of the captured women, Sarina categorized them into two groups.

The first were the submissive ones.

These women, having lost all hope of returning home, did everything they could to charm a man and escape the fate of being treated like breeding livestock.

They flirted with the Zahar nobles and knights who had slaughtered their families, desperately seeking special treatment.

The second group was the defiant ones.

They were consumed with hatred, determined to kill the enemies who had murdered their families.

They refused to eat or attempted to disfigure their own faces to diminish their value.

Aside from a select few whose beauty was deemed too precious, most of them were disposed of in various ways before long.

But Bizella was neither of the two.

She acted as if she were on a trip to a new place, wandering around all day and asking the servants endless questions.

Why do people here dress like this?

What is this dish called, and how is it made?

What is the name of the god worshipped here?

Once, another abducted girl scolded her, asking why she was acting so cheerful in such a miserable situation.

Her response was astonishing.

'Isn't it fascinating that people live so differently in a place we never knew about? At least it's better than being stuck at home, putting on fake smiles!'

Naturally, for the girls who had been trained their entire lives to become noble concubines, such words were nothing short of an insult.

As a result, Bizella became an outcast even among them.

Thanks to this, Sarina, who served the captives, naturally grew close to her and heard many personal stories.

Bizella spoke of how she had always dreamed of becoming a traveling merchant since childhood but had been slapped by her father for even suggesting it.

She complained that the noble education she received at home was so boring that she felt like she was dying.

"I'm sad that my family is gone, but they never cared about what I wanted anyway. Rather than being stuck in that suffocating mansion for the rest of my life, at least now I get to see a different world."

Hearing Sarina's explanation, Turan tried to imagine his mother, twenty years younger, probably around his own age now.

A bizarrely eccentric and optimistic young woman who, despite losing her entire family and being kidnapped, still claimed that things weren’t so bad...

That image bore no resemblance to the cynical and utterly exhausted woman in his memories.

What had happened to change that peculiar girl so drastically?

"What about the man?"

What Turan was just as curious about as his mother was the identity of his father.

Since his mother was the daughter of an Arabion knight, his father was undoubtedly a noble or knight from House Zahar.

Judging by the circumstances, he was likely a noble.

To commoners, all wizards were high-ranking figures, but nobles wouldn’t have looked kindly on an ordinary knight taking a woman as his concubine and raising her.

Besides, while magic power wasn’t always inherited perfectly from one's parents, Turan's potential was far too high for him to have been born from a knight and a commoner.

"There was only one man who came looking for that young lady. He was a young man, though, well, I don’t actually know his real age, but-"

"You mean he looked young. What about his appearance or name? Was he a knight? A noble?"

"That, I can't quite remember. I was serving too many people back then… I’m sorry."

Turan clicked his tongue in disappointment but soon accepted it.

It was only natural.

That former innkeeper was an exception - normally, most people wouldn’t remember the face of someone they had seen only a few times, in passing, twenty years ago.

"However, I do remember a few things the young lady said about the man she was meeting. She mentioned that despite seeming stern, he was actually kind, that they had planned to travel together someday, and... she didn’t seem to dislike him."

In fact, Sarina added quietly, she had looked more like a girl in love.

Turan felt immense relief at those words.

Although the circumstances of their first meeting being a kidnapping was problematic from the start, but if there had been genuine love between them, then at least he could come to terms with it.

His mother had spoken well of his father before, but Turan had always suspected that it was just something she said for her son's sake.

Sarina continued sharing more about Bizella.

Like the time she was locked in solitary confinement because she was running around the mansion to build stamina for traveling, which was mistaken as an escape attempt.

Or the time she nearly set the garden on fire while trying to learn how to make a fire by rubbing sticks together.

Turan eagerly etched these amusing anecdotes into his memory, a smile tugging at his lips.

"The young lady became pregnant about three or four months before she escaped. Even then, she used to say that when the three of them traveled together in the future, all this knowledge would come in handy. But then… she suddenly ran away."

One night, Sarina had stepped out of the mansion for a minor errand. On her way back, she ran into Bizella.

Startled, Sarina instinctively blocked her path. Bizella, looking equally surprised, pulled her horse to a stop, who knew where she had stolen it from, and pleaded with her.

Unlike her usual cheerful self, her face was utterly despondent.

"She begged me to pretend I hadn’t seen her. So I asked her, didn’t you say the three of you would travel together someday? Why are you running away now?"

"And? What did she say?"

"She said… she had been too naive in how she saw the world. That there was no such thing as true freedom, and in the end, we were all nothing more than livestock raised by shepherds. And she couldn’t allow this child to be given the same fate."

Those were the exact words his mother had spoken when Turan first awakened his magic.

In the end, Sarina had pretended not to see Bizella’s escape.

And that was how twenty years had passed.

Turan could now guess that his father must have helped his mother escape.

Otherwise, where would she have found a good horse capable of carrying her thousands of kilometers to safety? And how had she managed to evade Zahar's trackers?

"Well? Are you satisfied?"

Alos, who had been quietly listening from behind, asked in a subtle tone.

Turan hesitated for a moment before nodding.

He was convinced that no other noble house could provide a more detailed account than what he had just heard.

It was already a significant gain just to know for certain that there was no point in trying to find relatives on his mother's side.

He still didn’t know who his father was among Zahar’s nobles or knights, nor why he hadn’t been with his mother. But perhaps that was something he would learn later in the Enril Desert.

More than anything, he had indirectly experienced a version of his mother he had never known before.

That alone was enough to satisfy him.

"From this moment on, Kalamaf is yours. I trust you will govern it faithfully as per our agreement."

Alos grinned, revealing his white teeth, as he spoke in response to Turan’s answer.

With the higher-ups having finalized their discussions, Kalamaf City officially began preparations to transfer governance to House Mebern.

