Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 282 Dreams and Thoughts

Ruger recalled that before each blood rain fell, he could hear the rattling of chains in the City of Burning Blood, on the outer wasteland, in the Blood Fortress, and even in the village on the edge of the wasteland. Then the blood rain would fall, the drizzling rain washing everything away. Now he thought that perhaps it was the indistinct crimson giant on the dome that was moving, bound by chains and runes.

If it was really as he had imagined, although he didn't know their specific purpose, Ruger admired their courage in getting involved.

After all, the Blood-Robed Wizard, the so-called ancestor of Blood Fortress, had clearly stated that he dared not make a move against that blood-red, glowing giant.

However, some wizards do genuinely offer assistance to those infected with bloodline within the Nightmare World.

Ruger had no idea of ​​the astonishing value of that enormous, blood-red humanoid figure.

But it must have been quite attractive to those high-level wizards as well. The blood-robed wizard who claimed he dared not make a move also intentionally induced those vampires and bloodline infected in the Blood Fortress to give birth to hybrid offspring in order to make a roundabout attempt to steal the power of the giant humanoid.

But I could also tell that person was cautious.

This caution also illustrates that attacking the City of Burning Blood is not a good idea. Doing so is different from killing the wizards within the city. The wizards are free and do not belong to this city. Like old Lunther, in the eyes of outsiders, they are wizards of the City of Burning Blood, and they might even stand up and fight to protect the City of Burning Blood, but they do not belong here. This seemingly ownerless giant city actually has a true master who has never appeared, a wizard who arranged everything, turned it into a long-term experimental field, and then drifted away.

Luger has not sensed the presence of the Nightmare World within the city since.

Those guys are probably taking advantage of the disorganized nature of the City of Burning Blood, where people are not under each other's command, to carry out their activities quietly in the cracks, and they don't dare to be too outrageous.

He leaned against the tree and began to study meditation.

Upon first attempt, it was indeed possible to normally sense the mental space, and the closer one was to the Dream Tree, the easier it became. This dream, supported and stabilized by two Dream Trees, had the Dream Trees playing a very important role, while also serving as a bridge with many wonderful uses yet to be discovered.

Ruger began meditating in his dreams for the first time.

The Silent Demon Seal slowly twisted in a peculiar form, constantly drawing the five demonic marks to merge with it.

The runes that make up the magic seal are constantly being drawn out in meditation, drawn into the magic seal and making it seem as if the magic seal is awakening, thus promoting the fusion more powerfully.

A round of meditation ended quickly, and the things that weren't done before bed were made up for in dreams.

It was truly a peculiar experience.

But Ruger stopped very quickly.

Dream meditation has proven to be feasible, but it's not as simple as it seems.

He turned around and stroked the Dream Tree.

Perhaps we need to wait for them to grow a bit more before we can better complete the meditation. Right now, the meditation is not only more difficult, but also consumes more mental energy when outlining the runes. It is really difficult to control and wastes a lot of ink, giving us a feeling of scratching an itch through a boot.

Sleep is not only a physical rest, but also a mental rest.

If the energy expenditure is too great, even someone with Ruger's recovery ability will wake up looking exhausted and listless.

The Dream Tree will grow slowly on its own. In addition, there should be some things in the Nightmare World that can help it grow. The most orthodox way is to let the Dream Tree devour the other dreams it creates. No matter what the dream is, it is connected to this place and can be understood as a dream. This place is the beginning and the center of the dream. As long as it runs over and lets the Dream Tree devour those different dreams, it can accelerate its growth.

Ruger thought of old dog Rensel; perhaps he could get Rensel to find a way to get some dream-enhancing potions.

He also kept a strange, bluish-green mushroom that he and Leiden called the Sleeping Mushroom. Eating it would make you dream, and it would be a strange dream of being chased by a giant mushroom. However, it was estimated that he would not be able to cultivate it after leaving the Nightmare World.

I spent the night lost in thought.

He even woke up in the middle of the night and then fell asleep again.

This time I didn't dream, so I didn't enter a dream and come to the tree. This was an experiment, and also a way to get a good night's sleep.

He increasingly felt that many things in this world require effort in order to reap rewards.

If he hadn't discovered he could meditate or do something else, wouldn't every time he fell asleep and entered a dream state have been an ordeal? This is also why Leiden initially called it a drawback; at that time, they hadn't yet carefully experienced the benefits, but they all saw the drawback at first glance.

A lucid dream is an extension of life; if there's nothing to do, it becomes a continuation of boredom, a double torment. A dream is, after all, a dream. No matter how stable it may be, there are many things one cannot do. For example, bringing things in for experiments is pure fantasy. Dreams cannot simulate or predict the trajectory of certain things, unless it involves something on the path of a nightmare wizard, or some theoretical experiment.

For Ruger, "Sweet dreams" will no longer be just a blessing.

The light of the blood-red sun awakened Luger.

It's been a long time since I've enjoyed such a relaxing nap.

He stretched and pushed open the small door to the attic.

I wonder if Aunt Jenny is still here.

Ruger, lost in thought, walked downstairs.

The old staircase creaked familiarly underfoot.

Until a familiar figure appeared at the dining table.

Ruger glanced at the table and saw that there was breakfast and cutlery for two people laid out on it.

"Come over and eat."

Old Dog Head Lunser said without even looking up.

"My dear uncle, do you know I'm back?"

Luger smiled and pulled out his usual chair.

“Hmph, although my old Lunther’s apothecary isn’t some wizarding tower, I can still tell if someone opens the window in the middle of the night,” Old Lunther said, glancing at him while biting into half a sausage. “You’re already a level five wizard apprentice, that’s pretty good. It seems you’re enjoying yourself there and must have seen a lot of interesting people and things.”

Ruger paused for a moment, then smiled.

"What about Aunt Jenny? Does she still come over often?"

Ruger suppressed the many things he wanted to know and inexplicably thought of this aunt, wanting to know the whereabouts of this somewhat assertive and powerful aunt.

He didn't want to be pampered like that again, or to be thrown into some strange place again.

"Humph!"

Old Lunser snorted coldly.

“It seems something has happened in the Nightmare World. She needs to focus on doing certain things and won’t be coming for a while,” Old Lunser said, cutting open a head of simply boiled cauliflower. “Of course, it’s only a high probability. Once she gets busy, she’s likely to lose track of time and forget other things, but it’s not absolute.”

"Aunt Jenny, is she a wizard of the High Council?"

Ruger was somewhat curious about Jenny's identity.

"You could say that, but you could also say that," old Lunser said, swaying his large dog head as he tore into a slightly undercooked piece of steak. "You'll have a chance to learn about these things later..."

Ruger nodded and began his attack on the breakfast on the table.

While it wasn't as good as Leiden's cooking, or even as good as Jaxsay's, it had its own wild flavor. What could be boiled was simply boiled, and what could be grilled was grilled. Everything was just above edible, but just below delicious. I hadn't eaten it in a while, and I was starting to miss it.

He watched as old Lenser raised his glass with one hand to savor the after-dinner wine, then reached out and took out a small, round, black object, resembling a small ornament made of a devil's horns.

He ate the sausage in small bites and placed the food on a corner of the table.

(End of this chapter)