Chapter 45
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: Bertolt
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Crows like shiny things.
And I'm not your average crow. I've got the Material Desire trait, after all.
So the moment I laid eyes on that, I couldn't help but go a little crazy.
Why, just the other time, I unwittingly swiped a feather and snuck off with some human silver coins.
This is just more of the same.
But humans are progressive creatures, always evolving.
Crows probably are too.
Meaning, I won't dive headfirst at anything shiny like I did before.
Even so, that golden helmet was way too tempting.
To be precise, it felt different from other sparkly objects.
It had that same subtle gleam I'd seen when I first spotted Shuung and Moona.
Just like the fateful opportunities they brought me.
So, what kind of value might that golden helmet hold, glowing with a similar light?
Even if it was only half as good as Shuung or Moona, it'd be worth a fortune.
And it's not like I'd have to beat that holy knight in a fight—just snag the helmet. Piece of cake.
Any reason I wouldn't steal it?
Plus, swiping that helmet would make me infamous.
Since I can't build a reputation the normal way, infamy it is.
"You're not thinking of taking on that guy, are you?"
Moona poked my shoulder with her long beak.
"Facing off against the Emerald Knight? As a sage, I wouldn't recommend it. But from what I've seen of you so far... well, you'll probably make it work somehow."
Moona knows me too well.
"In that case, shall I lend a wing? I've got a grudge against the Emerald Order myself."
"Kak?"
What was that about?
Sounds like a story I really want to hear.
But I don't need Moona's help.
Or more accurately, I shouldn't expect combat support from her.
Look at those stubby legs and chubby butt.
I'd have better luck with a passing venom mantis pitching in.
"Shuuuung."
Shuung, on the other hand, is helpful—and in a pinch, she can hide inside me, so we can fight without worry.
But Moona's different.
If I hide in the shadows?
That plump little thing would be left out in the open.
So even if she wants to fight alongside me, she can't.
"A true sage wins without fighting."
Moona gazed down at the holy knight with soulful eyes.
"I've got a plan, if you'll hear it."
See? This is what I mean by fateful opportunity.
Alright.
Let's hear out our sage's brilliant strategy.
"My plan is..."
...
......
"Shuuuung?"
"Kaaak?"
Shuung and I both tilted our heads at the same time.
Because the "plan" this guy came up with was something even a newborn chick wouldn't try—pure recklessness.
"Kak."
Fine, let's do it right now.
After some quick first aid and a meal, Bertolt's group pressed on.
Their target: the three-headed ill omen.
The adventurers had been reluctant to face it, but Bertolt's arrival changed the mood.
With an Emerald Holy Knight on their side, victory was all but guaranteed.
And they'd get to claim some credit just by tagging along.
Harboring such optimistic thoughts, they ventured deeper.
Then came the sound that shattered their hopes.
"Queeeeeeek!"
Everyone clamped their hands over their ears.
It was a horrific screech from the pits of hell.
Breath caught in their throats, bodies trembling—an instinctive terror.
"Hah... huff..."
No way we can win.
It hadn't even shown itself yet, but they could guess what it looked like.
This was several times more ferocious than the wyvern's cry they'd heard from afar before.
Everyone was frozen in fear, but Bertolt was different.
This was exactly what he'd been waiting for.
The reason he'd come here.
To find the missing sage.
Or more precisely, to track the one he'd branded a witch: the sage herself.
What could that hellish cry be?
Obvious.
The voice of the witch's familiar.
There'd been a eyewitness report of a similar sound from the sage's lair before.
Dismissed as nonsense at the time—but look at the situation now.
It fit perfectly.
The sage was here.
"Kak, kak."
A crow's caw rang out, followed by something sharp hurtling toward them at high speed.
A feather.
A black feather.
No one else noticed, but Bertolt saw it clearly.
The moment he raised his sword to swat it away—
Whoosh!
The feather burst into black flames.
"...Shadow Flame."
Shadow Flame.
It merely resembled fire enough to borrow the name, but strictly speaking, it wasn't flame at all.
Yet its danger surpassed ordinary fire.
Bertolt, Emerald Holy Knight, knew this better than anyone.
Holy light enveloped his longsword.
Shwaaa!
Thrum.
Bertolt planted his foot firmly.
His sword flashed once.
Shwaaaa!
The oncoming flames vanished instantly.
It looked like an easy dispel, but inwardly, Bertolt acknowledged the foe.
If he'd been an ordinary knight, he couldn't have blocked it.
Everyone here would have fallen to that flame.
The adventurer named Ethan might have managed, but he was in the rear.
Meaning, no one else here could stand against the ill omen.
"I'll track it. Everyone, stay here."
So he chose to hunt it alone.
"Sir Bertolt! We can—"
"It's the will of the gods."
Bertolt's red eyes flashed.
Say no more.
That was the message.
Bertolt followed the forest path.
Not too fast, not too slow.
Waiting for the cunning witch's familiar to spring its trap.
"Kak, kak."
The crow's cries grew louder.
He knew it was luring him in.
How long had he walked?
Then he spotted the enemy.
Something black rippled.
"Shuuaaa..."
Like a curtain fluttering in the wind.
Even Bertolt had never seen anything like it.
An indescribably grotesque form.
But it was small.
Too small for an ill omen.
As that thought crossed his mind, a horrific screech pierced his ears.
"Queeeeeeek!"
Atop the rippling black mass sat another creature.
This was the source of the hellish wail.
A kiwi bird.
Wearing a hat and clothes, no less.
Bertolt realized something was off.
Why was a kiwi bird here?
Did that long beak produce the cry from moments ago?
It was eerie, sure, but hardly ill omen material.
Had he gone down the wrong path?
No, that couldn't be.
Then what about that shadow flame?
As his thoughts reached that point, Bertolt raised his sword.
Pure instinct.
He sensed an approach and whirled around.
Superhuman reflexes, beyond reproach—but it was his fatal mistake.
The instant he turned, a tri-colored light blinded him.
Craaaash!
"Grrrh!"
Even a superhuman struggles against sudden light.
And Bertolt had a physical weakness to intense light more than most.
His vision was stolen.
Next would come strikes at his throat and heart.
Eyes shut, he snapped into a defensive stance.
Shwaaa.
Clunk!
But it was pointless.
The enemy was after his helmet.
Bertolt's golden helmet was yanked off.
The sage's plan worked—we hit the enemy's weak spot.
No need to take it down or anything; no reason for a full-on battle.
Shuung and Moona played decoy from a safe tree perch, and I stole its vision with a flash, snatching the helmet clean off.
The tricky part was the time it'd take to remove it, but it came off easier than expected.
There was just enough give—hooked it with my talons, and out it popped.
Perfect.
Its sight should be back by now; it'll come hunting me.
No point engaging—time to bolt.
I'll put this helmet to good use...
I couldn't believe my eyes.
I'd clearly succeeded in pulling off the golden helmet.
So what was this light?
Why was it still shining without the helmet?
How was that still gleaming gold?
"...How dare you."
A voice twisted in rage.
But it was totally different from before.
No more fake manly growl.
Without the helmet, her true voice—a woman's—rang clear.
I could see her features now.
Red eyes, beauty so radiant it hurt to look.
They say beautiful faces glow, a figure of speech.
But now I knew it was literal.
"How dare you take my helmet! I'll kill youuuu!"
Her bald, hairless scalp was shining way too bright.