Humans and Dogs

A grand feast came to an end.

He had no idea whether it had been dinner, breakfast, or lunch. All he knew was that he had eaten well.

Ruger leaned against the Black Book, one leg crossed over the other. His little feet swung twice before pausing slightly. He plucked a thin grass stem from the edge of his grass skirt, picked his teeth with it, and resumed swinging his filthy feet.

He had outdone himself this meal, eating fully half a fat flesh worm.

He had always tried hard to eat more and sleep more so he could grow taller and stronger. Unfortunately, the process of eating then sleeping and sleeping then eating had never gone smoothly. Fortunately, he later found this precious book.

He thought the Black Book's covers, black on both sides, seemed to be made from some sort of insect shell.

Suddenly, footsteps rang out.

They echoed through the branching tunnels.

Ruger slowly sat up and reached for the long staff he was used to using.

His pleasant post-meal rest had ended for no apparent reason.

The footsteps were not noisy, but they beat like hurried drums. That meant there was only one person coming, and they were in a great hurry.

He held his breath, perked up his notched ear, and pressed his back tightly against the tunnel wall.

But gradually, he relaxed again.

As if confirming his guess, a familiar voice soon rang out.

"Brother Ruger, I knew you would be here. Did you eat enough?"

The figure stopped before him. It was another Kobold wearing a grass skirt. Though she was a Kobold, she could be called a girl for the time being.

A Kobold girl taller than him.

"Aisijin, I told you before, you don't need to run when you come to see me."

He looked at the Kobold girl with some irritation.

That was frightening. He was a nervous little Kobold who often lost fur from insomnia.

"Oh, because... happy!"

Kobold girl Aisijin did not speak very smoothly. Her reversed sentence structures often made Ruger tired just from listening.

That was only because she often chatted with him. Before, whenever she tried to express something, she got so anxious that people wanted to pull out the fur on either side of their heads.

Even so, she was already another oddity among this group of Kobolds. He had even suspected that she, like him, came from another world. Unfortunately, the facts proved he had been thinking too much. The Kobold girl only barely seemed human when she was around him. Ferocity and bloodlust were her other side.

"We have a master! A powerful master, with strength and great wisdom! The Gray Longneck Saint Lord!" Kobold girl Aisijin was so excited that her words came out in a jumble. After pausing as though to organize her thoughts, she continued, "Master wants to see all Kobolds now. All of them. Brother Ruger, let's go welcome the Saint Lord together..."

He looked at the excited Kobold girl, unable to process it for a moment.

His mouth hung slightly open as he sat in silence, frozen in place.

Oh, I see. I'm still not a qualified Kobold. I still haven't truly thought of myself as one.

The difference was not whether he shed fur or grew worms. It was ideological, a fundamental difference in thought patterns.

He only wanted to eat well, sleep well, and improve his frail, weak body. He had no desire to find himself some master. Or rather, even if the tribe had acquired this so-called master, he would not gather to show his face. He would rather remain alone.

But Aisijin clearly did not think that way. She had come to pull him along to see their master. She had run all the way here to share her joy with her friend, the only Kobold she could talk to. She was sincerely happy.

Their Kobold group occupied this place, so their numbers were naturally not small. But by Kobold standards, they were only a small tribe.

More accurately, they were a small tribe that had failed in competition and been driven out, forced to reproduce and survive here.

The legendary powerful Kobold tribes served mighty dragons. Sparks scattered by a dragon's breath could melt stone. Those Kobolds were taller than ordinary Kobolds, with thick and powerful tails. Instead of patchy, thinning fur, their bodies were covered in dragon-like scales.

All of that was in Ruger's mind, as though it had been carved into the minds of every Kobold from birth.

And as exiles eliminated from competition, they did not even have mines to dig.

"Now?" he asked.

His curiosity had always been urging him to take a look.

Aisijin nodded fiercely. She truly looked delighted.

Serving a master meant that, while receiving protection, the Kobolds had to hunt and offer food to their master. That was the most basic requirement.

"What does the Saint Lord look like? It won't eat us in one bite, will it?"

