Shepherd Wizard Chapter 60

Translator: Pai_

Bloodline abilities are powerful on their own, but when properly combined, they become an even more terrifying force.

Just like how the head of House Arabion gathered clouds with the wind to unleash an even more powerful storm of lightning.

The magic unfolding before Turan's eyes was the same.

At first, it was flames. Then, through repeated refinement, it transformed into a golden radiance, taking the form of a beam of light.

As that golden halo gathered behind the silver-haired man's back, forming a massive aureole, the sailors recoiled in terror and shouted.

"A, a Wizard! Captain! First Mate!"

"Help us!"

In response to their cries, the two knights among the group reacted in completely opposite ways.

One bravely drew his sword to fight back, while the other swiftly turned and fled.

In truth, neither action held any real significance.

A whip of light shot out from the aureole, severing both the sword and the body of the knight who had charged in, along with the head of the one who had tried to run away.

The lack of blood or brain matter flowing from the severed parts made it clear just how searingly hot the whip had been.

"H-Huh?"

"They’re both... dead?"

"This can't be real."

Perhaps they lost their sense of reality, watching their trusted allies being slaughtered so effortlessly.

Frozen in shock, the sailors stood motionless, unable to even think of escaping, as dozens of golden whips split apart and streaked toward them.

Turan silently observed the almost dreamlike spectacle.

'Light and fire…'

He was certain he had heard of a house that wielded those two bloodline abilities before.

A prestigious family from the east of the Enril Desert, House Varaha.

That man was undoubtedly a noble from that distant eastern land.

There was no time to wonder why a noble from such a faraway place had appeared here. Realizing that only a few survivors remained, Turan quickly reached out his hand.

A massive surge of seawater erupted from the shore, enveloping the three remaining sailors.

"Ughk... huh?"

"We're alive!"

The seawater infused with Turan's magic collided with the incoming golden whips, generating a thick cloud of steam.

As a brief silence settled, Turan respectfully addressed his opponent.

"My apologies. I understand that you're angry, but could we speak for a moment-"

However, the Varaha noble didn't bother listening. Instead, another golden whip formed from the aureole and lashed toward Turan.

Not only was it terrifyingly fast, but each whip curved unpredictably as if it had a will of its own.

Seeing this, Turan frowned and accelerated his thought process, pulling more seawater to intercept the incoming whips one by one.

He soon realized that their trajectories were slightly different from how they appeared, likely an illusion caused by light scattering.

Had it not been for the magic detection ability of the Mimic Relic, he might have been completely deceived.

After barely deflecting all the attacks, an immense amount of steam blanketed the coastline.

‘Phew…’

Even though the exchange had been brief, the extreme concentration had given him a splitting headache.

Without the aid of Thought Acceleration, he might have taken a few hits.

Judging by how the attacks deliberately avoided his vital spots, it seemed the opponent had no real intention of killing him.

Just then, a powerful gust of wind swept in from somewhere, dispersing the steam that had shrouded the coastline.

The Varaha noble stood there, smirking triumphantly while holding a magical artifact unlike anything Turan had ever seen.

‘What is that?’

If he had to describe its shape, it looked like a stick with a piece of paper attached to the end.

Originally straight, it suddenly spread open into a nearly semicircular form. As the noble swung it, a fierce gust of wind erupted, pushing the flames forward.

“Tch.”

Clicking his tongue lightly, Turan responded with his own wind magic, scattering the incoming flames in all directions.

Had the fire been refined into a sphere or spear-like shape, it might have been a different story. But hastily conjured flames, strengthened by wind alone, could be dispersed in this manner.

The Varaha noble, startled by what he saw, asked in surprise,

“What the hell? You’re good with wind too? Are those your two bloodline abilities? No house like that should exist.”

Just as his opponent had done earlier, Turan chose not to answer the question and instead launched an attack by raising a massive wave.

The sheer force of it was enough to crush an average person to death. But that was merely a diversion.

The moment his opponent evaporated the wave with a wall of fire, a stone, previously loaded into Turan's slingshot, pierced through the steam and shot toward his abdomen.

With his vision obscured, he had no chance to react. It was the perfect attack.

Yet, just as the stone approached, it suddenly vanished with a strange ripple, as if an invisible beast had devoured the space around it.

‘What was that? A defensive magic artifact?’

Narrowing his eyes, Turan analyzed the nature of that defense, how it worked and how he might break through it.

Did it only work on physical projectiles? If that were the case, it was strange that it hadn't stopped the seawater, which was also tangible...

But before he could think further, his opponent suddenly raised both hands and dispersed the aureole that had been glowing behind him.

The bright, illuminated coastline darkened in an instant.

"I surrender, I surrender! I lost. Let’s end it here."

