Chapter Sixty-Nine: Indescribable

The two departed from the Royal Academy, setting out once again for the Venomous Forest. After working together once, they had become more familiar with each other, and their conversations grew livelier. Kevin was eager to learn and asked many questions; the professor was happy to answer. A true scholar always enjoys students who are intelligent and inquisitive—it makes the mentor feel more valuable, unless he is one of those who simply muddle through, lacking knowledge and fearing to be outwitted by his students.

As vice president of the Royal Academy, Professor Luke's erudition was beyond dispute. Kevin seized the opportunity to ask about many things related to their mission, including the curious practice of observing gorillas' mating behaviors from afar: Couldn't they simply capture two and watch them mate in a cage?

To this, the professor replied, "The conditions in captivity differ from those in the wild. To truly understand, field investigation is indispensable. It’s not enough to listen to tales spun in taverns by wandering poets—this is genuine scholarship. One must see with one's own eyes, hear with one's own ears. Even summoning a beast to observe on your behalf would be irresponsible."

Kevin nodded in earnest, fully understanding.

The professor went on, "Such research must be routine—ideally, one should return every two or three years. Who knows what changes might occur? Perhaps the gorillas have learned new positions."

Kevin was left speechless.

Besides gorillas, Kevin also discussed his interest in crows. Professor Luke was reputedly a leading figure in parrot studies; there could be no greater authority.

Luke, once prompted, spoke freely, without reservation. "We experimented on many animals together, mostly common species. For strategic military reasons, we ultimately focused on birds: parrots, crows, and several others. In the end, only parrots and crows showed significant results."

"Crows are remarkably intelligent—even more so than parrots, surpassing gorillas as well. They can count, reason logically, use tools, speak after training, and recognize people. When a companion dies, they hold funerals, remember and identify those who killed their kin, and either attack or avoid them. Crows even appear to transmit 'language' among themselves, warning others. They exercise, too: in flight, they toss small branches to one another, catching and throwing them back and forth," Luke recalled from his research. "Crows are monogamous, to some extent—a fine subject for romantic tales, were it not for their unattractive appearance."

Kevin nodded, repeating a line from the general: "I heard parrots were chosen because they live longer?"

"You know quite a bit," Luke replied. "That is one reason, but the real cause is that we didn’t need such high intelligence."

Kevin paused, recalling the general had mentioned this too, though he hadn't paid it much mind at the time.

"Our special feed, when administered, significantly increased the intelligence of birds. Of course, this takes time—about three years. There’s no such thing as instant cleverness. We had to teach the birds as one would teach children, supplementing with the feed. After three years, some succeeded, some remained unchanged."

"The success rate among crows was much higher than parrots, but that’s not the main point. The critical moment came when a genius crow appeared. He learned magic on his own, without instruction," the professor remembered, still sighing at the thought.

"Magic?" Kevin's expression changed.

"You see the implications," the professor sighed. "If intelligence grows too high, you might have a new species on your hands. Crows breed readily. Should they master magic and attain human-level intelligence, they would become uncontrollable."

"Don’t we have contracts?" Kevin asked.

"You can't rely on contracts for everything," Professor Luke shook his head. "If a crow’s power surpasses its master’s, and it wishes to rebel, a contract won’t stop it. And if the master dies first? These high-intelligence crows would return to the flock—who knows what might happen then?"

Kevin understood. He had read works and reports where other species suddenly gained intelligence, turning against and even exterminating humans—often insects, but the principle was clear. Still, he asked, "Isn't special feed required to unlock their intelligence?"

Luke shook his head. "No matter how strict the controls, loopholes remain. At least nothing catastrophic has happened yet. And this is beyond our power to decide now."

Kevin’s face changed slightly. "What happened to the crows that gained intelligence after the experiment?"

Luke waved him off. "Don’t ask. Even if you do, I can’t tell you."

Kevin could only nod. "Understood."

They continued their idle chatter as they bought insect-repellent ointment from the mercenary branch and applied it. Though it was already November, the mosquitoes in the Venomous Forest remained fierce. Its unique terrain meant insects thrived year-round, and even winter was not cold.

By the roadside, two members of the Purple Gold Mercenary Corps watched Kevin and the professor enter the forest. It took only a brief inquiry to discover Kevin’s name in the mission records. There was no escaping responsibility now.

Their captain’s humiliation—having his pants stripped—had become infamous. Though rival groups suffered the same fate, because their own captain avoided it, they were mocked relentlessly. Today, these two mercenaries decided to avenge their leader.

