Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 2 "Everyone, gather here."
On the mid-slope of the hill where the twilight was settling, the flock of sheep that had been grazing idly swarmed together at a single command from Turan.
They moved in perfect order, without the need for a barking sheepdog to lead the way or a shepherd's crook to nudge their flanks. It was the result of magic.
Based on what he had discovered over the past eight years, Turan knew magic possessed three major characteristics.
First, if one desired something intensely, that desire would be manifested at the cost of mana.
Second, stating that desire aloud—an incantation—made it easier to achieve, consuming less mana.
Third, the more difficult the wish, the more power it consumed—or it became outright impossible.
However, the definition of 'difficult' was never particularly clear.
Sometimes the magic was generous enough to make him wonder, Was this really something that could be granted so easily? Other times, it was so stingy he'd think, It can't even do this much?
It had been the same a few days ago when he fought the leopard magical beast. Even a command as simple as "Stop"—a condition far easier to achieve than instant death—hardly worked on the creature. And yet, he could easily control over a hundred ordinary sheep at once without any trouble.
In contrast, it was laughably simple to imbue his sling with the power and speed to crush the beast's skull, along with a blessing to ensure it never missed. Calculating the amount of power consumed at the time, Turan could have performed such an attack hundreds of times over...
By the time he had finished herding the sheep into the pen, lost in thought, the faint scent of blood wafted from the distance. It was just like when he had sensed Labus's death a few days prior.
However, according to his keen sense of smell, it wasn't the scent of human blood. It wasn't a sheep, nor a leopard...
'A wolf?'
The scent of blood from a wolf he had killed and butchered about a year ago felt exactly like this. As expected, it wasn't long before Keorn appeared, walking with the setting sun at his back and a dead wolf draped over his shoulders.
"Good evening, Turan. If it's alright, may I stay at your house tonight? I'd like to offer this wolf as payment for the lodging."
A wolf was quite a catch. The pelt could be sold to the villagers, and while the meat wasn't as good as livestock, it wasn't bad either. In other words, it was an excellent payment—far more than enough for a single night's stay.
Turan nodded. "There shouldn't be many wolves around here. How far did you go?"
Because Turan had patrolled the area for the past few years and attacked any wolf pack he saw, predators had long since been nearly wiped out in the vicinity. To begin with, Hisaril Hill was a desolate place where few animals lived.
"I found it while scouting near the Sky Mountains."
The Sky Mountains were located even further west of Hisaril Hill, at the western edge of the world. As the name suggested, they were a range that stretched up to the very heavens. Some called it the Great Barrier, and true to its name, it looked like a wall that no human could ever cross.
"It would take days just to reach the foothills..."
"For my pace, half a day was enough," Keorn replied.
Turan wasn't particularly surprised, as it was something he could easily achieve if he set his mind to it. He simply realized that this mage wasn't a braggart after all, and inwardly heightened his guard.
A short while later, the two sat around a campfire in front of the house, enjoying a dinner of wolf meat stew. Keorn whistled as he looked up at the sky.
"The stars here are truly bright."
"I heard from my mother that this hill is one of the highest lands in the world. Except for the Sky Mountains to the west, of course."
"Compared to that place, where wouldn't be high? Having visited today, I find myself admiring it all over again. Even the nobles would likely find it difficult to cross."
"I heard nobles possess power like gods," Turan remarked. "Can't they just leap over a mountain range?"
"Not all of them. Though the heads of the Great Families are indeed no different from gods..."
Keorn spoke boastfully, mentioning how he had once seen the head of the Arabion family crush a small hill with a mere gesture.
"Oh..."
Hearing that, Turan suddenly felt a sense of shame. He had occasionally indulged in the delusion that since his power was stronger than he expected, perhaps he was on the same level as a noble. Now that he heard this, compared to true nobles, his abilities were truly trivial.
"But doesn't it get lonely living here all by yourself?" Keorn asked.
"It does. But I'm used to it now."
"You should bring a wife from the village to live with you."
"What woman would want to live her whole life herding sheep in a place like this?"
"I think there would be quite a few young ladies who would love to live with a handsome young man like you."
Turan laughed awkwardly at Keorn's banter. When he was younger and visited the village, there were girls who followed him around. However, after his mother died and he came into conflict with the village, all interaction had been cut off. They, too, must have realized the reality: marrying Turan meant living as if exiled on this silent hill for the rest of their lives.
"Well, don't think of it that way. Who knows? A passing lady might come by and become your fated match."
Of course, considering that Keorn was the only traveler to visit in eighteen years, that was an impossible story. After exchanging a few more idle remarks, the two stared at the campfire in silence.
It was Turan who broke the silence first. "Why do you go this far?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't know what the village elder promised you, but with your skills, sir, I feel like you could earn much more money more comfortably."
In any village, if he sat down and declared he would protect the place—and demanded wealth and women in return—who would dare refuse? It was hundreds of times easier than eating dust all day to catch a single magical beast while staying at a shepherd's house. A man who could reach the Sky Mountains in half a day certainly didn't lack the ability.
