Within his own secure nest, open to the air on all sides, he had just concluded a round of meditation. He warmed up by reviewing the first six runes he had mastered, then directed his main efforts toward attempting to master the six newly appeared runes. Once his mental power was overdepleted and weariness set in, he would trace runes over his demonic mark to accelerate recovery, before waiting to experience the next wonderful bout of exhaustion.
After several such cycles, even if his mental power could be continuously restored, taking a pause to rest remained necessary.
Resting his head on his arms, he gazed at the now-bare hollow in the cave wall, his mind turning to what Old Gold Tooth had said.
There was sunlight, the turning of the sun and moon, and far away, enormous cities where humans gathered. Since all those existed, there surely had to be fine food, good wine, sturdy city walls, warm bedding, and bustling, steaming markets, perhaps with small puddles of muddy water on the streets that romping, laughing children would stomp through, splashing everyone around.
Yet, humans.
A human? Could I still be a human? Become a human again?
An ordinary lone little kobold wasn't even considered a ferocious beast. If humans crossed paths with one, they likely wouldn't spare it a serious glance, casually dealing with it using a bow or a large pitchfork while laughing and chatting with their companions.
So bearing this face, he could not recklessly venture to human cities. This was not mere facial prejudice, but whole-body discrimination—not a single hair from head to toe would be spared.
Looking like a kobold, in human eyes he was nothing more than prey, an ugly pest.
Besides, Old Gold Tooth had never even seen Earth Cave City, nor the so-called Earth Cave Domain. They were bound to be unimaginably distant. With his current strength, even if he knew the path, he might not survive the journey.
Surely a colossal Earth Cave City would have a library.
He sat up, brought out the four books, and began selecting the spell he would teach himself.
The two inheritance scrolls for Hair Removal and Boiling Spirit had already been consumed. The two spell models—one with nineteen nodes, the other with twenty—now hovered around his demonic mark, orbiting tirelessly.
The four exquisitely bound volumes corresponded to four zero-ring spells. In their prefaces, the authors stated their purpose: to explain each spell concisely and completely, with no modifications whatsoever, imparting only the most foundational and stable version.
The four spells were Fire Bolt, Demonskin, Ear Seed, and Ray of Frost.
He wished the Light of Spirituality would guide him once more, but it gave no reaction. It seemed picking the best among bad options was not an option either. Clearly, that old friend was not at his beck and call.
In principle, he wanted to learn Demonskin first, as it was a spell meant for taking a beating. But considering that apart from buffing himself with Bull's Strength and charging forward to swing a stick, he still lacked a more direct spell that affected a target. Fetid Skin was not suitable for every occasion either; as long as one lived, one would inevitably face strange and unusual situations.
He looked at Fire Bolt, but ultimately chose Ray of Frost.
Ray of Frost, zero-ring spell.
Legend held that the spell had first been created by a great wizard driven mad by tinkering with meditation methods. He claimed to have discovered pesky rheumatism sprites; tiny blue-and-white flecks of light would shoot rapidly from his hands, swarming through the air like bugs, specifically burrowing into the joints of the school's elderly wizards.
Unfortunately, his manuscripts were later destroyed. When others recovered and restored them, they produced only this straightforward blue-and-white beam that could not track targets on its own. Fortunately, the caster could still aim it at an enemy's joints, and the ray form preserved the original concept of continuous stacking; a mere instant's hesitation would allow the accumulated cold to leave the foe an unforgettable memory.
Holding the book, he flipped through it with satisfaction and put the other three away.
This might pair well with Fetid Skin, though so far he had not encountered any creature capable of enduring Fetid Skin for long.
Still, it was better to be prepared.
The spell could also help preserve stockpiled food: dig a pit, freeze it solid, and bury it carefully—it would surely keep for a long time.
Its direct destructive power lacked the sheer menace of Fire Bolt, but it synergized well with both Fetid Skin and Bull's Strength. For example, against a shield or a sturdy iron door where Fetid Skin was useless, Ray of Frost could chill the barrier, and Bull's Strength could follow up with a full-armed swing of a club to smash it to pieces.
Come to think of it, this was his first genuine attempt to master a spell through self-directed study.
According to Kaliu's diary, apprentices in wizard academies also spent much of their time studying on their own. The difference was that when facing critical bottlenecks, they could seek guidance from predecessors to quickly straighten out their thoughts and cross the threshold.
This was an essential advantage, and the very foundation of continuity in an institution like a wizard academy.
He realized that he seemed to have such a person too: a friendly predecessor.
No, make that half a predecessor.
By now, Half-Man had surely waited until questions filled his mind and confusion creased his brow.
Luge decided he shouldn't leave Half-Man waiting too long. He would study it himself first, note down whatever he couldn't grasp, and make time to consult Half-Man. Even if he understood everything, he would still put on a show of asking. That would give peace of mind to this good person who was currently still an enthusiastic senior; getting overly agitated was hardly good for the head.
With Fetid Skin maintained in its second state at all times, he could meditate and rest without worry. The only one who could find their way here, aside from enemies blundering in by accident, was simple-minded Aisjin. He had no fear of accidentally harming anyone. Amusingly, he had later run into Big Dumb Hum once, and the hulking brute harbored not a shred of malice toward him.
If Old Gold Tooth heard of this, he would surely tease: Look! That is the magnanimity of the royal bloodline!
The diligent little kobold completed another round of meditation.
"Big Brother, you smell even nicer."
The little chrysalis worm-person was perched in a hollow on the opposite cave wall, legs dangling, staring at him unblinkingly.
That was the scene greeting him the moment he opened his eyes.
Startled inwardly, he remembered the spell he had been sustaining and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
"You didn't smell the stinky magic odor this time, did you?"
He didn't scold the alarming little bug.
The little crybaby worm-person wasn't weeping this time, but her eyes remained watery, as though tears might spill over at the slightest touch.
Hearing his question, the little worm-person shook her head. "I'm going into the city next time. I came to see you one last time. My little brother just said he likes you a lot."
Luge looked at the nurturing bag at his waist. There was no movement from the pouch, and its opening remained closed.
"Did you fail?" he asked.
For an instant, the little worm-person looked crestfallen.
"I reached the city, but I searched for a long time and couldn't find an entrance. But soon, I'll find it soon," the little worm-person cheered up again, swinging her legs as she said, "Don't worry, I found a good, safe place and slept soundly. As soon as I woke up, I came to see you. In a little while, I'll head back and keep looking for the entrance."
"What can it eat? When will it break through the shell?"
He gently shook the nurturing bag.
"It says it doesn't want to come out yet. Once it hatches, you can feed it those white worms found everywhere outside. It should like them very much," the little worm-person said.
Luge was rather surprised to hear this, but on second thought, ordinary bugs along the roadside ate other bugs too. Different bugs had different natures.
Old Gold Tooth had trapped himself in his own regrets.
Just as he was about to ask further questions, the little worm-person's expression changed abruptly, and in a flash she was gone.
Luge didn't even pause in confusion. He took off running at once, activating Bull's Strength from the demonic mark with his very first stride. No matter what it was or why it was happening, getting away came first.
Chapter 16