Chapter 82: Meeting the Vice Principal

Even the crow’s newfound ability came as a pleasant surprise to Kevin. From now on, it would be another asset whenever he went to the tavern, and a disaster for every other bard. Yet Kevin felt not the slightest pang of guilt. After all, a bard was meant to wander; the true bard was one who traveled far and wide. If they could not make a living here, they could always go elsewhere. Kevin simply happened to be better at it. And was being better really a sin?

For the moment, however, Kevin’s main profession was still soldiering, with bardic pursuits merely a sideline. He would never trust the crow lightly. The fact that he had not yet formed a contract with it was itself a precaution. Performing and bantering with the crow was only a way to deepen their bond. As for the results, he could only do his best and leave the rest to fate.

The next day, Kevin returned to the Royal Academy, intending to see Vice Principal Luke. He had left a note the day before and asked the gate guard to pass it on. Fortunately, the guard informed him that the professor was free today and that he could go in.

Kevin quickly thanked him, asked for the office’s location, and set off at once.

The vice principal’s office was in a separate three-story building, the very heart of the Royal Academy, where the principal, vice principal, and other important figures all worked. Guards stood at the entrance, and although Kevin had visited the academy many times, he had never been allowed inside here.

But today, since the vice principal had agreed, he was naturally an exception. The elemental presence within the building was far denser than outside, and in some places a visible radiance even shimmered in the air. In the center stood a hall, and in the middle of it was a geometric arrangement of several massive steel rings overlapping at odd angles. Kevin could not tell whether it was an artistic sculpture or a magic formation, but it looked extraordinarily refined.

Following the signs on the doors, Kevin found Vice Principal Luke’s office, knocked, and heard a voice from within: "Come in."

He pushed the door open and entered. The office was crowded with things: the desk was piled high with papers, the walls were covered in all sorts of magical implements of unknown purpose, along with several beast skulls. Against one wall stood a cabinet containing animal specimens. Among them was a crow specimen, but no parrot specimen.

"Vice Principal," Kevin greeted him, "it’s me."

Professor Luke seemed to have been reading. Only after hearing Kevin’s voice did he look up, pleasantly surprised. "Oh, Kevin. Come, sit." He pointed to the sofa beside him.

Kevin sat as directed and offered a polite apology. "Sorry to disturb you, Professor. It’s nothing important, really."

"No matter," the professor replied. "Kevin is practically an acquaintance now. I told the gate guard that in the future, you only need to register if you want to come in."

"Then I’m truly grateful." Kevin smiled, then steered the conversation to the point. "Actually, the main reason I came today is that I’ve run into some strange things lately, and I wanted to ask the professor about them."

"Oh? Let’s hear it."

"Lately I’ve been raising a bird. I wanted to ask what reaction other birds might have if they ate the feed used for military parrots," Kevin asked.

The professor shook his head. "Parrot feed comes in many kinds. If one is awakening the intelligence of an ordinary parrot, the feed changes at every stage. Some of it must not be eaten indiscriminately, while some of it doesn’t matter."

"Ah." Kevin nodded.

"However, the feed used for fully formed parrots can basically be eaten by any bird without issue," the professor added. "But the feed for young parrots must absolutely not be given to other birds. The military should be keeping that under strict control. Otherwise, something is bound to go wrong."

Kevin nodded, showing that he understood.

"In fact, ever since military parrots appeared, many mages who keep birds, and even mages who keep all sorts of other animals and magical beasts, have come to me. They all hope I can help raise their pets’ intelligence a little, and that has put me in a difficult position as well." The professor shook his head. "For some mid- to high-tier magical beasts, I can barely agree, but ordinary animals I have refused across the board."

"Setting aside the technical difficulties, imagine this: if the research actually succeeded, what would happen? If all animals possessed human wisdom, what sort of world would that be? Would cattle, horses, and sheep still be willing to labor for humankind? Would they revolt? Might they even produce some outstanding genius who would lead them toward prosperity?" The professor shook his head. "The human race, and indeed the other races on this continent, have reached their present scale because of wisdom. With wisdom comes creation, with wisdom comes inheritance, with wisdom comes the ability to learn from those before us, and thus to grow stronger and stronger."

Kevin casually interjected, "Even cattle, sheep, and horses have people trying to awaken their intelligence?"

