Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 330 Gods and Majesty

Thinking of this, Ruger smiled slightly. If this was a test carefully selected by the witch hunter wizards, then they would never have expected that a candidate would have such a simple and crude method. But this was not cheating. In the wizarding world, strength speaks for itself. His ability to master the Divine Object Spell, a spell with no fixed level, was a testament to his own strength. Moreover, he was also taking unknown risks when using the Divine Object Spell.

Besides Big Fool Heng and Aiskin, he also had a warner lying on the back of his hand, namely Zamao Number One. Because this guy was eloquent and full of nonsense, he had temporarily appointed him as the special envoy of the Spirit Hair God. He was a talkative spirit hair with a special status in the church and the embodiment of miracles.

It looks absolutely intimidating.

Ruger felt that he had the potential to be a charlatan; even if he wasn't the best, he was definitely above average.

The young Haya stared intently at him, along with two unusually tall dragonkin kobolds.

For ordinary people, witnessing these two tall figures that suddenly appeared beside them was nothing short of witnessing a miracle.

Haya was trying to remain calm, but the hand that was holding the book was trembling slightly, whether from surprise or excitement, she couldn't tell.

“Young Master Haya, please relax. We are all here to help you. The great Spirit God guides all things.”

Ruger said with a smile.

"The God of Hair cares for all hairy creatures in the world, including you, Young Master Haya. Your thick, beautiful hair is a gift from my God."

Ruger started making things up, initially just to soothe the boy's emotions, but later he found it quite enjoyable to spout nonsense.

The usually composed young master Haya touched his hair.

“Thank you, great and loving God of the Spirit Hair,” he said softly.

His tone was exceptionally sincere, and his hair, a slightly lighter color than the old gentleman's, was inherited from his mother. It was something he had been very proud of since childhood, a gift left to him by his mother whose memory had become hazy.

Ruger gave Aiskin and the other two a wink.

"Then, let's begin..."

Ruger said with a smile, reaching out to touch the strangely ornate dagger.

At the same time, at the signal, Da Shaheng reached out and grabbed Haya's wrist with his big hand, and pressed his shoulder with his other hand, firmly fixing him to the seat.

Just as Ruger's hand was about to touch the dagger, a loud commotion suddenly broke out outside.

Ruge glanced at the nervous Haya, resisted the urge to frown, and got up to go to the window.

As he looked up longingly, he could already hear the sounds of fighting below.

The God-givers who were originally waiting outside, apart from the cold-faced middle-aged woman and a straight-backed old man watching the commotion, were all surrounding the tall, muscular, dark-skinned bald man, punching and kicking him with great force, forcing the bald man to retreat repeatedly.

But this guy is indeed quite strong. He didn't fall immediately when surrounded by multiple people, and he's quite adept at taking a beating.

Ruger silently watched the group of guys shouting and fighting.

What an impudent fellow.

While the bald guy was indeed quite annoying, the others weren't exactly likeable either.

Ruger pointed out the window.

"I, representing the God of Spirit Hair, bestow divine punishment upon you impudent people..."

Ruger's booming voice and the startling content of his words filled the people below with terror.

What majesty it is that a God-given being dares to punish them in the name of God.

What kind of noble status does this strange-looking fellow possess?

They couldn't even imagine that simply having a fight in the yard would displease God.

He was obviously just making things up, but these words, which involved God, were extremely intimidating to those who were given by God.

But Ruger's words were not as simple as they seemed.

The highly compatible spell quickly completed the activation of the spell model, connecting with the direction of his fingertips, aiming at the target to fulfill its mission. Four hair removal spells in succession.

Since discovering in these battles that verbal stimulation and hair removal techniques have a good preparatory effect, Ruger has intensified his practice and research. He feels that perhaps he can make some minor modifications after a while. For example, in the current situation, when he is casting the spell, he has a feeling that this highly compatible spell may be able to affect those people with just one cast, instead of casting the spell on each person separately.

As the spell was cast, the area below fell silent for a moment.

"God! You have stripped me of my hair! Great God of the Hair, I beg your forgiveness!"

One person knelt on the ground, his trembling voice beyond words.

It looks incredibly eerie.

Needless to say, the three attackers were not spared, but even the bald man was not spared by Ruger. Although there was no hair on his head, there were still some eyebrows, which were removed to show the majesty of the god.

This sudden change stunned even the butler waiting by the door and the two divine beings watching from the sidelines.

Once one person kneels down, another will follow.

Ruger couldn't even tell who the second one was. The four men, including the bald, burly man, were already kneeling on the ground, kneeling in front of the window, and began to sing praises to the god of spirit hair.

For a moment, it seemed as if this god he had concocted, which sounded quite clumsy, had truly become a renowned and infinitely powerful being who was famous throughout the endless sea.

Ruger stood by the second-floor window, watching the four men kneeling and bowing, his gaze sweeping over each of them.

He originally intended to find a pretext to humiliate them and then use his foul skin to completely silence them, but now the four of them had no more malice towards him, though he had achieved a similar effect.

These four people were certainly not benevolent, yet they instantly lost all malice towards him, which is quite interesting.

It can be said that the efficiency is astonishing.

For a moment, Ruger felt as if he had grasped a small part of the essence of the faith wizard.

Of course, it's just a tiny bit.

Ruger found it quite intriguing. A simple hair-removing spell, a minor prank among wizarding apprentices, was elevated to an unquestionable divine punishment once it was given the name of the God of Hair, which happened to be within his domain. So, if one found an island in the endless sea far from the light, could one claim to be the God of Light, successfully captivate a group of people with a simple light spell, maintain the spell with a magic circle, or even systematically solidify the light spell at the spell's location, starting the planning and scheming from the very first apprenticeship?

Ruger stroked his chin, increasingly recognizing the benefits of having a guide.

Unfortunately, his situation was very special, and he had already figured it out and become a fifth-level wizard apprentice.

He turned around and saw that young master Haya was also quietly thanking the God of Spirit Hair.

He pursed his lips and sat back down.

Once the spell model was fully activated, I gently touched the eerie yet beautiful dagger.

The divine artifact technique was successfully executed.

Ruger wanted to pass the test easily, but taking risks would be a loss.

Therefore, he was very careful.

In the hazy light, he didn't make any rash movements and kept his emotions in check.

The first thing you see is young master Haya wildly waving a dagger. In that shattered scene, the young master is clearly experiencing strong emotional fluctuations, which is why even an ordinary person like him can leave traces.

A burly man wielded a strange, sharp axe, aiming for Haya's wrist. No one was holding his arm, which clearly indicated his tacit consent. The indistinct figure in the distance appeared to be an old knight.

Then, as the axe fell, Haya's wrist was cut open, but before blood could splatter, he moved, or rather, it moved.

Haya flicked his wrist, the small dagger tilting the axe as it flipped. Rather than Haya wielding the dagger, it was the dagger that propelled him. In the blink of an eye, the burly man wielding the axe was forced to retreat repeatedly. His steps on the carpet had barely become unsteady when he was decapitated.

Ruger noticed this and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

(End of this chapter)