Before leaving the Abyss Bedroom space, Ruger had already adjusted his condition. He had plenty of temporary spell slots, so when an unknown figure wrapped in a fragrance pounced at him, he did not hesitate to cast Demon Body. It was not only to fend off the incoming figure, but also that unfamiliar scent. The effects of Demon Body, coupled with his dragonborn bloodline, would grant him a certain resistance to some common poisons.
Ruger's form gradually changed. He kicked off the ground and rolled on the spot, not even having time to gather up his robe.
The pouncing figure was extraordinarily nimble and followed close behind.
He instantly used the Miserly Spell in his last temporary spell slot, striking the lunging figure head-on and buying Ruger a sliver of breathing room.
For a time, the not-so-spacious corridor became a place for desperate dodging and weaving.
He wanted to roll to his feet and rush into his room, but from his current position, that was clearly no longer a good choice.
Ruger pushed off with his feet. The nightmare wings behind his back flashed into existence and vanished again, making him a fraction faster. The hall, normally only a few steps away, seemed incomparably distant.
He abruptly turned and swung his arm, the remnants of Lesser Sharpness flickering at his fingertips.
But the figure lunging at him seemed utterly fearless.
Ruger suddenly felt his body go rigid.
The pouncing figure paused for a moment, yet still crashed into his arms.
The three blades floating in midair followed close behind the lunging figure, arriving before Ruger as well.
Ruger tried to move his eyes. At that moment, he suddenly found the scene somewhat familiar—especially his current horned, savage appearance, which reminded him of the little demon on the experiment table. He