The professor chuckled. "To tell you the truth, your Thunder Knight Order’s commander, General Oder, came to ask me to awaken the intelligence of his mount. In the end, I refused."

Kevin was mildly shocked and, for a moment, did not know what to say.

"Many mages tell me they will keep a close watch on their pets, that the creature will remain their pet until death and never go out causing trouble. Some even say it has already been neutered," the professor went on, growing talkative. "But I still refused. This kind of thing cannot be allowed to start. Once it starts, people will inevitably lose control."

"Mid- to high-tier magical beasts are not a major problem, because their reproductive ability is low to begin with, and they already possess considerable intelligence. Raising it a little more is no great issue. Moreover, the degree of control over such beasts is far stricter than over ordinary animals." The professor answered. "But beasts are different. The consequence of awakening their intelligence is something society cannot currently bear. Not to mention the other animals, even the parrots we have now already present many issues. The most obvious is retirement."

"At present, we do not dare let them retire, but they are, after all, intelligent beings with their own thoughts. They will wonder: why can humans retire, but we cannot? Why are we treated as inferior? The races of this continent gained thought, and so the history of this continent is almost a history of war." The professor paused, fell silent for a moment, and then cut himself off. "Forget it. I won’t say more."

Kevin nodded. "So the absence of parrot specimens here is for a similar reason?"

"There used to be some, but they’ve been put away now," the professor replied.

Kevin looked at the crow specimen and said nothing for a long while. Even though his bond with the crow was still young, seeing another crow preserved in glass and dust stirred a faint sadness in him. If the crow itself were to come and see this, how would it feel? It was said that even ordinary crows hold funerals for their companions, and remember the person who killed them.

"Let me ask something at random: if some animal were suddenly to awaken its intelligence on its own, what should be done?" Kevin asked.

The professor smiled. "Usually the people who ask that are really trying to steal parrot feed and give it to their own pets."

Kevin felt awkward. "I was just asking."

"Then I’ll answer you. In general, that’s impossible," the professor replied. "Don’t think awakening a parrot is a simple matter. It isn’t just about eating. Some things cannot be disclosed. Of course, offspring born from already awakened parents have a certain chance of awakening directly."

"But in any case, if there is any abnormal awakening, you should bring it here immediately and let us handle it," the professor said.

Kevin nodded, his expression casual, as though he really had asked only out of idle curiosity. He then changed the topic, asking about the later developments involving the baboon mating images, whether any academic problems had been solved, and whether they had earned much money.

Kevin tried to steer the conversation toward money as much as possible, making it seem as though he had traveled all this way simply to ask for payment. This was mainly to conceal his real purpose. If he asked about the crow and then left, even if his questions were subtle, the professor would inevitably grow suspicious. Anyone who appeared out of nowhere must have a reason for doing so, and Kevin could only offer the professor the reason of wanting money.

As for that, the professor did not mind much. Who could live without money these days? It was understandable. Besides, Kevin had successfully protected him twice. The professor was generous enough to promise that if another mission arose, he would again let Kevin serve as escort. Although both of Kevin’s escort assignments had involved mishaps, both had ultimately been resolved perfectly. And the second time, with those two Smida experts involved, even if another mercenary company had been dispatched, there would likely still have been no guarantee of complete safety.

At the same time, the professor casually handed Kevin a cup. It was the same model as the one the gorilla had used as a chamber pot. Supposedly, after the students heard that the professor had lost the cup, they presented him with another one. It, too, could be infused with battle aura and would glow.

Though in ordinary use it was merely a drinking cup, it was exquisitely made and contained a magic formation, making it a fine work of craftsmanship.

Kevin was delighted, and even asked whether the original "chamber pot" the gorilla had used was still around. Back then, he had tricked the Smida experts by calling it the Chamber Pot War and sent them hurling upward repeatedly, which ultimately brought rescue forces down on them. He thought the brightness of this glowing object was quite good; at the very least, it could be mounted on the front of a catapult and used as a headlamp.

Luke naturally had no objection. He took the broken "chamber pot" from the bottom shelf of the cabinet. Although it had been washed clean and the smell completely removed, the bottom of the cup was still cracked. Aside from glowing, it had no use left.

Kevin happily accepted it, then took both cups and bade the professor farewell.

By the time he returned to camp, it was already noon. After lunch, Kevin went to look for his crow again. He was told that it had once more gone off to tease the pug. Kevin could now see clearly that the pug was far weaker than the crow. Even in sparring, it would be of little help to the crow, and the bird hardly lacked for food. Teasing the pug was simply a pastime.

