The Golden Key felt less lively to Ruger than the Demon Dice. Sometimes, the Demon Dice even gave him the impression that it was alive. Ruger suspected that, when it had no owner, it might actively lure someone into becoming its new master.
The key, however, was as silent as the paintings along the Corridor. A Wizard Apprentice with weak spirituality might not even think it was useful, much less expect it to actively tempt anyone. That raised another issue: if he had not known the Divine Object Art, Ruger believed even a powerful Wizard might need considerable effort to work out how to bind it through a contract. Something like the Demon Dice, on the other hand, might guide even a drunk without supernatural powers by the roadside in Grotto City through its binding ritual.
The Demon Dice's binding ritual required kissing each of its six faces in turn.
Yet this seemingly quiet, well-behaved Golden Key was nowhere near as gentle. Its binding ritual was far bloodier than that of the Demon Dice.
The Demon Dice started out gentle, with bloodshed coming later. The Golden Key was precisely the opposite.
Ruger rubbed his chin, deep in thought.
Perhaps because it had been born inside a radish, this was a key that could grow. But "grow" was not quite the right word. It had to be planted-cultivated.
The Spirit World, spirituality, Spiritual Light-the guidance of Spiritual Light that Wizards trusted and cherished. In Ruger's original imaginings, he had unconsciously assumed it would be a vibrant place. Yet the small corner he had glimpsed through this brief encounter felt somewhat different. The well, this arranged space, those lifeless paintings, the Golden Key, and the rabbit who could not lie-everything connected to the Spirit World seemed to possess a strange combination of