Shepherd Wizard-Chapter 229

Translator: Pai_

The substance and force that form the foundation of the world.

The gods in the memories Turan had absorbed called it the essence.

It was a material that existed in itself, an intangible energy, each containing unique information, and something that could freely move between the three depending on one's will.

It was a substance like blood and flesh, a phenomenon like flame and lightning, and also something intangible like a spirit form, affection, or memory.

The method of handling it was not much different from how the wizards on the ground wielded their powers.

Because magic power was, in the end, just an imitation missing the force to draw out the substance from that essence.

‘To think being used to handling various powers through the Mimic Sacred Relic would come in handy here.’

Turan had such a thought as he melted away the arm of the grotesque monster created by Monarch using the alchemist’s highly acidic liquid.

Those who handled the essence could use all types of magic like someone born with a bloodline specialized in it.

And Turan was someone who had handled more diverse kinds of bloodline magic than anyone else in this world.

Of course, Monarch too could have dominated and controlled all kinds of bloodline bodies if he had wanted, but just a few clashes had made it clear he hadn't done so.

‘The problem is... the difference in power is bigger than I thought.’

What was required to handle more essence was presence.

It was about how the people of this world perceived you, and how intense their thoughts of you were.

The reason Turan had been able to establish himself as a Shepherd was also related to this.

Because their thoughts were conveyed into the sea of spirit forms and created a symbol combination of a Shepherd that had not existed before.

And Monarch had secured a massive amount of essence by collecting presence through the avatars he had once scattered across the world.

No, that power was still continuing to grow even now.

Through his expanded senses, Turan felt that people dying somewhere on the plains were supplying presence to the enemy before him.

Not killing but only severing the ankles of Keorn and the puppet tribes he had passed by had been a good decision.

Had they been killed there, Monarch’s power would have grown even stronger by now.

[Already tired? You were all excited and rampaging a moment ago!]

As Turan briefly slowed his offensive, Monarch, noticing it, created a mass of boulders and launched them, mixed within a giant whirlwind.

If a sandstorm had rocks instead of sand, it might look like this.

In response, Turan found the central axis of the whirlwind the opponent had created, shook it to collapse the formation, and at the same time conjured Light of Judgement to melt away the flying rocks coming at him.

It was an efficient defensive method that used less than half the power the opponent had exerted, but even that was proving difficult to maintain.

‘As expected, my presence is far too weak compared to his.’

For the head of the Great Noble House Parsha and the leader of the victorious faction in the world war to have a weak presence was no laughing matter.

But that was the reality.

To the people of the Reclaimed Land south of Lavitas and the core class of Kalamaf, and to most of the citizens, he would likely be worshiped like a god.

To Meisa, he was a beloved husband, and to people like Solif or Ashiz, a good friend.

Even in Varaha, he was regarded warily as a terrifying but at least allied figure.

But to the general public across the world, including the Gray Zone, Turan was simply someone so far above they could barely imagine his existence.

With that level of recognition, it was impossible to draw forth a strong presence.

In contrast, Monarch had scattered no fewer than hundreds of symbiotic hosts and used them to gather presence.

Many of them were revered by countless people around them as lifesavers and as precious as their own lives.

It was clear that this had not been a recent endeavor but something he had been doing for at least several centuries.

The immense presence he currently possessed simply couldn’t be explained otherwise.

If the process of converting that presence into ownership of essence had not begun relatively recently, then clearly, there would never have even been a contest to begin with.

Even in such a situation, the only reason Turan could barely hold his ground was thanks to the fame possessed by the gods he had absorbed.

Though it had greatly faded over the thousands of years since their disappearance, the presence of the Preah God Tribe, which once ruled the world, still remained in the form of faith, lending him strength.

On top of that, the significantly stronger spirit form also helped rapidly convert presence into control.

[Give it up, Turan! You already know, don’t you? No matter how hard you fight, you’re no match for me!]

"We won’t know that until the fight’s over."

[If you surrender now, I’ll guarantee you the status of a follower god. The only being other than myself allowed to handle the essence in this world-]

"Yeah, like hell you will."

Even as the two exchanged persuasion and mockery with words, they clashed relentlessly.

What had started as an ordinary battle involving conjuring fire and summoning water had now become something closer to a natural disaster.

With a single gesture, fire engulfed the sky, tidal waves rose, lightning crackled and scorched the earth into evaporation, and a snowstorm capable of covering an entire city raged.

The scale had grown so large because the two had become accustomed to handling the essence, apart from their mastery of magic.

The more they wielded the power, the more both of them learned how to manifest powerful phenomena with minimal amounts of essence.

If someone were to witness the two of them now, it would be clear that no word other than “god” could describe them.

What else could you call beings who controlled natural disasters with mere gestures, if not gods?

Amidst all this, Monarch, seeing a sea that had naturally formed during the course of the battle, floated up into the sky and stepped with his hooves onto empty air.

[I happened to leave something useful here. How convenient.]

With those words, something began to rise from the center of the sea, shockingly, a Great Sea Serpent.