"Come on, it’s time to train!" Kevin called to the crow. By now, the crow no longer feared him. At once it abandoned the pug and flew onto Kevin’s shoulder.

He dragged out the catapult and finally began testing the construct he had long been envisioning. First, he pulled the machine onto an open patch of ground, then planted a straw man about three hundred meters ahead. It was now December; the land lay open, the view stretched unbroken to the horizon, and the solitary straw man stood out especially sharply.

Kevin returned to the catapult, adjusted the angle and distance, raised the counterweight, placed a shoe in the throwing basket, and then turned to the crow. "The method I told you about, you should be able to understand, right? There’ll definitely be some trouble in the middle, but it’s fine. We have time. We can test it slowly."

The crow simply cried out hoarsely.

"All right, then hold the shoe, aim for the straw man’s head, and go." Kevin pointed at the shoe. "As for the trick to it, you’ll have to figure that out yourself. Good luck."

The crow slowly approached the shoe, tested it with its claws, changed position a few times, and finally managed to hook onto it. Kevin immediately called, "Ready? Three, two, one, launch!"

With a bang, Kevin pulled the lever, the throwing arm snapped forward, and the crow shot out with the shoe in its grasp, only to lose it in midair. Unfortunately, the shoe merely skimmed the straw man’s head and crashed to the ground.

Instead, Kevin applauded. "Well done. Just keep at it."

"Ah... ah..." The crow flew back again, and Kevin fed it a bit of meat.

"Any new technique is bound to have plenty of difficulties. That’s normal," Kevin encouraged it. "If you want precision, the closer your claws are when you let go, the more accurate it’ll probably be. But that also creates another problem: if you’re too close to the enemy, you’ll inevitably come under attack. How to judge that balance is something only you can figure out."

"If we can master this, it will definitely become a powerful tactical achievement," Kevin said. "Let’s start with throwing shoes. Once you can throw shoes reliably, we’ll move on to stone shot. Once you’ve got stone shot down, the other projectiles should be no problem, because stone shot is the heaviest."

"Ah... ah..." The crow seemed highly motivated, and Kevin was deeply gratified. He immediately took out the shoe again and began proper training.

They trained until evening. From start to finish, the crow practiced with great seriousness and made obvious progress. By the end of the afternoon, it was landing two hits out of every three attempts. Kevin kept encouraging it, but when he thought of the crow specimen in the professor’s office, he could not help sighing.

"By the way, I still haven’t given you a name, have I?" During breaks, Kevin would let it rest for a while and chat about other things. "What would you like to be called?"

The crow stood motionless and did not answer.

"How about calling you Wing of Death?" Kevin asked. "Or... the Nameless One? Something like the Death Gaze in the Dark?"

The crow: "..."

In the end, Kevin still did not name it. He decided that he would wait until the day came when it was forced to speak, and then let it tell him its own name. At the same time, he removed the "Unqualified 6" tag from its foot and replaced it with a red tag bearing a single letter: K. K was Kevin’s own pen name, and in a way, it meant that this crow belonged to him.

At dusk, Kevin still took the crow to the tavern, though today they went to a different one. Once again, someone tried to trade insults with him, but once again, Kevin and the crow defeated him together. Then Kevin casually let the crow perform a few acts, winning thunderous applause.

Thus two more days passed, with training by day and tavern visits at dusk. The crow’s shoe throws were already hitting nearly ninety percent of the time, and Kevin decided to try switching to stone shot. But stone shot was smooth and slippery, impossible to grip firmly, and heavy into the bargain. When launched, the stone would also roll. Unlike a shoe, which was light enough for the crow to steady by force, a stone was heavy; even with a groove carved into it, once it began to roll, it would drag the crow along with it. Kevin was still considering how to improve the design.

At the same time, today was the day the new recruits would enlist. A large crowd of young people had already gathered at the camp gate, looking curiously into the barracks and brimming with anticipation for their military careers.

Near the gate, Kevin even saw Stardet selling books. He was greatly surprised and went over to speak. "The camp allows you to sell your books now?"

"Approval was all it took," Stardet replied. "This is all business opportunity. You don’t understand."

After a moment of astonishment, Kevin asked, "Then when will my book be allowed in?"

"Oh." Stardet nodded. "Soon."