Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 230 Corridors and Paintings

In front of the rabbit hut.

Ruger stomped his foot on the ground, catching up with Leiden and Vito. Squeak responded from below, making noises. Ruger sensed the arcane mark left on Squeak and stored it in his bedroom. This little creature with its own ideas was a good thing, but it also brought a bit of amusing trouble. During the confrontation with that demon wizard apprentice, despite his reassurance, the little thing always insisted on jumping out to help.

Luger now places more emphasis on its role as an assistant in daily life, such as keeping watch during rest or meditation, or digging tunnels while traveling. He values ​​Zizi's future growth potential more.

There were not many wizard apprentices left who had not entered the hut; most of the remaining ones had just arrived from the woods.

The three of them stepped through the dilapidated door almost simultaneously.

Changes in light.

Ruger stopped in his tracks and found himself standing in a corridor.

He looked around. Under his feet was a deep red carpet with black trim. At intervals on the walls hung paintings of different sizes, some depicting portraits and others depicting forest scenes. Behind him was the other end of the corridor, where the small, broken door was no longer visible. As for Leiden and Vito, they were nowhere to be found.

After a moment's thought, Luger began to wander around casually.

One, two, three paintings. When he passed the fourth painting, he stopped, slowly approached, and examined it carefully.

This is a very small painting, about the size of a palm, but the framing is still exquisite. The dark brown border highlights the small and concentrated light. It is a painting depicting the light by a window. The window occupies the entire painting. Its small size is like a small window. The light in the upper right corner is projected onto the window, and the dazzling white is separated into fragmented and abstract colors.

Ruger scratched the hair on his chin and took another step.

Enjoy the scenery along the way.

Occasionally, he would come across a room by the roadside and go in for a look. Most of the rooms were tastefully furnished, some with obvious uses, such as bedrooms or studies, while others seemed to be just places to drink tea and chat. There were even complete tea sets. It was a pity that Leiden and the others were not here, but what these rooms had in common was the paintings. Each room had at least one painting hanging on the wall.

“These paintings… all seem to be… dead?” Ruger muttered to himself.

He looked at the paintings with the eyes of someone who didn't know anything about them, and he found a common point based on his intuition, or rather, he couldn't help but notice it as soon as he looked at them: these paintings were all still, they didn't move, they were static. For example, if it was a painting of a big yellow dog or a bald man, they were all sitting or standing steadily. There was not a single painting of a person or object in motion.

This place is probably much bigger than I imagined, Ruger thought.

He has not yet encountered a single wizard apprentice.

This so-called search for the well is completely different from what Ruger had previously guessed; it can be said that he has not yet found a clue.

If you have no clue, then you can only keep wandering around.

Spirituality? The spirit world?

He walked along, lost in thought.

Perhaps there's no need to be too anxious, he thought. Since this was all left behind by a powerful wizard, it's impossible that upon entering the house, one would immediately see a well and then everyone would be fighting. Ruger pondered the origins of the rabbit, this crevice, and the well. Perhaps there were other wizards who were straightforward and powerful, but this one was definitely not. Although the two had never directly communicated, Ruger always felt that this senior would be an interesting fellow. Just looking at the three conditions he set for the rabbit's escape, and the gifts he left behind for his juniors after creating this place, one could imagine that this person was at least not someone who liked to be straightforward.

Communication may not be limited to face-to-face conversations. This is also a form of communication, as Ruger strolls here, walks on this carpet, and looks at these paintings.

Although these things, such as paintings, may not necessarily be the work of that wizard, the arrangement of this rift space is all because of that wizard.

So this can also be considered as communicating with that wizard who may or may not still be alive, who existed many years ago. Communication is not just about direct responses. Stepping on the other's arrangements and guessing the other's thoughts can also be considered communication. When the other set up these things countless years ago, he must have considered the current situation and the reactions of the wizard apprentices. Perhaps he was even laughing while he was doing it. It is a dialogue that is separated by thousands of years or even longer.

As Ruger walked, whenever he was puzzled by something, he would stop and randomly pick up a painting to admire.

Suddenly, footsteps came from around the corner.

He was an unfamiliar wizard apprentice.

But the man only glanced at it, said nothing, and turned to walk in another direction.

Is this also a form of communication?
Seeing that there were other wizard apprentices wandering around, Ruger felt much more at ease.

Humans are constantly interacting with all things in the world.

Ruger sighed inwardly, then paused, noticing a rather large painting hanging in an open room, its size almost matching that of a door.

He was immediately drawn to the painting the moment he glanced at it. He slowly approached and entered the room, his eyes never leaving the painting the entire way.

It was a strange, giant dragon lying down.

Without anyone telling him, Ruger knew it was a strange dragon. This guy had fewer scales than him, but the dragon's appearance was all covered in fur, without any scales at all. Moreover, it was the kind of soft fur with alternating long and short hairs. The fur on the body was shorter and thicker, while the edges of the wings or the end of the tail were covered with soft, long hairs.

What attracts Luger most is its eyes.

Long, soft hair hangs down from the top of the giant dragon's head, and through the gaps in the hair, you can see a pair of large, intelligent eyes.

Ruger stared into the eyes of the strange dragon, its half-hidden eyes painted with remarkable realism. He could discern the dragon's emotions, its thoughts, and the feelings it conveyed. Ruger was certain that it was gazing at someone it knew well. Those eyes seemed to be telling a story, their calm surface concealing a multitude of emotions. Ruger saw in them an acceptance of fate, as well as a struggle against it. There was a peculiar sense of vicissitude in those clear eyes.

Luger kept getting closer.

If we were to say when he was closest to spirituality, it would undoubtedly be during those choices of spells; the feelings he experienced then were unforgettable.

But at this moment he had a different experience, as if he had finally found a painting that he could understand and communicate with. Perhaps it was due to the special nature of this place that a faint spirituality flowed in his heart, and following the guidance in his heart, he moved closer and closer.

In those enormous eyes, I saw a reflection—an ordinary well.

(End of this chapter)