Even compared to those mermaids who had transformed, this one was overwhelmingly massive, one of the ancient Great Sea Serpents that had once clashed with the distant Preah Gods in primordial times.

Pushing away one such serpent that lunged to bite him, Turan glared at Monarch.

"You... don’t tell me..."

[What, figured it out? That’s right. I purposely kept these guys from going down to the surface and gathered them here. No matter what, if even these things went down, the world really would’ve been destroyed. Believe it or not, I do have some attachment to this place. No need to thank me.]

From those words, tied together with the appearance of the Great Sea Serpent just now, Turan realized the reason for the return of the age of gods.

The mysterious deed Monarch had performed in Axum was to create a hole between the boundaries of the world and the material realm.

The essence that leaked through that gap was manifested in the forms of extinct races that had perished long ago.

Among the essence composed of all things that exist and have existed in the world, how could it be mere coincidence that only those beings came through?

It was clear Monarch had deliberately committed such an act to keep Turan occupied with matters on the surface, preventing him from turning his attention to Monarch.

He had gathered the essence of those ancient races that had died and returned to the sea of spirit forms long ago, and discharged them through the opened gap.

Considering that Turan hadn’t been able to reach him until after he had secured a massive amount of essence here, that plan had been quite successful.

Using his rage as fuel, Turan conjured a massive blaze that evaporated the sea, leaving the Great Sea Serpents without space to move, then growled at Monarch.

"You must know how many people died because of the shit you pulled."

While it was not easy to view the entire material world from the boundary of this world, it should have been possible to grasp the general trend, at least.

Countless people, at the very least, in the millions, had been reduced to meals for those races, or worse.

Considering that, unlike Earth, the total human population of this world likely numbered only in the tens of millions, it was a truly horrifying death toll.

However, the eyes of the deer magical beast, who had committed such horrific deeds, were nothing but bright and sparkling.

[I’m innocent. None of that would’ve happened if you hadn’t acted up in the first place, right? And I don’t really know what state the surface is in. I’ve been too busy just adjusting and controlling this power.]

"I will kill you, no matter what."

Muttering in a tone closer to mockery than excuse, Monarch gathered an enormous amount of electric charge into his antlers and fired it at Turan.

In response, Turan formed a metal pillar and embedded it into the ground that had formed on the spot to act as a lightning rod, clicking his tongue as he watched the attack melt away even the earth itself.

He could clearly feel just how vast the difference in power between them was.

‘If I could somehow gain just a little more strength...’

At the moment that thought occurred to him, he recalled there was one more thing he could do with the essence.

If it could extend and transform into something else, why did that transformation have to take place outside?

After all, even his own body was merely something formed by the transformation of essence.

The idea came to him from the memory of standing atop the Sky Mountain Range long ago and being disassembled after looking beyond the boundary.

At that time, Turan had definitely dispersed into parts of the essence and then been reassembled.

‘Let’s see.’

The moment the thought arose, its realization followed almost simultaneously.

His body, which had maintained a human form, suddenly swelled up massively.

Into a larger physique, a faster and stronger physical structure.

In the place where Turan had just been, a giant golden eagle now stood.

-Turan! You transformed just like me! So cool!

-Bije?

Only then did Turan recall that Bije had been asleep inside his body all along.

Using her clever mind, she had realized this was a battle she couldn't help in and had hidden herself quietly to avoid interfering, now her consciousness had intervened during the transformation.

Even as he thought of this, Turan flapped the massive wings and charged straight at Monarch.

The once massive, but now dwarfed face and torso of the deer were seized by his two talons.

[Aaaargh! Let- let go of me!]

As befitting a mythical-level magical beast- no, perhaps one who had lived for thousands of years and accumulated more magic power than most Great House family heads, Monarch’s physical strength was indeed formidable. However, the current Turan, or more precisely, the strength of the golden eagle he had transformed into, was even greater.

Monarch’s bodily strength was ultimately rooted in magic power, but this golden eagle was a being forged from the most purified essence itself.

Monarch attempted to resist by deploying all kinds of magic, just as he had earlier, but even as Turan wildly slashed with his talons and pecked with his beak, he simultaneously cast counter-magic to cancel out the attacks.

-Hmph! You bad guy! Die! Die!

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Turan but Bije who was performing all of these physical actions.

Compared to Turan, who had never taken the form of a golden eagle before, Bije was far more skilled at handling such a body.

Each time she chirped in her cute voice, sharp talons and beak tore deep chunks of flesh from the deer’s torso.

Monarch, having long since grown accustomed to restoring his body by manipulating essence, healed almost as quickly as he was injured, but naturally, it went without saying that this led to a loss in power.

What had originally been a fight between one man and one beast had now become a battle between two beasts.

Strictly speaking, it was a domain of human-bird unison, where one side controlled the magic and the other the body.

There was no need to even question which was more efficient: having one person control both movement and magic, or having one being move the body while the other cast the spells.

[Ugh……]

How long had the beating gone on like that?

At last, Monarch, having mastered the method of refining his physical body with essence, began reconstructing himself in kind.

