Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 596 Cloth
The browsing and scanning remained simple and unadorned. To avoid making his actions too abrupt, the monk would occasionally stop recording his work and pick out a couple of books to read.

As he turned a page, absorbing knowledge, he multitasked with his thoughts, pondering another purpose for his visit to Candleburg.

The rise of the Son of Baal was ordained, and the gods tacitly agreed to it. Some watched from the sidelines, while others secretly plotted against it, but few dared to intervene personally.

The chaos caused by the Three Gods of Death—the Rebellion of the Saints—truly terrified everyone, and no one had any interest in getting involved in that kind of trouble again.

Otherwise, just considering the outrageous things Sarovock did in Candlekeburg, how many lives would be enough to pay for it?
A mere few shapeshifters caused such a mess; how much do they look down on the Scroll Guardians and the Omar behind them?
Only a madman like Cyril, who's been chanting himself silly, would suddenly appear. Maybe he ate too much cheap food back then and his appetite got too big.

The big shots are all very cautious, so of course he, a little fish, wouldn't dare to jump around. Who knows if he might jump onto the dinner table and become nourishment for the growth of the son of slaughter?

But it is precisely because the situation has been stirred up that it is easy to take advantage of the situation. If you don't seize the opportunity to make a profit, how much can you accumulate by relying solely on your own small plot of land, no matter how hard you try?

When the storm suddenly rises, one will likely be like a small boat adrift on a vast ocean, unable to control one's own destiny.

With more possessions come more attachments, but how to snatch chestnuts from the fire is a matter of careful consideration, lest one end up getting burned.

Seeing the true face of the protagonist, Aberdel, is fine, but as for trying to build a relationship with him, I'd better not.

Even that old rogue Elminster only dares to play tricks and riddles; Master Zhang's awareness isn't high enough to sacrifice his own hundred-odd pounds of flesh as nourishment for the protagonist.

but,

Perhaps I can…

A tiny idea suddenly popped into his head.

"Good morning, Mr. Chanem. Would you like some hot coffee?"

Winthrop greeted the mage who came out of the bedroom with his usual friendly smile, only to suddenly notice that the mage was carrying a cage containing a strange bird that he did not recognize.

It's best not to make things too clear about the monk's affairs. The innkeeper pretended not to see anything and didn't ask any further questions.

"certainly,"

The monk smiled, took the cup, took a sip, placed the birdcage he was carrying on the counter, and then began to introduce the birdcage:

"Mr. Winthrop, this is my newly summoned pet. Could you please prepare some birdseed for it as well? No need for that, corn kernels or something will suffice."

"I will handle it."

The boss patted his chest, creating another wave of meat, and turned to shout:

"Eamon, you didn't go back to sleep, did you? Go to the stables and get some corn kernels and oats."

"Okay, okay, don't yell at me. You're disturbing the coyotes outside the wall!"

An ordinary day begins with a quarrel between the adoptive father and daughter. Before long, Ai Meng comes bounding over with a small cloth bag in her hand.

Here you go!

The girl tossed the bag onto the counter and crowded around.

"Dad, why have you changed your taste? You're stealing food from the pony."

"Go, go, go, quickly wipe those tables by the door clean for me."

"Alright, alright, you always know how to boss around a weak woman like me."

Aimon hummed and hawed, agreeing verbally, but didn't move an inch.

She was looking at Mr. Zhang's birds.

Yes, it's a legitimate bird.
That doesn't seem right either, because Doflamingo, that scoundrel, is hardly a decent person at all.

Thick-skinned and black-hearted, cunning and foul-mouthed, yet he has such a good-looking face.

As the saying goes, "Practice makes one's physique resemble that of a crane." Doflamingo doesn't need to practice; he already bears an eight or nine-tenths resemblance to a red-crowned crane.

With its long neck, agile figure, and beautiful plumage, even the red crest on its head bears a striking resemblance.

The only drawback is that its plumage is not as pure white as that of a crane; it looks more like an old crane that has just returned from being dusted.

But for the girl who had grown up in Candle Castle, such magnificent birds were only things she had heard of and longed for in books. Then she saw that the monk had already untied the cloth bag and was preparing to feed the birds.

"I'll do it, I'll do it!"

The little girl eagerly replied:
“Mr. Chanem, I’ve been feeding horses and raising chickens since I was a child, I’ve done all sorts of work, let me do it.”

"You silly girl, what do you want to do?"

Winslop was a little annoyed. This girl was usually mischievous, but now she was really going too far.

"It's alright. Curiosity is the best gift we mortals receive, if not for the fact that it is always stolen away by the years."

The monk appeared quite magnanimous, picking up a few kernels of corn and holding them on his fingertips before offering them to the thief bird's beak, which obediently ate them like a chicken pecking at rice.

"But this bird is proud and irritable, so it might be difficult to get along with."

"It's okay, I'm not afraid."

Aimon excitedly took the cloth bag and began feeding the thief bird in a very professional manner.

The result, of course, was that she made a fool of herself. No matter how much she tried to please him, the handsome bird paid her no attention whatsoever, turning its head to one side and only glancing at the girl with a sidelong look.

Whether it was just her imagination or not, Aimon felt that the bird's sidelong glances were full of contempt.

"What kind of stupid bird is this?!"

The girl ground her back teeth, biting down and swallowing the anticipation and surprise she had just felt.

"Fool~"

?

The girl was stunned and could hardly believe her ears.

"What did you say?"

"Fool~ Fool~"

Aimon glared fiercely at the thief bird, his fingers practically reaching into the cage to poke it on the head.

In the end, I didn't dare to make a move, partly because I was worried about the bird's owner nearby, and partly because I was afraid of being pecked.

'Even a chicken peck hurts that much, what would happen if this thing hit me?'

Xiao Ai stared angrily at the thief bird's sharp beak, thinking to herself, and for a moment, the usually mischievous girl was at a loss for what to do with it.

"The Despair Bird is a rather wicked creature, but there are ways to deal with it."

The monk opened the cage and, under the somewhat tense gazes of the other two, took out the thief bird, gently stroking its back and smoothing its feathers.

The latter wore an expression of enjoyment, casually pecking at a few mouthfuls of birdseed, completely oblivious to his earlier scoundrelly behavior.

Seeing the other party's completely different behavior, Ai Meng's reddish eyes widened in surprise.

"Don't be afraid, give it a try."

The monk handed over the bird food bag and offered words of encouragement.

The girl tried to groom the thief bird's feathers, but her hands were a little clumsy. However, seeing that the bird didn't react too strongly, she gradually got used to it, and her posture and technique showed some skill.

"You see, if you use the right method, it's actually quite well-behaved."

The monk spoke gently. Whether Ai Meng believed it or not was unclear, but Master Zhang, standing behind the girl, kept his eyes fixed on the thief bird and emphasized the word "good," so the thief bird had no choice but to believe it.

Of course, they had no choice but to behave.

Turning the clock back to last night, in a room at the Candleburg Inn, a man and a bird stared at each other, bewildered.

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