The Unknown and the Known

As those bizarre, fantastical scenes began to fade away one by one, Ruger still did not even know what his name was. It seemed no one in any of those scenes had called his name. Perhaps the focus of memories differed across eras and circumstances. Until, in the final fleeting scene from his childhood, he vaguely heard a gentle female voice softly call him Hayat. Then it all came to an end. Most of the fragments had been lost, or perhaps they had never existed because they were not the focus of the memories.

Ruger decided that when he passed by that place again on his return journey, he would leave a name before the grave for that ill-tempered benefactor.

After seeing all this, he had even more questions.

Was the final sentence of that biographical novel true? Or was it merely the drunken fancy of a biographer? Thinking carefully, among the scattered, disjointed memory scenes of the man who might have been called Hayat, there truly had not been a single image that obviously belonged to the world aboveground. There had not been one scene of clear skies stretching for thousands of miles in his entire life.

Only wizards could walk upon the surface—

What did that mean? Taken simply at face value, did it mean these wizard apprentices had not come to the underground world to explore or to complete some superior's mission, but instead huddled here like little kobolds? Living all along in this endless darkness?

These fifth-level wizard apprentices, people whose spiritual power had already reached its limit—were they not from aboveground?

Was the road really that hard to travel?

At this moment, he realized that his ignorance of magical knowledge might not amount to much. The cavern world might have even greater surprises in store for him.

He ate some of the meat worms from his storage pouch, freeing up space to put several books and magic stones inside.

Then he picked through a pile of things. Most would still have to be thrown away in the end; he could neither use them nor carry them, and he had to leave some empty space for the next benefactor.

Thinking of the senior benefactor waiting to be buried next, he thought of that shattered pale-gray translucent crystal.

He did not know whether every wizard apprentice would leave behind such a thing after death. He felt it was probably that person's special case, but there was no need to strain himself guessing. Once he reached the next inheritance site, the answer would be revealed.

After that unknown thing had been completely used up, he felt that even his spiritual power had grown. The increase was not great, of course, and was still far from enough to break through to a second-level wizard apprentice. Out here in the wilderness, he would not conduct exhaustion-level meditation training or spell tests.

He took out the Lightness Spell, looked it over, and decided to rest a while longer.

After all, he had been interrupted last time and had not rested at all.

"This time, I'm counting on you. You keep watch. I can tell you're quite clever—a clever little bug!"

Half reclining against the stone wall, he patted the breeding pouch at his waist. The little bug still within its eggshell swayed slightly in response to his pat, as though it truly understood.

"Work hard. You're not little anymore—you can start worrying about this family. Don't you like eating that egg? Next time, I'll catch that whole big snake for you to eat."

The breeding pouch shook violently.

He smiled, turned slightly to the side, hugged his handy long staff, and slowly fell asleep.

This time, he did not dream, nor was he disturbed in any way.

The fatigue accumulated over the past several days had become an invisible pillow. No matter how he lay down or rolled about, he could sleep soundly.

When he woke, he first ate a bottle of shaved ice, then paired it with half of a treasured cooked meat worm.

It laid a good mood beneath his new journey.

His other target was also in this small-cave region.

Carrying his long staff over his shoulder, he set off once more.

The man from before had said he knew something about the city the little insect folk were heading to. Ruger still cared deeply about that. So many strange wizard apprentices had gathered in the area where he lived. Unfortunately, he had found no clues while reading those memory fragments. Perhaps they had been lost, or perhaps that man had been lying.

In his view, the little crybaby insect person should already have entered that city. These people would all have made the trip for nothing and return empty-handed.

Traveling through the small-cave region was far more relaxing than traveling in open spaces. Though the small-cave region also had enormous caverns comparable to a whole building, it still could not compare to the sense of danger lurking everywhere in the wilderness outside, which seemed like an independent little world.

He had checked the crystal clock when he set out. He had walked for about a day; in at most another half day, he would reach the final stop of this journey.

Over the past day or so, he had once again traveled continuously with spells, without rest or sleep.

The joy of being about to see the inheritance made his steps light.

"A wizard apprentice from Black Calamity Tower?"

Ruger rounded a bend and saw three people sitting there resting. At the same time, a smiling voice reached him.

For a moment, he stood there at a loss.

He steadied himself and quietly observed the three. One of the sturdy figures seemed vaguely familiar, perhaps one of the people who had chased the giant snake that day. The other two were young men of ordinary build; one of them was the one who had taken the initiative to speak to Ruger.

"Come rest, little one. No need to be nervous," the man said again.

Ruger wore a hood, and nearly his entire face was shrouded in shadow. But a kobold's mouth could not be perfectly concealed. Even in the dim light, a careful look would still reveal some clues.

"A low-level apprentice is too dangerous alone. You can follow us," the friendly man said.

Boom! The silent man beside him lifted a hand and conjured a heap of blazing campfires, the noise nearly drowning out the friendly man's words.

Ruger hesitated. He first nodded to thank the friendly man, then braced himself and walked toward the temporary camp formed by the fires.

The tall, burly man glanced at him and suddenly spoke. "Leave this place. Go back to Black Calamity Tower. That is what you should be doing."

"Baangte, there's no need to be so harsh," the friendly man said with a smile.

The burly man, Baangte, showed no mercy. "A low-level apprentice coming here is only throwing his life away. You just want him to scout the path for you. And you, sitting there silently approving—you're just as disgusting as him."

The man who had not spoken all this time, who had not even raised his head as he fiddled with the campfire, suddenly spoke in a slow, unhurried voice. "He might have it even worse if he goes back. Dangerous missions are opportunities for people like them. From the look of him, he probably crawled out of the test subjects. Some apprentices in Black Calamity Tower are like that, though none as thorough as him—altered until they no longer resemble anything."

"A kobold?" The friendly man looked equally astonished. "He's actually a kobold. Your mentor is truly insane."

But the burly Baangte ignored the subject.

"Those big bugs should all be dead by now, right? Maybe we don't need to gather together after all," he said.

"Sure."

"Hey, I wanted this little guy to join us too, and you're disbanding?"

The man who had been fiddling with the campfire without a word stepped forward. He walked into the flames and vanished.

The enthusiastic man looked around, seemingly unwilling to be alone with Baangte, then turned and left as well. With every step, his figure seemed to flicker through the darkness.

For a moment, only Ruger, the brawny Baangte, and the campfire between them remained.

"Come sit," Baangte said.