Dogs and Their Masters

His eyes narrowed as he stared at the stone.

A humanoid figure flickered into view, then vanished again when he shook his head. Only by concentrating could he see it.

"Kobolds only live for twenty-odd years. You may not understand how long a year is. You only need to know that you are already a teenage kobold. With the time you have left, even a human genius would be far from becoming a Formal Wizard. I can help you, ugly little kobold."

"The Language Comprehension Spell in the Initiation Inheritance should allow you to understand me better."

The voice kept echoing in Ruger's mind, making his senses feel extremely uncomfortable. Even when it spoke words that should have been stirring, he could not sense the slightest emotional fluctuation from the other party.

He ignored what the other party was saying and simply calmed himself, trying to summon the same focus he used during meditation.

A figure in a silver-gray robe, lying on its side, came into view.

A person. A real human.

Not a humanoid kobold monster.

He continued concentrating, and his gaze slowly moved. He saw a smooth chin, a missing arm, and then a head with at least one-third missing. The one remaining eye was opened wide, staring at him without blinking.

If he had been whole, he would probably have been a young man who normally cared greatly about his appearance.

Ruger unconsciously took a step back.

"You're still alive?"

He could not describe how he felt at that moment. Fear mingled with curiosity.

The strange man's arm had vanished from the shoulder onward. It looked as though an exceptionally sharp sword or axe had slashed down diagonally from the top of his head, instantly taking away those vital parts of his body and leaving neat traces behind.

"So you really do understand the Common Tongue now. You truly are different from other kobolds. Stop backing away. Stop wasting our time. Once you leave this place, you will forget everything related to me. Who knows how long it will be before you return next time? There may not even be a next time."

Wearing that terrifying appearance, the strange man continued stuffing his voice into Ruger's mind.

Ruger stopped and watched his mouth. It did not move when he spoke. Then there was that unnatural posture, and that unblinking eye.

This Half-Man might be completely unable to move.

"Have we met before?" Ruger asked casually.

"Be patient, kobold. Once you become a true Wizard Apprentice, you should be able to remember me," Half-Man continued to utter his inferior imitation of an emotional tone without any fluctuation. "Your progress surprises me. You can already look directly at me for such a long time."

Hearing that, Ruger shook his head. Once he stopped forcing himself to concentrate, the figure returned to being only a faint outline.

"Strange little kobold, this is my gift to you, a reward for your progress. There should be something inside that you need."

A small pouch appeared out of thin air and flew in an arc toward Ruger.

He had no choice but to raise a hand and catch it. At the same time, his mind jolted. This little thing could actually react to spiritual power, so it was clearly no ordinary cloth bag.

"I have erased the imprint on it. You can barely use it, but you cannot control it precisely. Each time, you can only pour everything inside out. Once you become a Wizard Apprentice and learn Arcane Imprints, you can brand one onto it. Then it will become an exclusive storage pouch entirely under your control."

"Thank you."

With a sincere expression, Ruger hesitated slightly before bowing to the illusory figure.

He did not dare refuse.

"Your Common Tongue is already quite good. I had thought that even if a kobold understood those characters and words, it would be difficult to immediately change its way of speaking," Half-Man said slowly. "You truly are a unique kobold. This is also a reward for bringing me a little amusement."

Ruger grinned foolishly without speaking. Although he thought every kobold's smile was ugly, what else could he do now besides grin foolishly?

He had deep doubts about whether he had truly met this person last time.

The other party had said there was something he needed in this little pouch.

That meant the other party knew what he wanted.

If everything the other party said was true, then he had given him the Black Book, Ruger had luckily not died, and he had returned here to meet him again. Now he had given him a small storage pouch filled with things. It seemed as though nothing had been said, yet everything had been said. Though there was no legendary contract binding him, Ruger had already seen an invisible chain.

"Ugly little kobold, I hope you can continue to surprise me. Judging from your spiritual power just now, you have already mastered at least three runes. That also surprises me. At your rate of progress, the time you have left is enough to initially master a Zero-Ring Spell and become a Wizard Apprentice."

"Interesting. Perhaps you will become the first kobold wizard in the Cavern World..."

As Half-Man spoke, his figure gradually faded until it was nearly impossible to see.

Ruger lowered his head and maintained a humble posture.

He did not dare, nor did he want, to say too much. He even instinctively did not want to appear overly clever, but neither did he dare act too foolishly. After all, he no longer remembered what had happened last time and did not know whether they had spoken before. Still, he trusted himself. Even if they really had spoken last time, he definitely would not have behaved too outrageously.

Perhaps he should be happy. As a kobold, he truly should be happy.

Thinking of that, he raised his head again and revealed a bald-furred grin with bared teeth.

He had obtained what he wanted, so he truly should be happy. His half-understood path of wizardry could continue onward. In the Initiation Inheritance the Black Book had given him earlier, there were several passages about Formal Wizards. One mentioned that after becoming a Formal Wizard, one's life form would ascend and one's lifespan would greatly increase.

