Chapter Thirty-Five: The Squad Sets Out

Within the Assassins' Guild, the Guildmaster had already gathered the idle assassins, calling them all together. The meeting place was none other than the Guildmaster's own home, brightly lit, with rows of assassins standing along both sides. Everyone present was dressed in black and masked, yet subtle differences in their attire hinted at individual identities.

"I've called you here today to announce a new mission," the Guildmaster swept his gaze over the assembly. "Tentatively rated as a three-star mission, location abroad, time undetermined. Is anyone interested?"

No one responded. They were all accustomed to the Guildmaster's way of dispensing assignments. Though he always hoped for volunteers, in practice, he usually ended up selecting people himself. The ones present were either freelance assassins or those resting after recent missions; the workaholics were almost always roaming foreign lands.

"None of you interested?" the Guildmaster sighed, then elaborated, "This mission involves escorting several key persons abroad to investigate hostile foreign forces. To be honest, it carries a certain degree of danger, but should you succeed, it will bring glory to our nation."

"In recent years, our country has grown ever stronger and more prosperous. As assassins, you should be keenly aware of the changes around us. Yet our development has become a thorn in the side of certain nations. They've sent bards in droves to spread rumors and slander our officials—even our king. Border skirmishes have become frequent, probing our military's strength. And now, they've dared to attack our soldiers within our own borders!" The Guildmaster's tone grew impassioned.

The assassins remained silent.

"Such blatant provocation is intolerable. Are we, the proud people of Loubaole, to be bullied at will? As assassins, should we not serve our country—defend our land, protect our dignity? This isn't for gold, nor for advancement in rank. This is the first mission in three years to concern our national honor. I won't force you, but if none of you step forward, I shall take up the task myself!" With that, the Guildmaster rose abruptly.

Still, the assassins said nothing, somewhat thrown by his sudden change in tone.

The Guildmaster sighed inwardly, glancing at the "Chronicles of Assassins" on the corner of the podium. As expected, stirring assassins with lofty ideals was...

"Guildmaster!" Albatross stepped forward, kneeling on one knee. "I volunteer."

"Guildmaster! I volunteer as well!" "Guildmaster, so do I!"—three or five in the front row dropped to one knee, and soon those in the back followed suit. In the end, those not kneeling felt awkward and knelt too.

The Guildmaster stared at the sea of kneeling assassins in disbelief. "Little Spoon, why are you kneeling?"

"Here!" Little Spoon, kneeling at the very back, replied, "Reporting, Guildmaster... I'm just following the crowd."

Everyone: "..."

With a blank expression, the Guildmaster returned to his seat. "I'm moved by your enthusiasm. For this mission, I've decided to send three: Albatross, Ninth, and..."

He paused for a moment of consideration: "Little Spoon!" At that, though everyone remained kneeling, a few couldn't help but glance toward the back row.

"You three, stay. The rest are dismissed." The Guildmaster waved a hand.

"Yes!" In a flash, the hall emptied, leaving only the three.

The Guildmaster began briefing them: "Here is the intelligence for the mission—take it. Albatross, you're the strongest among them, so you'll be in charge."

"Yes, sir," replied Albatross.

"First, you'll head to the 254th Legion to find Kevin Inquesiting! The two of you should know him," the Guildmaster continued. "He's currently just a new recruit in the Royal Army. As for assassinating him... that can wait."

"Yes, sir," answered Albatross, while Little Spoon's eyes sparkled with anticipation.

"All the documents are here. Rumor has it Kevin possesses the ability to pull down others' pants to confirm their identity," the Guildmaster said. "Understood?"

"Understood!" Albatross replied.

"Go, then. The sooner, the better."

"Yes!" The three saluted, preparing to depart.

"Wait," the Guildmaster suddenly called them back, "I felt my earlier words were rather hollow. Why did you all kneel?"

"Guildmaster, that speech of yours matched a passage in a book many of us recently read," Albatross replied. "Quite a few here have read it, so we were all deeply moved."

Little Spoon interjected, "The book is called 'Chronicles of Assassins.' Hehe."

The Guildmaster shot them a look, and they instantly straightened up, all seriousness.

"Go on, then," the Guildmaster waved.

"Yes!" Only now did the three truly depart.

The next morning, after breakfast, Kevin and his companions reported as usual to Colonel Orson's tent, preparing for yet another day of inspecting all manner of behinds. But today, three newcomers awaited them.

"Kevin," Colonel Orson announced, "these three are a special task force sent from above. From now on, you will fully comply with their arrangements to further investigate the matter."

Kevin took one look at the trio and gasped. Two he recognized: one was Lawlu, the new priest in Samshire Village, the other was Linda, the female assassin who had tried to kill them. The last he didn't know—she appeared to be a young woman as well and, given the company, was likely another assassin.

Lawlu stepped forward, smiling and extending a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Kevin Inquesiting."

"Uh, likewise," Kevin replied awkwardly, shaking his hand as if meeting him for the first time.

"I'm also pleased to meet you, Mr. Kevin Inquesiting!" Linda extended her left hand.

Kevin had no choice but to shake her hand as well, creating an odd tangle of hands among the three.

"Perhaps introductions can wait," Colonel Orson interjected. "Do you need anyone else to accompany you?"