His relative ease with the process was likely because, as a former biologist, he was already familiar with magic involving flesh and blood.

As expected from someone like Monarch, who could control even more power, the size of the deer also became monstrously massive.

Compared to Turan, who had transformed into a golden eagle with a wingspan of about eighty meters, the creature’s head alone stood over one hundred meters tall when upright.

[Get lost!]

As the bleeding deer swung its now even larger antlers, Bije swiftly dodged with an agile twist of her body.

With this level of size difference, it would be difficult to overpower him in close combat like before.

Clicking his tongue in frustration, Turan began thinking over new strategies.

‘Still, I managed to close the gap quite a bit during that beating. The power difference isn’t completely gone yet, but…’

[Thanks for showing me a great idea. Guess I should return the favor.]

Then, with a mocking tone, Monarch gestured, and something appeared as a spatial rift tore open like ripped fabric.

It was none other than Ymir and the other false gods who had relentlessly attacked Turan's group back in the mist zone.

‘The fact that he summoned them… I see. He’s completely given up on keeping Meisa and Solif in check.’

The power of the false gods, who kept reappearing even after being killed multiple times, also naturally originated from Monarch.

Now, he was not only focusing the bits of essence used to create them on this battle, but even bringing the false gods here to try to gain an edge.

Taking advantage of that moment, Turan peered into the mist zone closest to the material world and let out a breath of relief.

Though Meisa, Solif, and the noble followers under them were quite injured, none appeared to be in mortal danger.

[Everyone, attack that bastard! Distract him, even a little!]

[…Understood.]

[This won’t be easy.]

At Monarch’s command, the false gods replied with somewhat displeased attitudes and launched their attacks.

Turan, intending to sweep them away with a simple spell, quickly realized that they had gained, however small, the right to wield essence.

That must have been granted by Monarch.

Though they were weak, they were once revered as gods, and now that they had obtained the right to use essence, they were capable of utilizing it.

However, that didn’t mean they posed a serious threat to Turan.

Even if they weren’t weak, they couldn’t compare to someone who had absorbed the spirit forms of more than ten great gods and could now wield a vast amount of essence.

[Kuaaahhh!]

[Damn it, he’s too strong!]

[Give us more power too!]

The false gods, scorched by lightning storms and ripped apart by spatial distortions, cried out to Monarch for help as they used up essence to regenerate their bodies.

But standing behind them, Monarch only tilted his massive deer head arrogantly and shouted at them.

[Quit whining and keep attacking.]

Seeing him act like that when he should be pleading with them instead made it obvious that some kind of master-servant relationship had formed between them.

Perhaps something like a vassal contract had been established using the power of a Lawmaker.

As he considered this, Turan frowned as he noticed Monarch’s magic, launched through the cover of the false gods, was becoming more refined.

After continued combat, it seemed he was starting to recall the techniques he had practiced long ago.

Turan struck Ymir’s axe with his beak, tore open his neck, and then flew higher, freezing the flames burning on his wings with icy wind.

Since most of the false gods were clumsy in flight, only a few of Aravion lineage were able to follow.

[You-]

Ignoring the voice shouting behind him, Turan looked ahead into the vast, snow-white world.

The boundary of the world, once filled with unshaped essence.

Once resembling a pure white crystal, it now looked more like a fragile eggshell, thin and ready to shatter at any moment.

It was the result of Turan and Monarch, two transcendent beings, pulling in increasingly large amounts of essence through the sheer force of their overwhelming presence.

‘What happens if this disappears completely?’

That sudden question led Turan to glance around him.

Surely, the sea of spirit forms that once surrounded their world, the veil made of essence, wasn’t there without purpose.

If all of it were to be absorbed into the interior of a single being, what would happen then? It was impossible to even begin guessing.

Even within the knowledge of the gods he had absorbed, there was no information about that.

Long ago, after their lifespans ended, they had merely spent thousands of years drifting through this sea of spirit forms, passing time by discussing various topics among themselves.

In the process, they may have become more mentally mature than the fallen gods who ran wild on the surface, but they had not been able to conduct deeper research into the secrets of this power.

[Huh.]

At that moment, a voice of confusion rang out from behind, Monarch’s.

Turning his head to see what had happened, Turan didn’t make a sound, but felt the same kind of reaction.

[Kuaaaah!]

[◇○◇■□■■■-!]

A bizarre lifeform roared and lunged at Monarch. It had two necks with a dog’s head on one and a cat’s on the other, wings sprouting from its back, and four legs attached to its torso.

It looked like some kind of experimental creature Monarch might have created.

‘What? Did he get betrayed by his own experiment?’

That thought briefly crossed Turan’s mind, but he soon realized that the thing was far too alien to be dismissed as just another experiment.

Through the additional sense he had gained upon acquiring control, he could see that the creature was not based on essence.

In other words, it had not been born in this world.

“No way-”

Turning his head, Turan understood where it had come from.

From the gray tree branches that had once guided them to Earth, extending here and there starting from their world.

And now, from one of those branches, several more creatures like it were surging through.

*****

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