Translator: Pai_

It was eight years ago, in the winter when Turan turned ten, that he awakened to the power of magic.

While his mother was out with the sheep, just as he thought about lighting a fire, flames suddenly burst forth from the stove.

It wasn’t long before Turan realized he could accomplish incredible things with just his thoughts.

Lifting objects, igniting flames, summoning gusts of wind, or even creating invisible walls…

“Mom, look at this! The firewood is flying!”

That evening, Turan eagerly showed off his abilities to his mother, who had returned home with the sheep and their shepherd dog.

However, his mother neither marveled at nor rejoiced in her son’s newfound abilities. She simply reached out to grab the floating firewood with a face filled with resignation and despair.

'Turan, let's make a promise. Promise that you won't use that power carelessly from now on. Especially never in front of other people.'

'Why?'

Turan, who was always a well-behaved child and listened to his mother, couldn’t help but pout at the demand to suppress such an fascinating and fun power.

His mother warmed up a cup of sheep’s milk for him and, for the first time, told him about the world far below their hill.

'Down below the hill, there are people called nobles.'

According to his mother, nobles were the descendants of the Preah God Tribe, who descended to the world long ago to save humanity.

These nobles inherited powerful magical abilities from their ancestors, ruling as both protectors and sovereigns over mankind.

Among them, those born from the mingling of noble and human bloodlines were called knights. Knights, too, inherited magical powers like the nobles, but their abilities were weaker, so they were treated as servants.

His mother explained that Turan had inherited the power of a knight from his father. She warned him that if he ever descended the mountain, evil nobles would capture him and force him into servitude.

'If nobles are shepherds like us, then knights are like the dogs those shepherds raise. Sometimes they might treat them like family and shower them with affection... but they can also sell them off or sacrifice them whenever necessary.'

Although nobles had everything, they constantly fought among themselves for even more. And in these conflicts, it was often the knights who were sacrificed.

It was like a shepherd sending their dog to fight wolves while standing safely behind, throwing stones from a distance.

As she explained this, her face carried a desolation Turan had never seen before in his life.

'Turan, don’t you want to live with Mom for a long, long time?'

'Yeah.'

'Then you have to hide that power. Otherwise, bad nobles will come and take you away. And you’ll never see me again.'

'Okay, I promise! I won’t use it in front of anyone!'

And so, eight years had passed since Turan confidently made that promise.

Even after his mother fell ill and died, Turan continued living on one side of Hisaril Hill, herding sheep.

Avoiding the nobles who might one day come looking for him. Refusing to become their shepherd dog.

* * *

"What idiots."

Turan frowned as he shut the door to his cabin.

Early that morning, before the sun had even risen, the young men of the village had come to confront him about Labus’s death a few days ago.

Although the signs of an attack by a leopard-like magical beast were clear to anyone, they insisted that Turan must have killed the old man and then thrown him to the beast as bait, accusing him with absurd claims.

It wasn’t hard to guess why they were doing this.

Though it was clearly evident that he had been attacked by a Leopard Magical Beast, they tried to pin an unreasonable accusation on him, claiming that Turan must have harmed the old man and thrown him to the Magical Beast as food.

Of course, Turan had soundly beaten up the young men who came to pick a fight and chased them away.

They would probably use this incident as an excuse to lower the value of goods or tamper with items the next time Turan went down to the village for barter.

If that happened, Turan would simply smack a few of those villagers to bring them to their senses and ensure a fair deal.

It had already happened several times before and was likely to happen again, an annoying cycle he had grown accustomed to.

While lost in thought for a brief moment, someone suddenly knocked on the door with a loud bang bang.

Turan let out a deep sigh before opening the door and growling.

"Who the hell is it now? Do you have a death wish?"

Could their memory really be so poor that they had forgotten the lesson he had taught them just a little while ago?

However, the person standing beyond the door was not one of the young villagers who had come earlier.

It was a man, seemingly in his mid-to-late forties, wearing a dust-covered cloak. With an awkward smile, the man spoke.

"Ah... pardon me, young friend. I'm traveling and was wondering if I could impose on you for a while, but it seems I've come at a bad time."

A traveler? For the first time in his eighteen years of life, Turan was encountering such a person, and for a moment, his mind froze.

To think there was someone leisurely enough to visit such a desolate countryside as this.

Turan, who had stiffened momentarily, soon stepped aside from the door and made way for the man to enter.

"No, not at all. Please come in. It’s just that some unpleasant people had been here a moment ago."

The formal tone Turan used, learned long ago from his mother for addressing elders, felt strangely unfamiliar on his tongue.

When was the last time he had spoken like this?

It must have been before he discovered that everyone in the village, including Labus and the other elders, were nothing but assholes, so it had indeed been a long time.

“If you'll excuse me, then.”

Truthfully, if Turan had wanted to keep his identity hidden, he should have quickly driven off a stranger like this. However, he chose to let the man in.

It had been so long since Turan had spoken with someone without hostility that he was eager for even a brief, peaceful conversation.

And besides, if the man turned out to be a villain with bad intentions, Turan was confident he could handle him.

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Not yet."

"I haven’t eaten either. So why don't you join me?”

Turan seated the traveler at the table and set out freshly churned sheep's milk, cheese, porridge made from dried grain brought from the village, a lump of rock salt, and dried lamb jerky.

Unless one was on the brink of starvation, one should treat guests with utmost hospitality, and then guests wouldn't dare think of harming the host.

This, too, was etiquette his mother had taught him.

