Shepherd Wizard

Translator: Pai_

On a dark night, a boy ran through the forest.

In his arms, he held his baby sister who had not yet even been weaned.

"Haah, hah... ugh!"

The boy, relying on the faint moonlight to take his steps, tripped over a tree root he hadn’t seen and fell.

Even as he did, the best he could do was to twist his body mid-fall so that he wouldn’t crush the little sister in his arms.

“Ahh...”

Was his ankle broken?

A searing pain, as if burning or struck by lightning, spread through him and made it impossible to get up.

As he sat collapsed, before long, clinking sounds came from behind along with figures carrying torches and swords.

They were vampire knights with red eyes and prominent fangs.

“Damn, he runs fast like a filthy rat.”

“Well, it’s probably because he’s the demon from the prophecy. End him quickly.”

A year ago, the advisor of the largest kingdom in the world made a prophecy.

That a human child soon to be born would cause the king to lose his eternal life and noble bloodlines to be trampled by slaves.

Their world had no sun, and vampires ruled as nobles, raising humans as both food and slaves.

That prophecy, in essence, meant the end of their world.

Furious, the king ordered his subordinates to kill all young human slaves throughout the land.

Most people gave up their children without resistance, but some, like the boy’s parents, refused and fled the farm they had lived on.

A chase ensued for weeks, and eventually, the boy’s parents were caught by vampire knights and killed.

Leaving only him and his still-infant sister behind.

The vampire knights, with their prey as good as caught, spoke leisurely among themselves.

“What should we do with this one? He’s too old for the demon in the prophecy.”

“There’s not enough food left after this hunt. Just drain some blood from the boy and let him live. Kill the baby.”

The boy hugged his baby sister tighter, unwilling to give her up.

He could clearly feel her squirming uncomfortably in his arms.

‘Please, help me.’

Even as he said those words, he knew there was no one to help.

In this world, the rulers were those cruel vampires, and humans were nothing more than their slaves.

Since the clouds of the abyss had covered the skies and blocked out the sunlight from the earth, any human with the strength in body or mind to resist had been the first to be drained or enslaved.

As he despaired, a voice he had never heard before reached him.

[Do you need power?]

A strange voice that sounded like it could belong to a young man a few years older than him, or perhaps a hundred-year-old elder.

It didn’t feel like someone was speaking to him directly, but rather as if it came from within himself.

The question of what this presence was only lingered for a moment, as the boy saw his enemies approaching with heavy steps.

Do I need power?

What a pointless question.

“Yes.”

[I shall give it to you, in exchange for your soul. Will you accept it?]

With those words, the boy instinctively understood what it meant to offer his soul to the voice.

It meant that all of his future life, and even after death, would belong to the owner of that voice.

After a fleeting moment of hesitation, the boy answered.

“...I want it.”

[Now that you are within my flock, I shall protect you accordingly.]

With those words, an unknown power and the knowledge to wield it flowed into the boy’s mind.

The boy, in a daze, stretched out his hand toward the approaching vampire knights and murmured,

“...O Shepherd of the lambs, grant me light to punish them.”

A brilliant light rose from the boy’s hand.

It was the light of the sun, which had not appeared in the world for centuries since the clouds of the abyss had covered the skies, and which annihilated all vampires.

“This is-”

“Kuaaaargh!”

Vampire knights, capable of effortlessly tearing apart thousands of strong men, could do nothing before that light and only burned helplessly.

Because the sun was the force that rightfully returned their vile lives to where they belonged.

“Ah...”

The Shepherd's first lamb realized with a shiver that the power he had gained was not just to save his little sister.

As the prophecy foretold, the vampire king would meet his end because of a newborn child.

'One more added.'

Turan, who was drifting through the void beyond the world, felt another contract had been formed within himself.

A boy who had taken his authority had, in return, offered up his soul.

The contract just now was one he was quite pleased with.

The boy's devotion, offering even his own soul to protect his younger sister in an extreme situation, aligned with the values Turan pursued.

Because of that, instead of using the soul he had just acquired to control the boy at will, Turan quietly absorbed it into his inner being.

Over time, as he slowly melted it down, it would become a resource to elevate his stature.

Having finished organizing within, he opened his eyes to find that the empty void still stretched out in all directions.

A chaotic space where, if he were to be thrown aimlessly, Turan himself could not be certain of surviving.

The only thing protecting him here was the gray branch beneath his feet.

Riding upon it, Turan slowly moved toward the next world.

