Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 186 Chance and Inevitability

A seemingly random greeting caught everyone off guard.

The man in the blood-red robe scratched his head: "Just this one sentence? Do I know this person?"

“You know, while all the major organizations obey the Supreme Council, they also have their own inviolable bottom lines. Even the Supreme Council cannot force us to reveal the information of the client. Besides, I think you might have lost your mind,” said the stubble-bearded middle-aged man. “Among the people who know you, who would send you such a greeting?”

The man in the blood-red robe nodded in agreement and said, "Perhaps I'm still not quite sober. People who know me wouldn't use such low-level correspondence."

“It’s probably because your offspring have offended some remarkable little fellow that they came up with this idea,” the middle-aged wizard said, rubbing his stiff stubble. “Since we’ve accepted the commission and everything is in accordance with the rules, we must deliver the letter to our contracted client. Everything is within the regulations.”

"How could they know I was asleep, and even obtain my true bloodline name?"

The man in the blood-red robe seemed to be just beginning to wake up, and only now did he react, showing some surprise.

“That’s why I said he’s a remarkable little guy, probably no more than a third-ringed one. He probably couldn’t remember your real name, he just wrote it down bit by bit on this scroll. The beginning and end of these characters are clearly separated by many years. If your real name were any longer, this scroll would have crumbled. It’s not some high-end item, so I judged it to be a little guy. This might be the best he could get his hands on,” the stubble-faced man said. “Sometimes, to deal with an enemy, you don’t need to be very strong, just have enough understanding and know the other party’s background.”

The man in the blood-red robe always seemed to be a beat slow to react.

"Descendants? A little of my blood was used in the experiment, so strictly speaking, they are indeed my offspring," the man in the blood-red robe said. "Over a thousand years, they have multiplied many times, and my injuries have healed in my slumber. They have fulfilled their mission."

The unshaven middle-aged man suddenly chuckled.

“Your injuries have long since healed, haven’t they? Why have you been asleep for a thousand years? You’re questioning my professionalism. A wizard who is truly asleep due to injury is in accordance with the regulations and can have his sleep extended. I won’t call you out to sign for it,” the stubble-faced man said, pointing upwards. “You’ve been staying asleep because you’re stealing it, stealing its power.”

The man in the blood-red robe reacted quickly this time.

"Steal its power? No, no, no, how could I dare interfere with that lord's experiment! I'm just using this stage to take a nap," said the man in the blood-red robe.

Ruger twitched his ears, listening to the two wizards above him as if they were having a casual chat.

Memories began to surface in his mind.

Did I kill Jaxce? Is Elena next door alright? Could she have died along with me?
He had a pretty good idea that the scroll in the person in the air was probably from the box he had thrown into the teleportation array.

That greeting came from the bald old wizard of the Black Prison. It was the old wizard's revenge against the vampires in the Blood Fortress. Ruger didn't know the details of what happened back then. He only knew that there were too many targets in the Blood Fortress that the bald old wizard couldn't fight and wanted to vent his hatred on. What he hated more was the deformed, rigid and primitive kinship structure and rules of the vampires in the Blood Fortress. It was those inescapable shackles that killed his lover.

That long list of bloodline names was painstakingly painstakingly crafted by the bald old wizard over countless years in the Black Prison, using the environment and the items at his disposal, word by word, through his magical artifacts. Ruger could imagine the joy and hatred the old wizard felt when he painstakingly found a word and wrote it down on that scroll during those long years of solitude.

Of course, this also includes the contributions of the apprentice seeker of the law, Green, and the small dog-headed man's own labor.

"So, did I kill Jaxel?" Ruger wondered.

He wasn't the type to easily blame himself; he was simply somewhat regretful about this diligent and skilled cook, which led to some associations. The root of these associations was naturally his regret over Jaxsay, but the driving force behind his continued speculation was a tangled web of confusion—he couldn't find the true culprit who killed Jaxsay. Was it an ancestor of Bloodhold? He had simply awakened, and he was bound to awaken eventually. Was it the stubble-faced man who delivered the letter? He was merely fulfilling his duty, ensuring the letter reached its recipient. Was it the bald old wizard who wrote the letter? He was simply conveying greetings to their ancestor; he didn't even know who Jaxsay was. Was it the little dog-headed man who threw the package into the teleportation array? That clearly wasn't quite right either. Then was it the vampires of Bloodhold themselves? It was composed of countless Jaxsays—had Jaxsay killed itself?

Chance and inevitability.

fate?

The word inexplicably popped into Luger's mind.

It's likely that the entire territory at Blood Fortress has fallen into a deathly silence, experiencing its quietest day in hundreds of years. Perhaps some vampires are still enjoying breakfast, and the shop where they stayed is still there. Old Lenser's old vampire friend is probably no longer here. They don't even know what happened. Everything is over, completely and utterly over. There will be no more clansmen, no more descendants, no more traces.

The middle-aged man with stubble in the sky pointed upwards.

“Although you say that, I felt its anger the moment you appeared,” he said.

The man in the blood-red robe had been occasionally looking up at the dome since earlier, and now, listening to the stubble-bearded man's words, he looked up again.

There was nothing there except a blood-red sun.

“I did not steal his power. It’s just that these little things I left behind, oh my descendants, these annoying little things, have occasionally intermarried with those things it infected over the centuries…” The man in the blood-red robe said with a rather helpless look, “So when I awoke, I naturally recovered a little bit of its power that had coincidentally and accidentally merged into my bloodline…”

“I knew this would happen. Perhaps this letter saved your life and made you stop early. If it had really interfered with that person’s experiment that has lasted for thousands of years, you would never have woken up again,” said the stubble-bearded middle-aged man.

This time, the man in the blood-red robe did not refute, but simply gazed quietly at the blood-red sun in the dome.

Luger was also watching them.

He was trying to figure out just how powerful these guys were.

It is known that the original vampire wizard was a third-ring wizard, and a rather powerful one at that. However, the magnificently dressed wizard who suddenly appeared and then left clearly intimidated him. The wizard who only came and wandered around for a moment and then left did not even pay attention to the third-ring vampire wizard. This also shows that there are indeed high-level wizards in the City of Burning Blood. To make the arrogant vampire wizard feel humiliated, he must be at least a fourth-ring wizard.

The fourth-ring, ornately dressed wizard was waiting for the stubble-faced man who had broken through the air to deliver the message, and he was quite respectful, waving him away immediately. This stubble-faced wizard was obviously more powerful. In addition, considering his conversation with the blood-robed wizard, Ruge felt that these two guys were definitely several ranks higher than the fourth-ring, ornately dressed wizard.

Wow!
The Bloodstained City, which had just been shrouded in continuous rain for less than half a day, was suddenly struck by the sound of chains.

Luger looked up.

The two people in mid-air also seemed to be looking up curiously.

Suddenly, the man in the blood-red robe raised his hand and waved it, parting the radiance of the blood-red sun to reveal its true form.

(End of this chapter)