"This is such a poor place, so I don't have much to offer."

"What are you talking about? This is a feast! Thank you for the meal."

It didn’t seem like empty words, as the man ate the food Turan had prepared with great enthusiasm, as though he hadn’t eaten in days.

Even while eating, the man displayed proper table manners, something Turan had never seen from the villagers.

He didn’t talk while chewing his food, and he slightly turned his head away when drinking, among other polite gestures.

Perhaps the traveler noticed something similar about Turan, for after taking a sip of the sheep’s milk, he offered a kind remark.

"You seem to know basic table manners. Your parents must have taught you well."

"I learned from my mother."

Sensing something from the fact that Turan didn’t mention his father, the traveler hesitated briefly before continuing.

"And… is your mother in the village? It doesn’t seem like you live together, judging by the house."

He must have noticed that there was only one bed in the house.

Turan nodded and replied in a calm tone.

"She passed away from illness a few years ago."

The traveler briefly looked troubled before bowing his head and making a gesture with one hand, a gesture Turan had never seen in his life.

"I offer my condolences. Having raised such a fine young man as yourself, she must surely be dwelling in the celestial palace with the gods."

"I hope so as well."

Back when he had first lost his mother, simply thinking of her had been enough to ruin his appetite and make him cry all day long.

To be able to speak about it with a smile on his face, was it because Turan had grown into an adult? Or had the passage of time dulled the presence of his mother in his heart?

Turan, feeling a sudden wave of gloom, forcibly changed the subject to distract himself.

"More importantly, sir, what brings you to such a remote place?"

"I happened to pass by a nearby city, and I heard an old man saying that a leopard magical beast had appeared in his village and that he was looking for a wizard to take care of it. After hearing his story, I decided to come and deal with it. I’m quite confident in combat."

"Alone?"

A middle-aged man, not even in his prime, who looked like his back might give out any day now, attempting to face a magical beast without so much as a weapon?

Turan's astonished expression drew an awkward smile from the traveler.

"I’m a knight. I served the House Arabion for sixty years. I can handle most magical beasts just fine."

At the mention of the word 'knight', Turan’s eyes widened, and his body tensed up.

A being he had only heard about from his mother’s stories, the servant of the nobles...

But his tension was short-lived. Turan soon noticed that there was no hostility in the man’s gaze and gradually relaxed his stiffened body.

"Is something the matter?"

"It’s just… this is my first time meeting a wizard. But more than that, you don’t look like someone who’s worked for sixty years."

"Wizards age more slowly and live longer than ordinary people. I’m seventy-five this year. For a knight, I’ve aged like this, but I’ve heard that powerful nobles can easily live over two or three hundred years."

Hearing this for the first time, Turan was amazed and carefully observed the man, someone of the same kind as himself.

From outward appearances, it was hard to distinguish him from an ordinary person.

If there was a difference, it was that he had a sturdy build and a healthy complexion that gave him a robust look…

In other words, just by looking at a wizard, one couldn’t tell they were a wizard.

This was extremely important information.

It meant that even if Turan were to stand in the middle of a crowded city, as long as he refrained from using conspicuous magic, no one would be able to discern his identity.

Learning this made him feel as though one of the chains that had been tightly binding his chest had loosened.

"Being a wizard is truly incredible."

"Incredible? Not at all! I think people like you are far more incredible. Living in such a rough place, where magical beasts appear, without relying on magical powers? I couldn’t even imagine doing something like that."

Contrary to what the man thought, this was the first time a magical beast that posed a threat to humans had appeared in the area.

At least, since Turan had been born.

If that hadn’t been the case, no matter how extraordinary his mother was, she wouldn’t have been able to live here alone as a shepherd.

In truth, his mother, who raised her child in this desolate hill without any magical powers, was the one truly deserving of praise.

"Now that I think about it, I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Keorn. Keorn of Arabion - or rather, I suppose I should no longer call myself that. Just call me Keorn the Wanderer. And you are?"

"I’m Turan. The sole shepherd of Hisaril Hill."

"That’s a wonderful name."

"You mentioned earlier that you ‘served’ a noble house. Does that mean you no longer do?"

"I officially ended my vassal contract a month ago. The house offered to take care of me until my dying breath if I wanted, but… I wanted to spend my later years traveling here and there. After all, I’ve been tied to a single house ever since I was hired at the age of fifteen."

"Aren’t other noble houses trying to recruit you?"

"Why would they? I’m not some extraordinarily skilled knight who’s achieved great feats, nor am I a talented young man. Keeping an old dog like me around would just waste their resources."

Despite referring to himself as an 'old dog' in self-deprecation, Keorn’s face carried an undeniable pride and calm confidence.

Turan had always heard that nobles were arrogant and cruel predators, and knights were emotionless hunting dogs under their command.

Yet Keorn seemed more composed and pleasant than any adult Turan had ever encountered.

After their enjoyable meal, Keorn stood up and placed a small silver coin on the table.

On one side of the coin was the face of a handsome man, though Turan had no idea who he was.

"This is an Arabion Silver Coin. Among silver coins, it has the highest purity. If you trade it in the village, it should more than cover the cost of the meal. Though I hear the prices in this area are a bit steep."

Keorn grumbled about how even a village like this tried to swindle someone who had come to help. Considering Turan’s experience with the village people, it wasn’t all that surprising.

After pocketing the silver coin, Turan bowed politely and said,

"I hope your hunt goes smoothly."

"Don’t treat me like someone you’ll never see again. I might drop by a few more times for a meal!"