The Shepherd Alone on the Hill is a Genius Wizard-Chapter 128: The Rage of Bitter Cold (2)

Turan’s full-power strike, made in desperate haste, took away Renode’s consciousness for a few seconds.

"Are you okay?"

"I’m not dead... ugh... think I got stabbed in a few places though."

As Solif grumbled while quickly using stealth to distance himself from the enemy, Meisa telekinetically uprooted several large conifers and struck down Renode who was just regaining consciousness.

The completely berserk berserker let out a thunderous roar.

==

About ten minutes later, Turan’s group restrained the mortally wounded Renode with chain magic devices.

Although there were accidents like Solif getting his thigh pierced by an ice pick and Meisa getting her arm broken by the axe, the operation was successful since they managed to capture him anyway.

Using what little mana they had left to create healing potions and treat their wounds, the three threw Renode into the middle of a conifer forest a little away from the campsite.

"Whew, I really thought I was going to die. If he had been any stronger, I would have had to use my bloodline ability."

"So this guy’s identity, it’s that one, right?"

"Probably."

Though they didn’t mention the god’s name, all three of them guessed the identity of the being inside Renode.

The Prea god-folk, Rage of Bitter Cold.

The one who could possess both frost and berserker bloodlines was surely the one whom the nobles of the frost bloodline, including the Kamain bloodline, regarded as their ancestor.

’Though I don’t understand why he’s in House Nagin rather than Kamain.’

There were several possible reasons to guess.

Either they couldn’t yet reach Kamain house, or...

’Perhaps there’s already another god ruling Kamain.’

Hadn’t the one who possessed Renode’s body just mentioned the word ’agreement’?

Considering that word meant agreements and treaties between major powers, it could immediately suggest one thing.

Namely, that the Prea god-folk remaining in this land weren’t one group.

’Well, if they’re just strong humans despite being called gods, it can’t be helped.’

Considering how their descendants, the mages, constantly opposed and fought each other, it would be funny to think the gods would be any different.

While deep in speculation, Solif muttered quietly while looking at the sprawled Renode.

"Really, looking at this gives me a strange feeling. The fact that we caught it, I mean. Not entirely good... should I say it feels somewhat empty? Though it’s not like we caught it easily."

Using ’it’ rather than ’god’ was based on the assumption that they might have the ability to detect something just through conversation.

Of course, given that they only knew about the conversation in the library but not Turan’s identity or the exact content of the conversation, the accuracy didn’t seem high, but it was better to avoid risks when possible.

Turan nodded, agreeing with Solif’s words.

"I think I understand what you mean. Actually, I felt the same way."

He too felt a strange disappointment from the fact that the ancestor of all mages, the creator who defeated other races and saved humanity, the great Prea god-folk, was caught by just the three of them.

Is this how it feels when you learn that the idol whose face you wished to see just once was actually just a lucky drunk?

To these words from the two, Meisa behind them shook her head.

"I don’t think it’s empty enough to say that? Even with such a body, he could fight like this against the three of us - I’m getting frustrated because I can’t even imagine how strong that person must be."

"Ah, right..."

When Meisa’s father, Badal Arabion, was mentioned, all three couldn’t continue speaking for a moment.

The god dwelling in Renode demonstrated power that could somewhat fight against three top-tier nobles just by weaving two bloodline abilities into a high noble’s body.

Then how monstrous would a god be who inhabited the body of a great house head and perfectly wove four bloodlines?

Theoretically, even if they all possessed magical power at the level of great house heads, they might not dare guarantee victory...

Since even imagining it seemed to make their confidence disappear, Turan shook his head and changed the topic.

"For now, we should try to get a lot of information from this opportunity. While we’re at it, let’s find out about those suspicious magics this guy was using."

"Ah, that light-shooting thing? That was really strange. I thought it was cold energy, but it had physical substance and also froze where it hit."

"That, and even the way he handled ice magic was strange. Something seemed different from normal magic."

To Solif’s question, Turan explained the ice magic he had observed earlier that seemed to use no moisture at all, and Meisa added to that.

"Ah, right. I saw while cleaning up, but the ice he created didn’t leave any water and just disappeared. As if it had been an illusion."

"Then ice created by illusion- no, that’s not it, what is it? Summoning ice?"

