Space and Fragments

Ruger swore in his heart to that intangible spiritual light that often looked after him: this tone that sounded as though someone were about to die absolutely belonged to the Half-Man, and it was also the kind of communication achieved through mental techniques. It was a distinctive cadence one would never forget after hearing it once. No matter how the wording and sentences collided and combined, it would ultimately become a stiff, emotionless recitation.

Ruger slowly turned his head.

That voice was still speaking. Ruger focused on sensing it, but unfortunately, it was not actual vocal speech, so he could not determine its direction by sound. He lifted his foot and began strolling through the corner of the great cavern that had once been Gray Longneck Saint Lord's snake nest, tightly gripping the strange spatial fragment in his hand.

Suddenly, the voice stopped speaking.

Ruger stopped as well. He closed his eyes and pressed the dazzlingly multicolored fragment against his forehead.

When he opened his eyes again, he looked directly at the spot beneath his feet where he stood.

"Oh? That works too..." The voice appeared again.

Ruger bent down and began clearing away several large bones at his feet.

Until one eye stared straight into his own.

"What state is he in now?"

The unblinking single eye staring at him abruptly asked a question.

He looked at the sight before him, recalling the Half-Man's instructions.

He roughly understood what the question meant, yet did not quite know how to answer. After thinking for a moment, he said, "He... can already sit up."

Did that count as an answer? But it was probably what the other party wanted to know, he thought.

Then he lifted that half of a skull in both hands.

After hearing his answer, the other party remained silent. He felt that if the eyelid could move, it surely would have closed its eye already. It had the air of someone who had resigned himself to fate.

"You... are you still alive?" Unable to get an answer from the Half-Man, he intended to fish for one here.

"Of course."

After waiting for quite some time, the half-head finally spat out a sentence.

As Ruger walked back toward the Half-Man, he continued looking for an opening, but the other party no longer responded. He could only sensibly shut his mouth.

Seeing that he could get nothing more out of it, he quickened his pace.

He did not dare say too much nonsense. Fishing around the edges was already his limit. He had considered that this head, for reasons unknown, might go back and tattle on him, and wouldn't that be awkward then?

His short little legs ran until they practically smoked; curiosity was his greatest motivation.

Moreover, he discovered that the more intensely he exercised, the better the potion he had drunk worked. Even some scars he had left from before had vanished.

When he reached the crossroads, he did not need to wait this time; the Half-Man had already appeared.

Without a word, the half-head floated over, and a brand-new handsome man was assembled right before him.

"Clever kobold, you have done well."

A moment after attaching the head, the Half-Man communicated through mental power again.

Ruger blinked. The Half-Man's head no longer showed the slightest abnormality, though his body still flickered in and out as if he might disappear at any moment. There was one more thing: perhaps he could no longer be called Half-Man in the future.

Crack! That half of the head was snapped off again.

The kobold opened his mouth, then solemnly closed it again.

There had to be a good reason for the other party to do this. As someone with little experience, all he needed to do was watch. Just as he was thinking this, the half-head swayed over and floated into his hands. This time, however, its eye was already closed.

"Next, let us attempt to complete this peculiar gift. This spatial fragment has already developed a certain affinity with you. We can treat it as a seed, and I will help you smooth out its tremors," the Half-Man said.

Ruger felt the dazzlingly multicolored spatial fragment in his hand suddenly tremble, and he instinctively clenched it tight.

As he exerted force, the fragment grew smaller and smaller. In the blink of an eye, it burrowed into his palm and vanished.

He could feel a tiny multicolored point of light connected to his mental space.

"Very good."

Even the Half-Man seemed not to have expected things to go so smoothly.

Ruger tried to examine the little thing connected to his mental power. Without realizing it, he closed his eyes and entered a meditative state. After several attempts to touch it, understanding suddenly dawned on him. It seemed to be an independent little space. With a thought, when he opened his eyes again, the long staff in his hand had disappeared. Through his mental perception, he found that it had appeared within that space.

It seems I won't need storage bags anymore, he thought.

The Half-Man watched all of this intently.

"Now, you may cast your Demon Dice. Within the dice's space, I believe you know what to do," the Half-Man said.

Ruger felt somewhat uneasy.

"There won't be a problem, right?" he asked.

"That space is currently in an exceedingly special state. It is not merely for use as a storage bag. You can try doing something more useful with it; perhaps there will be an additional surprise. Just like you, this world needs surprises."

The Half-Man still spoke in the same tone, but his words seemed to carry more of a human feeling than before. Ruger did not know whether it was merely his imagination.

Since matters had reached this point, he gritted his teeth and decided to try.

He took out the Demon Dice. With a thought, the Demon Dice appeared in that space, but nothing changed.

"Not put away," the Half-Man abruptly stopped him. "Do not store it in that space as though it were a storage bag. Throw it in from here."

Ruger nodded in a daze and tried again.

Holding the die in his hand, he gently tossed it forward. At the same time, he instinctively connected with that space, and a tiny, kaleidoscopic opening appeared before him like a door—only so small that even mice traveling together would have to line up to pass through.

As the die entered, the little spatial doorway closed in an instant.

Without waiting for instructions, Ruger sensed the state of the space. Closing his eyes merely helped him concentrate.

Inside the space, the die rolled about before finally coming to rest on the face marked one. Unfortunately, there was no target here for it to bestow blindness upon.

"It's blindness," Ruger said as he came back to himself.

"Good. Keep going until you roll the face that brings a demon to trade."

Following Half-Man's instructions, Ruger continued throwing the die. Nothing happened the first time, and he gradually became bolder.

Whether he should have been delighted or terrified, he did not know, but on the third throw he rolled the five that represented trade. This proved that Half-Man's earlier claim—that the die rarely brought misfortune in its first few throws—was utter nonsense. Of course, there was no way to refute it, since Half-Man had said rarely, not never.

The die had landed on the long-awaited face, yet the trading demon of legend failed to appear for a long while.

The wondrous space linked to Ruger began to tremble as a whole, gradually developing clear up, down, left, and right. Shaken by the tremors, the die began spinning continuously in midair. He felt that this space had once been like a tangled mess of thread, like a knotted ball of silk wound together—possessing the concept of space and decent capacity, yet unable to hold much. Now, amid the trembling, it was gradually being combed apart, countless irregular branches stretched open and smoothed straight.

Gradually, a proper room-sized area took shape. The space continued expanding, and at the same time, a conspicuous dark-red fissure appeared in a corner along one side of the room.

The space rumbled and shook for a long time, only stopping once it had expanded to the size of a small village.

"You've sensed it already, haven't you? A fissure leading to the Abyss should have been born within that space of yours. It is a doorway, and also part of the gift. The casting material for your Demon Skin Spell comes from the backside of a barbarian demon. As long as you cast Demon Skin Spell, you can easily disguise yourself as an imp and go exploring. And then there's the Foul-Smelling Skin you are most proficient in. Everything is the best possible combination," Half-Man said.