Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 325 Boasting and Contradictions

Ruger watched the old man's long-winded ramblings and listened to his boastful words, silently memorizing them.

He recalled the person he had encountered in the Nightmare World, the one surrounded by a group of hazy figures. That guy with the fake smile must be a faith wizard. During the battle, Ruger had even seen the temple that the other party had created in his mental space. He wondered if faith wizards had to start preparing from meditation. Just like Karyu in the diary missed the solidification of zero-ring spells and couldn't directly embark on the path of the Beast King Wizard, some wizarding paths start from the very beginning. Wizard apprentices without a background will miss some crucial choices due to a lack of information.

Ruger then thought of the Supreme Council. Since the Supreme Council was promoting the iteration of meditation techniques and, according to his speculation, longed for the birth of more wizards, why would it sit idly by and watch this happen? Of course, not all of these buried talents would be able to go far on this path, but there would inevitably be some genius apprentices whose talents were delayed.

The firelight flickered in the small square.

Perhaps this is exactly what the Supreme Council wants, Ruger thought.

They not only want a large number of wizards, but also wizards who can create new things. If everyone follows the established paths, it will undoubtedly stifle the creativity of the wizarding world and slowly suffocate its future. Of course, the Supreme Council's actions will also kill the future of many wizards and wizarding apprentices. Some will be forced into a desperate situation and forge their own path, while others will live out their lives in regret and resentment.

Listening to the old man's words, Ruger felt that this so-called god was exaggerating a bit.

From farming to treating illnesses, what can be done to some extent?

If even one person were to be even slightly proficient in these things, there wouldn't be so few pitiful believers.

This further convinced Ruger that it was an island inhabited by one or more wizard apprentices, which made him even less afraid.

Ruger glanced up at the sky, turned and left the small square, deciding to find a place to stay.

As he walked further and further away, the old man's loud chanting could still be heard from behind him.

His powerful and resolute manner seemed to prove his piety, and of course, it also proved that his body was indeed very healthy.

Ruger walked on and finally came to a higher city wall.

Perhaps it was late, for the gates leading to the inner city had already been tightly shut.

Luger smiled slightly, and his seemingly real wings unfurled behind him. Taking advantage of the night, he moved gently and flew over the city wall.

Leaving the Nightmare World without cultivating his wings to the next stage or to a stronger state has always been a small regret for him. However, he has indeed had enough of that incomprehensible place, where he is worried that something illogical might suddenly appear around him even when he sits down to rest.

I can only hope to have the opportunity to visit there again in the future.

Luger landed gently in a deserted corner, and the wings behind him disappeared.

One advantage of these seemingly real wings is that they don't tear his robes each time they appear, unlike when he has to put his robes away every time he clears a temporary spell slot.

The difference was obvious after walking just a few steps away from the city wall.

Ruger surveyed the street, which was relatively well-lit, and nodded in satisfaction. Although it was still not clean and tidy, the stench was slightly less than in the outer city.

Outside larger taverns and similar shops, there were oil braziers burning. These braziers not only provided light but also emitted a faint fragrance that counteracted the stench from the street.

Ruger wandered around, not rashly releasing his spiritual power to look around the streets, but he still sensed things slightly with the spirituality of a wizard apprentice.

We didn't find anything unusual as we walked along.

In this seemingly dirty and chaotic little town, there are actually drainage ditches under the stone slabs.

The faith wizards have transformed this place into a spectacle. Even in a lower-level underground city like Star City, there are many extraordinary individuals, but here they are rarely seen. Those who do appear occasionally, or are necessary for survival in this endless sea environment, are given a divine name.

In Ruger's opinion, it would be more convenient to just drink a few bottles of Fighter's Potion.

However, given the means that wizard apprentices possess, those divine gifts might just be things like fighter potions. After all, there are many types of basic fighter potions. Maybe that long-eared guy was some kind of long-eared fighter, but he wasn't devout enough and failed to condense the fighter mark.

Ruger stood in front of a three-story building. He had chosen a hotel that looked ordinary, but was considered high-end in the area.

What attracted him was not only the cleanliness of the hotel entrance, but also the notice posted on the door.

The inscription reads: Sir Waglen is pleading with a powerful divine being to extend a helping hand to save his youngest son, and promises a gift in return, regardless of whether the help is significant or not.

To say something like that means you're open to everyone.

Luger smiled and stepped into the hotel.

Upon entering the hotel, the first thing you see is a small oil brazier, burning itself in the porch and successfully combating the smells from the street, making Luger feel the air was so fresh for the first time since arriving here.

The first floor of the hotel looks like a small restaurant.

Several people with different expressions were each occupying a table, quietly enjoying their dinner with their heads down.

Ruger raised an eyebrow; these guys all seemed to be so-called God-given individuals.

One of them, like him, had obvious inhuman features. At first glance, the other two did not seem to have anything special about them, but they also had an aura of extraordinary beings that was very different from ordinary people.

When a person drinks even the most basic fighter's potion and becomes a superhuman, their breathing and even their heartbeat will be different. Under the mental perception of a wizard apprentice, they will be very different from ordinary people.

"Ah! Guest—guest, please be careful—"

A gasp stopped Ruger in his tracks.

Ruger didn't need the man to call out to him; he prepared to go around him anyway.

A young waiter trotted over, shooed away a small mouse that was scavenging for food scraps, and then bowed to Ruger.

Luger almost stepped on this little thing just now.

"Guest, are you staying overnight?" the young waiter asked, glancing at the empty table beside him. "The kitchen got a big fish today. If you haven't eaten yet, I recommend it. The fish strips cooked with spicy tree berries will definitely not disappoint you..."

Ruger shook his head and pointed upwards.

"Alright, please follow me, sir."

The thin young man was very clean-cut and looked to be about seventeen or eighteen years old.

Ruger followed behind, and the two walked together up the creaking stairs.

Ruger could sense the gazes of those divine beings behind him; he was being watched.

“There are many of these skaven in the woods outside the city. They like to run around. Although we don’t believe in that god, we should avoid doing anything that is related to him,” the young man in front said as he walked. “Please forgive my shouting just now… Although I don’t know if touching those ordinary skaven is blasphemy, that’s what people in the city say, so I think it’s a good idea.”

Ruger followed behind, listening silently.

In his heart, however, he was thinking about why this wizard apprentice would come up with such a bizarre god, or rather, god's name, which didn't sound powerful at all. This should hinder its spread and the acquisition of faith, unless it was done intentionally to take a different path. But it involved a lot of things, so it was inevitably somewhat contradictory.

“You mentioned that kind of fish earlier, could you give me one, no, three portions, and bring them to my room?” Ruger said.

"Of course, sir, it would be my pleasure to serve you."

The young man readily agreed, as if sharing his joy at the success, or perhaps thinking that recommending a dish would earn him extra pay.

(End of this chapter)