The Shepherd Alone on the Hill is a Genius Wizard-Chapter 80: Everything Was Manufactured Fake (2)

The next heir of House Baraha who had failed to receive Bize’s choice.

Given the circumstances, it could only be him.

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

There must be reasons the next head of a major house wouldn’t want others to know about him wandering alone.

Then, Solif held up ten fingers toward Turan.

"Ten times."

"What?"

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

"Not even for a hundred times. Besides, Bize wouldn’t want that."

Seeing Bize vigorously nodding while leaning against Turan’s side, Solif sighed.

"So that’s how it is. Damn, what exactly am I lacking?"

That was something Turan was very curious about as well.

Since Meisa had also been qualified, it clearly wasn’t a condition specific to Turan alone, yet even Bize could only explain it as a "feeling."

Anyway, though Solif’s expression showed lingering disappointment and attachment as he looked at Bize, he didn’t push further.

This was truly fortunate.

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

’But I don’t really understand why he’s so fixated on Bize.’

Though she was Turan’s most precious family member, objectively speaking, while Bize was useful, she could hardly be considered a particularly powerful Masu.

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

Surely as the Baraha heir, he could obtain far more powerful Masu with his power and wealth.

As he pondered this question, Solif suddenly pointed toward the burned corpses of the sailors and spoke.

"So, what did you want to ask them about? If I know, I can answer instead. I’ve been around this area for quite a while."

"I’m looking for where saltpeter comes from."

"Saltpeter? That white stone?"

"Right."

"That stuff comes from near my homeland too, but if you believe those rumors about the elixir of immortality, they’re false. It’s just used for coloring preserved meat."

"I know. I just have my own use for it."

Turan had no intention of telling Solif about the fire spirits.

It was hard to even imagine what scale of destruction would be possible if a noble with the sun bloodline got their hands on it.

After hearing the explanation, Solif stroked his chin thoughtfully before speaking.

"You’re looking for where it comes from around here, right? Then... probably Parayan Island? It should be a few days northeast from here."

Turan looked at him with surprise.

"How did you know that?"

"I’ve been combing this area for quite a while looking for something. I was on a ship until recently, and heard talk about saltpeter coming from there while passing by. Though I haven’t been there myself."

"Come to think of it, you mentioned looking for Prea god-folk ruins?"

Turan mentioned just that much and then cut off as if showing no further interest.

If the other side was exploring for some precious treasure, showing too much interest might make him wary.

However, contrary to expectations, Solif seemed pleased by Turan’s interest and enthusiastically shared his story.

"That’s right. It’s about a god who sank into the sea and never returned while fighting great sea serpents in ancient times, as passed down on various islands of the South Sea. A truly forgotten ancient god not recorded in any scripture. Doesn’t that pique your interest?"

At this very familiar story, Turan almost reached for the Mimicker holy relic around his neck.

But the relic’s owner had definitely died in the North Sea, thousands of kilometers up from here...

’Ah.’

Come to think of it, there was such a legend among the North Sea stories too.

An ancient magic mirror connecting the North and South Seas.

What if the Mimicker holy relic’s original owner had fought in the South Sea, passed through the mirror to the North Sea, and died there?

It sounded remarkably plausible for something thought up on the spot.

"Are you looking for the god’s remains or holy relics they left behind?"

"That would be impossible. I’m not a mermaid after all. For now, the goal is to find where they stayed just before departing for that battle. Given how much time has passed, any records left directly by the god would be gone, but there should at least be passed-down stories. Things like what kind of personality the god had, which gods they got along with or didn’t."

Claiming it was purely for academic purposes, Solif chatted away with the same cheerful attitude he’d shown while boasting to the sailors earlier.

The story began when he happened upon tales of a drowned god in a southern port of the Enril Desert.

Since then, he’d spent the past year gathering information, traveling between ports bordering the South Sea and various islands large and small.

Along the way, sometimes he made friends with good sailors, and sometimes he had to fight his way through traps like today.

He’d eaten local foods he’d never tried before, fought powerful blue marlin Masu and mermaid armies.

Usually he pretended to be a commoner like they’d just seen, and said he enjoyed seeing aspects of people’s lives he couldn’t know while living as a powerful noble.

These stories were quite similar to Turan’s own adventures, so he found himself quite absorbed.

Though one thought did occur while listening...

’Somehow it seems like the journey itself is more the main goal than finding clues about the god?’

While he was thinking this privately, Solif grumbled.

"But lately the atmosphere has been really bad. There are few sailors with conscience, they’re all trash like those guys earlier. I must have killed several hundred such pirates or thugs or whatever they are in the past few months."

"That must have greatly contributed to maintaining order in the South Sea."

Even if pirates infested the seas, they surely didn’t number in the hundreds of thousands or millions - even assuming ten thousand, one in every few dozen had died by Solif’s hand.

"Well, I guess I’m doing vigilante work on the side. House Labitas and other houses probably wouldn’t like it... but what they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?"

"Doesn’t your house say anything about you wandering around like this?"

"Of course I ran away. You probably know roughly where I’m from, but please don’t tell my home that I’m here. I’ll take revenge later. Consider yourself warned."

Running away - it sounded incredibly immature coming from a man who must be at least twenty to forty years old.

Sensing Turan’s gaze, Solif gave a somewhat embarrassed smile.

"Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t just leave because I felt stifled, this is a journey to find myself."

"From what I can see, you’re right here in front of me."

"No, that’s not what I mean... Look at me. A perfect face, outstanding talent, born into a great house - I’m living a life of the chosen, right?"

"Uh..."

While wizards tend to have better looks than commoners due to magic’s influence giving them straight postures and clear skin, Solif clearly didn’t have what would be considered a handsome face.

As Turan fumbled for a response to this awkward statement, Solif seemed to take it as agreement and continued on his own.

"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 childhood. You must behave this way, you must not do that... My personality, abilities, even small habits and ways of speaking - everything."

"That’s-"

Though a bit extreme, it didn’t seem particularly special.

This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.

Don’t nobles raise their daughters this way to send them as concubines, and even wealthy merchants raise their children similarly?

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

"Right, that level of thinking would be normal for any child from a wealthy family. But our house isn’t at that level."

"Then?"

"From interactions with others to challenges and achievements, even to what I become interested in and immerse myself in - everything was manufactured fake. It felt like someone was looking down from above, delicately sculpting me..."