The crimson-backed lizardfolk were not only stronger, but they also seemed to have worse tempers than their green-backed kin.
Previously, when lizardfolk met, they would at least let out a couple of chirps or hisses. One could catch a fleeting shift in their expressions and emotions, along with subtle little gestures—like tilting their head slightly to cast a quick sidelong glance at their companions before launching an attack. Now, the moment these crimson-backed brutes locked eyes, they charged forward with savage roars. Every single one looked ready to pop their eyeballs right out of their sockets. Dozens of lizardfolk brandished their short spears without a single superfluous expression or movement.
"I just wanted to fetch a pair of boots, and here they are making trouble for me again." Naturally, he was not afraid of these little lizards, even though they stood three or four heads taller than him.
Watching the lizardfolk collapse and writhe in various contortions actually made him feel that these creatures were livelier than before.
This land had always been kobold hunting territory. However, after several clashes where the kobolds' Holy Lords died in succession, their hold had weakened, and lizardfolk began appearing here in scattered groups. Now, they were acting as though they intended to occupy it entirely, even poised to push all the way into the kobold burrows.
The lizardfolk already possessed an expansive hunting ground no smaller than this one. If they annexed another, their growth would surely become unstoppable. Furthermore, the mysterious emergence of grubs was drastically increasing the value of every stretch of territory.
With his long staff rested over his shoulder, Luge had two more carefully selected short spears stowed in his storage pouch.
Before he knew it, he found himself advancing toward a dense, towering thicket. Neither kobolds nor lizardfolk normally approached this forest of unknown, tree-like growths. In that sense, their so-called turf wars were rather pathetic; after all, even within their own territories lay many forbidden zones they dared not enter. Neither faction was a mighty regional overlord; both were merely struggling to survive in the crevices of the Earth Cave's vast subterranean expanse.
He promptly shifted direction, deciding to detour around it.
As he walked, remaining vigilant and cautious, he no longer felt the tension that had gripped him when he first left the small cave district.
Surveying the surroundings and the perils lurking everywhere—some noisy, some silent—was this not a dark kind of spring outing? The only difference was that the sightseer had to carry a staff and wield spells. Vigilance was the brain-teaser played along the way, and splattering blood took the place of a spring breeze brushing across the face, carrying a hint of warmth amidst the chill.
Unfortunately, he had no intention of becoming a kobold poet.
Amidst this scenery, even as he marveled at the strange environment, he was also pondering how to combine his mastered spells to tackle whatever troubles might arise, and deciding which spell to learn next.
The choice of spell could wait for further thought; after all, that was the entire purpose of this long journey, and he might reap new spells along the way.
Staff on his shoulder, he walked until his legs ached, wasting no time on anything he could safely ignore and concentrating entirely on making progress.
Kobolds possessed decent stamina, and aided by magic, once he felt his legs aching, he realized he truly had covered quite a significant distance.
Even so, he merely slowed his pace rather than coming to a dead stop.
He was searching for ground solid enough to rest on, which would guard against hazards from below.
He remembered Kaliu's diary mentioning a spell capable of turning earth into solid rock. Back then, he had thought that if he ever got the chance, he must learn it, for it would have numerous uses. Alas, as a mere kobold, such opportunities were not easy to come by.
Drifting between waking and sleep, he opened his eyes several times at the slightest sound. At each jolt, he yearned intensely for a companion familiar.
The Black Codex contained a method to contract a familiar tailored to the Demonic Mark Meditation Method. He had refrained from using it, partly out of fear of that rumored fatal vulnerability where an enemy could harm the master through the familiar, and partly because he had not encountered a suitable candidate. He had harbored some hopes for the little creature in the nurturing bag, but it had yet to break out of its shell, content to curl up inside and sleep soundly.
He could not tell if it was noon, morning, or night.
Opening his eyes once more, he engaged in a brief meditation before shouldering his staff and continuing on his way.
He pressed forward at a brisk march toward his objective.
*Boom!*
A thunderous rumble erupted in the distance, followed by the sporadic scraping of a heavy mass dragging across the earth.
Luge kicked off the ground and darted straight into a nearby shallow pit, pressing flat against the dirt.
Before long, he cautiously raised his head and caught sight of an old friend.
The colossal body of the Gray Longneck Holy Lord writhed and slithered wildly, crawling rapidly into the distance. Along the way, it overturned countless obstacles—things Luge recognized and things he did not—carving out a path in its wake.
Even after the giant serpent passed, Luge remained prone on the ground, motionless and waiting in silence.
Sure enough, not long after the Gray Longneck Holy Lord departed, a figure sprinted past at high speed, giving chase in broad strides.
This time, he waited a good while longer before picking himself up.
*Could that be another kobold?*
With that thought in mind, he hoisted his staff and hurried away from the area.
Thinking back carefully on that fleeting figure, it did not look much like a kobold—not even a specimen like Bald Tooth. It looked far more like a human, a tall and powerful human.
He did not dwell on the matter, only hoping he would not deviate from his route due to unforeseen events and end up lost.
Whether his hopes had been answered or Luge's sense of direction as a kobold was simply keen, after a period of traveling without rest, he looked up in pleasant surprise to see the distant entrance connecting to his destination, the small cave district, faintly visible.
Perhaps the lizardfolk also deserved some credit.
He looked down at the dozens of lizardfolk lying at his feet. Among them were crimson-backed lizardfolk, as well as his old friends, the green-backed ones. He had lost count of how many bands he had run into. Their numbers had varied; during the larger encounter, they had posed some genuine threat to him.
This rapid march had been delayed quite a bit by these little lizards, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Had it not been for them, he would have strayed off course. Moreover, he had blunted the momentum of their advance in the process.
The lizardfolk appeared to be traveling in separate groups to rendezvous somewhere. Unfortunately, he did not know their language and could glean nothing from questioning them.
Though the cave entrance seemed within reach, he had to push through and march for a long time yet.
Ever since his previous experience, he had pinned his hopes for rest on this small cave district. Resting in the open expanse only reminded him anew of how minuscule a kobold was. Perhaps it was the instinct of a pack creature at work, but he believed it was also rooted in his own weakness.
Fortunately, he had only cut across diagonally on a short trajectory. Had he traversed the full expanse, it might have taken several times longer by the end.
Viewed from that vast cavern world, the entrance to the small cave district had not seemed very large.
Yet once he actually stepped inside, he found the diameter of the passageway to be more than three times that of the tunnels back in kobold territory.
After walking for a stretch, he sought a place to rest.
Distant dripping sounds were accompanied by a pressing, gloomy chill that had coiled around him ever since he entered.
He stopped, venturing no deeper, and found a corner to sit down and rest.
The presence of Fetid Skin was what gave him the confidence to attempt sleep while alone in the wild, serving as his greatest reliance.
As his body relaxed, days of accumulated exhaustion surged forth like a tide, seeping into every inch of flesh and bone until it submerged him. His eyelids struggled against the overwhelming flood before inevitably sinking shut, and steady breathing arrived on cue, ushering him into a deep slumber.
Chapter 27