His lighthearted tone made it seem as if the fight had been nothing more than a playful scuffle.

Turan silently observed him before slowly tucking his slingshot back into his pouch.

"You were quite skilled, friend. I'm Solif. And you?"

"Turan."

There was no need for formalities after they had already exchanged blows.

But despite Turan’s curt response, Solif showed no sign of offense. Instead, he pointed to the steam still lingering in the sky.

"I've never seen a wizard control water like that before. You’re not from House Carmine, are you?"

"No."

For a wizard, being mistaken for someone from a house with an ability they didn’t possess was one of the highest compliments.

However, as Turan’s short replies made clear, he did not feel pleased by the praise.

He had just noticed three charred corpses, bodies he hadn't had time to protect as the battle had escalated.

"Hm? Oh, right. You were trying to save them, weren’t you? Were they your brothers or friends, by any chance...?"

"I had something I needed to ask them about. And dead men don’t talk."

"Ah."

Having apparently read the nuance that it was his fault everything was ruined, Solif rubbed his ear with an embarrassed expression.

"No, those bastards made me angry so I couldn't help it. When someone shows sincerity even after getting hit in the back of the head..."

It was understandable to be angry even from an outsider's perspective, but still, if you wanted something, shouldn't you have kept a few alive?

Especially considering that Solif himself had been searching for the Preah God Tribe ruins or whatever they were.

At that moment, Solif’s gaze shifted toward Bije, who had remained perched quietly beside Turan throughout the battle.

It was clear he was trying to change the subject to avoid the awkward situation.

"Ah, right! That Golden Eagle, it's a Magical Beast, right? The one they were selling in Komad City."

Bije often passed as an ordinary golden eagle because her mutation wasn’t too extreme, but there were small differences that set her apart from her kind.

Her eyes were notably sharper, she radiated a sense of intelligence, and her wings were slightly longer in proportion to her body.

These details were subtle enough that only someone familiar with her, like Turan, would usually notice.

Yet, Solif had recognized her at first glance.

"That's right."

"Knew it. You can’t fool my eyes. I spent an entire month trying to get my hands on that bird. How’d you manage to win it over?"

"Well, let's just say we were destined..."

At that moment, Turan was certain of his opponent’s identity.

The heir to House Varaha, the very man who had failed to earn Bije’s favor.

Given the circumstances, there was no doubt about it.

Of course, he didn't show that he had realized this.

After all, there must be reasons the heir to a great house would want to keep secret why he was wandering around alone.

Just then, Solif spread out all ten fingers toward Turan.

"Ten times."

"What?"

"I’ll pay ten times whatever you paid for it. How about it?"

"Even if you offered a hundred times, the answer would still be no. Bije wouldn’t want it either."

Seeing Bije, who had been leaning against Turan's side, nodding furiously in agreement, Solif let out a deep sigh.

"As expected. Damn it, what the hell am I lacking?"

That was something Turan was also extremely curious about.

Since Meisa had also been deemed worthy, it was clear that the criteria didn't apply solely to Turan. And yet, even Bije herself could only describe it as a feeling.

Regardless, though Solif gazed at Bije with clear regret and lingering attachment, he didn't push any further.

That was a huge relief.

If he had tried to take her by force, Turan might have had to kill the heir to House Varaha.

'But I still don’t get why he’s so obsessed with Bije.'

Though she was Turan's most precious family member, objectively speaking, while Bije was useful, she could hardly be considered a particularly powerful Magical Beast.

Though she was intelligent, she had no abilities like breathing fire or lightning or creating invisible blades.

Surely as the heir to House Varaha, he could obtain much more powerful Magical Beasts with his power and wealth.

Just as Turan was pondering this, Solif suddenly pointed toward the charred bodies of the sailors.

"So, what were you trying to ask those guys? If it’s something I know, I’ll answer for you. I've been around here for quite a while."

"I'm looking for a place where saltpeter is mined."

"Saltpeter? That white stone?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. They have that near my homeland too. If you’re buying into that ‘elixir of immortality’ rumor, though, it's bullshit. It’s mostly just used for coloring cured meat."

"I know. I just have a personal use for it."

Turan had no intention of telling Solif about the Spirit of Fire.

It was impossible to predict the scale of destruction a noble with the Sun Bloodline could unleash if they got their hands on it.

Solif stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again.

"So, you’re looking for a nearby source, huh? Then... Parayan Island is probably your best bet. If you head northeast, you should reach it in a few days."

Turan looked at him in surprise.

"How do you know that?"

"I’ve spent a lot of time scouting around this area. Until recently, I was traveling by ship, and I heard people mention that saltpeter is mined there. Never checked it out myself, though."

"Now that I think about it, didn’t you say you were searching for the ruins of the Preah God Tribe?"

