Crows Are Smart Animals
Crows are smart animals. How smart? They're said to have the intelligence of a roughly six-year-old child. They can use tools, engage in social interactions, and analyze and understand phenomena. For instance, when a crow discovers a fellow crow's corpse, it calls over the others and they circle around it. This behavior is called a "crow funeral," where they examine the wounds on the body and discuss the cause of death. In other words, crows have the reasoning ability to connect wounds to accidents, and the social skills to share that with their flock.
That's why flocks of crows form local cartels and become such notorious pests. They use that sharp intellect and social savvy to rummage through trash cans and raid other beasts.
The large crow Ian had picked up was one of the smarter ones among its kind. It quickly realized that Ian was the only human in the group who didn't treat it with hostility. It also figured out that he understood its intentions and even spoke to it.
"Lend me some medicine and bandages," Ian said to Bernard.
Bernard didn't bat an eye and repeated the request to the innkeeper. "Bring some medicine and bandages."
"Ah, yes sir!" The innkeeper hurriedly fetched the first-aid supplies and clean bandages. They were normally for sale, but that hardly mattered. Who would try to haggle with the lord's son?
Ian applied medicine to the wound on the crow's wing joint and wrapped it securely with bandages. It was an arrow wound from a hunter.
For now... I'll have to keep it with me until it heals. Ian planned to care for the crow until it could fly on its own. Releasing it in this state would just mean the difference between who ate it, not if it got eaten.
"I'm heading out with the young lady for a bit, so watch this guy for me," Ian said, handing the crow to the innkeeper as he prepared to step out.
But the moment Ian turned his back, the crow hopped after him on unsteady legs.
"Caw!" [Take me with you!]
"No. Stay here. You can't even fly with that injury."
"Caw! Caw!" [These people are scary! Don't leave me behind!]
"Who's leaving you? Just stay put, no worries."
"Caw!" [Please!]
"...What a pain. Fine."
Seeing the crow was determined to follow, Ian scooped it up and set it on his shoulder. It immediately looked much more at ease.
"Hey, Ian."
"Yeah?"
"Can you... understand what the crow is saying?"
Lucy asked with sparkling eyes. Everyone around was staring at Ian in amazement. Mages were mysterious beings to ordinary folk, after all.
"Yeah, I get it."
"That's so cool!"
"..."
Lucy's idea of "cool" was a bit off. She hadn't reacted that strongly even to the drake. Apparently, talking to animals struck a chord with the girl's sensibilities.
"What's its name? What are you gonna call it?"
"This guy?" Ian glanced at the crow on his shoulder. Now that he'd unexpectedly adopted it, he needed a temporary name until release. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Chickenhead."
"...That's too insulting."
Lucy protested, but Ian genuinely thought the bird was dim. How stupid did you have to be not to understand the Maronius Language? If the crow knew, it'd be rolling on the ground in outrage.
"How about Obsidian?"
"Obsidian?"
"Its eyes are black and pretty like obsidian."
The crow cawed happily at Lucy's gentle words—not because it understood, but because it sensed the compliment. Classic crow cunning.
"Too much of a mouthful. Oberon it is."
"Oberon? Nice! Sounds like a mage's crow!"
Ian stroked the crow's head. "Your name's Oberon now."
The crow king, Oberon, cawed excitedly. [Offer tribute to earn my favor!]
"...?"
"Ian, can I hold it?"
"Sure."
Oberon purred contentedly in Lucy's arms. Snuggled against her chest, it just looked like a black chicken.
Hmm. No matter how he looked at it, Chickenhead fit perfectly.
A few days later, Ian lingered in River Bill, hanging out with Bernard. If Bernard heard that, he'd probably yell, "We hung out together—what do you mean 'hanging out with me'!" But Ian had been the one entertaining him.
He could've left right away, but staying a bit built ties with the nobility.
While Bernard dragged Ian around River Bill's sights, back at the castle, the aftermath of the incident wrapped up smoothly. The thugs who'd tried to kidnap Lucy were all sentenced to slavery. They'd originally faced execution, but their families begged for mercy, sparing their lives—at the cost of forced labor until they paid off the ransom in full.
"Ian. I've been thinking seriously about this."
