Ch. 25 - Feat - Alert

As the Terran Empire was a nation ruled by spellcasters, any resident living within it recognized creatures like kobolds.

But those low-intelligence creatures that only squeaked and squealed underground, whose scales were taken by mages as materials...

Could they actually evolve individuals capable of studying magic?

The feeling it gave was as absurd as if a mage's material pouch had gained self-awareness and turned around to cast a fireball spell at its master.

[...I've always had this question—during adventures, what role exactly can a bard fulfill?

Do they cower in a corner singing battle hymns to cheer the team on while everyone else fights?

Or after someone dies in battle, do they sing dirges while collecting the bodies?

Personal experience has taught me—it's the latter.

After all, how is feeding the Jackal's corpse to an Ochre Jelly for digestion not collecting bodies?

The corpse won't rot away in nature, and the ooze gets a hearty meal—I'm sure even druids who love protecting the environment would award me a medal for this.]

"Setting up the crisis with action scenes first, then using self-deprecating humor to dissolve the tension at the end... This really does read like a novel's writing style."

She almost couldn't distinguish between fabrication and reality.

Until she saw a critical term—

[Friendship].

"How can this be? The instructor has lived for 120 years and still hasn't comprehended the magic contained within music..."

Geya Yuexi coughed lightly twice, nearly losing her voice.

Compared to mages who studied the Weave externally, listing formulas to cast spells, bards were actually more similar to sorcerers—mostly exploring inwardly the power unique to themselves, whether from bloodline or from talent.

And those methods that could help poets sense the magic of music had long been lost with the decline of the Academy.

If what the author of this journal claimed was true, his very existence was equivalent to an immortal treasure.

And the journal's descriptions were deadly serious.

The monument had served as the 'world's grave,' representing 'historical facts' themselves in the past.

Everything made it impossible for Geya to deny:

"There actually exists a 'true' bard in this world?"

Could he not be from the Poet's Academy?

But rather someone who inherited the mantle of some legendary poet from the past, and was now a free poet traveling the continent?

That must be it.

The journal's author was extremely sensitive to danger, discovering clues from footprints, proving his perceptive abilities far exceeded those of ordinary people—

At least, it  was not something that someone like her—who only wrote manuscripts and sang poems, a product of formal training—could compare to.

But she longed to become such a poet.

She longed to maintain independence even after casting aside her appearance.

Geya grew increasingly curious about the author's experiences—

[...When I realized this kobold might be the one with the highest intelligence among this group, I suddenly realized that humanity might be fucked.

But I also managed to see through its plan. Even though it involved some coincidence and accidents, comparatively speaking, perhaps there's still hope?

Wait, why the hell am I seriously comparing myself to a dog?

I'm beyond saving.]

"Can you not clown around when someone's about to start worshiping you!?"

That admiration that had just risen was instantly shattered to pieces.

Geya couldn't stand it anymore, and immediately saw even more unseemly phrases—

[A talking kobold is certainly precious, but if that's all there is to it, the excitement it brings me is roughly equivalent to a morning handjob.

But then, I caught more information from its scattered words, making me realize that there might be something even more exciting in this world than manual labor—

For instance, discovering a dragon?]

"But—"

Just as they were getting to the point, Geya couldn't help but exclaim,

"They've already gone extinct!"

This continent had long lost any trace of dragons.

The only evidence proving they once existed was an independent city called Longgold City under the Lord's Alliance on the eastern coast of the continent—

And it was precisely because this city stood among dragon bones that people who had forgotten history believed dragons weren't fabricated legends.

[The ruins they've seized as their nest are definitely not simple.

I tried to get more details from Kuru, but this clever kobold seemed to sense that I had ulterior motives toward the 'ancestor' it served, and stopped sharing anything with me.

Its caution was correct. If I discovered that suspected 'dragon egg,' I would definitely try to snatch it and secretly hide it away.

Considering I'm no match for this kobold—it's somewhat embarrassing to say this.

Perhaps I should set out for Longgold City to see if there are any longer-lived species who still remember news about those ruins.]

This poet is actually staying near Longgold City!?

Could this be a coincidence?

That's a dragon.

The legendary creature that all poets have been singing about since entering the Academy!

They grew up listening to stories about dragons.

Legend has it the earliest philandering poet even formed an inseparable bond with them, leading to the appearance of the 'dragonborn' race in the world...

Of course, that was bullshit made up by bards to glorify themselves.

But it precisely proved the weight dragons held in poets' hearts.

Geya pressed her chest to calm her racing heart, her breathing becoming rapid:

"If I could also master magic, I could explore ruins too, I could see a dragon's true form with my own eyes..."

Damn it, she realized she was fantasizing again.

Of course, she definitely wasn't fantasizing about becoming the journal's author—

"I will never approve of those playful dirty jokes in the article!"

[So I must try to leave this town, even though I've just met a pretty nice kid—

Anbi, my first little fan.

She promised to treat me to her first brewed cup of wine when the Harvest Festival arrives.

Because she hopes that when she thinks of fine wine in the future, her tongue would forever be filled with harvest and joy.

But perhaps life is always full of things going against one's wishes.

Regrets are more deeply etched than happiness.

Just like she's already tasted the first drink of her life—

This cup of 'lesson,' she'll definitely remember for a lifetime.]

"..."

The journal reached its conclusion.

Geya, who had been full of complaints, suddenly realized she had nothing to say.

She admitted her voice had been a bit loud earlier—

How do you make a story feel genuine without being overly pretentious?

Add some tense and exciting scenes.

How do you dilute the exhaustion brought by crisis and oppression?

Add some dirty jokes and self-deprecation as a buffer.

How do you keep the crude talk and jokes from seeming too frivolous and greasy?

Add some genuine content and inject real emotions.

The journal's author clearly understood this principle well.

His writing achieved a perfect loop of these three elements...

Geya took a deep breath and sadly discovered that whether she approved or not was utterly meaningless.

The journal's author was perhaps a height that she—and even formally trained poets—could never reach.

Only real things can move hearts.

"If I just copy down the journal to keep for myself rather than publicizing it, I shouldn't be punished, right?"

Geya tried to convince herself,

"I'm not won over by his writing. I'm just trying to learn from his strengths to better improve myself!"

Thinking this, she looked around and found that aside from the two construct guardians, no one was passing by nearby.

She quickly took out her personal notebook.

The pen tip fell, and elegant handwriting flowing like water until it filled the pages.

...

[Keen perception, advance sensing of danger, and decisiveness to never place yourself in peril.

Be a sharp poet or a rakish ranger?

You actually chose both.

You've obtained 'Feat: Alert':

While you are conscious, you remain vigilant to approaching dangers at all times.

Note:

Sucker punch! Failed. Backstab! Failed. Ambush! Failed. Damn it, just how many eyes does this person have!?]

Tang Qi looked at the newly obtained reward...

And it wasn't even finished yet.

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