Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 361 Reliable and Unreliable
A wizard passed out drunk on the street is already quite unusual, both in terms of the fact that a wizard can get drunk from ordinary alcohol, and in terms of a wizard letting himself get drunk and fall asleep on a dirty roadside where children run around. It is an extremely unbelievable thing.

Ruger's thoughts were interrupted by this sudden sight.

He admitted that he had mocked Mahamat's exaggerated behavior a little too early.

Zorn's behavior was somewhat detached from the common perception of a formal wizard.

Mahama looked at Rug.

"Since he's collapsed here, he probably wants to go back to that courtyard..."

Mahama spoke softly, as if afraid of waking the other person.

"I think so."

Ruge understood what Mahama meant.

The melodious snoring continued to linger, as if it could make eighteen turns in one breath, trying to find the right melody for the dancers by the distant campfire.

Both Luger and his companion sighed subconsciously and stepped forward together.

Suddenly, the hands that the two of them had stretched out, one in front of the other, froze halfway.

An aura that transcended their individual levels enveloped them.

The snoring continued.

Ruger didn't dare to move, but he knew that the hair on the back of his neck was definitely standing on end.

Although the wizard Zorn was not wearing the special wizard robe with the open collar, his everyday clothes were still half-open.

Amidst the soft snores, several strange, unmoved heads sat atop the wizard Zorn's chest, staring intently at Ruger and Mahama beside him.

When those little heads peeked out from the messy chest hair, Ruger felt his heart skip a beat. It wasn't just the overwhelming aura that surpassed that of a wizard apprentice that made him feel overwhelmed, but also a sense of unexpected disorientation. It was unimaginable that he would die at the hands of his own fellow witch hunters over something so trivial.

Ruger observed carefully and recognized one of the small heads as the strange beast with two pairs of large wings that had carried them here.

The melodious snoring and the rustling of his beard contrasted sharply with the unwavering little heads on Zorn's chest. One exemplified what it meant to do whatever one pleased, while the other displayed steadfast loyalty and duty, like an unreliable owner raising a group of inexplicably clever and responsible pets.

“We just want to lift him onto the bed, without using magic, just by moving him by hand. You can keep watching us like this…”

Ruger thought for a moment, then slowly opened his mouth and said softly, "I can't keep bending over here forever."

Mahama, who was standing to the side, glanced at him with a slightly surprised expression.

“I believe they can understand. If you disagree… we can leave. You were with us while it was still light, and we were on your back…”

Ruger stared intently at the little winged creature, though of course, it wasn't showing its wings yet.

Mahama waited quietly to the side.

Generally speaking, aside from their own owners, magical pets have difficulty engaging in complex communication with others unless they are of a high enough rank, possess considerable intelligence, or are of a special type. This also involves some training philosophies. There is a type of wizard who will actively avoid such situations, pursuing the goal of keeping their magical pets completely unaffected by external influences.

Ruger and Mahama breathed a sigh of relief only after the little thing nodded.

The two exchanged a glance and tentatively bent down again. Although the little heads were still staring intently, the feeling that made their hair stand on end no longer appeared.

Hearing the snoring, Luger pursed his lips.

The two men had already lifted him up, but the wizard Zorn still hadn't woken up. Although they were gentle enough, it was still quite absurd.

Zorn even reached out and scratched his chest hair, and the dutiful little heads had to dodge his big hand.

They walked carefully, and finally, guided by a clever little fellow who tilted his head, they threw Zorn onto his messy bed.

Ruger walked out of Zorn's room and subconsciously let out a long breath.

He noticed that Mahama, standing beside him, was even sweating. Being stared at by a bunch of ferocious beasts of formal wizard level or above all the way hadn't been a good feeling.

"I've heard it before: stay away from drunkards on the street..."

Ruger joked, trying to ease the tension.

Mahama nodded in deep agreement.

I experienced a day full of unexpected little mishaps.

The two parted ways and returned to their respective rooms.

Halfway there, Ruger pursed his lips. He almost went the wrong way, not because he was unfamiliar with the place, but because he had been daydreaming.

Just like what happened that day, it seemed that every step was unexpected for Ruge, and even for Mahama, yet within their acceptable range.

Ruger sat on the fairly comfortable bed and simply completed the Lesser Sharpness spell, applying it to his fingertips.

Take out the empty bottle used for brewing the potion and start choosing a suitable spot to bleed the patient.

This was the first preparation he made for the sublimation ceremony.

Besides the large magic stone, the ascension ritual also requires a blood crystal. The scroll mentions the method of making the blood crystal, the main material being the so-called blood of the same origin. The so-called same origin does not mean that it has to be one's own, but one's own must meet the requirements. However, the scroll also encourages the use of blood of the same origin from different sources. After thinking it over, Luger realized that only Big Fool and Aiskin were suitable. Even Old Gold Tooth would not be suitable here, as his body had undergone a failed dragonborn transformation. Aiskin and Big Fool were kobolds from the same small tribe as him, and they had been bathed in the same kind of alien dragon blood.

There's no need to worry about the blood source; Big Fool Heng is still a sturdy and great fighter for life. Moreover, Luger has decided to save some of his own blood every day from now on, because he needs to purify it, just like the previous step in making a potion.

Of course, that was the end of it. He didn't intend to make blood crystals. Those things were not easy for a wizard apprentice to obtain. It would be best to have a formal wizard help him. However, Ruger believed that if old Lunther were here, he could definitely make them for him, and they would be of high quality. Unfortunately, the old dog head was nowhere to be seen, lying there rolling his eyes.

Fortunately, there was another method on the scroll: ten times the amount of purified blood of the same origin. This tenfold was calculated based on the amount needed to make one blood crystal. Luger wasn't in a hurry; accumulating a little each day was enough, and he also had Big Fool Hum.

What really required his effort was the last item besides the blood crystal. Even if he didn't have the rest on hand, he could get them from somewhere. He just needed to get a little over a thousand merit stones, which, combined with what he already had, should be enough.

Perhaps I should find an opportunity to consult Mahama, or that wizard Zorn.

Ruger thought to himself, slashing his palm open again; such good healing ability was also a problem.

(End of this chapter)