'Disgustingly slow, seriously...'

Having devoured all the power of the bird that devours the moon and forged a new soul, he could now recognize that he had finally created a true soul, just like beings from other worlds, and even more, its stature was exceptionally high.

The problem was that because of this elevated stature, the speed at which he traveled through the corridor had become absurdly slow.

If crossing one corridor previously took a few minutes to hours, it now took at least several dozen to hundreds of days.

Considering his power hadn’t grown by dozens or hundreds of times, it seemed the weight of the soul was far heavier than that of a spirit form, to the point of inefficiency.

Or perhaps the fusion of a fundamental life-form and a soul followed a far more complex system.

In any case, he now clearly understood why the bird that devours the moon, who possessed an even greater soul, had taken nearly a hundred years to invade the Cradle.

If he himself was already like this, then if one had to go even slower and farther, it would certainly take that long.

Thanks to that, he had no concerns about beings stronger than them, like the so-called Queen of Beasts, invading the Cradle.

If they were stronger than he was now, it would truly take tens of thousands of years to cross over, making it an utterly unprofitable endeavor even for transcendent beings who lived eternal lives.

Now, all that remained for Turan was to return fully to the Cradle.

And along the way, he had started something on the side, just like now, communicating and forming contracts with mortals inside closed worlds he passed through, those whose spiritual wavelengths resonated with his own, sharing his power through such contracts.

The terms of the trade were simple.

The contractor must offer their complete soul, not just a portion of power contained within it.

Replacing it with someone else's was impossible; only their own, wholly, could be used.

And in exchange for offering their everything, what they received was a processed form of the Cradle world’s magic power, the “Key of Omnipotence.”

Considering that most transcendent beings could only bestow power they already controlled, the versatility of his gift was incomparable.

A single being could grant holy sunlight, deadly poison, blazing fire, and piercing frost alike.

Those whose wavelengths matched and received his power came from all walks of life.

A boy protecting his sister in a world of vampires, a head of an orphanage resisting a gang kidnapping children, a lord who took up a sword to save the city he loved.

Those who borrowed Turan's strength and saved what they held dear soon spread his divine name, “Shepherd of the Lambs”, to others.

Thanks to them, he was able to create followers in several closed worlds he passed through, thus exerting influence.

Moreover, the power of the souls thus acquired gave him yet another possibility.

He learned how to handle “concepts” just like other-world transcendent beings.

Originally, the fire conjured by the ascended of the Cradle, no matter how powerful, was still just fire; the cold, no matter how freezing, was still just cold.

They could only use the power contained within to make it burn better or not go out, mere tricks.

However, he could now infuse phenomena with peculiar concepts by blending in the power of newly obtained souls.

Like flames that only burn the living, or cold that could freeze even time itself.

Most likely, the power of the bird that devours the moon, which had hindered his recovery, was of such a nature.

Thus, while progressing for what may have been months or years, Turan gradually became immersed in handling this new power.

Of course, during that time, he also kept track of the actions of his contractors.

One of the changes brought about by the elevation of his stature upon acquiring souls was the vast expansion of his mental capacity.

Now he could perform complex calculations in his head, sing a song, and write an entire book all at the same time.

Practicing magic while simultaneously analyzing what dozens of his contractors were doing was no difficult feat.

Fortunately, most of the initial contractors were doing fine, but among those who had been introduced to him by the first group, there were quite a few who tried to use his power for foul purposes.

Whenever that happened, Turan manipulated their souls and punished them.

Those whose crimes were relatively minor were given a proper dose of pain and discipline, while the ones who were beyond redemption simply had their lives taken.

Because of this, some people began to hesitate about forming contracts with the “Shepherd of the Lambs”, but he didn’t care, since he never intended to accept the souls of those who weren’t pure anyway.

This was, in a sense, just a kind of side income.

Even while policing his contractors and training his new powers, there were times he simply stared blankly into the void.

‘I miss them.’

Meisa, Luska, Solif, Ashiz...

The faces of his wife, his son, and his friends floated up from beyond the distant empty void, then faded away.

To wait idly and do nothing in the empty void for months or even years, any ordinary person would have long gone mad.

He thought that if he hadn’t created contractors and observed their lives, it might have been a truly horrific time.

Even the occasional idle chatter with Bije had been quite helpful.

And so, enduring the boredom, his journey went on for over a decade.

Finally, when Turan arrived in a world about two steps removed from the Cradle, he saw Meisa waiting to greet him.

