Became a Medieval Fantasy Wizard

c108



c108

TL/Editor: raei

Proofreader: Pickhead7

Schedule: 5/week

Illustrations: None.

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The campfire burned late into the night.

The villagers laughed and chatted late into it, something they hadn't done in a long time.

They had no choice.

The situation in the North wasn't good.

No one knew if the food problem could be solved. If it couldn't, war might break out.

So everyone spent each day in worry.

It was only natural that this impromptu festival felt unusual.

‘It's truly unbelievable.’

Helga was immersed in strange feelings as she watched the bustling village.

Just yesterday, the village had been gloomy, but overnight it had transformed beyond recognition.

There hadn't been any major event.

Just one wizard preparing a strange dish.

“Ahem. Those sky-worshippers from the Empire. They're better than they look.”

“Haha, yes. He's a good fellow.”

Even the picky Sigurd acknowledged the wizard’s contribution.

Helga quietly watched the wizard drinking with the people.

He was a young man, but his wisdom was remarkable.

Swaying people and moving them as he wanted was something even Helga, as the chief, couldn't easily do.

Yet that young man had naturally shifted the village's atmosphere to his liking.

It was impressive and, at the same time, chilling.

It was fortunate that the wizard had approached with good intentions...

Had he harbored ill intentions, what would have happened to the village?

‘An extraordinary man.’

Helga still didn’t know who Ian was.

But he was a wise and capable wizard.

So, the next morning, when Ian came to see Helga again, she greeted the wizard with a calm face.

“Chief, I've come to tell you that we are leaving now.”

Helga politely offered him a seat.

Her attitude was completely different from yesterday when she treated Ian like a peddler.

“So, you're heading to the Red Bear tribe?”

“I heard that the monk I'm looking for might be there.”

The journey wasn't certain.

But finding someone in this era was always like this.

Phones and the internet are like cheat codes; before modern times, finding someone was a tedious task of repeated inquiries.

“You'll need food for your journey.”

Ian replied with a smile.

“It would be nice to have.”

“I'll arrange for you to receive some food from Gregory. Use it for your journey.”

Helga said softly.

With that, Ian achieved his primary goal.

“But I have one request.”

“Please, go ahead.”

There was a reason why Helga had readily promised support to Ian.

It was partly because she wanted to help a fellow Sky believer find a monk, but the main reason was this.

“You're aware of the situation in the North, aren't you?”

“I've heard about it.”

He knew all the important details.

Helga nodded and continued speaking.

“Every year, when the weather warms up, we head up to Mount Gramunt to hunt the Yagon herd. That's the Great Hunt.”

It was a story Ian already knew well.

“But this year, for some reason, the Yagon herd is almost nowhere to be seen.”

“Hmm…”

“To find out why, we've sent our best scouts from each tribe to Mount Gramunt. But so far, they haven't found an answer.”

Ian smiled bitterly.

He understood where this conversation was heading.

“Wizard Ian. We need your help.”

“…”

“Help the scouts find out where the Yagon herd has disappeared to.”

In short, Helga wanted to hire Ian as a troubleshooter.

She would provide him with the supplies he needed as he traveled around the North.

After hearing this, Ian…

Honestly, he was a little annoyed.

Even if the village was warm, the mountains would definitely be freezing cold.

Tracking down traces of the Yagon, which had vanished without a trace in the wild where not even a shadow of a person could be seen?

It might be possible for the barbarian scouts, but for Ian, it was definitely a difficult task.

“Are you sure you want to entrust such an important task to someone like me?”

Ian spoke indirectly.

This isn't an easy job, so are you sure you want to leave it to a wandering wizard like me?

But Helga was moved by Ian's answer.

“So humble! Who else could take on this task if not you?”

She thought Ian might ask for something outrageous as payment.

But hearing him speak like this, it was clear he truly wanted to help!

“In that case, I have a condition as well.”

“Go ahead.”

Ian pulled out a torn card fragment from his pocket.

“Do you know what this is?”

“... I’m not sure.”

Helga was ignorant of magic.

Not all people from the Empire knew about magic, and most Northerners lived without any connection to it.

“They say it's called an Arcana. I heard it's a northern magic.”

“Arcana… Hmm. The shamans would know about something like that.”

Shamans were both wizards and priests in the North.

They worshiped and praised the mysteries to harness the power of magic.

“I’ve heard there’s a skilled shaman in the Frost Axe tribe. I’ll introduce you to him.”

Indeed, with the help of a local shaman, Ian would be able to learn about the Arcana magic.

That sounded like a good deal.

Ian extended his hand to Helga.

“Alright. I'll investigate it.”

“Oh! Thank you, wizard!”

---

---

Ian quickly finished his travel preparations and left the village the next morning.

Despite the short time, many people in the village had grown fond of Ian.

“Ian! You must come back!”

“Make stone soup again next time!”

To Ian's ears, those words automatically filtered as ‘Come play with us again!’

Ian was popular, but Kira was no less so.