As a kobold, if what Half-Man said was true, then lifespan was an unsolvable deadlock. Becoming a wizard and changing his fate was like an antidote, but the antidote lay ahead where he could not reach it. The fate of a short-lived species was like his thin, weak little arms.

He knew that he would definitely return here again. The invisible chain had already bound him tightly.

Half-Man's figure faded bit by bit until it disappeared from sight, yet he never said what he wanted Ruger to do.

That only made Ruger feel as uncomfortable as if all the fur on his body were falling out. And because of his anxiety and tension, quite a bit of loose fur truly fell from his back. If he shook himself hard twice, it would surely fall in a constant rustling shower.

Holding the little cloth pouch, he tried taking two steps back. This time, no voice came out to stop him.

It seemed he could leave now.

The joy of suddenly acquiring spell knowledge did not make his steps any faster.

He had not expected things to develop this way. Before setting out, he had planned to scavenge for trash. He had thought that whoever lost the Black Book might have lost more than one book, and he had even wanted to widen his search in hopes of finding a book filled with spell knowledge.

On the way back, he remained cautious, identifying the marks at each intersection while keeping an eye on the sounds around him.

After all, he was still a small and powerless little kobold. The greatest weapon in his hand was still that long stick. As for the Black Book Skull-Splitting Method, he did not know whether it would be useful if he encountered an underground beast.

The journey gradually passed its halfway point.

The return trip was much faster than feeling his way forward.

He heard a burst of sobbing. At first, he could hardly believe it, but after listening carefully, it truly was crying.

He immediately stopped and checked whether he had followed the correct route.

That crying definitely had not come from a kobold. He had never heard such crying within the tribe. It sounded more like a human, with a tone like a heartbroken child whose toy had been stolen, though there was something slightly different about it. An indistinct buzzing sound occasionally accompanied it.

He rose onto his toes and slowly retreated to the previous intersection. He was certain he had not taken the wrong path, but now he decided to break his previous resolve and deliberately take a side passage to avoid the sobbing that made the fur on the back of his neck stand on end.

After walking this far, he was confident that he could circle around and return to the proper route, eventually making it back to his little nest.

For the rest of the journey, his mind remained taut. Horror stories he had read before surfaced in his mind, such as crying that followed a person as they moved. Fortunately, none of those things happened.

After hurrying all the way with light steps, he finally returned to his safe nest with an empty stomach.

The kobold girl was waiting there.

"Aisijin?"

After experiencing a series of bizarre events, he was truly delighted to see someone familiar as soon as he returned.

"Brother Ruger, did you go exploring again? It's dangerous. If you get lost, you'll starve to death..."

Aisijin clearly still remembered what he had told her before.

"Look, I brought bug meat this time. I hurried back so quickly that I did not even have time to eat the last piece."

He showed the kobold girl a small piece of bug meat.

Listening to Aisijin speak that clumsy, unpleasant Kobold Tongue, he suddenly wanted to master the spell that could let someone instantly learn Cavern Common Tongue.

Of course, even if he truly knew such a spell, he would only use it on Aisijin. He had no desire to change the other kobolds.

Though kobolds had the word "dog" in their name, they had no fluffy, beautiful fur and were absolutely unrelated to cuteness.

They were irritable yet cowardly, gathered in groups yet lacking unity.

One moment, they could pounce like mad dogs. The next, they could scatter in terror.

These kobold creatures were generally short, and most liked to hunch over. Their wrinkled skin, sparse fur, and protruding mouths made them look like little old men who might leap up and bite someone, or bald-furred giant rats with dog faces.

If they had any advantages at all, it was probably that they could endure hunger and barely see in the dark.

The kobold girl seemed stronger than before. The tribe's food had probably been quite good recently. Perhaps the Gray Longneck Lord had not exploited the kobolds too harshly.

"Has the Gray Longneck Lord forbidden the catching of those bugs?" he suddenly remembered and asked casually.

"There is no Gray Longneck Saint Lord anymore. We now follow the Blackclaw Lord. It has beautiful long black fur, is stronger, wiser, and has big, powerful claws..." Aisijin said.

They changed masters so quickly this time, he thought.

Every change of master could be considered a minor or major crisis for kobolds.

At least, that was how he saw it.

Serving—or rather, following—a new master and learning the master's habits would inevitably come at a considerable cost.

Moreover, a change of master meant the tribe had just suffered a cruel defeat. Along with the death of the old master came the deaths of many tribesmen. Every step of changing masters was soaked in kobold blood.

But kobolds thought very differently.

Some kobolds even believed that the heavier the casualties, the more it proved they were welcoming an even stronger master.

Of course, the universally acknowledged best kind of master was one who was powerful but liked to sleep for long periods. The kobolds only needed to prepare enough food before each time their master awoke.

If their luck was bad and they encountered a foolish, gluttonous, and brutal master,

then the kobold tribe would quickly be drained dry. In the past, when hunts went poorly, injured kobolds and small, useless kobolds like him would all be gathered together and offered directly to the master as its next meal.

But now that meat bugs covered the ground, things would naturally change.