Chapter 39

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 39

Chapter Title: Clue Finding

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Once again, the quest was nudging my actions.

Since I'd benefited from this quest log so far, it should be fine to just follow its lead.

The problem was that the quest log seemed to think of me and my companions as humans.

Girl, sage, me.

Ghost, kiwi, crow.

This lineup would make the Bremen Town Musicians weep—trying to shoehorn humans into it spelled big trouble.

For starters, it told me to ask the kiwi, but I still couldn't speak.

"Whirr whirr."

I pondered my next move as I opened my beak for the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠food they fed me.

"Caw."

This stuff's pretty tasty.

Even got a nice crunch to the texture.

"Whirr!"

Of course, knowing it was a beetle made it a bit iffy.

Now that I'd grown enough to get on track, I planned to quit the bug-eating life from here on out.

A crow like me could handle mice by now.

I could probably hunt decent beasts too, but eating them was another story.

Hunting a curs hound was one thing; choking down its rotten meat was another.

"Right. Open your beak. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠This body's too small—movement's no easy task."

The kiwi spoke in a deep voice pitched higher than before.

Among all the creatures I'd met, this was the wisest by far.

So maybe just staring him down would get my point across?

"Is there something on my face? I can't fathom why you're staring at me with that odd look."

Odd look? Come on.

This was my "please get it" face.

The quest that seemed set to progress smoothly had hit a snag.

Reason: I couldn't ask the sage!

Overcoming this hurdle would be the real test.

Did I need to find a parrot-like bird and snag a feather or something?

I'd seen videos of crows mimicking human speech before.

Apparently, crow vocal cords could copy human words.

But whether crows here could do it—or if I had the knack yet—I saw no signs of success.

Tsk... how do I even ask this?

"Hmm, Wings of Twilight. Your expression grows stranger by the minute."

Peck.

On a whim, I nipped at the kiwi.

"...I can't guess what you're scheming, but that won't harm me."

No, I wasn't trying to harm you.

I just pecked because I had no other way to ask.

Just in case.

Though I knew it wouldn't work.

"To harm this current body, you'd need something from the west... Ah, right. You heard the scarecrow's mutterings earlier. He must've meant head west."

...It worked?

Pecking to "ask" counted?

"Just 'west' is vague, but he said 'Tin Lord.' Something comes to mind—want to hear it?

Of course!

This kiwi revived faster than I thought.

Did he respawn the second he got crushed?

Pretended to sleep as kiwi while eavesdropping the whole time?

Or maybe he never actually died.

A kiwi who'd never tasted death.

"If you walk nonstop from here for about a year, you'll reach some ruins."

A whole year without rest?

"Caw?"

That far away?

"Ah, based on this body's pace."

Then I'd get there in a week.

"Anyway, those ruins have some odd rumors."

Odd rumors?

"The cliché about a rusting iron ruin hiding piles of gold is too obvious. Word spread, and adventurers and tomb raiders from everywhere flocked there."

Piles of gold hidden away?

"Caw..."

Silver's fine, but gold...

Saliva pooled in my beak unbidden.

"Explorers confirmed no living creatures inside. Once they realized that, they all rushed in. No monsters to fear—just watch for traps, they figured."

No monsters?

If I'd been there, I'd have claimed first place easy.

Fly in and hog all the treasure.

"And that's where it ended. Everyone died. Starting with the first ones in."

"Craaaw..."

Good thing I wasn't there.

"No living beings, for sure. But something powerful lurks dormant in those ruins. That must be the Tin Lord the scarecrow mentioned."

So the Tin Lord isn't a living thing?

A tin woodcutter popping out would be nice, but "Lord" in the name changed things.

Like the scarecrow wasn't just any scarecrow, this Tin Lord probably wasn't ordinary tin.

"I don't fully grasp why he named it, but it seems tied to Eternal Night. Maybe it's another host like him."

Even if it wasn't a host, plenty of reasons to head there.

The quest said so, but biggest was the link to Dorothy.

The woman who dumped me on the ground and rushed off somewhere.

She might be why I ended up in this world.

"Rest up a bit, then head there? I had research to do anyway—perfect timing. Recover fully before setting out. With the Eternal Night host gone, this place is prime hunting ground for you now."

"Caw caw."

The sage, as expected.

Answering ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my questions and mapping out my tasks.

Evolve and bolt to another region?

High chance of collapsing en route.

At least grasp what this Twilight Wings ability does before leaving.

"Craaack."

And help with the kiwi's rehab first.

He needs to grow back to his old size to handle things solo.

Perfect shoulder-perch size now, but I can't carry him forever.

"Caw!"

Alright. Bugs are just a stopgap anyway—might as well hunt properly.

Craving some meat after so long.

Eternal Night had descended on Skarnas.

Removing the night's host made it recede, but the problem was witnesses.

Lucky it happened late—no civilians noticed.

And no civilians noticing meant non-civilians did.

Here in Rosburn Barony, where the leadership had gathered.

"What in blazes is going on?!"

The baron's shout demanded answers from someone.

Skarnas Village's anomaly was confirmed long ago.

He'd insisted on observation over action—blame for the escalation fell on him.

But admitting fault meant surrendering his vested interests.

"Please, calm down. Even so, our Adventurer's Guild..."

"Yes, the guild. After all the funding I've poured in, this is how you handle it?!"

Rosburn Baron glared at the guild branch chief, eyes like axe blades.

The guild's only fault was prioritizing verification per the baron's orders.

Everyone knew, but no one could pin it solely on him.

"Adventurers have intel. Send elite ones based on this, and we can uncover the truth."

"Adventurers' intel? Ha, I read it. A giant crow in Skarnas? How's that supposed to reveal anything? This isn't a job for adventurers!"

Not a job for adventurers.

The branch chief, who commanded all adventurers in Rosburn Barony, furrowed his brow.

He clung to his adventurer's creed from before his promotion.

He pondered how to elegantly retort, "Then send your weak guards?"

Thud.

A knock echoed from outside.

Rosburn Baron's face lit up.

"Good, you're here! Enter!"

The chief gaped at the newcomer.

Golden armor encasing the figure head to toe.

No gaps save the visor slits—a knight in flawless gold plate.

"Hahaha! Sir Bertolt! What a relief you're in my domain!"

Called Bertolt, the knight sat silently in the guest chair.

The chief braced for an outburst—rude to the ill-tempered baron.

But contrary to expectation, the baron stayed quiet.

"Ahem. Allow introductions. Sir Bertolt of the Emerald Holy Knights."

The chief's awkwardness eased into understanding.

A holy knight from the Sacred Empire, no less.

Their might transcended human limits, and none matched their expertise in the uncanny.

The chief relaxed, having heard rumors of the Emerald Holy Knights' twisted nature.

Ignoring words was forgivable.

"We were tracking a hermit sage when..."

But the chief reconsidered instantly.

Bertolt's sword rested against the baron's throat.

"H-Hurk...!"

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Sheathed or not, it crossed into assault.

The chief felt a twinge of satisfaction but feigned outrage now.

Bertolt eyed the standing chief and slowly lowered his blade.

"Not a sage."

A chilling, sinister voice.

In that instant, the chief glimpsed crimson eyes through the visor.

"That's a witch."

Not all Emerald Holy Knights were mad.

But this one was.

The chief's long adventurer instincts screamed it.