Ruger thought for a moment. That teacher had likely believed Mahama would head into the Abyss alone. In this wondrous realm of subsidence, the lower-lying areas were lands of the weak, inhabited by nothing but feeble demons. Anchoring there would give Mahama time to adapt.
As Ruger pondered, he fiddled with the Grey Bullet Spell in his hand. The five condensed grey bullets occasionally twisted with his fingers and merged into one.
Studying this little spell that no one would recognize from time to time along the way was his only pastime besides observing his own state as the Demon of Miserliness.
Mahama was about to say something more.
Ruger suddenly stopped what he was doing, swung himself onto Mahama's back, and settled securely on one of his shoulders.
Mahama immediately shut his mouth as well.
This was something they had discussed before setting out. Demons were as strange and wonderful as humans; there might be pure friendship between demons, but it was exceedingly rare—rarer even than encountering a demon that could tell human jokes. So they had agreed that in certain situations, Mahama, this mutant barbarian demon who did not resemble a barbarian demon at all, would be Ruger's tamed mount. In the demon world, strength reigned supreme. No one would question it.
Since yesterday, Ruger had gradually sensed something different. They seemed to have entered that lord's territory.
This was also something that excited Ruger. Though he had no so-called true demon name, he could truly sense a lord's aura slightly, just like a demon.
A burst of wingbeats sounded.
An enormous black Monster Bird descended.
Mount Mahama stopped walking, and the rider on his shoulder naturally stopped as well. The rider turned his head to look at the massive Monster Bird demon.
The Monster Bird cocked its