Ruger lay leisurely in the old recliner, his hands tucked beneath his head.
All his worries and confusion, along with those earth-shaking noises, seemed to have been shut out by the thin spatial barrier. Here, there was an old but comfortable recliner, friends who cared about him, a soundly sleeping familiar, noisy and lively Fuzzies worshippers, and some pretty good food.
Ruger looked around. Thinking it over, he felt as though he were already in a beautiful paradise apart from the world.
Yet his heart remained on edge, unable to truly enjoy this peace.
He simply closed his eyes and began to meditate.
Having some time to cultivate quietly in peace isn't bad either, Ruger thought.
He came before the Silence Magic Seal. Watching the slowly rotating seal and the five demonic marks tugging against it, he steadied his mind and began constructing runes over and over. The runes drifted toward the seal and merged into it, lending greater force to its rotation, like an eternal black millstone.
Ruger meditated silently, his mental power steadily consumed as rune after rune came into being.
Only when weariness crept over him did he stop this meditation exercise, so unhurried that he seemed to forget himself, so familiar that it had become instinctive.
Ruger opened his eyes and rubbed his chin.
He could already distinctly sense that boundary, that so-called limit of mental power.
It was a very interesting thing, and a sensation that had grown increasingly clear of late.
At the same time, however, Ruger could also feel that whenever he put everything into his meditation exercises, his mental power did indeed increase a little.
According to Mahama and the others, this sense of growth after reaching the limit would become less and less noticeable, until it was difficult to detect any