Moreover, it wasn't as if the villagers were people who deserved such kindness. The reason Keorn was staying at Turan's house was that the village had tried to charge him an exorbitant lodging fee. If Turan had been in Keorn's position, he would have smashed the village buildings, taken the money, and left.
"They are pitiful people, aren't they?" Keorn said softly.
"In what way?"
"Living in fear day by day in a remote place like this, without even the protection of a mage."
The old knight sat across from Turan and explained in a kind tone, as if teaching a son. He said that the area around Hisaril Hill was only peaceful because it was relatively desolate, but down on the fertile lands, countless magical beasts roamed the mountains and fields, devouring people.
He believed that a mage, as one who inherited the power of the gods, should take pride in protecting the powerless commoners. Even though he no longer served a Great Family, he said he could not simply stand by and watch.
It was a story quite different from what Turan had heard from his mother. To her, weren't nobles the ones who oppressed and exploited, and knights merely the collaborators who worked under them?
Perhaps reading his look of doubt, the old knight grinned and held out a bowl of sheep's milk. "Well, not everyone thinks like me. If there are ten thousand people in the world, there are ten thousand different ways of thinking."
*
The next morning, Turan was lost in thought as he cleaned the sheep pen with a light gesture. He was still dwelling on the conversation from the previous night.
'Pride...'
Turan had been quite shocked. To think that a knight wasn't just a slave who succumbed to the power of a noble, but someone who could find fulfillment in protecting commoners of their own volition? Knowing that didn't make him want to go find a noble and beg for employment, but his heart opened up a little. If there were people like that, living under a noble might not be so bad...
'That aside, how do I tell him the magical beast is already dead?'
He had originally intended to let Keorn wander for a while before leaving, but he didn't want a good person like Keorn to waste his time. The problem was that several days had already passed since he threw the magical beast's corpse into the deep valley. Not only would it be a chore to find that rotting thing, but it would also bear clear traces of the magic Turan had used. If one were to look for a mage in this area, Turan would be the most suspicious person.
With a sigh, he waved his hand, and all the sheep manure piled in the pen flew into the backyard. Once it dried in the hill's arid climate, it would become good fuel for the fireplace.
Having finished the cleaning, he had a bit of time left. 'Maybe I should go look for the old gentleman...'
Keorn had mentioned he would be patrolling the area around the hill more intensively today. Turan focused his mind, floated his body up onto the roof, and chanted a spell.
"Human Search."
Simultaneously, Turan's cognitive abilities expanded rapidly. His vision, which could normally see up to a hundred meters, became sharp enough to distinguish wild grass growing kilometers away. His sense of smell and hearing amplified, capturing the rustling of insects' legs and the faint scent of formic acid from ants.
However, his amplified senses filtered out the noise and focused solely on finding a 'human.'
'Where... hmm?'
Turan whipped his head around at a sound. Through his amplified vision, he saw Keorn. The knight was panting, bleeding from his forehead and shoulder.
And across from him, the leopard magical beast Turan had killed a few days ago was roaring, dragging its half-rotten body forward.
*
'What kind of bastard did this...'
Keorn gnashed his teeth as he looked at the undead spirit of the magical beast.
Most living things instinctively crave life the moment they die, and mana—the Key of Omnipotence—tries to fulfill that master's will by forcibly reanimating the broken flesh. This was called an undead spirit. For this reason, it was a rule to either absorb or disperse the mana contained in a corpse after killing a mage or a magical beast.
However, whoever killed the leopard before him had either been ignorant of that rule or intentionally ignored it. Judging by the hole in its head, the killer was likely a mage skilled in projectile spells.
[■■■■—!!]
The roar erupted from rotten vocal cords, echoing like the cry of the damned.
"Take this!" Keorn shouted, an arrow of light firing from his hand.
It was an attack powerful enough to pierce steel armor, yet the moment it touched the shadows covering the leopard's body, the arrow dissipated helplessly. The mana surrounding the creature was far more powerful than Keorn's spell.
Having neutralized the attack, the leopard melted into the ground and instantly materialized from the shadow behind Keorn. He hurriedly raised both arms to defend, but hot blood spurted from his forearms where the sharp claws struck. It was only because his body had been tempered with mana that he survived; an ordinary person would have been torn apart.
'This... isn't something a knight can face. At least a lower noble would be needed—'
Even if an undead spirit became stronger through its grudge, if a seasoned knight like Keorn found it this difficult, it must have been a powerful beast when it was alive. Who on earth killed such a thing and just left it there?
[Grrrr—]
The undead spirit, sensing its prey was cornered, growled leisurely as it approached. The old knight sensed his impending death and gritted his teeth, preparing for a final, desperate counterattack. The moment the beast lunged, he would channel all his mana into his hand and strike...
But his tragic resolve was rendered moot as a single flash of light flew in from the distance.
It was so fast that it surpassed the sound barrier, making it impossible to hear it coming. A single round stone shattered the undead spirit's rotten head into pieces.
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