Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 269 Poetry and Aria

The old woman on the left listened to the other person's rambling words, seemingly unmoved, which perfectly matched Luger's first impression of her. However, when she heard those arguments about fate, those extreme denigrations, and even declarations of discarding it like trash, she finally touched a certain thread deep within her heart. Her expression began to show subtle changes, and the wrinkles on her face slightly magnified these small changes.

Meanwhile, the old woman who was an apprentice on the right was still rambling on and on, probably because she had been cooped up here for too long.

Interestingly, the only person she could have an equal conversation with over the years was herself.

Ruger had seen everything unfold, and the way things had developed was once again beyond his expectations. He only cared about one thing: whether he could leave the outside alive and whether he could still drink the meat soup cooked by Leiden. There was still quite a bit of python meat left from last time.

"You are me, no matter how much you despise me."

The aloof old woman on the left finally spoke, and as expected, her words were brief.

“And you won’t succeed,” she added.

Such confident words made the old apprentice woman burst into laughter.

The sight of him laughing made the aloof old woman frown, and she couldn't help but scrutinize him through the ribbon-like glow.

“You should pay attention to your manners,” she said, frowning. “You’re losing more than just your dignity.”

The old woman's laughter grew even louder.

Ruger looked at them. He still remembered the first time he and Raden met the old woman, she pointed out the problem with their bowing posture. It was Raden who knew more, allowing him to risk breaking his hairy legs to touch that painful high-class thing.

Now it seems that the source of everything is naturally the old woman's original form, but the one they have encountered all along did not completely retain the habits of the original form. Otherwise, their first encounter might not have been as simple as just being casually told a few words. Perhaps the difference between the two is also related to the subsequent division and development. After all, one disappeared without knowing whether it was dead or alive, while the other has been consciously living here for countless years.

Moreover, although they share the same origin, they are also different. Ruger recalled what he knew: the old woman in the town had existed for a very long time, but she did not exist independently. When the old woman in the outside world was still a young apprentice or an innocent little girl, the version of herself in the dream was more like the childlike innocence and joy that she squeezed out under heavy pressure, allowing her true self to survive and hiding the aspects that were not conducive to survival, which were unknowingly placed in the dream.

This is the fundamental difference between the two of them. But they were not completely separated at that time. When they fell asleep at midnight every day, they would become one. Just as the poem says, they influenced each other. They were still one person after all. When they were one, they shared memories. So this so-called not-so-harsh and gloomy old woman was not a really innocent and naive child. She naturally had some of the original habits. As mentioned earlier, they were still one person after all. It was the difference at the beginning and the long period of thinking about life alone that caused the slight difference in them now.

But humans are incredibly wondrous creatures, and no magic can fully explain them. Often, just a tiny difference, whether in habits or personality, can create two completely different people.

Ruger stared intently at them.

There are too many factors that can influence a person, just like the fate that the aloof old woman talked about. Nothing exists in isolation. Even a slight difference in personality can affect the environment, and over time, the environment will shape the person in the opposite way.

The apprentice old woman's laughter might have sounded particularly jarring to the aloof old woman.

Do you think I don't know what you're planning?

The aloof old woman glanced at Muse, who was hanging in mid-air, as she spoke.

"Humph!"

The old apprentice stopped smiling and snorted coldly, while casting a chilling glance at Mutress in mid-air.

“You were hiding in that rabbit hole giving orders, but she let the Fate Manipulator get involved,” the aloof old woman smiled. “That’s fate’s arrangement. You were hiding there, not wanting to share all your memories with me, but in the end, I still found out what you were trying to cover up.”

Luger raised an eyebrow slightly.

In other words, some of the things the old woman did were done secretly, hidden in the cracks of the rabbit Tuzel's space.

After a moment's thought, Luger was suddenly struck by the realization that perhaps the old woman he knew wasn't exaggerating. Since she had made such preparations and didn't intend to share her memories, it meant that she had probably anticipated this situation and knew that this aloof version of herself would appear.

Will she know how this aloof version of herself will make her entrance?

Will she know about the existence of that poetry collection?

Does she know about that library?

Ruger's eyes met those of the smiling old apprentice woman.

What is she going to do?
"Hahaha, you're embarrassed and annoyed," the old apprentice woman laughed. "You need to learn to accept the arrangements of fate." The aloof old woman withdrew her gaze and looked at Luger, who was sitting there in a daze.

The ribbon-like light had brought back a large number of light spots, which were absorbed by the two old women on either side.

The old woman who was an apprentice also looked over with a smile.

Ruger was momentarily at a loss. Even without using their mental powers, the two powerful wizards inevitably brought a strange sense of oppression.

Their eyes seemed to be waiting for him to make a choice.

Kruger was completely baffled, having no idea about the power of fate or how to make any choices.

This seemed to have exceeded the aloof old woman's plan, since according to the poems, everything should have ended when he revealed that symbol.

Both wizards tacitly refrained from making any verbal promises or offering any enticement.

Luger straightened up, leaning on the lab table for support.

He recalled what the two old women had said earlier, and what he really wanted to know was whether he could live to sit by the campfire in the camp and drink fruit tea that wasn't too bitter.

Fate is not something that exists in isolation; an unintentional action can affect others.

Ruger raised his head and looked at the two elderly women without fear, his gaze sweeping over their faces.

Luger suddenly realized.

she knows.

She knew the library; she knew everything. Perhaps they were searching for useful books there, and she had led them there, just as she had guided them, as with the opening of that stone door. Ruger considered more possibilities. Perhaps they weren't the first group of wizarding apprentices to open the library and search through it in recent years; perhaps those people simply hadn't found the poetry collection.

Ruger also thought about the old woman's unusual behavior earlier that day.

She probably knew they were able to leave this tower town because their initial entry into the stone chamber was different from others; they touched a book in a bird's nest. Perhaps from the moment she saw them, she had been hoping to open the stone door and let them search through it. All of this, including the constant pressure, such as the so-called experiment and the potentially life-threatening choice before them, was to force him to reveal and produce that triangular symbol.

Luger then thought of the crevice space of the rabbit Tuzel.

Perhaps it was that coincidence that solidified the old woman's belief that they were chosen by fate.

He touched his arm.

Even small things can come in handy at crucial moments; perhaps he can think about the problem from a different perspective.

The two old women were not far from him.

He tried to sense it with his heart, his brows twitching. The aloof old woman on his left seemed to have a lot of troubles, while the old woman on his right, who was at the apprentice level, had even lower strength and collected fewer points of light from the dim light. Her pre-arranged plan had also been exposed, yet he could hardly sense any emotions related to troubles.

Ruger forced his thinking to take a turn, that is, to look at the problem from a different angle. He could completely regard this so-called choice as not making a choice, but cleverly taking sides.

If he thinks that way, then he will naturally stand on the side that can win.

They are indeed the same person, no one can deny that, but many changes have taken place over the years. She knows her, but she may not necessarily know her.

Ruger raised his hand and found that his hand, which was resting on the ground, was still pressing down on the book.

A collection of poems about dreams and death

He casually picked it up, grabbed a corner of the book, and tossed it toward the smiling, victorious old woman.

He preferred witnessing miracles to the old wizard's resurrection.

(End of this chapter)