"Can you help me erase the mark on this storage pouch?" Luge asked.
Baonte shook his head. "No apprentice wizard can do that."
"If possible, I'd like to collect my reward now," he probed cautiously.
In truth, he was far less calm inside than he appeared. Anticipation warred with anxiety; he craved spell knowledge, but just as desperately longed to get far away from these people immediately.
"Are you sure?" Baonte asked, looking at his tottering state.
Luge nodded again to confirm. He firmly believed in securing his gains without delay. If he could cash in now, why put it off? With the goods in hand, he would have much more freedom to look for an opportunity to leave. The world changed with every passing second; no matter what happened, he was convinced that hiding away as a little kobold, focusing solely on meditating to improve himself, would never be the worst option.
Baonte brought out several books and scrolls.
"I don't have time to teach you what I know right now, so you can only choose from here," Baonte said. "These are all spoils I've gathered recently. You may pick one to take."
"May I ask a question first?" Luge said.
"Of course," Baonte agreed readily. "Though among fifth-rank apprentice wizards, I'm hardly a scholar. I only focus on what I'm good at, plus a few rudimentary, common-sense things across various fields. I hope you won't embarrass me."
Baonte looked over Luge's small frame, seemingly guessing what he could possibly ask.
"I want to form a contract with a companion familiar, but I have some concerns..."
Before Luge could finish, a look of understanding dawned on Baonte's face, as if this were an all-too-common issue that needed no further explanation.
Baonte looked thoughtful, then began rummaging through his things as Luge waited eagerly beside him.
"This should be a good one. The simplest way to eliminate the hidden danger is to not contract a companion familiar at all. For Beast King Wizards, truly getting rid of the danger only happens after becoming formal wizards. That's why this was created—a contract stone, meant for people like you and apprentices who've just set foot on the path of the Beast King Wizard."
Baonte produced a small, rhombus-shaped stone.
"This familiar contract stone should be a fairly decent one—also spoils from recently. I don't know much about them, only that it can withstand about five or six attempts before shattering. If a caster at or above the rank of formal wizard tries to target you through your familiar, it can only block it once. Just incorporate it into the normal familiar contracting procedure. Once finished, you can stash it in your storage pouch, or let the familiar swallow it. When you sense it shatter, just feed it a new one. Here, I have two—you can take both."
Baonte produced another rhombus stone and casually tossed both to Luge, acting as if he had no regard for such items at all. He had likely only picked them up to trade for magic stones anyway.
"Since things like this were invented, hardly anyone uses those underhanded methods anymore," Baonte remarked.
Luge caught them with delight. The two rhombus stones were grayish-black throughout, dull and lusterless without the slightest hint of translucence.
"Pick a spell so we can get out of here," Baonte urged, laying out several books and scrolls before him. The shrunken body of the Gray Longneck Holy Lord bent over to serve as an impromptu table.
Luge relaxed his mind, flipping through them one by one while greedily trying to feel that spiritual guidance once more.
At the same time, he thought of where these things came from. A commission from the supposed Master Wizard Niteli had drawn a group of apprentice wizards—some in groups, some alone—to this obscure corner. The friction among the apprentice wizards far exceeded his expectations. Surely, as this commission developed toward its conclusion, there would be even more intriguing occurrences and clashes.
Just as Luge was about to give up hope and Baonte was growing impatient, that long-delayed spirituality finally knocked on his door once again.
Spirituality still favored him. Marveling at his luck, he picked up the book and checked the title again. Inscribed on the cover was Zero-Ring Spell: Demonic Form.
"That's a minor spell adapted from demonic flesh modification. It enhances the caster's resistance to most toxins, makes you grow taller, and makes you stronger for a short period. Casting it requires a catalyst—a spellcasting material bearing demonic aura. On the whole, it's not a mature or exceptional spell, definitely a grade below Bull's Strength. In my opinion, I wouldn't recommend it. Though you've already spared yourself the trouble of searching for materials—the Demonskin on you carries demonic aura."
As Baonte spoke, seeing that Luge still hadn't put the book down, he briskly stowed away the remaining books and inheritance scrolls.
From his towering perspective looking down, the burly man didn't notice that when he mentioned the spell could make one grow taller, Luge's little kobold eyes had already lit up.
"Thank you. I believe this is exactly what I need."
Luge solemnly stowed the book away. Compatible spells weren't easy to come by, and growing taller wasn't just some frivolous desire.
Baonte's massive hand suddenly reached down, scooping Luge up without asking for permission.
Then came inhuman, thunderous detonations as Baonte stomped across the ground. The surrounding scenery retreated in a blur amid staggering concussions. The sudden, violent sprint made Luge feel as though his bones were about to rattle apart. Moreover, he hadn't retrieved his favorite long staff, though fortunately, when salvaging his clothes earlier, he had already collected the two handy short spears.
Looks like Baonte really is in a rush, Luge thought, letting his mind wander along the way. Now that the big man had finally caught the snake, he was definitely eager for his next move. Luge had wanted to ask what would ultimately become of that sly serpent, the Gray Longneck Holy Lord, but unfortunately had found no opportunity to speak up.
After tearing along at breakneck speed, landmarks he could recognize began to appear.
His heart settled slightly.
Baonte came to an abrupt halt. Luge felt all the blood in his body surge violently forward. Before he could even catch his breath, he was set back on the ground, tumbling straight into a sitting position. Solid ground that didn't shake was truly a wonderful thing.
"I'm leaving for a few days. Give my regards to that cook," Baonte said.
Wiping his drool, Luge looked up, only to find the space before him already empty.
Given the tacit understanding between the two of them, they surely had no need for a little kobold running errands to pass messages. Best to just go his own way.
He immediately refreshed his Boiling Spirit and took out a short spear to hold in his hand. The enhancement from Bull's Strength hadn't faded yet. Recalling the map in his head, he chose a direction and set off.
The outside was too dangerous, and he was far too weak—that was the sole thought in his mind.
No roast meat could ever be as enticing as returning home to meditate in peace.
Moving in bursts and pausing along the way, he steered clear of several treacherous spots that clearly felt wrong. He crawled out from the mouth of a tunnel in an inconspicuous small cave district, looked into the distance, and once again laid eyes on the towering, spindle-shaped mushrooms.
He was finally back in the kobold hunting grounds.
I wonder if the lizardfolk have continued encroaching on the kobold settlement, he thought.
After resting briefly, seeing that he had made it this far, he tipped his head back and drank the other bottle of Big Dumb Hum's blood. With the green potion Baonte had given him as a final safety net, he could afford to be a bit extravagant to make the rest of the trek easier.
He quickened his pace as much as possible, though he was still noticeably slower than when he had first come.
Munching on a cooked grub as he walked, he weighed whether he should go see Half-Man immediately upon his return. Among wizards, giving always came with expectations. Since Half-Man wanted something from him, he probably wouldn't mind giving a little more—such as extending that magical little hand of his to help these agonizing injuries heal a bit faster.
Chapter 37