Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 427 Change and Time Limit

The Dream Tree shook violently, and Luger woke up abruptly, feeling as if the world was spinning.

He smelled the aroma of grilled fish and fish bone soup, blinked, and realized that this was the first time he had been shaken out of his dream by the Dream Tree. It was a wonderful experience he had never had before.

"Brother Luger, dinner is ready!"

Aiskin called to him by the fireplace, seemingly unaware that Ruger had just taken a nap.

Ruger staggered to his feet, taking firm steps forward as he followed the aroma of food, pondering the strange events that had just transpired.

He even suspected that the surging aura unique to the nightmare world might not be the first time it had appeared, and if he had gone to bed on time as usual during this period, he probably would have encountered it long ago.

Ruger looked up and saw two kobolds staring at him expectantly.

"It tastes great!" he said with a smile.

The two guys were waiting for his opinion on the new dish.

Hearing his affirmation and seeing him take a big bite of the fish, the two men immediately smiled.

As Ruger enjoyed the food and watched their smiles, his anxious and uncertain mood, which had been filled with many twists and turns, gradually improved.

When I'm in a good mood, my appetite increases even more.

Big Fool Heng prepared an extra portion of fried fish fillets according to Luger's usual appetite, but it still wasn't enough to satisfy Luger's appetite. When the two dragonborn kobold chefs saw Luger pick up the last portion of fish fillets, they rushed to the stove and began to cut fish slices that could be cooked quickly and throw them into the hot soup. Soon, a large pot of fish slice soup was also in Luger's stomach.

Ruger comfortably rubbed his belly as he leaned back in the recliner.

In his current state, he judged that meditation was no longer suitable for recovery. Whether he was full or his mind was foggy, a good night's sleep was the best option.

The ultimate feeling of fullness and the combined mental and physical exhaustion are the best ways to fall asleep.

He just hoped that this time he wouldn't be dreaming.

Otherwise, it is highly likely that you will be inexplicably shaken out by an earthquake, essentially being woken up to go back to sleep.

As Ruger drifted off to sleep, his eyes gradually closed. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of Aiskin circling in the distance, her fists clenched, occasionally glancing in his direction.

“Aiskin…”

Ruger opened his eyes, his eyebrows twitching slightly as he looked at her.

Hearing the sound, Aiskin hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked over.

Seeing that Ruger was still looking at her, she understood what he meant; he was waiting for her explanation.

“I…I read in a book, in the third volume of Dawn Knight's story, that he began to follow a great wizard. Together they slew demons and did many things, but that great wizard often exhausted himself, sometimes going for more than ten days without sleep. In order to successfully slay demons, the wise Dawn Knight would knock that great wizard unconscious with his fists the day before each operation,” Aiskin blinked and said earnestly. “I am very strong, and my fists are more likely to put people to sleep than the Dawn Knight's fists. I am the Sleep Warrior…”

Ruger really wanted to roll his eyes, but his head was throbbing, so he could only silently send Aiskin away.

Before leaving, he promised that he would consider her fists if he ever had insomnia in the future.

But at this moment, there's absolutely no need.

Ruger relaxed on the recliner and quickly fell asleep. He had no dreams, no wild thoughts, and no worries or anxieties. It was as if everything had stopped, and he simply let time flow by slowly, accompanied by the rhythmic rise and fall of his not-so-loud snores.

It wasn't until a violent tremor woke Luger from his deep sleep.

Ruger shook his head and raised his eyebrows in satisfaction. Although the vibration had woken him, he knew he had slept enough, and it had been quite a long sleep. His head no longer felt the discomfort he had felt before, and he was once again a well-rested and energetic dog.

According to his judgment, if they were to play it safe, they could try again tomorrow to glimpse the view behind that door.

As for now, he couldn't waste this day. He thought of the blank pages in his teacher's notes. He wouldn't have mentioned them when he was clueless, but now that he had a direction and specific questions, he could use this day of rest to write down his questions on the blank pages and ask his teacher for advice. Then he could also go find Zamao No. 1, who should be able to accept believers again.

Ruger jumped up from the old recliner, about to ask Aiskin how long he had slept.

Aiskin and Big Fool had already handed him a large cup of hot tea and a large skewer of roasted meat.

Luger smiled and took the cup, only to find that Big Fool was staring at his face.

"Brother Luger, why are you crying?"

Aiskin asked curiously.

Ruger paused for a moment, then touched his dog face; he was actually silently shedding tears.

Judging from the hair on his cheeks and the tear stains, he must have just started crying.

His first thought was of the time when he was first summoned by the God of Knowledge, the future God of Wizardry, with his strange power and magic array on the comb flying device. The fever in his head and the tears, the discomfort, only stopped after he hid in his bedroom space.

Now, Luger held his teacup and looked up at the spatial wall, as if this place could no longer completely resist the power of that attraction.

What happens if you are successfully inspired? Will you become a faithful believer?

Would they voluntarily step out of their own space, burst into tears, or even kneel down on the ground with a fanatical expression?

But thinking about it, since that person wants to be the god of wizards, he shouldn't let his followers ruin their future. Maybe being his follower can even bring some benefits in terms of wizardry.

He could already feel a slight warmth, which seemed to originate from his own mental space.

He thought of the violent tremor that had just woken him up.

Something must have changed outside at that moment.

Ruger racked his brains and could only think of one possibility: that person had become stronger and taken another step closer to becoming the God of Wizards. The other person might be a powerful high-level wizard, as Lord Kurt guessed, but there was still more than one step away from that goal. Now, he had taken that step.

Luger pondered that since the other party had become stronger, then he also had no choice but to become stronger.

Even when confined to a small space, the weak spiritual power gradually lost its ability to resist.

Ruger took the huge skewer of meat and swallowed the chunks of meat in a few bites.

He picked his teeth with the skewer he used to skewer meat as he paced back and forth, pondering the question he would ask the teacher.

He ultimately decided to take the risk and asked the two crucial questions he faced. If his teacher's answers satisfied him, he might be able to complete the Ascension Ritual without having to peer through the door again. His teacher had given him three chances to ask questions. He was gambling on whether his teacher was knowledgeable enough and had studied the Ascension Ritual. After all, each wizard had a different focus. If he asked less tricky questions, he would have a better chance of getting an answer. But he would most likely still have to peer through the door, and probably more than once.

As for the three opportunities to ask questions, he reserved one because this opportunity to ask questions is not just about asking questions; it is essentially a means of communicating with the teacher.

Ruger handed the teacup to Big Fool Heng, spread out his notebook on the stone bed beside him, paused for a moment, then concisely and accurately wrote the question on the blank page at the back of the notebook, and then began the long wait.

As he finished writing, he also set a time limit in his mind: three days at most. If there was still no response to the notes the teacher had given him after three days, then he would go and peek into the fascinating world behind that door once again.

(End of this chapter)