Her dazzling magic, excellent singing, and charming dancing had set the hearts of the innocent northern youths on fire.

“Kira! Stay here and live with me!!!”

“I can't lose you, Kira!”

“Marry me, Kira!”

Kira immediately blew a kiss with a fan-service smile.

“Sorry! There's someone I like back home!”

“What? Kira has someone she likes?”

“Who’s that bastard!”

“I'm jealous!”

Ian chuckled at the youths’ reactions.

Kira, who had managed to cultivate such devoted fans in a day, was impressive. She was indeed a born entertainer.

“I owe you a great deal, Ian.”

Priest Madagal and Gunnar also saw Ian off.

“You've reaffirmed the faith of our tribe. Surely, the Sky is blessing your journey.”

“Thank you for saying so.”

Priest Madagal smiled.

Thanks to Ian's stone soup, many villagers had found peace of mind.

The Sky is watching over us. The Sky has not abandoned us.

Things will improve.

So, let's hold on.

Yesterday's festival held that meaning.

It started off a bit strangely, but it did become a festival for the Sky God, the God of Heaven's Faith.

Madagal was genuinely grateful to Ian for relieving the village's tense atmosphere.

“If I get the chance, I'll make stone soup myself.”

"...Really?"

“Didn't you see it clearly too? How the Sky accepted Gunnar's offering. Stone soup is definitely a blessed food.”

It didn’t seem like such a great food.

Ian remained indifferent, but Priest Madagal thought differently.

He planned to cook stone soup with the villagers every time the Great Hunt ended.

He liked the fact that it was food sent from the heavens for the hungry faithful, and he also liked that it was a festival that everyone could enjoy together.

Priest Madagal even intended to develop the stone soup into a tribal tradition.

If that happened, hundreds of years later, it might be held as a traditional village festival.

As an exotic festival that travel YouTubers would come and film.

"I heard you're heading to Gramunt."

"Ah, after I find Takarion."

"Then you might as well release the phoenix yourself. It originally lived in the holy mountain anyway."

He could have entrusted the phoenix to Priest Madagal, but since Kira kept making a sullen face, he decided to just carry it with him.

After all, it wouldn't even come out from Kira's arms.

It was such a tiny baby bird that it hardly had any presence.

Ian once again boarded the carriage.

This time, Gunnar did not accompany him.

"Take care, Ian! You must come back with Takarion!"

"I'll try."

The person who sat as the coachman was an unfriendly old man.

That very person, Sigurd, who had fired off unpleasant words as soon as he met Ian.

Sigurd silently drove the carriage, carrying Ian and his party.

"The chieftain is really generous, lending even a carriage."

"It's natural since she promised to help."

Sigurd said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

"The Red Bear tribe is part of our Okaha Coalition. But they've only just joined, and we hardly ever do activities together. We specialize in hunting and trade. They specialize in pillaging."

In the Empire, it was common for barbarians from the North to conduct raids.

There are countless tribes in the North.

While some tribes, like the Sky Claw Tribe, sustain themselves with hunting and trade, many others, like the Red Bear Tribe, live off pillaging and slave trading.

To the Imperials, barbarian raiders were terrifying monsters.

But to the northerners, they were stalwart family members who brought back money and food.

Ian wasn't particularly shocked by that fact.

This is a world where everyone fends for themselves, without a strong absolute ruler.

Murder was an effective means of livelihood here, committed without hesitation in this medieval fantasy world.

Civilization has overly civilized modern times, but originally, human life was filled with murder and pillage.

"You guys might get your heads chopped off if you go alone. And since there are women with you, you might face even worse fates."

Sigurd glanced at the expressions of the two women, but Kira and Belenka were unfazed.

Kira was exceptionally good at managing her expressions, and being originally from the streets, she vaguely knew about the harsh world.

And Belenka... was just Belenka.

She was a master of physical fights.

"You're coming with us to that dangerous place?"

"...I apologize for the rude words I said before. My mind was quite troubled then."

Sigurd muttered.

Ian accepted Sigurd's apology.

He knew he was being watched and saw no need to fuss over someone who had come to help him.

"Still, there's no better warrior in our tribe than me. If anything happens, I'll protect you, staking the honor of our tribe."

"That's reassuring."

Sigurd was just a rough northerner.

He swore a lot, drank a lot, and fought a lot...

A sharply honed battle axe lay quietly in the carriage. The handle was smooth, indicating it was a well-used item.

"Ah, Ian. Look over there."

"What is it?"

Sigurd stopped driving the carriage and pointed somewhere.

"Crows! Lord Hrundal is watching over us!"

Ah. It's true.

Far away in the sky, a large, plump crow was circling around.

...But that crow. It looks very familiar.

The crow flapped its wings and flew swiftly toward the carriage.

And then it naturally perched on Ian's shoulder.

Sigurd's eyes widened in surprise.

"Why is the crow...?"

Ian calmly answered.

"It's a pet of mine."

"???"

Ian gently stroked Oberon.

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