Specialization: Alertness

As a nation ruled by spellcasters, the Tyron Empire is a place where any resident is familiar with creatures like kobolds.

But these unintelligent beings that only squeak underground, whose scales are even used as materials by mages...

Could actually evolve individuals who study magic?

It feels as bizarre as a mage's material pouch gaining sentience, turning around, and casting a fireball spell at its owner.

[...I've always had a question: what roles can a bard truly fulfill during an adventure?

Are they meant to huddle in a corner singing battle songs to boost morale during team fights?

Or perhaps sing dirges to collect the bodies after someone falls in battle?

My personal experience tells me it's the latter.

After all, isn't it a form of collecting bodies to have a Jackal's corpse digested by an Ochre Jelly monster?

The bodies won't rot in nature, and the slime monster can have a full meal. I'm sure any Druid who cares about the environment would award me a medal.]

"Start with action to build tension, then resolve it with self-deprecating humor... It really reads like a novel."

She could barely distinguish between fiction and reality.

Until she saw a key phrase--

[Art of Making Friends].

"How can this be? My mentor, who lived for 120 years, couldn't even decipher the magic contained within music..."

Geya coughed twice, her voice nearly failing her.

Unlike mages who cast spells by studying the magic net externally and listing formulas.

Bards, much like warlocks, tend to explore their own inner power, whether from their bloodline or their innate talent.

And the methods that could help bards feel the magic of music have long been lost with the decline of the academies.

If the author of this journal speaks the truth, their very existence is an immortal treasure.

And the journal's descriptions are remarkably convincing.

The stone tablet, as the "grave of the world," historically represents "historical fact" itself.

Nothing allowed Geya to deny it:

"There really are 'true' bards in this world?"

Did he not originate from the Poet Academy?

Instead, did he inherit the legacy of some legendary bard from the past and is now a free poet traveling the continent?

That must be it.

The journal's author is extremely perceptive of danger, finding the footprints proves his insight far surpasses ordinary people--

At least, it's not something a book-smart student like her, who only knows how to write essays and sing poems, could compare to.

But she yearns to become a poet like that.

She desires to maintain her independence even when stripped of her outward appearance.

Geya's curiosity about the author's experiences grew with each passing moment--

[...When I realized this kobold might be the most intelligent one in this group, I suddenly realized humanity might be doomed.]

[But I did see through its plan. Even with some coincidences and accidents, compared to that, perhaps there's still hope?]

[No, why am I seriously comparing myself to a dog?]

[I'm hopeless.]

"Can you stop being silly when I'm about to admire you!?"

The nascent aspiration she had just felt was instantly shattered.

Geya could no longer stand it, and immediately saw even more unsightly words--

[A talking kobold is certainly precious, but if that's all, the excitement it brings me is about the same as a morning's manual labor.

But then, from its few words, I captured more information, leading me to realize that there might be things in this world more exciting than manual labor--

For example, discovering a Dragon?]

"But--"

Seeing that they were getting to the point, Geya couldn't help but exclaim, "They've been extinct for ages!"

Dragons had long since vanished from this continent.

The only evidence of their past existence was an independent city called Dragon Gold City, under the Lord Alliance on the continent's eastern coast--

It was precisely because this city stood amidst the skeletons of Dragons that people who had forgotten history believed Dragons were not just fictional legends.

[Their usurped ruins are by no means simple.]

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

Its wariness was justified. If I found that suspected "Dragon Egg," I would definitely try to snatch it and hide it away.

Considering I wasn't a match for this kobold—which was rather embarrassing to admit.

Perhaps I should head to Dragon Gold City and see if there were any long-lived beings who still remembered news about that ruin.

This bard actually stopped near Dragon Gold City!?

Could this be a coincidence?

Those were Dragons.

They were legendary creatures that all bards had often sung about since entering the academy!

They had grown up listening to stories of Dragons.

Legend had it that the earliest dashing bard even forged an unbreakable bond with them, leading to the existence of the "Dragonborn" race...

Of course, that was just something the bard made up to flatter himself.

But it perfectly proved the weight Dragons held in the hearts of poets.

Geya suppressed the pounding of her heart, her breathing quickening:

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

Damn it, she realized she was fantasizing again.

Of course, it wasn't about becoming a log author—

"I will never approve of the frivolous, suggestive remarks in the article!"

[So I have to try to leave this town, even though I just met a nice little friend—

Anbi, my first little fan.

She promised to treat me to her first brewed wine when the Harvest Festival arrived.

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

But perhaps life is always full of things that don't go as planned.

Regret is more unforgettable than contentment.

Just like she has already tasted her first glass of wine—

She would definitely remember this "lesson" for a lifetime.]

"..."

The log reached its end.

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

She admitted her voice had been a bit loud just now—

How to write a story that touches the heart without being overly sentimental?

Add some thrilling and exciting plot points.

How to alleviate the fatigue brought by crisis and pressure?

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

How to make the crude remarks and jokes not seem overly frivolous and greasy?

Add some heartfelt content and inject real emotion.

The author of the log clearly understood this.

His writing achieved a perfect closed loop of all three...

Geya took a deep breath and sadly realized that her approval or disapproval was utterly meaningless.

The author of the log was perhaps at a height that she, and even the poets who graduated from the academy, could never reach.

Only genuine things can move people's hearts.

"If I just copy the log down and keep it to myself, without spreading it, I probably won't be punished, right?"

Geya tried to convince herself, "I'm not convinced by his writing; I'm just trying to learn his strengths to improve myself!"

Thinking this, she looked around and saw no one passing by except for two construct guards.

She quickly took out her portable notebook.

The tip of the pen fell, and her elegant handwriting flowed like water until the pages were filled.

[Keen insight, early perception of danger, and decisive action to stay out of harm's way.

Should I be a perceptive poet or a dashing ranger?

You chose to be both.]

[You have obtained "Specialty: Alertness":

While conscious, you remain vigilant against impending moments of danger.

Notes:

Sap! Failed. Backstab! Failed. Ambush! Failed. Damn it, how many eyes does this guy have!?]

Tang Qi looked at the newly acquired reward...

This wasn't the end of it.