Of course, they planned carefully. Doing it themselves would be too obvious. Mercenaries had long mastered the art of sabotaging rivals’ missions. The army, however, had no such experience, being more accustomed to cleaning up and rarely bothered by others.

Today, these mercenaries recruited two men from Smitda, a nation east of Laubauler, not bordering it but fairly close. Smitda was small, but its people were notoriously arrogant, believing themselves invincible, though their national strength was barely above that of Laibozi’er. In peaceful times, no one bothered to teach them humility, except perhaps with words.

Recently, Smitda had sent many agents in search of supposed ancient artifacts, with some entering Laubauler as tourists. Tourists were forbidden from bringing weapons, equipment, or spatial rings across the border unless they had another identity. Even if they found an artifact, it should be surrendered to Laubauler, not taken out.

But there are always ways around restrictions; borders are long, and loopholes abound. Some ancient artifacts, their powers long faded, could slip past inspections if one was clever.

"Did you see those two just now?" the mercenary said to the Smitda men. "One is the vice president of the Royal Academy."

"Really?" The Smitda agents were incredulous. "The vice president wandering around with just one guard?" Their accents were odd, but they were foreigners after all.

"That’s all I’ll say. It’s up to you," the mercenaries departed.

The Smitda men discussed among themselves. Their mission, put politely, was to search for ancient artifacts; less charitably, it was scavenging along the riverbank. They wondered what madness had seized their king, sending so many experts to hunt for chamber pots rather than pursue serious business.

Yet, to prevent his agents from using the mission as an excuse to travel and indulge, the king issued strict orders: They must bring back something valuable within six months. He knew artifacts weren’t easy to find, so he lowered the standard to 'anything of value,' though what counted as valuable was at his discretion.

These two Smitda experts had been abroad for four months, wandering aimlessly and finding nothing. With the deadline approaching, anxiety weighed heavily. Information was hard to come by for foreigners; they often offered gifts to mercenaries in hopes of gaining favor.

Unfortunately, unaware that the two mercenary corps were rivals, they gave gifts to both, ending up disliked by both sides and mistakenly believing the people of Laubauler were difficult and ill-tempered.

Today, luck finally smiled: two Purple Gold mercenaries told them a heavyweight—the vice president—had gone to the Venomous Forest. Whether true or not, it was an opportunity.

There were no more chamber pots to scavenge; if nothing could be found, robbery was the only option. Smitda agents were notorious for their banditry, often claiming anything they touched as their own. The wilds of the Venomous Forest were ideal for such deeds, with no witnesses.

Lacking weapons was inconvenient, but they managed. Each grabbed an axe for chopping wood, masked their faces, and disguised themselves as bandits. Although unarmed, they were elite—one a level-six warrior, the other a level-six magus. Even barehanded, they feared no ordinary men.

Meanwhile, Kevin and the professor traversed the Venomous Forest. It was their second visit, but the vast woods made seeking gorillas a daunting task. They prepared for a stay of several weeks, starting with setting up camp.

Last time, the professor had help from his students; now, Kevin assisted, as it was not easy for a man of his age. With the tent pitched and a meal eaten, they rested for the night, oblivious to the two lurking figures spying on them. As the vice president was involved, caution prevailed.

The next morning, Kevin and the professor packed up their tent, with Kevin leading, sword in hand. Not far behind, the two Smitda men rose after a night of squatting, stretching cramped legs and resuming their pursuit. Their endurance marked them as true experts; few ordinary folk could squat for so long.

"Professor, are we just searching aimlessly?" Kevin asked as they walked.

"There’s no other way. After the last incident, the gorillas will have learned and likely changed their location," the professor replied, scanning the surroundings for signs of gorilla activity. The Smitda men followed cautiously.

They wandered until noon, when the professor suddenly halted. "Shh!"

Kevin fell silent. Both listened intently and faintly heard an indescribable sound from ahead and to the right. They exchanged glances, nervous and excited, crouched quietly, and crawled forward without a sound. Finally, parting the grass, they glimpsed the heart of their mission.

A male gorilla pressed hard upon a female, the two creatures engaged in unspeakable activities. After a moment, the male straightened, his "hands" manipulating the female's intimate parts, eliciting inexpressible cries. Soon, the male lay down, and the female mounted him, continuing their secret acts. They changed positions several times, and with a final shudder, both gorillas collapsed onto the ground, faces bearing indescribable expressions.