“Turan!”

“Meisa?”

Before he could even ask how she got there, she rushed up to him, embraced him, and kissed him.

Feeling the warmth and sweetness he hadn’t experienced in years, Turan gently closed his eyes.

“You knew and came looking for me?”

“The rumors were everywhere. The Shepherd of the Lambs was spreading his faith, they said.”

“Ah-ha...”

Turan gave an awkward expression at her gaze, which seemed to say, “If it was over, why were you wasting time doing other things?”

A moment later, when he explained why he had been delayed, Meisa apologized, saying it was unfair of her to nag someone who had come such a hard way.

“It’s fine. It’s true I was late. Is everyone else doing well?”

“They’re all busy in their own ways. So, how long will it take to return from here?”

“Probably a few months.”

Fortunately, the worlds adjacent to the Cradle didn’t have particularly long corridors, so it seemed he’d be able to return quickly.

“Then do you want to go ahead first?”

“Why would I?”

“Well...”

There was no reason Meisa should spend several months buried in the void when it would only take her a few hours at most to cross.

Especially when, unlike Turan, she couldn’t even observe the lives of contractors to pass the time.

To that, Meisa snorted as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Don’t say such stupid things. Why would I get bored being with you? Are you saying you’re bored with me?”

“Of course not.”

Realizing that it really was a foolish thing to say, Turan let out a hearty laugh and embraced Meisa as he threw himself into the corridor.

As they slowly moved toward the Cradle, they soothed the longing that had built up over their long separation.

That even Ascended Beings who handle essences, and even divine beings who transcend that and extend their authority across multiple worlds, could still be entangled in something as base as lust, how ridiculous that was.

Of course, it wasn’t as if they had spent all that time merely tangled together like beasts.

They could have, if they had wanted to, but they had enough self-control not to.

They discussed the new power Turan had obtained through souls and debated how he should treat his contractors.

“Should I try to obtain a soul too?”

“It would be nice, but I’m not really sure how you’d go about getting one.”

Unlike Turan, who had consumed the power of the bird that devours the moon and digested its soul to make it his own, Meisa didn’t have such a transcendent being to devour.

In fact, it was highly unlikely one would appear in the future.

Rumors were already spreading across many worlds that the bird that devours the moon, that vicious doomsday bird, had met its end in some remote world.

If she truly wanted it, she could attempt to slowly form a soul over a very long period by raising Earthlings who possessed souls and consuming them freely...

“Don’t joke around. You’d freak out if I actually said I’d do that.”

“Well, yeah, I would.”

Turan chuckled as he replied to Meisa’s scolding.

If she really were the type to covet the souls of countless humans for the sake of power, he wouldn't have brought it up in the first place.

“Or, there’s a second option. I could give you part of my soul.”

“Wouldn’t that be bad for you?”

“I can keep replenishing my power anyway.”

As long as the dozens of contractors he had formed while returning to the Cradle continued to spread his faith and multiply like offspring, Turan’s soul would only grow stronger.

Even if he parted with a piece, it would recover in time.

Besides, there were no imminent enemies coming to invade this place now, so there was no need to rush anything.

“Still, I feel kind of bad...”

“What’s there to feel bad about? I actually like the idea.”

Meisa burst into a laugh as she looked at Turan, who spoke with a smile, saying that literally sharing one’s soul with one’s partner, wasn’t that romantic?

***

“You’re back, Father.”

“You’ve done well.”

A few months later, when Turan finally returned to the borders of the Cradle, the first to greet him was Luska.

He also spoke with Solif, Ashiz, and the other Ascended Beings, catching up on recent events, though in truth, he already knew much of it from Meisa.

“You had a daughter, didn’t you?”

“That’s how it turned out. She’s already three years old. Hasn’t even seen her godfather’s face yet.”

“Gotta go see her right away.”

Solif, grumbling as usual, didn’t seem all that different despite now being a father.

Well, if becoming a parent was enough to make someone mature, he would’ve changed long ago.

There was more news, Luska had finally received a positive sign from Mila after decades of courtship, Ashiz had been rejected again, and other such stories. As they chatted, Turan turned his gaze to the barrier between the material world and the border.

“Wasn’t this something Luska put together?”

“We all helped, but, well... as you can see...”

The current world barrier had been formed using the scattered essence from when Turan absorbed the original barrier that once existed.

Perhaps because it had been roughly handled by those who weren’t the original owner, it was now far more unstable, if it used to be a solid form, it now looked like rippling waves.