He stroked the fur on his chin and tilted his head at Aisijin, trying to make his friend feel some concern. He believed she possessed a kind of thinking ability different from other Kobolds, only temporarily buried beneath her joy.

The masters served by weak Kobold tribes were generally just smarter, stronger underground beasts. The protection they offered was little more than courage.

They had previously had a Saint Lord. That powerful master had supposedly been stabbed to death by a group of Lizardfolk with short spears during a conflict. Ruger had not witnessed it. He only remembered that it had been called Black Longhair, or perhaps the Blackfang Saint Lord.

"Maybe I should like it like you do, but every time I don't get the chance before there's already a new master," he said.

Aisijin fell into thought upon hearing that.

Ruger simply tilted his head and watched her quietly.

Aisijin suddenly shoved something into his hands, then started walking away in silence. Unlike when she had arrived, she did not run this time. She walked very slowly.

Only after Aisijin's figure had completely merged into the darkness, beyond even a Kobold's ability to see its outline, did he lower his head and look at what he held.

It was a smooth, glossy piece of insect shell, likely a gift Aisijin had prepared for him.

Little incidents were the seasoning of life.

He arranged the insect shell and chose the most suitable, beautiful spot.

The spot happened to be just the right size. After adjusting the angle slightly, it fit perfectly. Simply placing it there made him feel at ease. He set it down carefully, a simple action that felt like accomplishing some great undertaking.

Ruger examined it and raised an eyebrow.

He stared blankly for a moment.

Then, following his usual routine, he continued the bedtime preparations he had repeated countless times and opened the thick book with its black cover, his treasured sleep manual.

One glance after opening it was enough to calm his heart.

Calmer than ever before.

In that instant, he became the center of the world, as though he alone existed in this pitch-black world.

The words and patterns he had seen countless times twisted before his eyes as usual. But this time, they gradually faded away without his noticing until they vanished completely. When he came back to himself, he felt as though he was rising. The distance between him and the pages had not changed, yet it seemed that a strange perspective had emerged from the crown of his head and ascended.

A dim, hidden glow flashed from the book. The sensation of soaring through clouds vanished instantly, and his consciousness crashed back down.

At the same time, he opened his eyes, though he did not know when they had closed.

In the instant before opening his eyes, he saw a serene space with a calm sea.

"The Demonic Mark Meditation Method."

Ruger murmured as his scarred, grimy hand gently brushed over the Black Book's cover.

At last, he could read the words on it.

After that flash of light, he had received some kind of inheritance. It was not merely that he could recognize the writing; in an instant, he could speak and write it as well.

"Cavern World Common Tongue? Wait, it seems... it can't help me sleep anymore. And from now on, I probably won't have time to sleep either..."

He bared his canine teeth in a broad grin, without the slightest regret in his voice. His eyes were wide and round, as though glowing.

He held a small, angular, elongated object in his hand. He had found it together with the Black Book and never known its use, but he had kept it carefully rather than throwing it away.

At this moment, he learned what it was for.

The long object looked like pure white jade and had ten small round dots on it. Each dot represented one standard unit of mental power.

It was a mental power testing tool for Wizard Apprentices. Those who successfully practiced the Demonic Mark Meditation Method from the Black Book could become Wizard Apprentices.

Though he still did not understand what a Wizard Apprentice was.

But he knew this was an opportunity. Following the method in his mind, he gripped one end of the white stone strip tightly and concentrated. The stone emitted a gentle, faint white glow, but not a single dot lit up.

That meant he had not yet reached the mental power standard of a Level-One Wizard Apprentice.

He opened the Black Book and began reading carefully from the first page.

The Mental Power Space was also called the Meditation Space. Those who successfully opened their Meditation Space and saw their Mental Power Sea were already prepared and qualified to practice a meditation method. However, the impact of opening the Meditation Space would leave one exceptionally mentally exhausted. It was not suitable to begin one's first meditation at such a time; one needed to rest for at least a day.

He read it over and over. Based on the book's earlier descriptions of the Meditation Space and Mental Power Sea, combined with his own experience, there was indeed no mistake. He truly met the requirements.

But there was one thing that did not fit: he did not feel tired in the slightest. In fact, he felt incredibly alert.

He could begin practicing the meditation method immediately.