Chapter 5 - Loophole
Cow-Cow had seemed to read my expression. Without hesitation, he crushed the eyeball into mush between his beak and swallowed it whole. Then, turning around with a casual flap of his wings, he pecked at the corpse and began tearing into its flesh.
Speaking of hunger, I realized that I was starving too. My stomach growled with the kind of emptiness that made me wonder if there might be a vase lying around somewhere so that I could smash to summon food.
But of course, there was no such luck. No vases decorated the banks of the stream. I scanned the area, hoping for even a hint of something man-made, but all I found was the endless trees, rocks, water, and the faint smell of decay from the body Cow-Cow was feasting on.
"I guess I'll survive with just water today," I muttered to myself, trying to sound cool.
I turned toward the stream, hoping to spot a fish darting beneath the surface. At the very least, I needed to wash the bloodstains from my body.
As I walked into the water, I stripped off my clothes and scrubbed at my arms, chest, and legs until the crimson stains dissolved into the current. The chilling water washed away my worries about the future.
While I bathed, Cow-Cow flew off. I wondered where he was going. When I finally finished and stepped back onto the bank, dripping and clean, he returned. But he wasn't alone. A dozen crows followed him, each carrying something clutched in its beak.
Cow-Cow landed on my head, as he always did, like I was his personal perch. He dropped an object that bounced off my nose before clattering onto the ground.
I knelt down and picked it up. It was a fragment of a broken clay vase.
Looking up, I saw the other crows dropping similar shards in front of me. They all fixed their black, unblinking eyes on my face, as if waiting for me to reward them. Their expectant gaze was unnerving, like a jury silently demanding payment.
I frowned. "Where did you get these? And besides, I can't spawn food with broken pieces. I need an intact object to break."
"CAAA! CHICKEN!" Cow-Cow screeched.
"No, Cow-Cow. I don't have a chicken."
"CAAA! CHICKEN! NEAR!"
I tilted my head. "Hmm?"
Cow-Cow leapt into the air. The flock followed, rising into the sky and arranging themselves into a loose formation. They circled above me, clearly trying to lead me somewhere.
Fine. I decided to follow these crowns.
I gathered my loot, aka the two bandit knives, the iron spear, and the pouches I had taken from the corpses. Then, I followed the birds.
They guided me eastward, deeper into the woods, until the faint outline of a giant fortress appeared in the distance. Before I reached the main road, however, the crows descended, pointing me toward a destination hidden among the trees.
A shack stood in the forest, or perhaps more accurately, it was a workshop. A thin, elderly man sat at a primitive workbench. He shaped the clay into a bowl by gently patting and smoothing it with his hands.
He was a potter, the OG kind, the kind who existed long before machines and industry had stolen the craft. I remembered from history lessons that ancient potters and craftsmen had lived well. Nobles sought them out, sometimes even hiring them as personal artisans.
But what was this man doing here, in the middle of nowhere? Why had he chosen this lonely patch of woods?
My curiosity drove my intrusive thoughts, leading me to approach him politely.
"Hello, mister. Can I have a moment of your time?"
The old man looked up, startled by my presence. He toppled off his wooden stool and shouted, "I already paid the taxes! I don't have anything else to give you anymore!"
Whoops. I had forgotten that the people of Invidia weren't exactly saints, and I was wearing their leather armor. He must have mistaken me for one of their militia.
To calm him, I tossed my spear aside and raised my hands above my shoulders. "You've misunderstood me, mister. I've come in peace. I'm not from Invidia. I'm just a vagabond."
"A vagabond in Invidia militia armor? Do you think I'm stupid?"
"I'm serious. I found this armor at a battle site southwest of here. I didn't fight for either Avaritia or Invidia."
"…So you're just a gravedigger. Ptut!" He spat onto the ground and rose to his feet, glaring at me with disgust.
"Tell me sooner, you scoundrel! I panicked for nothing! Damn kid, didn't your parents teach you not to steal from the dead, especially from a battlefield? The army will execute you on sight if they catch you posing as their comrades!"
'I could have robbed or murdered you, though,' I thought and inwardly clicked my tongue. Also, I wasn't a kid. I had been in my forties when I died.
As I endured his scolding, my eyes wandered to the pottery scattered around his workshop. Stacks of incomplete pots, vases, dishes, and bowls lay waiting for the kiln. Most of them were cracked, damaged beyond repair.
"Are those the finished products, mister?" I asked.
His pupils dilated, and he smirked. "Take them if you want. You thief."
"But haven't those been fired yet?"
"They're defected garbage. They are going to break anyway. I'll grind them into clay powder later."
My heart raced. This was a gold mine. If my cheat power worked on these, I might be able to summon food.
"Then, can I break them?"
The elder raised an eyebrow and scoffed, clearly amused. "Break them? Well, while you're at it, help me grind those into dust, can you? You want something from me, right? Then, work for it."
"Oh, nice. Coincidentally, I just want to break something similar to giant vases or wooden containers. Can I work here as… a pottery breaker?"
"What in tarnation are you talking about?"
"I mean, I'm looking for a job. Do you accept an apprentice?"
His smirk vanished. He gave me a meaningful look. "What do I get? I don't teach random brats for no reason. What if you're up to something?"
"How about I give you an iron knife?" I pulled out a knife I had looted from the bandit.
"A kitchen knife? Pfft. I'd rather have ten rabbits. At least, it would last me a week!"
"So, ten rabbits, right? Can I pay with other food?"
"Of course! Ten rabbits, and I'll teach you pottery. You will also have to work for me and help me around the house, got it?"
It was an unfair request, since I would be paying him to work here. But I needed to verify that my cheat power worked if I destroyed these incomplete products. If it didn't, I would have to think of another way to make a career.
"Let me test something first. Can I start breaking this garbage pile?"
"You already asked. Go ahead."
I picked up the spear and approached the pile of incomplete pottery. Without hesitation, I struck them with the blunt side. The pots were too soft. They didn't shatter like hardened ceramics. Instead, they flattened under the blows. Only a few cracked properly. I kept smacking them until every piece was wrecked.
Nothing happened at first. I paused, staring at the pile, praying. "Please work."
"Work, what?" the elder asked.
"A miracle."
As soon as I finished speaking, light shimmered from three of the broken containers. Three items floated upward. The radiance was weaker than during the turkey incident, but it was unmistakable.
Two of the items were dumplings, steaming as if they had been freshly cooked. The third was a small jar of wine.
I exhaled in relief. My cheat power still worked.