Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 319 Ideas and Goals

Ruger suddenly realized that if it was really as he thought, then accepting this little black gadget and using it, if he successfully became a witch hunter, would mean that he might have unknowingly joined a group whose full picture was unknown.

The premise is that the demon wizard really has that many students.

When there are many people, they are prone to naturally flowing into branches that share the same origin but take different paths due to their different ways of doing things and their beliefs.

Whether it's a trickling stream or a rushing river, it cannot be avoided.

Wizards are spiritual beings with long lifespans, making them a special group of beings whose ideas are most likely to clash in this world.

Moreover, the so-called students of the demon wizards may have conflicts of interest unknown to ordinary people.

Ruger grinned.

Completely avoiding such things is also unrealistic. Supernatural powers, to some extent, simplify the world, and to others, complicate it. The development of supernatural powers allows people to see more, hear more, and experience aspects of the world they never imagined. From initial bewilderment to clarity and understanding, and then to deeper exploration, they arrive at questions and uncertainties closer to the ultimate truth. Different wizarding factions exist, each adhering to its own ideals and driven by its own purpose. The wizards within these factions are like microcosms of exploring the world, sharing similar ideologies yet harboring countless differences. These diverse groups, bound together by shared ideals, strive to shorten the process of expanding their own ideologies through organizations with similar beliefs, aiming to go further in the seemingly long but actually limited and busy life of a wizard.

Perhaps this is how the Supreme Council of Wizards came to be, only it is higher and bigger, so much so that it is impossible to look up to it.

Ordinary people have their own small groups, and top wizards naturally have their own perspectives and considerations.

The Supreme Council's disregard for non-wizard superhumans and its limited assistance and control over the underground city may all be in pursuit of some goal that is difficult for ordinary people to fathom.

Even the iterations of meditation techniques—the second generation, the third generation, each iteration giving more people the opportunity to become wizards—may all be part of this process.

However, their vision was too lofty, and what they did spanned a long period of time and an endless space. Ordinary people could only glimpse a few fragments and could not piece together the whole picture.

Ruger rested one arm on the stone slab, holding the small black ornament in front of his eyes with the other hand, examining it and turning it over in his hand.

He is the most authentic, truly the smallest of the small.

If everything goes as he guesses, then becoming a witch hunter will bring him some stupid and annoying guys, but also some friends.

It depends on the position of the half-teacher who gave him the gift.

Thinking about it this way, Ruger realized that he also had such moments, and that after joining the ranks of witch hunters, he might also be one of those people with connections.

He curled his lip. He, Luger, didn't value such things. Of course, if he could get help, it would be easier to obtain a high-quality ascension ritual, or even some knowledge of first-level spells, which would make him very happy.

The premise of everything is his conjecture, which must at least have several key points that match the actual situation.

Ruger used his mental power to search through the space. After learning from the lessons of the Blood Burning City, he would occasionally go to Blackhorn City to make some purchases.

The shelves that were moved from Old Lenser's Apothecary were really good, and they came in handy. The two dragonborn kobolds would occasionally organize the newly arrived goods in them.

Using ingredients never seen before, a new Dragonborn kobold cuisine is also under active development and research.

However, Aiskin is still quite sleepy these days.

He suddenly realized that a group of sleepy guys had gathered around him without him noticing. There were at least three of them asleep right now, leaving only Big Fool Heng still tending to the extraordinary plants he had planted.

Although plans can't keep up with changes, and the things that had grown so vigorously were temporarily useless, Ruger still didn't stop the two dragonborn kobolds. Letting them learn and become familiar with more cultivation techniques was ultimately a good thing, as he would continue his career as an apothecary in the future. At the same time, Ruger also bought them more biographical novels in the city.

Luger paused for a moment, then picked out his favorite fruit.

After taking out the fruit, he looked at the back of his hand.

Since the birth of the Blood Curse Doll, it has become very difficult to sense the presence of this guy, Zamao No. 1, who is so frightened that he dares not speak.

If it's sleeping too, then there are already four guys snoring away next to it.

Ruger raised an eyebrow helplessly and stuffed the rough-feeling fruit in his hand into his mouth.

This is his new favorite, just like life itself.

It tastes sour at first, then sweet, and a little bitter. Before you can savor it properly, the sourness mixed with sweetness masks it all, and by the time you try to taste it again, you've already swallowed it.

Ruger hummed a song and swung his ankle.

With each round of meditation, his mental strength steadily and slowly increased. Having just enjoyed Aunt Jenny's cooking, Ruger felt more at ease with this pace of growth that wasn't immediately apparent each day.

But it was indeed a tough time.

It takes several days to see the progress you make.

He already had some respect for those who toiled for most of their lives to become fifth-level wizard apprentices. Occasionally, among those with less talent, there would be people who would advance to become wizards, or even go further after crossing that threshold.

Ruger was only slightly anxious when he was initially completely lost, but once he obtained some information that he could use as material for his wild thoughts, he began to enjoy it immensely.

Mindset also determines destiny.

Ruger firmly believed this. When he was starving in the cave, he would adjust his mindset. Pure daydreaming and random thoughts were the methods he developed during that time, because being too anxious and impatient would make him hungry even faster.

Suddenly, a bulge appeared on the side of his neck, then flattened, only to bulge again shortly afterward. It began to move around on his body, a furry bulge quickly moving to his shoulder, down his arm, and under his wizard's robe.

“Ah, wise master! My great master,” a cry of alarm suddenly came from the back of my hand, “I am your loyal servant, the most loyal and unique mongrel number one, no, don’t let it near me…”

Ruger curled his lip.

He knew this would happen.

Unlike the panicked cries of the scrambled hairs, the Blood Curse Doll, which had just woken up, felt a deep longing from the bottom of its heart, as if the scrambled hairs, a special being, were a highly nutritious tonic for it.

"Master, oh master! I don't want to lose you, my great master, I want to stay on the back of your hand forever..."

Ruger raised his hand and slapped his wrist, silencing the commotion. A bulging, fluffy bump also bumped into his hand.

The Misfit Number One needs to be taught a lesson, and the Blood Curse Doll, who acted on its own initiative, cannot be allowed to run rampant either.

(End of this chapter)