Rumble!
A sudden tremor rang out.
Ruger was still standing on the Blackstone Steps. He steadied himself and turned toward the pitch-black opening. He had not left, nor had the figure who had received him.
"No need to be alarmed, sir. Some layers of the Abyss have been subsiding lately-" said the figure with four horns.
Ruger blinked and nodded his thanks to the figure.
There were understandable reasons for designing these attendants with such indistinct appearances. Their faces could not be seen, their true auras could not be sensed, and even their voices were obscured. This prevented unnecessary trouble involving certain unusual Wizards who could not be looked at directly, certain unusual incidents, and even petty, twisted Wizards doing something out of line. The minds of the twisted were difficult to fathom, and if there was one thing Wizards never lacked, it was eccentrics. Even voices and appearances could become sources of curses.
The tremors slowly subsided.
Ruger rolled his shoulders and slowly headed down.
The young-looking figure was not far away and had not stopped walking because of the sudden tremor. Most of the surrounding Wizards had reacted the same way. Clearly, those who came here often knew about it.
Should I go or not?
Ruger stood on the last step.
The gloom could not obstruct his canine eyes.
That fellow was still walking at an unhurried pace, looking full of confidence.
The token, the aura, the hints connected to Demon Wizards, and the other party's inexplicable confidence had indeed piqued his curiosity-and intensely so.
After weighing it over and over, he set his short little legs moving.
In the gloom, a short Kobold followed a Wizard who stood tall and straight.
One was utterly at ease; the other looked thoroughly reluctant.
Ruger looked around as he walked.