"That’s what we’re going to find out now."

At Turan’s words, Solif groaned "ugh."

It wasn’t hard to guess that his face behind the mask would be dead serious.

"Is it time for that again?"

"If you don’t want to watch, you can go keep lookout like before. My partner must be bored being alone anyway."

"No, I should get used to it."

While making small talk with the disgusted Solif, Turan slightly focused his attention on Meisa.

Though he couldn’t see her expression because of the mask, he could feel that her mind was full of confusion.

[Will you be okay?]

[It doesn’t matter. That body is just the child of that filthy woman after all. It’s not like he’s my brother.]

When Turan discreetly transmitted his voice using wind magic, Meisa just answered that much and closed her mouth.

At this, Turan immediately poured a small amount of healing potion into Renode’s mouth and splashed a large drop of water on him.

"Ugh..."

Renode, who opened his eyes with difficulty, widened them when he saw the figures surrounding him.

Three suspicious figures wearing masks with cloaks torn here and there as if they had been in battle.

He tried to draw up magical power in surprise at their appearance that blatantly revealed they weren’t proper people, but no strength could be felt in his body.

"Wh-where is this? What is this? Who are you people?"

"Seems like he doesn’t remember?" Your journey continues with novelbuddy

"Maybe he’s just pretending not to know?"

To Meisa’s question, Turan lightly sniffed and shook his head, denying that hypothesis.

The scent of confusion was wafting from Renode’s seated body.

In other words, the god hadn’t completely taken over Renode’s body but clearly came and went only when needed, like possession.

Though it seemed he was somewhat suppressing consciousness even in normal times, given that he didn’t even know who Turan’s group was.

"It seems he’s really hiding inside. Hey, you know there’s something inside you, right? Bring it out. If not, we’ll torture you."

"Wh-what? I don’t know what you’re talking about-"

Though Renode shook his head as if confused, Turan didn’t miss the emotion that flashed across his face for an instant.

An expression that seemed to say ’I’ve been found out.’

’Does Renode also know what’s inside him? Good, this is a chance to find out how they coexist with their hosts too.’

Turan removed Renode’s shoes and brought a long needle to the tip of his toe.

Renode’s face turned pale as he guessed what was about to happen.

"I have no personal grudge against you, so I’ll say this one last time before the torture. Call out the one inside you."

Though he hadn’t interacted with the real Renode for long, Turan could guess that he wasn’t a particularly strong-willed character.

As expected, Renode started crying out in fear without even needing to be tortured.

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"Ah, ugh...! Imir! Imir! Save me! Please!"

Imir, was that the name of the god called the Rage of Bitter Cold?

However, contrary to expectations, the god dwelling in Renode’s body seemed to ignore the desperate calls, showing no reaction.

Even though his host’s life was in immediate danger.

’I somewhat expected it but... does the soul not perish even if the host dies?’

This was also why Turan had completely hidden his identity throughout not only the battle but afterward as well.

If they killed him and the soul just flew back to their base, they would only expose their information without gaining anything.

Anyway, at this rate, it seemed difficult to obtain meaningful information by threatening and torturing Renode.

So Turan crouched in front of him and recited the words he had prepared in a low, stern voice.

"Imir, I’ve come to deliver Lord Otas’s will."

Otas.

That was the name of a certain Prea god-folk that had been mentioned in the diary Turan had encountered in the past.

Turan thought there was a high probability that his identity was the Night Hunter, the ancestor of Zahar.

After all, Zahar’s tracking ability was exactly what the diary’s owner had desperately needed at the time.

In other words, he was now pretending to be a messenger who had received orders from Zahar’s god.

’Mentioning the name this openly should at least make him show himself.’

This would surely make it even harder to think that the culprit was Turan, a wandering noble who happened to be passing by.

After all, there was no possibility that such a minor figure would know the Night Hunter’s real name.

As expected, Renode’s expression changed instantly as if someone had taken over his frightened state.

What was surprising was that the emotion wasn’t anger or fear, but rather something closer to shock.

Imir, the Prea god-folk who had taken over Renode’s body, shouted in a shrill voice.

"Otas? That otaku bastard was still alive? How? Where the hell has he been hiding for thousands of years?"