The dying campfire occasionally crackled.
Ruger stared at the fire, sorting through his thoughts. He had stayed in that place of utter darkness for too long—so long that he had nearly forgotten what he had been thinking before he saw that tree hollow. At this moment, he was also glad that he had spent most of his time in that dark place meditating; otherwise, it would surely have felt even longer.
He scratched his chin. Thinking back, when he had sat here and calmed himself, he had been considering the Dragon-Subduer Ascension Ritual. Then he noticed Layden's abnormal behavior, as well as the person curled up there, and his train of thought had been interrupted.
He had actually been thinking about this matter back in that library—or rather, everyone with dragon blood instinctively thought about how to avoid this trouble.
What a marvelous feeling, he thought.
When he had sprung out from this spot, the footprint left by his kicking foot was still clearly visible.
The imbalance of time.
He wondered whether there were powerful wizards capable of touching the domain of time. If so, just what extent could they reach? To him, such a thing was an extremely forbidden field. Delving too deeply into it could be quite dangerous.
As Ruger let his thoughts run wild, the warmth on his shoulder suddenly began to turn scorching.
His vision began to blur as well.
He knew he was entering the town.
As long as that mysterious old crone wizard had not achieved her unreliable objective, he and Layden, two insignificant wizard apprentices, would never know peace.
Still, he could reunite with Lord Layden, Ruger thought.
He still did not give up on the campfire. At last, he poked it twice in imitation of Layden, then vanished from the campsite.
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