When Luge rushed over, stumbling and half-running, the snake-catching had already ended—or rather, had not truly begun.
An apprentice wizard stood in front of Baonte. It was none other than the eager man who had left earlier—the very first to take the initiative to greet Luge. Behind him lay the shrunken Gray Longneck Holy Lord, completely motionless. Several claws made of shadow gripped the serpent tightly, though clearly these grotesque claws were not the primary reason for its stillness; mere claws would hardly keep it from putting up even the slightest struggle.
"We meet again, poor little thing."
The eager fellow was as enthusiastic as ever, but Luge didn't quite dare greet him. The situation before him was plainly wrong.
"I really wonder what kind of experiment your mentor is conducting. If I recall correctly, anyone who sheds their status as a test subject to become an apprentice wizard is registered under the presiding experimenter and calls them 'mentor.' Fascinating, really. But why alter you into this shape? Hmm... so thorough, so flawless. If kobolds couldn't possibly become apprentice wizards, I'd almost believe you were a genuine kobold." The eager man looked Luge up and down as he spoke, entirely ignoring Baonte in front of him.
At Baonte's sides, his fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly, as if warding off cramps, producing a series of sharp cracks that set one's teeth on edge.
"This snake—I caught it for you."
The eager man finally turned his head to face forward.
"You tried several times to catch it without success, Baonte. I wonder if you're thanking me from the bottom of your heart right now?" The eager man chuckled. "Still, as a good friend, it wouldn't do to cause you trouble by mistake. So let's make sure there are no errors—you'd best confirm whether it's the one you've been chasing all along."
Luge had expected Baonte to be incandescent with rage, but instead saw Baonte's expression gradually settle into calm, as though he truly were facing an old friend who simply loved to joke.
"Am I right, 'Power' Baonte? Apprentices from all over still talk about your moniker, yet we're just a bunch of fifth-rank apprentice wizards. There's no need to act like grand wizards with spell sequences. I've even seen them arguing about you—some say that whenever trouble comes, you show astonishing forbearance, while others say you're a fellow who never tolerates a thing."
The bizarre shadow claws squirmed, lifting the motionless grayish-white serpent to the eager man and winding it around his body bit by bit—from neck to armpits, down to his waist.
The eager man gripped the snake's head with one hand while letting the tail drape to the floor on the other side, looking as though he had donned a cuirass made of a great serpent.
"Now, listen closely while I speak. Confirm whether this is the snake you've been after. I'd hate to have caught the wrong one by mistake."
The man looked at Baonte, eyes brimming with anticipation.
"This snake... in my opinion... clearly has something to do with that little chrysalis worm-person. Look at this head, look at this tail, look at every single scale. Am I right, my friend?" He grinned, manipulating the snake's head as he spoke. "Haha, alright! Even if nothing can be seen from the outside, at such a critical moment during Lord Wizard Niteli's mission, you keep going after this snake. That leaves me no choice but to be suspicious."
After a brief silence, he spoke again:
"So, my friend, answer me now. Is this the snake you've been chasing?"
Silence remained. Luge glanced left and right, stealthily taking half a step back, then another half-step. No one present seemed to pay him any heed, which was a very good thing.
In truth, he was also deeply curious as to why Baonte was chasing the Gray Longneck Holy Lord. Surely it wasn't just to make snake soup that he had hounded it into such a state.
He carefully turned over everything that had happened recently. The only thing that seemed to match up was that the Gray Longneck Holy Lord's appearance coincided roughly with when this group of apprentice wizards had arrived in the area. But that proved nothing, offering no useful clues worth dissecting.
And then there was the message the Gray Longneck Holy Lord had whispered to him earlier, telling him to stay away—an apparent warning.
Suddenly, a stranger stepped out from a side passage, blocking Luge's retreat. Naturally, this newcomer was almost certainly there to cut off Baonte's escape; Luge was merely an incidental bystander.
"True friends know how to share secrets, Baonte," the man blocking the rear said.
"Just the two of you? A waste of my time."
Baonte finally spoke, his tone remarkably calm.
Seeing that his retreat was blocked, Luge pressed against the wall immediately. Fifth-rank apprentice wizards still operated within the scope of zero-ring spells. The figures before him might be exceptionally formidable, but that remained the case. Thus, according to Kaliu's diary, a low-ranking apprentice like him caught in such an affair would always be the primary target of attack.
That was to say, if a clash broke out, you disposed of the insignificant trash that might disrupt the situation first—or something along those lines.
Bang! An explosive crack rang out!
Just as Luge had expected, Baonte chose to strike, but his target was the man blocking the rear.
This created an opportunity for Luge as well. Bolstered by Bull's Strength, he charged right behind the fifth-rank apprentice big shot—the big guy was out to pummel someone, while Luge was looking for an opening to slip away.
A little kobold must never court big trouble.
That was his creed.
As he ran, he pulled out various jars, bottles, and disgusting potions of unknown purpose that he had salvaged in small amounts from his earlier inheritance, flinging them all behind him. In an instant, dense green fog spread outward.
With the mist rolling behind him, he had already broken out right behind the big guy. As he ran, he loosed a long-prepared Ray of Frost into the thick fog behind him.
When he looked back again, the fellow blocking the path had already been blasted airborne by Baonte's fist in an instant. An invisible force seemed to wrap around that fist—even before the blow landed solid, the man was already flung into the air, followed immediately by a direct punch to the torso. Just when Luge thought Baonte would press his advantage—
Baonte suddenly spun around and brushed past him. Seeming completely oblivious to Luge's stunned expression, Baonte charged straight back into the green fog-choked cave.
Looks like that snake really is important to him, Luge thought.
His feet never stopped. He unleashed Fetid Skin, simultaneously energizing the spell model for Demonskin so he could cast it the instant energizing finished. The fellow Baonte had knocked flying was most likely a fifth-rank apprentice wizard as well; Luge had no desire to test his luck against him.
To be sure, he also felt a fleeting urge to seize the opportunity to finish off a fifth-rank apprentice, curious to see what effect his inexplicably altered Fetid Skin would have on a normal fifth-rank apprentice wizard with a physical body.
Yet his cautious nature held him back from taking such a gamble.
Unless there was no way to avoid it—like right now.
A staggering figure got back to his feet, glanced toward Luge with a mere passing look, and then also lunged toward the area engulfed in green mist.
Only, in this tunnel spacious enough to host a grand barbecue party, that figure brushing past him on the other side casually hurled a spell his way. Calling it a single spell was only because of its blinding speed—in a split second, blistering heat rushed at him as no fewer than twenty fist-sized fire pellets shot forth. Their momentum and coverage sealed off every route he could possibly dodge or maneuver through.
In an instant, an image of his own shattered, mangled body flashed through his mind.
Meanwhile, the passerby who had casually cast the spell and was about to surge past seemed to be in terrible shape himself.
Chapter 34