Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 248 Nourishment and Hair Removal

Ruger blinked, held his breath, and stood quietly in place, carefully sensing every blade of grass and every tree around him.

It seems that nothing has really changed.

The two exchanged a glance, communicating silently, neither seeming to notice anything amiss.

This relieved both of them.

Although this situation was within Ruger's expectations, tension was still inevitable. In fact, the two had already figured it out during their discussion: even if the old woman wasn't worried about them, these errand runners, she would definitely make sure every step of the process was done perfectly for her plan.

"continue?"

Ruger looked at Leiden.

One shot had already been thrown into this spot, and the cone-shaped object in his palm instantly stopped burning hot; the old woman gave no one a chance to slack off.

Leiden nodded, but seemed to be thinking about something.

Ruger strode along.

He would stop and collect anything that interested him, for many things in the Nightmare World cannot be judged by common sense.

A forest of withered trees, a pink flower that appears out of nowhere, a mushroom with oval spots, or even a smooth, beautiful stone—all ordinary yet extraordinary—can catch Luger's eye.

Ruger and Leiden each took turns dropping the cone-shaped gadgets from specific locations.

From initial nervousness to unconscious movements later on.

During this time, the sorceress Mutricis never appeared, so the two continued to carry out the matter at their own pace.

Ruger also sent a large amount of prey to the Abyss bedroom space in the name of Squeak, so that Aiskin and Big Fool could have something fresh to eat. In addition, after such a long period of experimentation, he and Squeak were able to adapt to eating nightmare creatures, so he felt at ease giving those things to the two dragonborn kobolds.

Squeak, who occasionally came out to play, acted as a mouthpiece, chirping and relaying messages between the two dragonborn kobolds and his handsome master.

The two walked and stopped frequently, but did not encounter any other wizards or wizard apprentices.

In the blink of an eye, more than ten days have passed, and the two of them, taking turns, have already thrown away most of what they had in their hands.

Under a black, withered tree.

"Squeak! Squeak!"

While Ruger was resting, a large head with a single horn popped out from the ground beside him.

"What? You found me another gift?"

After communicating with it, Luger understood what it meant. Although Squeak had its own ideas, it hadn't brought him anything back since he had strictly forbidden it last time.

Squeak nodded, trying her best to express her meaning.

Leiden, who had just finished meditating, also looked over.

It did not retrieve the gift, but sought Luger's permission first.

Ruger stroked his chin, suspecting that this habit of giving gifts was a matter of prenatal education. Perhaps when the little crybaby bug-man took it with him, this creature, which had not yet hatched, had witnessed many scenes of the big bug-men giving gifts to the little crybaby bug-man. This creature could sense the outside world even when it was in the incubation bag. The little crybaby bug-man's happy reaction to receiving the gifts probably left a deep impression on it, which it silently remembered.

Ruger reached out and stroked its head, then patted it lightly as a sign of agreement.

"squeak!"

Squeaked happily and burrowed down.

Luger could sense that it was running from underground into the distance.

Ignoring it further, Ruger got up and began his routine full-body spirit hair nourishment spell, followed by the consumption and replenishment of spell slots.

“You seem to have something on your mind lately…” he said. Raiden, who was standing nearby, paused for a moment, then reached out and poked at the campfire a couple of times.

“I was just thinking, since that person can steal power, is there any way... to intercept a small portion of it during the process?” Raiden stared at the flames and whispered, “but it seems stupid, I don’t even know what kind of power she covets or what its purpose is... so I gave up again.”

The kobold beside him stopped what it was doing, its mouth slightly open, and looked at him.

"These thoughts only lasted for a moment before I gave up," Leiden shook his head. "Then I thought about whether there was a way to make that person suffer a bad outcome in this theft, thereby completely resolving our predicament..."

Ruger closed his mouth and nodded his head.

From Leiden's perspective, they had no way to deal with the old woman, so it was normal for them to have this idea. Ruger thought about the book of poems about dreams and death, which warned against letting more people know about this matter, and in the end, he did not tell the man sitting under the tree looking at the campfire.

"It said these trees were different; they were dead, yet they were alive..."

Leiden stared at the campfire and suddenly spoke.

Ruger paused for a moment.

The ingredients for this campfire were specially sourced by Leiden from this black, withered forest.

"Who?" Ruger asked curiously.

"It's what the flames before me tell me..."

Leiden spoke earnestly.

Whether the flames before him could truly speak, or communicate in a broader sense—that is, what Leiden observed—Ruger didn't quite understand, but he still chose to believe.

“When I came to this nightmare world, I tried the most common dead trees. There were strange phenomena, of course, even tree trunks that were burning and crying, but none of them were like the ones here,” Leiden said. “And the situation here is very consistent. The ones that are burning now are some that I collected a couple of days ago, and some that I just got today. They are all equally strange.”

Ruger was listening with great interest.

Leiden looked up at him.

"When you cast that spell, it told me... that these branches, neither dead nor alive, also emitted a faint longing..." Leiden said.

Spell?

Luger thought about it for a while.

Suddenly, he raised his hand towards a tree on his left, and the spell model in his mental space was activated, releasing the spell from his hand.

Hair removal!
He hadn't used the Hair Removal spell, but aside from clearing spell slots, he had mostly been using Spirit Hair Nourishment. And after thinking it over, he realized that the five spells he used to clear spell slots, whatever their connection, were unlikely to evoke any desire in anything. Only certain descriptions in Spirit Hair Nourishment held a sliver of possibility.

For the black, withered tree, Ruger chose a relatively short one.

There was no change after the spell was cast.

But from the feedback of the spell, Ruger knew that the spell had actually succeeded; the hair removal spell did indeed produce the expected changes in the spell's progress after contact with the target.

Ruger chose hair removal treatment because he wanted to see immediate results.

But the hair removal procedure failed to remove it.

The Spirit Hair Nourishment spell was cast, and the magic completed its intended transformation once again, even more smoothly than the Hair Removal spell.

The nightmare world is full of wonders.

The two looked at each other.

“Could this be some kind of hair…” Ruger said, blinking at Leiden.

(End of this chapter)