“I’m looking for a Platinum Feather.”
It was a material that captivated many, shimmering with the brilliance of polished silver. Despite its beauty, it was essentially nothing more than a high-value trade item. Even if one processed it into equipment, it provided no special magical effects.
However, the Werewolf’s eyes widened in shock upon hearing the name.
“A Platinum Feather? You mean the rare plumage that occasionally grows on a White Hawk!?”
“P-Please, not so loud! For various reasons, I’m trying to keep this search as quiet as possible!”
“M-My apologies… But that feather isn’t something you can find through mere effort.”
Platinum Feathers did not grow on every White Hawk. They appeared only on individuals born with an unusually high amount of mana. They weren't exactly Unique Monsters—it was more akin to how some creatures were simply born larger or stronger than others—but even among those special individuals, the feathers were a rarity.
“I’m sure you know this, Lord Hero, but you won't get your hands on one unless you have incredible luck.”
The difficulty lay in the feather’s nature. The moment a White Hawk growing one was slain, the mana would drain away, and the brilliant plume would instantly revert into an ordinary feather. The same thing happened if the bird sensed an enemy; it would expend its mana to flee, causing the feather to lose its luster.
Thus, as the Werewolf suggested, the method for obtaining a Platinum Feather was officially considered a mystery.
At least, it was to the general public.
I already know the workaround for that, Ren thought.
He knew exactly how to secure one. First, the White Hawk had to be fully sated. Then, one had to put it into a deep sleep without alerting it to any presence. Finally, the feather had to be "borrowed" from the living bird before it woke up. There was no need to take its life.
Back in the game, I’d find a hawk before it spotted me and toss food its way. Once it was full, I’d knock it out.
There were two ways to induce that state: magic or a precise physical blow to the head. The reason the bird had to be full was that its internal mana was most stable when it was sated. Between these strict requirements and the fact that White Hawks were naturally elusive, the secret to obtaining a Platinum Feather remained unknown to almost everyone. There were virtually no researchers looking into it, either.
Consequently, every feather on the market was the result of a lucky find—likely one that had fallen off naturally.
“But why do you need one, Lord Hero?”
“It’s for a gift. I’ve already checked the local shops, but unfortunately, nobody has them in stock.”
“Then why not send a letter to a merchant guild in the Imperial Capital? With the reward from the Steel-Eating Gargoyles, you have plenty of funds. I’m sure you could secure one, even if the price is steep.”
“Ahaha… that would take too long.”
Licia’s birthday was less than a month away. Even if he sent a letter immediately, the logistics of the transaction would eat up all his remaining time. He couldn't help but regret moving so slowly.
“Is it a gift for the Young Lady?”
“Something like that,” Ren replied bashfully.
The Werewolf offered a gentle smile. Ren had initially intended to keep his distance from this man, so going to such lengths to find a precious gift for Licia might have seemed inconsistent. Yet, for some reason, the doubt didn't cross his mind. He simply wanted her to be happy. Moreover, he felt that a subpar gift wouldn't do for the daughter of the lord who was doing so much to help rebuild his home village.
The only remaining problem was that White Hawks were rarely seen.
“You seem quite confident. Do you have a lead?”
“No, none at all,” Ren admitted flatly. “In fact, I’m still trying to figure out where to even start looking for them. It’s going to be a long road.”
“I see… Your proactivity is as impressive as ever.” The Werewolf paused. “Well, I can’t guarantee you’ll find the feather, but I do know a path where a flock of White Hawks passes through.”
It was exactly the information Ren had been praying for. He nearly lunged across the table.
“R-Really!?”
“Yeah. Let’s see… I’ll show you on the map over there.”
The Werewolf pointed toward the map posted near the guild’s bulletin board. Ren was still in the middle of his meal, and the man suggested they wait until he finished, but Ren was too restless to sit still. He insisted on seeing the map immediately.
According to the Werewolf, the flock usually passed through the Eastern Forest before noon.
I see…
The location was several hours deeper than the fissure he had visited previously. To make it in time, he would have to leave Clausel much earlier than usual.
“I’d offer to help you with the hunt, but I have to leave town shortly for a commission. I’ll be heading out right after this.”
“The information is more than enough. But you’re leaving for a while?”
“That’s right. You know how the Baldur Mountains have been unusually cold lately? Baron Clausel placed a request with the guild. I’ll be transporting firewood and magic tools to several villages.”
“I’ve heard this winter might be a harsh one.”
“Yeah. Based on my experience, it’s going to be brutal. Moving this early in the summer—Baron Clausel certainly works fast.”
Since the man was heading out to help prepare for the winter, Ren didn't want to impose any further. He thanked the Werewolf once more with a deep bow.
I’ll start my search tomorrow.
Ren stood there lost in thought, while beside him, the Werewolf stared intently into the boy’s eyes, remaining silent as if searching for something hidden deep within them.
“My apologies. I must get going.”
“Thank you for helping me right before your departure. Please, be careful on the road.”
“Haha, don't mention it. Like I said, it’s give and take.”
The Werewolf eventually parted ways with Ren and exited the guild. He joined his fellow adventurers to confirm their route for the evening departure. Standing among the group, he glanced back toward the city of Clausel one last time.
