The King and the Sorcerer

It was probably the commotion from the Red Horn Tribe's kobolds fighting the great snake earlier that had drawn the kobolds' attention.

They had merely waited until the dust settled before daring to sneak over and investigate.

But when they went to look, the Gray Longneck Saint Lord had already vanished without a trace.

So the question was, why had it disappeared? Had it run off on its own? But why would it run? Ruger could not puzzle it out no matter how hard he thought. In the end, he could only reluctantly blame it on the Red Horn Tribe's kobolds. Perhaps the great snake had been frightened off by that warrior of the Red Horn Tribe, or perhaps what it truly feared was the Red Horn Tribe's kobold king, who had yet to show himself.

A suitable destination for a bald kobold instantly surfaced in Ruger's mind.

"Bald... big guy, do you have a name?" he asked.

The bald kobold looked utterly bewildered. Apparently startled by Ruger's enthusiasm, he hastily shook his head in cooperation.

Most kobolds went their entire lives without names, nor did they need them. Even someone like Big Silly Hum, who had a nickname, was already in a fairly good situation. At least it meant he had left some trace, possessed some distinguishing trait within the tribe, rather than being one of the countless kobolds who all seemed to look alike and never returned after going out with the tribe's hunting party even once.

The more personable Aisijin had only gained a proper name because of Old Gold Tooth.

In Old Gold Tooth's words, Aisijin was the name of a bitter dark elf dessert, forcibly twisted into kobold speech with inaccurate pronunciation.

"Bald Tooth, you are our new king! The King of the Hairless! From now on, remember this—you are our Hairless Saint Lord!"

With the Strength of the Savage Bull bolstering him, he vigorously patted the bald kobold's shoulder, making the blank-faced fellow, who was propping himself up on one elbow, sway so hard he nearly flopped back down again.

At Ruger's signal, Aisijin reluctantly brought over a grass skirt and a long stick.

"These are the symbols of your kingship: the king's scepter, the king's holy robes. Take them now, go conquer the kobolds here! Let them witness your strength!"

As he spoke, he stuffed the items into the bald kobold's arms, grabbed one of his arms, and forcibly hauled him upright.

The kobold now named Bald Tooth found his mind unable to keep up for a moment.

"I... I'm not as strong as you. The king's command—"

"That's right! Of course you haven't forgotten the king's command! The kobold king of the Red Horn Tribe is still waiting for you," Ruger said solemnly. "If you want the king to stop thinking you're stupid, then listen to me. Become the king here. Protect this place, protect the kobolds of this little tribe. Only by trying to become a little king yourself can you truly help the kobold king, truly make him stop being disappointed in you. Prove that you can protect us, and then we'll consider going with you too! The king will definitely be happy. The king will definitely praise you!"

A mystic mark quietly settled onto Bald Tooth's arm, gradually fading until it became invisible.

Ruger had even considered making some sort of spell contract, but unfortunately, he did not know how. Ka Liu's diary had not contained any specific knowledge about spell contracts either, so he could only leave behind a mystic mark for now. It would serve as a marker, allowing him to sense Bald Tooth's approximate location when nearby.

With Big Silly Hum's help, Bald Tooth shook off the last bits of ice, gathered some longer fur around his waist, then tied on the grass skirt.

A kobold without fur somehow looked even uglier.

But Bald Tooth was strong enough that the absence of fur instead highlighted a vicious, powerful air about him, taking ugliness to a whole new height.

Before long, the kobolds' cries of astonishment rose one after another.

The tribe's main settlement was indeed here, but there were several smaller ones elsewhere as well. Big Silly Hum was currently staying at Bald Tooth's side, responsible for guiding the new king. Big Silly Hum had once again been appointed the king's guard, officially returning to his old profession. This time, however, the one making the appointment was Ruger, and the newly born king would not object.

Ruger also told Bald Tooth that whenever he encountered something he did not understand or found difficult to decide, he should come here and seek Old Gold Tooth's advice. Finally, he told him not to bother Old Gold Tooth lightly; if anything truly came up, Aisijin knew where to find him.

As the kobolds witnessed the rise of a new king unlike any they had ever seen or imagined, Ruger finally came alone to the place he had been yearning for.

The largest cave here, known to every kobold in the tribe—the sacred ground belonging to their master, a place kobolds could not casually set foot in.

The astonishingly enormous cave could be called the palace of every generation's Saint Lord.

In Ruger's eyes, it was also every generation of masters' dining hall, bedroom, garbage dump, or whatever else it might be.

The one they attached themselves to was sometimes a powerful but not particularly intelligent underground beast. Thus, this great cave belonging to the Saint Lords of generations past was littered everywhere with bones of all sizes left behind after meals, piled like little mountains.

Who knew how many years this group of kobolds had occupied this place? After all those years of accumulation, most areas of the great cave had become nearly impossible to walk through.

Each generation's Saint Lord had its own preferences. Some merely ate until full, slept, then ate again upon waking.

Others liked collecting—gathering all kinds of strange and bizarre things. Whenever kobolds encountered such a master, they too would rack their brains to offer up every sort of item they had picked up.

Crack!

As though enjoying a sightseeing tour all by himself, he occasionally crushed a brittle fragment of bone beneath his feet, walking as he craned his head to look around.

"Did it really leave?"

After circling through more than half the cave, he came to a pile of shattered bones. Judging from the traces left here and the Gray Longneck Saint Lord's size, it had likely rested here curled up. Searching carefully, he could still see several grayish-white scales in the gaps between the bone piles.

"What's this?"

He used both hands to forcefully pull aside the nearby bones.

An egg!

Had it come here just to lay an egg?

The egg was the size of a human head. For the Gray Longneck Saint Lord's enormous body, was that not far too small?

Finding an egg instead of the black fruit was not bad either.

He lifted the egg in both hands. It was icy cold to the touch, and the instant he held it, he sensed that it was a dead egg. His spiritual power spread out, yet he could not feel the slightest trace of life within.

Just as disappointment welled up in him, something stirred at his waist.

After what had happened with the female elf last time, he had tucked his storage pouch and nurturing pouch into the leather seams of his shorts to conceal them.

"Do you want to eat it?"

He brought the dead egg to the mouth of the nurturing pouch.

"But you're an egg yourself. It's even bigger than you, and you won't hatch—how are you supposed to eat it?" He gave the breeding pouch in his hand a shake.

An anxious emotion immediately came from inside the pouch, faint mental ripples continuously leaking out through its slightly open mouth.

Unable to withstand the little insect egg's fussing, he treated it as an ordinary feeding. With a thought, his mental power linked to the breeding pouch, and the dead egg was successfully taken into it. The little insect egg instantly quieted down as well.

It won't crush it to death, will it? he thought.

The breeding pouch gave a slight shake, seeming to guess what he was thinking as it reassured him that all was well.

He took another brief stroll around.

The surroundings were a mess, and he truly found nothing good. He decided not to waste any more time and handed this task over to Big Silly Hum and Aisijin.

He then returned to his own large three-way bedroom and continued studying the adorable Demon Skin Spell. As he left, he happened to hear cheers erupt behind him. It seemed the kobolds of the tribe were surrounding their new king, entering the sacred cave through the passage on the other side to celebrate.

Leaning against the spot he had grown used to, he held the book in his hands with no distractions in his heart. The pages of Demon Skin Spell flipped faster and faster beneath his fingers, yet only his hands moved. His eyes no longer blinked, the rise and fall of his breathing were barely perceptible, and the angle of his elbows and curve of his neck made it seem as though his entire body had frozen, poised to plunge into the book.