Turan reached out and instantly absorbed and erased the unstable world barrier.

Whether it was thanks to the presence he had built over more than ten years or the power of souls, this much was well within his control now.

“Oh...”

“If you erase that, won’t they be able to see us from below?”

“It just looks like shadows, so it’s fine, uncle.”

As Solif and Luska pointed out, the thought that their forms were reflected on the surface below made it clear that it was better to deal with it quickly.

Especially since the last invasion had already left people uneasy.

Turan immediately released the essence he had absorbed and reformed the world barrier.

It was no longer a wall made purely of essence like a barrier, as it had been before.

The result, created by mixing the power obtained from absorbing the bird that devours the moon with the strength digested from the souls of various contractors, and then imbuing it with conceptual meaning.

A barrier shaped like a fence forged from starlight surrounded the world, and a shepherd, holding a staff in one hand and a slingshot in the other, with a golden eagle perched on his shoulder, patrolled the perimeter.

“It’s done.”

With this guardian, the Shepherd of the World, now standing watch, the Ascended Beings would no longer need to take turns patrolling the borders as they once had.

When this was announced, everyone rejoiced.

After all, wandering around a desolate place in constant vigilance was a boring task.

Once the final preparations were complete, Turan and the other Ascended Beings chose not to move directly to the royal palace of Kalamaf but instead to descend from the sky as if descending from the heavens.

It was Ashiz’s idea.

“This is a bit flashy.”

“Well, people have been trying so hard to find you. This is the least we can do in return. Isn’t this way cooler than just popping in?”

At Meisa’s words, Turan could only shrug his shoulders in response.

He couldn’t argue against the intent of bringing joy to those who had searched so desperately for his missing self.

A moment later, a dozen Ascended Beings descended slowly into the plaza in front of Kalamaf’s royal palace.

Soon, tens of thousands, perhaps millions, of people stood in orderly rows, singing.

Because the crowd was so vast and spread out, the collective voice was more like noise, but no one cared.

What mattered was only the meaning carried within.

[The Savior of the world, born upon Hisaril Hill, the Shepherd of the Lambs.

He saved us who were lost; His grace is boundless.

He shields us from evil and covers the world with black wings.

Our holy Lord, may You be praised forever!]

The voices of the lambs praising their Shepherd echoed far and wide.

< Author's Note >

Hello, this is Watermelon Peach.

Somehow, I’ve completed my third story and come to write the final note.

I mentioned after finishing my last work that there were a lot of ups and downs, but I think even more things happened this time around.

Looking back, I may have felt an overwhelming sense of pressure due to the unexpected level of popularity this series gained early on, more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

Even finishing late like this is something I truly feel ashamed of, so I sincerely apologize once again...

Honestly, from the early planning stages, this story was filled with highly experimental elements, and many of them were executed.

Like thinking it was a fantasy world, only to reveal it was a game world... but then plot-twisting again to show it wasn’t a game world after all.

There were times I wondered if maybe I should’ve just cut all of that and gone with a straightforward, classic fantasy feel instead...

But if I had done that, I would’ve had to throw out all of my original plans, and things would’ve gone completely off-track, so I suppose it would've ended up a mess.

To be honest, there are quite a few parts I regret or would like to revise.

This part went too far, that part dragged on too long, another part felt completely forced...

To offer a bit of an excuse, the way it feels when you're writing and when you go back and read it later can be totally different. And with the pressure of a tight schedule, there were definitely moments where I couldn’t think things through deeply.

Many of you offered great advice, but due to some minor mental health struggles, I couldn’t build up a buffer and was constantly writing live updates.

Regardless, it would be disrespectful to those who enjoyed the story to go back and heavily revise something that’s already finished.

All I can say is that I’ll take the results and lessons from this story and work to become a better writer next time.

After a short break, I plan to begin posting side stories starting next Monday.

Currently, I’m thinking of covering the story of how Turan’s parents met and parted, the era when the Preah God Tribe first appeared, and an “IF” story where Turan, whose mother couldn’t escape, was raised as a noble of House Zahar.

If there’s any side story you’d like to see, feel free to leave it in the comments, and I’ll refer to it when writing.

Thank you to everyone who stayed with Turan on his long journey, and with that, I’ll bring this to a close.

Since this was the longest piece I’ve written so far, I’m quite worn out, so I think I’ll need a little rest before starting the next one.

As always, thank you so, so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*****

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