Some officials from Vigen City arrived to take over various administrative duties and assess the city's condition. As they reviewed the documents, they couldn't hide their astonishment.

"My god, do these numbers even make sense…?"

"It's like a corpse coming back to life."

According to the population and financial records, Kalamaf had essentially been a dead city brought back to life.

And it was all thanks to a single individual.

The one responsible for this miracle, Turan, was making his final preparations to leave.

"Off on another journey. Sounds fun, doesn’t it, Bije?"

[Where to?]

"Southwest, to a place called the Sky Library. Come to think of it, you wouldn’t be able to see the old librarian, would you? Since I’m sneaking in this time, it’ll be tricky for you to come along."

This time, he planned to simply use Concealment, sneak in, take care of his business, and leave.

On his first visit, he had gone through official channels just in case there were any hidden detection measures capable of seeing through Zahar’s Concealment. But now he knew there weren’t any.

Given Turan's current magic power, it was unlikely, but it would be annoying if the head of that place tried to insisted again about marrying his daughter.

"Now that I think about it, I really have been here a long time."

Since his journey began, the longest he had ever stayed in one place was a month at House Berg. But in Kalamaf, he had ended up staying for nearly two to three months, his longest stay in any city.

After one final check of his room in the city hall residence, Turan stepped out the door.

Daruk, who had now stepped down from his position as mayor, bowed his head to him.

"You have arrived, Great Turan."

Now that he had officially relinquished his role as the city’s protector, Turan’s new title among the people was Great Turan.

The man who had saved Kalamaf from ruin, the one who had accomplished what no other noble would dare attempt.

"You must be disappointed that you can't continue as mayor."

"It was an ill-fitting role for me from the start. Besides, I'm far too old now."

It was true. Daruk was already sixty-six years old, well past the age of retirement for someone who wasn’t a wizard.

"First, please accept this."

"What is it?"

Daruk opened a chest beside Turan’s room, revealing a vast amount of gold and silver coins.

Where had this impoverished city acquired such wealth?

"The citizens gathered it. The money from selling the furs you brought in and the surplus stone, we are merely returning what rightfully belongs to you."

"Use it for the city."

"If left here, it will simply become the property of House Mebern rather than the citizens. Please, do not refuse."

Turan looked at Daruk and realized, just like last time, that he wouldn’t back down.

The gold coins probably amounted to about eight hundred, and the silver coins around two thousand.

It was an absurdly large sum to carry in a backpack, but he had the Large-Capacity Pouch Meisa had given him.

After confirming that Turan had taken the money, Daruk smiled.

"May I escort you to the gates one last time?"

"By all means."

As Turan followed behind him, he sensed the presence outside through his Sacred Relic.

Beyond the city hall, in the plaza, stood thousands of people lined up...

At times like this, having a keen perception was more of a curse than a blessing.

This kind of thing would have been far more surprising and enjoyable if he had walked into it unprepared.

["Waaaaaaah----!"]

As expected, the moment he stepped outside, he was greeted by an overwhelming crowd, what seemed to be every single citizen of Kalamaf.

Most of them were the elderly and children, the survivors of the old Kalamaf that had once been reduced to ruins.

They were waving makeshift flags made with sticks and cloth, which had crude drawings of a golden eagle and a man like a coat of arms.

There were also embarrassing phrases like 'Long Live Great Turan' and 'Our Savior'.

"This is... a bit much."

"Please, don’t say that. Today, everyone has gathered to honor their great benefactor."

Turan swept his gaze over the faces staring at him.

Infinite gratitude, sadness about his departure, worship and praise...

Those reactions, sometimes positive and sometimes negative, were things he had seen over the past few months, but now that he thought he wouldn't see them anymore, they suddenly felt regrettable.

Did I... actually like being praised like this?'

Feeling embarrassed at discovering this childish side of himself, Turan increased his walking speed.

As he passed through the tightly packed crowd and neared the city gates, something caught his eye.

A group of citizens, who had been waiting for him, swiftly pulled away a white cloth, unveiling a statue about three meters tall.

A young man with a Golden Eagle perched at his side.

A carving of Turan himself.

"...When did you make this?"

"It was made in a rush, so it’s a little rough. But we plan to create a better one later. There’s one at each of the four city gates."

Daruk answered with a cheeky smile.

If he had ever walked through the gates on foot, he might have noticed. But since he always traveled on Bije, he had been oblivious.

Then again, even if he had seen something under construction, he would have assumed it was just another building, not a statue of himself.

"Wouldn’t House Mebern disapprove?"

"We got their permission in advance. They even welcomed the idea, saying that as long as the statue remains, it’ll serve as proof of how the city changed hands."

"...You all are still struggling to survive, though."

"Sometimes, there are things more important than mere survival. For the citizens of this city, honoring their savior is one of them."

["That’s right!"]

Several people in the crowd echoed Daruk’s words with a cheer.

Feeling increasingly embarrassed, Turan muttered a few protests before falling silent and walking past the statue, stepping beyond the city gates.

In the distance, the familiar rocky mountains of the Gray Zone stretched across the horizon.

He turned back one last time, thinking to deliver a grand farewell speech, but standing in front of that massive statue, he found himself at a loss for words.

"So... uh, I actually thought of a lot of impressive things to say, but I can’t seem to remember any of them now."

"What need is there for words? Your actions have already spoken far greater than any speech ever could."

Since when had this old man become so eloquent?

Turan opened his mouth as if to reply but then simply gave up. Instead, he instructed Bije to take off into the sky.

As the familiar sensation of weightlessness set in and the ground quickly receded below him, he glanced back one last time.

Among the crowd, he saw several citizens finally unable to hold back their tears.

And with that, the Savior of Kalamaf left the city behind.