Cleverness and Foolishness

Old Gold Tooth pursed his lips and did not answer immediately.

While waiting, Ruger recalled the images that had surfaced in his mind of Kobolds covered in scales. Those must have been Dragonborn Kobolds. In that instant, he also thought of the Half-Man, the brainless wizard who could not move. Since he had said he could help Ruger break free from the short-lived species' restraints, it was reasonable to guess that the Half-Man likely possessed something capable of transforming Dragonborn Kobolds.

Since he was a powerful wizard, he could not be using worthless junk. If they were talking about the most effective thing, it had to be dragon blood.

From Ka Liu's diary, Ruger had learned that aside from tinkering with scrolls, wizards loved making all sorts of strange potions. Could the Half-Man have a potion made from dragon blood? Directly using or consuming raw materials was considered a great humiliation by wizards, an enormous waste. In their eyes, only materials refined through wisdom were the finest choice.

A commotion broke out among the distant Kobolds.

Aisijin immediately got up to see what was happening. Old Gold Tooth was not going to die for the time being, and she no longer wore that sorrowful expression.

To Ruger, the two Kobolds seemed somewhat like a father and daughter, or perhaps a grandfather and granddaughter.

Of course, with the loose family values of normal Kobolds, there would be no such special familial attachment. They gathered in tribes only because they were too weak. Before Ruger appeared, Aisijin and Old Gold Tooth might have been the only Kobolds each could talk to. That was why they were so close. In their eyes, the other Kobolds were probably more like beasts than kin.

Aisijin ran back in large strides.

She looked at Old Gold Tooth first, then turned to Ruger. "Gray Longneck Saint Lord is back! And then, then they discovered that Master Black Claw is gone! There's blood everywhere! So, so much blood! Outside the sacred cave, the blood covered the ground in front of it..."

With every sentence she spoke, Big Silly Hum's broad shoulders trembled once.

After the initial shock passed, the return of Gray Longneck Saint Lord seemed to have little effect on the Kobolds present.

After a long silence, Old Gold Tooth finally spoke.

"Their scents are too similar..."

The old Kobold seemed to have exhausted all his strength just to say that one sentence.

"I wasn't like you and Aisijin. Most smart Kobolds weren't like that either. We became smart during the process of transforming into Dragonborn Kobolds... Although I never became a Dragonborn Kobold, I still grew a little taller."

"Before that, I was the smallest and stupidest in the tribe. All the Kobolds bullied me, and I was almost never full. Then one day, they gave me food and watched me eat. I was happy, and I ate in huge mouthfuls... Whenever I finished, they gave me another piece. It was the fullest meal of my life... I kept eating... eating until my stomach was about to burst..."

There was no obvious change in the old Kobold's tone, but the threads of light growing from his body shook more and more violently with his words.

"Only much later, when I was being transformed into a Dragonborn Kobold, did my mind suddenly become smarter... Then I learned that bite by bite, I had eaten my Insectfolk friend..."

"My friend was cut into many pieces. The stupid me didn't recognize him..."

At this point, Old Gold Tooth curled his lip as though he were talking about something dull.

Meanwhile, many thoughts flashed through Ruger's mind. He had originally thought Old Gold Tooth would know what those fat flesh bugs were. It seemed his hopes had been in vain. Still, one thing had been revealed: the flesh bugs smelled very similar to the Insectfolk Tribe. That made him think of the Little Crybaby Bug who had never left behind a name.

And Aisijin—she was the truly rare smart Kobold. He was only a counterfeit.

"I'll tell you another interesting thing."

Old Gold Tooth wore a strange expression.

"I might be part of Kobold royalty." He paused, watching their expressions. "According to legend, a very, very long time ago, all Kobolds were intelligent. They wore beautiful clothes, had enormous cities, and possessed their own civilized kingdoms. They were even stronger than those pointy ears."

"But later, they did something wrong and were cursed. In the blink of an eye, their civilization vanished and their kingdoms collapsed, leaving them like this. The purer a Kobold's royal bloodline, the more foolish it becomes." As he spoke, he glanced at Big Silly Hum. "Especially this sort—big and foolish. They fit the royal traits from the legends best. Meanwhile, the bloodlines of ordinary Kobolds, who had not been as intelligent or brave in the past, bore less of the curse. Their descendants might still produce a few smart Kobolds."

While the three chatted.

The distant Kobolds had already prepared to head out and hunt for Gray Longneck Saint Lord.

Aisijin turned to look at Old Gold Tooth, clearly eager to move as well. Ruger could tell at a glance that she did not want Old Gold Tooth eating random things again. And since the old Kobold would not eat bug meat, his only option was to follow the tribe out hunting.

"Don't go out now. Eat this instead. I only need one claw tip as a weapon."

He took out the huge black claw, barely cut into it with his beast-fang dagger, then relied on brute force to tear it apart.

How could Aisijin not understand whose claw this was? Watching Ruger divide up the Saint Lord's claw, her expression changed repeatedly.

Big Silly Hum was even more pathetic, continuously shrinking backward, displaying all the bearing expected of royalty.

Ruger left behind the meat and departed, reminding Aisijin that even if she kept her distance, she could not stay with Old Gold Tooth all the time.

Though he still wanted to talk with Old Gold Tooth about a few things, the old Kobold was clearly already exhausted.

After twisting and turning through the tunnels, he returned to his secluded little nest.

Sitting quietly by himself and maintaining the Stinking Skin Spell actually made him feel safer.

He took out the Black Book and prepared to study new runes. Everything changing around him gave him more motivation. And there was the map in his mind—he believed the inheritances left behind by those wizards would not disappoint him. Of course, that was only the little Insectfolk's side of the story.

Drowsiness suddenly swept over him. Before he even had time to eat, he fell into a deep sleep.

This sleep was especially deep.

Half-awake, he saw that tree again—the incomparably sacred tree he had seen once when solidifying Foul-Smelling Skin. Back then, it had seemed as if he had crossed an immense distance just to glimpse it from afar. This time, however, he saw it from another angle. He drifted around the giant tree like a floating wisp of fluff.

Suddenly, he felt that it was not a tree. Once that thought arose, the more he looked, the more it resembled one.

It was a hand—a hand whose lower palm was beginning to be buried. The five thick branches were its five fingers.

As for its pure white color, that was because it had no flesh. It was a skeletal palm stripped of all flesh and blood.

What was sacred was the bone.

The moment he understood all this, the scene before him suddenly shook.

He woke up.

The first thing he noticed upon waking was that the Stinking Skin Spell seemed to be somewhat different.