“…A kindness so profound it borders on the idiotic. It’s practically farcical,” he whispered to himself, a thin smirk playing on his lips.
The following morning, Ren departed the Old Wing several hours earlier than his usual routine. He reached the city gates before dawn, greeted the knight on duty, and set out onto the highway. By the time the morning sun began to paint the landscape, he had already made significant progress.
“Let's do this.”
“Hihin!”
The chestnut mare—formerly belonging to Jelququ—gave a spirited whinny.
Ren had named her Io, after a character in a novel from his previous world. She seemed to like the name, as she had already started responding to it. She was a gentle mare, though she had one particular quirk.
“We have to hurry, Io.”
Ren spoke over the rhythmic clip-clop of her hooves.
“Once I get the Platinum Feather, I need to take it to the tailor who sold me my clothes so he can process it. We have to factor in that time, too.”
“…Brrrru.”
“Hey, don't just start eating grass because you're bored.”
Io ignored him, stretching her neck to munch on the greenery along the roadside. She was well-fed at the manor, so he wasn't sure why she was so insistent on snacking.
“Well, whatever…”
Eventually, she was satisfied and resumed her walk. Ren gazed into the depths of the forest stretching out from the highway and then looked up at the sky. He offered a silent prayer to the Main God Elfen, hoping for a successful hunt.
Several hours later, Ren reached his destination—the area where the White Hawks were expected to pass. High trees towered above, laden with bright red fruits that looked like clusters of grapes. According to the Werewolf, these were a favorite of the hawks. Flocks were known to gather here in the morning to feed.
This is perfect.
It saved him the trouble of feeding them himself. To stay hidden, he used the power of the Wooden Magic Sword to blend into the foliage. He had even applied a scent-masking perfume he’d bought at the guild to hide his human track.
Crouched on a thick branch, hidden behind a curtain of leaves and vines, Ren focused.
The real question is whether one with a Platinum Feather will actually show up.
Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a shape like a drifting white cloud appeared in the distance. It was the flock. They flew in a straight line toward his position. Ren ducked lower, holding his breath.
The White Hawks began to land on the branches around him, chirping as they reached for the fruit.
Is there one…?
He scanned them one by one. In the game, the encounter rate for a Platinum Feather was abysmal—you might see hundreds of birds before finding one. To make matters worse, you had to initiate the sequence without being spotted. It was an item governed by frustratingly low odds.
He prepared himself for disappointment. If he couldn't find one after several days of searching, he would simply have to find another gift.
The hawks shifted and fluttered, changing positions constantly. Ren tried to keep a tally at first but eventually gave up. As the first flock finished and flew off, another arrived to take its place.
Dozens passed. Then a hundred. Still, there was no sign of the silver shimmer.
Maybe I was being too optimistic, Ren thought with a wry smile.
But then—
Wait…
A sudden, brilliant flash of light struck his eyes. It was a reflection of the sun, yet there should have been nothing in the trees capable of producing such a glare. Ren squinted toward the source.
No way…
The feeling that this would be an impossible ordeal vanished instantly. His gaze was locked onto a single White Hawk feeding on a nearby branch. There, among the white plumage, was a tail feather that sparkled with a heavenly radiance.
“Kuruu!”
Ren’s heart began to hammer against his ribs. His palms grew damp against the rough bark of the branch.
It’s actually here!
He couldn't take his eyes off the bird. Seeing that silver plume in person, he knew he had to have it. He reached for a stone he’d brought along, intending to knock the bird out with a precise throw. But just as he took aim—
Seriously!?
The birds that had finished eating began to take flight. One by one, they flapped their wings and ascended. The hawk with the Platinum Feather followed suit, letting go of its branch.
Ren wasn't a master marksman; his window of opportunity vanished in a heartbeat. If he threw now and missed, the bird would sense the threat and the feather would lose its mana.
He realized a physical strike was no longer an option. He had to try something else.
He summoned the Thief’s Magic Sword—the ring glinting on his finger—and kicked off the thick branch with every ounce of strength in his legs.
“Kuruu?”
Startled by the sudden noise, the target bird began to turn its head. But before it could fully react, Ren was upon it.
This is the only way!
His hand swept down through the air a fraction of a second before the bird could flee. A sharp gust of wind brushed against the hawk's body.
“Gaa! Gaa!”
“Kuru! Kururu!”
The surrounding hawks erupted into a panicked chorus, flapping their wings frantically to get away from the boy who had appeared out of nowhere. Ren, having reached the peak of his jump, began to plummet.
He felt no fear. He swung the Wooden Magic Sword toward the ground, manifesting a network of thick roots and vines to catch his fall. The vines acted like a safety net, absorbing his momentum. As he came to a rest, he felt a weight in his hand.
Please let it be there.
He felt the sensation of a successful "steal," but he was almost too nervous to look. He waited a long several seconds before finally opening his palm.
Two brilliant feathers fluttered down.
“…Haha.”
His laugh was dry, his throat parched from the sheer tension of the moment. But the joy spreading across his face was unmistakable.
“I might have used up a lifetime’s worth of luck today.”
The Platinum Feather was a rarity among rarities. To obtain one using the probability-based theft of the Thief’s Magic Sword was a miracle that defied calculation. Ren looked at the silver plumage resting against his chest, his entire body trembling with a sense of triumph he had never known before.