"Kevin alone will suffice," Lawlu replied. "Time is short. Our next step is to retrieve the parrot that scouted with you before, and then we depart immediately."

"Very well," said Colonel Orson, rising from his seat. "Good luck."

"Thank you," Lawlu replied with courtesy, then led the three out of the tent. As Kevin exchanged a glance with Stardart, the latter's eyes were filled with a silent plea—take care of yourself. With a soft sigh, Kevin followed them out.

The four walked on, Kevin trailing at the rear, hardly daring to speak. The others' skills were indisputable; as a mere recruit, he could only feel anxious.

"There's no need to worry, Mr. Kevin," Lawlu said as they walked. "We're not here to assassinate you this time."

Kevin: "..."

"That's right," Linda turned back, "Relax. If we really wanted to kill you, my father wouldn't have sent me."

"Ahem!" the unfamiliar woman beside them coughed pointedly. "Little Spoon, what's the matter with you, blurting out assassin secrets?"

"Oh, look who's talking! You just called me by my codename!" Linda snapped back.

The three fell silent, then all turned to look at Kevin.

Pale-faced, Kevin stammered, "I didn't hear anything. Not a word."

"Never mind," Lawlu shook his head. "These two are rookies—it's stressful enough bringing both of you. In public, keep your mouths shut."

"Yes, sir," the two replied.

"By the way, I haven't introduced this one yet," Lawlu gestured to the new girl. "You can call her Nana. Incidentally, she hasn't read your book."

"Ah, hello," Kevin nodded courteously.

"Mm." She returned the nod with indifference.

Linda leaned over and whispered, "Just between us—she's actually a... well, never mind. You'll find out in time."

"Oh," Kevin replied, still lost.

After leaving the camp, Lawlu hailed a carriage, and they rode on to another nearby unit—the 173rd Mage Battalion. Mage corps usually had fewer members than regular infantry, given the greater importance of innate talent. Still, the scale of the unit was impressive.

Here, all manner of familiars patrolled the grounds, as if they'd entered a kingdom of magical beasts—birds, beasts, insects, dazzling and varied, flitted through the air. Kevin, visiting for the first time, couldn't help but gawk in curiosity, even though the topic had come up before.

Halfway there, a squad of parrots marched in formation, led by one at the front, issuing commands: "Left, left, left-right-left! Third one, you're out of step!"

Seeing Kevin's curiosity, Lawlu explained, "Parrots aren't the smartest birds, but since they can speak human language, they're invaluable for relaying information. Actual reconnaissance is often done by owls and other birds, with parrots ranking a close second."

"I see," Kevin nodded, watching the parrots march away.

"Each parrot needs three to four years of training before it's fit for service," Lawlu went on. "The first large-scale training began three years ago. Only recently have some succeeded. Even now, only about thirty percent of parrots graduate."

Linda's eyes widened. "They're so cute!" Having spent most of her life tending fires at home, she knew little of all this.

"All the parrots that graduate have developed considerable intelligence and can communicate easily with humans," Lawlu said. "They aren't pets anymore—they're true soldiers of the kingdom. No, military birds!"

"Oh," Linda nodded.

"They have ranks and draw pay. Even lower-ranking soldiers must salute them—it wouldn't do to underestimate a bird. This is the first batch. Once they retire, they'll likely blend into the civilian population. After this initial success, the next phase will be birds training birds, with little human involvement. Parrots will train their own."

The trio passed a large aviary, set up like a miniature classroom. At the front was a podium and a sand table. On it, a parrot wrote the word "gentleman" with its feather and shouted, "Repeat after me—gentleman!"

"Gentleman~" chorused the young parrots, their voices a bit odd.

The teacher parrot patted its chest with a wing. "I am a great gentleman!"

The little parrots echoed, "You are a great gentleman!"

Kevin and the others: "..."

Lawlu strode forward. "Our goal today is to find the parrot that accompanied you before—and to bring its handler along."

Kevin asked, "Are we dealing with foreign agents?"

All three paused, glancing back at him. Kevin quickly added, "I know nothing."

"Yes," Lawlu replied evenly. "It's likely the work of hostile foreign powers. Once we leave, we'll all need to disguise ourselves. You can't wear a military uniform abroad."

Linda chimed in, "And if we find anyone suspicious, we'll pull down their pants for you to check their rear end."

Kevin was taken aback. "But I was just checking bruises before—it's been days, surely there's no need for that now."

"That's not my concern," Lawlu waved dismissively. "The dossier says you have a special skill for identifying people by feeling their buttocks, so whether you want to or not, you must do it. No exceptions."

Kevin: "..."

As they spoke, a mage jogged over, a parrot perched on his shoulder. Coming to a halt, he snapped a salute. "Sir, I am Jack, handler of Parrot 37268."

"Sir," the parrot echoed, raising a wing, "I am Parrot 37268, the one who entered the Venomous Forest." Kevin scrutinized the bird, but with so many parrots, he couldn't be sure which was which.

"Very good," Lawlu nodded. "Your commander must have filled you in, so you've come to meet us."

"Yes, sir," Jack replied. "Everything's in order—I'm ready when you are."

"Let's go, then," Lawlu said briskly, leading the way back. "Once we're out, we'll find a place to change. Kevin, what identity will you assume?"

"I'll stick with being a bard," Kevin replied—his old profession, and the one he knew best.