Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 455 Old Friend and Hound

Ruger was puzzled, and Mahama and Valin, the two wizard apprentices, were even more puzzled. However, they all chose to believe in the wizard Zorn. This hairy-chested man who loved to drink and would occasionally sleep by the roadside was actually quite measured in his actions and was not as casual and rude as he seemed. If his behavior at this moment was impolite, then there must be a reason why he was impolite.

The group approached at a leisurely pace, or rather, this was the direction they were heading in.

Ruger blinked.

Having recently undergone a promotion, he could roughly judge that the advanced practitioner seemed to have entered a critical moment.

Being able to advance in such a place is naturally related to one's own path, or it may be a hard requirement of a certain sublimation ceremony, such as having something in the mushroom forest that meets the conditions, or even, to put it more broadly, it may be to advance in the fairy kingdom.

In that case, the initial judgment would be invalid.

The other party is most likely not someone who stumbled upon and came to explore this broken country by chance.

Ruger looked at the unhurried wizard Zorn ahead. He was able to make this judgment because he was influenced by the wizard's current actions. It seemed that this man with exposed chest hair knew the other party's identity, or rather, he made a guess at the first moment. Now he was walking slowly, as if he wanted the other party to jump out and confirm it.

Could it be someone they know? An old friend of Zorn's?
As Ruger watched Zorn's retreating figure, he could neither sense the joy of reuniting with an old friend from the drunken wizard, nor could he detect any murderous intent.

The path leading deeper into the mushroom forest began to become sticky, and every step felt like stepping into mud.

As Luger walked, he looked around, but he didn't see any fairies here either.

This is a vast country with many fairies. Even if they gradually die, it wouldn't be so rare. Perhaps, as the big rat said, many fairies are rushing to attend the king's wedding.

Ruger stared ahead, where a huge, tall mushroom lay fallen, with magical fluctuations right in front of him.

"Gentlemen, strangers..."

A refined-looking old man, dressed in a black and red wizard's robe, stood there quietly watching Ruger and his group.

The refined old man adjusted his glasses, and after speaking for a while, he smiled and looked at everyone. He paused slightly on Ruger, and finally fixed his gaze on the wizard Zorn.

"It's never a dignified thing to disturb someone's ascension ceremony."

The old man spoke in a gentle, unhurried manner, as if he were chatting about everyday matters.

Ruger glanced around while keeping an eye on the wizard Zorn.

Standing diagonally behind, you can see from the side profile of the wizard Zorn that the corners of his mouth are slightly upturned.

Zorn slowly raised a finger beside him, and the symbol of the Witcher Wizard gradually lit up.

Ruger's expression changed in an instant. He noticed that the refined old man opposite him had already shown a hint of dissatisfaction when he saw Zorn raise his finger, even before the symbol appeared. Behind his elegant frameless glasses, his weathered eyes held an unusual coldness.

At this moment, Ruger finally realized that Zorn was definitely not meeting with some old friend.

Or rather, an old friend in a different way.

In a split second, Ruger realized that this was not some peculiar individual; this old friend must be part of an organization. This explained why Zorn could make such a rough judgment and guess, and also why the refined old man reacted to Zorn's actions.

That chilling coldness was something even more terrifying than anger or murderous intent.

It's like the gaze of a predator.

"Fortunately."

"Zorn said softly."

"What is your purpose in behaving so rashly and standing before me so rudely?" the refined old man said softly, glancing at Zorn.

"What I mean is, it's a good thing you're also a third-circle wizard, otherwise I would have embarrassed myself in front of these little guys."

Zorn laughed as he spoke, scratching his chest hair as he spoke.

"Sigh..." The old man adjusted his glasses and suddenly sighed.

"You fools, you always seem to show up at the most inopportune time..."

The refined-looking old man spoke, glancing at Zorn and the others.

Ruger had already slowly retreated, and when Mahama and Valin saw his movement, they naturally retreated even more carefully. They weren't retreating, but rather giving the wizard Zorn space.

“You stinking hounds of the Supreme Council,” the refined old man said in a deep voice.

Ruger leaped backward, his eyes widening in surprise.

He never expected that the old man would describe them in this way, not by cursing the witch hunters or the Holy Tribunal, but by directly mentioning the Supreme Council.

Ruger's expression shifted slightly as he heard the voice of the wizard Zorn.

"Don't hold back."

The words are brief and concise, and easy to understand.

Ruger swiftly hid behind a mushroom, used a lightness spell to land first, spread his Nightmare Wings, and glided to the other side, bidding farewell to the muddy ground, leaving behind the splattering sound of his footsteps.

Rumble!
As soon as he left, the giant mushroom that had been hiding there collapsed with a thud.

Wizard Zorn has already begun fighting with the old man.

Ruger didn't have time to see Mahama and Valin, but he also believed in these two senior level-five wizard apprentices, who were not just ultimate apprentices, but outstanding novice witch hunter wizards.

Stinginess leads to magic.

His figure began to change. Although he took a detour, he rushed towards the back of the huge mushroom with a clear goal. The surge of advancement was nearing its end.

Don't hold back.

Ruger recalled Zorn's warning.

At the same time, by taking the initiative, he can reduce the danger to his two apprentices, Mahama and Varin.

Zorn's words had a second meaning in Ruger's ears: there were no second-circle wizards here.

This can be considered an unspoken understanding between the two, a sign of Ruger's trust in this hairy-chested, alcoholic man—trust in his reliability and his abilities.

Gliding on its wings, Luger used the mushroom as leverage to push off and make the biggest turn.

The scene behind the mushrooms came into view.

The first thing Luger did was curse "stinky rat" in his mind.

That guy counted twice, but still miscalculated the number of people; the other side clearly had one more person than them.

Fortunately, the impact was minimal.

One of the men spotted Ruger and rushed forward; he was also a first-ring wizard.

Besides this person, there were two wizard apprentices and an inseparable figure who was advancing in his cultivation.

Ruger was not in a hurry. He flapped his wings and hovered in the air. In an instant, he stretched out one hand, and five small gray balls quickly condensed in front of his fingers.

The gray sphere resembled a fireball, but was smaller than a normal fireball. It condensed extremely quickly, and as it condensed, the patterns on Luger's body seemed to come alive, as if they were breathing.

(End of this chapter)