Despite the ordeal, Lucy remained bright and cheerful. She had a rock-solid mentality.
"How about traveling with our knight order?"
"Knight order?"
Not a bad idea. With over ten heavily armed men, bandits wouldn't dare approach. And being loyal sorts, they wouldn't turn on Ian.
"If our paths overlap, sure. But do you know where they're headed?"
Lucy grinned at Ian's question. The answer came from an unexpected source.
"We're off to the Catania Earldom."
"Elder?"
The old man who opened the inn door was none other than Elder. Ian quickly pieced it together—Lucy and Elder had coordinated this.
"Even for a mage, traveling alone with a lady on dangerous roads is awfully risky."
"I know."
Ian shrugged. He was a mage, not a warrior. A mob of armed killers could overwhelm him. Plus, Lucy was a magnet for trouble—her beauty drew it like flies.
The kidnappers had already latched on, and now he'd have to fend off lust-driven raiders too. The River Bill thugs were just weaklings; the open road held who-knows-what horrors.
"So, how about a deal?"
"A deal?"
Elder nodded with a smile.
"We're hunting a monster that's appeared in the Catania Earldom. Ever heard of a manticore?"
"Yeah, I know it."
The manticore—a vile beast second to none in savagery, gnashing the lord's teeth and trembling the peasants. Infamous for its cruel delight in murder.
"What... you want my help killing it?"
If they were asking him to join the hunt in exchange for escort, Ian planned a polite refusal. Dangerous roads or not, fighting a manticore was another matter. Mages sought mysteries, not hunted beasts.
As if reading his mind, Elder replied, "No. I'd welcome your help, but I wouldn't drag you into life-threatening danger."
He was testing Ian subtly. A glory-hungry mage might jump at the fame. But that was warrior thinking—finding honor in blood and slaughter. Mages ignored such pointless tales.
"Ah. Then count me out."
"Heh heh, hear me out. What we need isn't your hunting skills."
"Then?"
"We already have a mage who's promised aid. But the way we got that promise was... a bit coercive."
Here's the setup: The Saint Santiago Knight Order was formed by the Celestial Faith's holy order, networked with its priests. When word spread they'd come to hunt the manticore in Catania Earldom, the local priests "strongly encouraged" a nearby mage to cooperate.
In short, the mage was a poor soul press-ganged by priestly threats.
"He's probably pretty pissed by now. Ian, you're a fellow mage, right? Could you smooth things over for us?"
Got it. Ian was basically the knight order's soothe-the-grumpy-mage guy.
Ian tilted his head slightly. "What difference would my words make?"
The threats had already happened. But Elder was convinced Ian could help.
"Matters if it's a mage or a knight saying it. He might even know you or your master's name."
"Master? Maybe."
Elder nodded, chuckling. "And if the mage tries casting on us, you could warn us ahead."
Mage conspiracies foiled by mages. Ian nodded.
Not bad at all.
More than not bad—it was a great deal. Protection from the Saint Santiago Knights in exchange for placating one sulky mage. Even if it went south, Ian lost nothing. His goal was escorting Lucy safely to the earldom.
"Change your mind midway, you could always join the manticore hunt."
Elder winked. Ian felt a bit queasy receiving a wink from the old man.
"Pass."
"Then you'll handle persuading the mage?"
"Yeah, I can do that."
No sooner had Ian spoken than Lucy jumped up for a high-five with Elder.
"Yay! Looking forward to traveling together, Elder!"
"Heh heh. The pleasure's ours."
And so, Ian's journey with the Saint Santiago Knight Order was set.
The next morning, Ian left River Bill. Even at dawn, Bernard insisted on seeing him off to the edge of the village.
"Come back soon, Ian!"
Had the bratty young master grown fond of him? Ian didn't mind Bernard much.
"Sure. See you soon, Bernard."
"...!"
Ian waved, and Bernard beamed, waving back vigorously.
"...Friend! Safe travels!"
Sir Hanson watched Bernard, nodding slowly.
Excellent work, young master.
Childhood friendships were treasures only youth could claim. A friendship with a mage? People would pay fortunes for it.
That was the value Bernard had gained. Sir Hanson felt some of the stress from the boy's antics melt away.
Thanks to this promising young mage, River Bill's future looked a little brighter.