Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 155 Living and Dying

The weight of the spellbook for this level of sharpness was re-evaluated in Ruger's mind. It seemed lighter, yet also heavier, fluctuating with the words of the apprentice spell seeker before him. For Ruger, this was the reward for his involvement, and the risk he took was the weight of that reward. This guy had gone to peep on someone showering himself, but to ensure he wouldn't be thrown into the Black Prison, he'd taken Ruger along, perfectly utilizing his handsome face to make it seem as if they'd both been peeping through someone's bathroom window.

The two elderly people who were leading the way gradually walked away, and the wine in their hands seemed to make them forget about the people behind them, or they simply didn't care whether the two young people followed or not.

Ruger glanced at Green, who looked apologetic, and took the lead to follow.

"Lord Green, what are your thoughts on the difference between ordinary handwritten spellbooks and spellbooks leaked from the Temple of Knowledge?" Ruger asked.

Green followed in Ruger's footsteps, pondering as he walked.

"The difference between the two is both big and small, depending mainly on the learner's needs," Green said. "The Temple of Knowledge strives to present the spells perfectly to every reader of the book, while the spells that wizards privately copy and spread, even if they are somewhat restrained, are still close to perfect and inevitably contain their own subjective understanding, because that was determined when they first observed and mastered the spell. When people master a spell, they cannot actually observe every aspect of it perfectly. The same spell will have some subtle and imperceptible differences in the hands of different people."

"Of course, this perfection doesn't mean the spell has reached its optimal solution, but rather that the spell initially met the standards for inclusion. This may seem insignificant, but its existence has its own meaning. If the Temple of Knowledge hadn't set a standard for the world, then a spell would be passed down from generation to generation by a hundred people, each with their own understanding. It's like a row of people relaying a message; what might have started as a simple request for a drink could become a request for a thick soup made from a smelly sock served in a wine glass by the time it reaches the last person..."

Green smiled and said, "This is not good for the development of the wizarding world. Of course, while including the first version, the Temple of Knowledge also includes the optimized version of the spell. However, the modifications made by wizards to suit their own individual personalities are not included. No matter how the spells in the world change, the Temple of Knowledge will always preserve the starting point of the spell. This is something that only top wizarding organizations can do. Therefore, the world cannot be without the Temple of Knowledge."

The four of them walked at a leisurely pace, and the surrounding terrain became increasingly open.

The two elderly people suddenly stopped in their tracks.

When Ruger got closer, he saw that they were standing next to a shriveled corpse with sunken eye sockets.

“Sam is dead…” the old vampire said.

"Ah, I remember he was twenty years younger than me..."

"It's nineteen..."

The old man, his face covered in scales, slowly tilted the large wine bottle he had just received. A small amount of brownish wine with a fruity aroma flowed from the bottle and dripped onto the corpse.

The vampire elder quickly reached out to steady the other person's wine bottle.

“He’s already dead, don’t waste his life!” the old vampire said.

The old man with the scales glared and was about to argue, but after glancing at the corpse on the ground, he reluctantly put away the wine bottle.

The two elderly people and the two young people continued to walk deeper into the area.

The road began to branch out, and in many places, the walls, though translucent, emitted a faint, blood-red glow, creating a unique and picturesque scene.

“Are those patterns some kind of writing?” Ruger thought of the blood-red ripples on the cave walls he had seen when he fell.

Green stopped and groped around on a wall he was passing by.

“You could say that, and you could say that,” Green raised his head and walked to Luger, who was waiting for him. The two followed the two old men, and he continued, “That’s not any kind of writing that’s currently in use, but it is definitely recording something. If I’m not mistaken, the ancestor of Blood Fortress had an extremely high level of life. Those residual ripples are a natural manifestation of life reaching a certain level; they are the mysteries of life, the world’s explanation of its power. This place really seems to be the place where he bled…”

"Traces left after a life level reaches a certain height?" Ruger asked.

"It can be understood this way."

As he spoke, Green suddenly quickened his pace.

Ruger followed.

A group of suspicious-looking people were gathered at an intersection, seemingly waiting quietly for something. The arrival of Ruger and his group did not disturb their concentration.

Ruger was somewhat surprised to see nine people gathered at this intersection. Either this place was very important, or the number of survivors in the Black Prison might be greater than he had imagined. The two elderly men who had led the way also stopped.

Ruger noticed that several people waiting quietly in the distance had their eyes closed, seemingly meditating to restore their mental energy.

Green didn't ask any questions. Ruger glanced at him and then quietly sat down next to the old vampire to wait.

If it weren't for the crowds and distractions, he would have really wanted to take out the Lesser Sharpness Technique book he had just acquired and take a look.

Time passed slowly, and in the end, only Ruger and Green were left staring at each other, and the two old men began to meditate.

Suddenly, a deep, angry roar shook everyone to their core, causing them to open their eyes.

The roar came from the long-awaited intersection.

"If you two want to see that first-ring wizard, just follow behind these people. But don't blame us if you accidentally die," the old vampire said, pointing to the people who had been waiting for a long time.

The old man with the scales shrugged at Green.

The nine people in the distance had already begun to set off.

Green glanced at it, smiled, and took out a square-bottled bottle of wine, handing it over.

“Follow them to the end of the road, and you’ll see the person you’re looking for,” the old man with the mottled scales said in a low voice as he took the wine bottle. “Also, don’t go too far ahead.”

After the two elderly people finished speaking, they happily took the three bottles of wine, one large and one small, each with a different flavor, and strode away.

Ruger and Green exchanged a glance and followed the nine men into the intersection.

As soon as Ruger entered the intersection, he heard a heavy thud coming from deep within the road, like someone pounding a cave wall with a giant hammer.

Luger glanced at Green, only to see that the guy was still walking with a firm stride.

The two walked at a slow pace, but they gradually caught up with the nine guys from before.

They immediately slowed down.

Loud, thudding sounds could be heard from the depths of the road from time to time.

The nine people were roughly divided into four groups. Two of them were clearly loners, one group consisted of two people, and another group had as many as five people.

The group of five was the first to stop. They stopped and started arguing, then began to fight like ordinary people. Ruger had clearly seen them meditating before, but now they seemed like local thugs who only knew how to throw punches.

Perhaps they had an unspoken understanding, so they could only exchange blows to satisfy their urges, Ruger thought.

Ruger and his companion passed by silently, and Ruger could still hear them arguing about who should go next, as if the agreed-upon system of taking turns had a slight flaw.

"Two more guys have gone over there. If we don't decide soon, it'll be too late, you idiots..."

The two continued walking, and could still hear arguing behind them.

As Ruger got closer, he could hear roars and almost incessant mutterings amidst the crashing sounds.

(End of this chapter)