That was all Turan said before cutting himself off, as if he wasn’t particularly interested.

If Solif was hunting for valuable artifacts, showing too much curiosity might make him wary.

But contrary to expectations, Solif seemed more than happy that Turan had taken an interest. His enthusiasm flared as he eagerly continued.

"That’s right! It’s a legend passed down across various islands in the South Sea, about a forgotten god who sank into the ocean and never returned after fighting against great sea serpents in ancient times. There’s no record of him in any scripture, he’s a truly lost god. Doesn’t that make you curious?"

The story was all too familiar, and for a brief moment, Turan nearly reached for the Mimic Relic hanging around his neck.

But the original owner of this relic had died thousands of kilometers to the north, in the North Sea...

'Wait.'

Thinking back, there was a legend in the North Sea as well.

A tale of an ancient magical mirror that connected the North Sea and the South Sea as one.

If the original owner of the Mimic Relic had fought in the South Sea, passed through that mirror, and ended up in the North Sea before perishing…

It was an idea that had come to him on the spot, yet it sounded incredibly plausible.

"So, are you looking for the remains of that god or any relics he left behind?"

"Nah, that’s pretty much impossible. It’s not like I’m a mermaid or anything. For now, I’m just trying to find the last place he stayed before heading into battle. Considering how much time has passed, any records left by the god himself are probably long gone. But at the very least, there should be some stories passed down, about what kind of god he was, which deities he was friendly or hostile with, that sort of thing."

Claiming that it was purely an academic pursuit, Solif chatted away in the same lighthearted manner as when he had been bluffing to the sailors earlier.

His story began with how he had first heard a tale about a drowned god at a southern port of the Enril Desert.

For the past year, he had traveled between ports along the South Sea and its many islands, gathering information.

Along the way, he sometimes befriended good sailors and, at other times, ended up in traps like today, having to fight his way out.

He had tried local dishes he had never seen before, battled mighty magical beasts, and even clashed with mermaid armies.

Most of the time, he disguised himself as a commoner, just as Turan had seen earlier. By doing so, he said, he had the chance to experience aspects of people’s lives that he would never have known as a noble. And that, to him, was enjoyable.

His adventures felt oddly similar to Turan’s own, making the conversation surprisingly engaging.

However, there was one thought that kept surfacing in Turan’s mind as he listened...

‘It feels like he’s more interested in traveling than actually finding clues about the god.’

As that thought lingered, Solif suddenly grumbled.

"But lately, the atmosphere around here has been awful. There aren't many decent sailors left, just trash like those guys earlier. Over the past few months, I've probably killed a few hundred of these pirate-scum-wannabes."

"At that rate, you’ve made a significant contribution to law enforcement in the South Sea."

Even if pirates were rampant in these waters, their numbers couldn’t possibly be in the hundreds of thousands. Even if there were only ten thousand, that meant Solif had personally killed one out of every few dozen.

"Well, I’m basically doing vigilante work on the side. Not that House Lavitas or the other noble houses would like it… but as long as I don’t get caught, who cares?"

"Doesn't your family say anything about you wandering around like this?"

"Of course I ran away from home. You can probably guess which house I belong to, but just in case, don’t let my family know I’m here. If you do, I will retaliate. Consider this your warning."

For a man who had to be at least twenty years older than Turan, calling it running away from home sounded ridiculously childish.

Seeming to feel Turan's gaze, Solif gave a somewhat embarrassed smile.

"Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s not just me running away because I felt suffocated. This is a journey to find myself."

"From what I can see, you seem to be right here in front of me."

"No, that's not what I mean... look at me. A perfect face, outstanding talent, born into a prestigious house - I'm living a life of the chosen, aren't I?"

"Uh…"

Due to the effects of magic, wizards generally had upright postures and flawless skin, often appearing more attractive than commoners.

But Solif… wasn’t exactly what one would call a handsome man.

Finding it awkward to respond, Turan hedged, but Solif seemed to take this as agreement and continued speaking as he pleased.

"But as I lived, I suddenly had this thought. That I wasn't truly myself, but rather a manufactured being."

"Manufactured?"

"Yes. I was strictly educated from a young age. You must behave like this, you must not do that... my personality, abilities, even small habits and ways of speaking, everything."

"That’s-"

Turan was about to say that wasn’t anything unusual.

Even noble daughters raised to become concubines, or wealthy merchants grooming their heirs, underwent similar upbringing.

Seeming to guess what words Turan had swallowed, Solif shook his head.

"Yeah, I know. That’s normal for the children of high-ranking families. But my house… went beyond that."

"How so?"

"My relationships, my challenges and achievements, even my passions, the things I became deeply interested in, none of it was truly my own. It all felt constructed, as if someone was carefully sculpting me looking down from above....."