Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 365 God and Breakfast
It's easy to become a formal wizard, but the future is uncertain.
Ruger believed this was not a problem, and obviously most wizards thought so too, which is why they flocked to it one after another. This path ahead referred to a level that was difficult for most people to look up to, or even to imagine. For most wizards or wizarding apprentices, this was a problem that they could never touch in their lifetime, or rather, had no opportunity to worry about.

Admittedly, those who have the opportunity to become wizards are very confident, but confidence is not necessarily accompanied by inferiority complex; there is also rationality, rational thinking, and rational self-analysis.

Different people make different choices.

Just like the ancient tale told by the wizard Zorn, the cold stares of those with great ambitions, in Ruger's view, were something that the Beast King wizards inevitably had to endure during that specific period. Among them were the envious gazes of many, even wizards of the same or even lower levels, who dreamed of a brighter future for themselves and saw the Beast King wizards as cowards courting death. Lingering contempt was unavoidable until they completely shed the seemingly unchangeable reality surrounding the Beast King wizards and broke through all the shackles on their path.

In the world of wizards, strength is everything. Someone who might be given the cold shoulder during the day might be secretly studying the extraordinary path of a Beastmaster wizard at night.

Ruger looked at the drunkard in front of him, who was extremely relaxed on the island, walking arm in arm with ordinary people and acting recklessly.

Time has proven its worth, just as evidenced by the diverse array of Beastmaster Wizards we see today.

"grown ups……"

Ruger held the piece of blood-dripping leather in his hand.

Zorn waved his hand.

"I'm giving you all of this, including the thing you asked me to ask for advice on last time. Consider it payment for carrying me back last time."

Zorn, while drinking, said something unexpected.

Ruger raised an eyebrow; it seemed he had managed to keep his merit stone.

However, he didn't ask about the price; that was something to do at the end.

"My lord, regarding the application of the power of faith..."

Ruger observed the other person's expression, while his heart was filled with anticipation.

Zorn, clutching the bottle, was almost fully reclined, his legs resting on the armrests of the chair. He glanced at Ruger upon hearing this and chuckled.

The drunken laughter from the roadside startled Luger, who had been observing him.

"You should be able to tell that I'm not on the path of a religious wizard, and that stuff isn't of much use to me. I'd rather use it for alcohol... You should have a better option. Go ask that guy. I believe he'll be happy to help you. It's that guy you two got along so well with the other day, the little guy who was crying and laughing at the same time..."

As he spoke, Zorn closed his eyes and, smiling, gently tapped the armrests of the chair with his fingertips as if they were musical instruments.

"Go ahead, he will help you..."

Zorn added, then closed his eyes completely, holding only the bottle and gently tapping the armrest of his chair, seemingly immersed in his unique performance.

Perhaps the wine had already transformed the haphazard banging of the chair into a beautiful melody in his mind.

Ruger took a deep breath, folded the leather in his hand, put it away, bowed respectfully, and then turned to leave.

The house was quiet, but you could still hear the distant noise from the streets and alleys.

Ruger walked slowly.

God of sorrow?
Ruger suddenly realized that it was still unknown whether the other party would be happy to help, but Wizard Zorn seemed to be very happy to let him seek help from the other party or have a chat.

Can bringing him back in his drunken state really be considered payment?

The real reward, however, is actually the latter.

Ruger walked around the corner and curled his lip. In this secluded place, he could curl his lip forcefully and confidently, to the point of tilting it to the sky.

I'll go find that guy with the fake smile tomorrow. Being a witcher has its advantages, like being more convincing than those with dubious backgrounds.

Both sides are fifth-level wizard apprentices, so there's definitely room for negotiation.

Silent all night.

When Ruger woke up again, he could still hear snoring coming from the living room. He pursed his lips; the snoring that pierced through his bedroom door was at least more in tune than the banging of chairs that had been going on until late last night.

He straightened his clothes and pushed open the door.

The room at the end of the corridor remained quiet.

After several days of interaction, Ruger judged that the burly man Mahama was probably at the same stage as Green, the former apprentice seeker of the law, diligently honing his mental power which had already reached its limit. Moreover, this guy was slightly stronger than Green. When Ruger talked to him about the sublimation ceremony, the other party's emotions did not waver at all, which meant that he had probably already made preparations.

Ruger rubbed his face.

As he walked, he casually cast the Spirit Hair Nourishing Technique on his body.

They soon arrived on the street.

He had no specific goal, nor did he need to. He simply walked aimlessly, his hands never ceasing the Spirit Hair Nourishment spell.

He believed that everyone was intelligent.

In the few days since they arrived, he and Mahama have never concealed their presence in and out of the courtyard. As the owner of this place, that guy must already know their residence. It's just unknown whether he knows about the existence of the wizard Zorn. After all, if a formal wizard wants to hide himself from an apprentice, it is still very difficult to detect. Or perhaps he is also mistaken for an apprentice, a vulgar and unruly wizard apprentice who loves to drink.

The islanders passing by were talking about their catch at sea, occasionally thanking the gods who watched over the island's sorrow with eternal love.

"Haven't you had breakfast yet?"

An ordinary-looking figure appeared not far away, seemingly holding breakfast in his hand.

"This is what I just got; it only costs four small star coins."

As the man spoke, he raised his hand and handed it to Ruger.

"I can only give you two at most," he said with a smile.

Ruger glanced at it and took it without hesitation. It was still warm in his hand, with large, dark green leaves simply wrapping two semi-circular flatbreads.

The dough felt rather firm.

Seeing that he actually took it, the man smiled with a hint of expectation, looking at his hand.

“This is a kind of flatbread. It’s made with some flour and a little meat, but it’s not filled with a whole fish or meat cutlet, so it’s cheaper… After every celebration and carnival, there are people selling this kind of thing on the street,” the man said slowly with a smile. “Because they pick up the leftover roast meat, walk through the streets late at night, and then grind it into minced meat to make these flatbreads.”

Ruger raised an eyebrow upon hearing this.

He now understood what a man's inexplicable expectations were.

"Everyone knows where this stuff comes from, but it still sells very well. If you don't mind, you can try some."

The man maintained that slight smile.

"God, do you eat this stuff too?"

Ruger joked, pushing the wrapper aside and taking a big bite without a care.

A mature dragonborn kobold is not afraid of this thing.

Leiden had determined that he could digest anything with mild toxicity, and he wouldn't be disgusted by it, nor would he bother to be. At least in terms of taste, it was quite good. The maker had put in effort and made a good effort to make it delicious.

Luger bit into both pancakes at once, and by the time he finished speaking, more than half of them had disappeared.

The smiling god looked at Luger, who was puffing out his cheeks, and was clearly taken aback for a moment.

(End of this chapter)