Strictly speaking, Lord Mahama, the central figure of this trip to the Abyss, had gained nothing so far. All he had done was let one demon after another ride him. In terms of gains alone, he had fared worse than Ruger, who was merely accompanying him. If Ruger gained anything from the Spirit Furs Black Knight as well, the gap would grow even wider.
Ruger glanced at the distant mire of flesh and blood, then shifted his feet slightly to adjust his angle and lowered his head to study the traces of writing left on the ground.
Mahama's heavy breathing gradually steadied as well.
Ruger listened to the movements of the two fellows beside him. Though he did not look up, he still knew what they were doing. The two-headed demon seemed to be wavering.
As he examined the writing, he marveled inwardly at Mahama. This fellow was not a true bloodline Wizard, but a Wizard Apprentice who had modified his body to make it remarkably powerful. The adjustments to his physique complemented the spells he favored. Perhaps this was one of the great benefits of having a teacher's guidance: he could confidently do things other Wizard Apprentices would neither attempt nor be capable of, laying a solid foundation so that his teacher's path could shine even more brilliantly through him.
Of course, a teacher's path and a student's would inevitably differ in some ways. Some old Wizards tested their ideas and devised new paths, with their apprentices serving as both practitioners and experimental subjects. Other old Wizards, truly intent on passing down their legacy, refined and altered their own paths to smooth over the regrets of their youth before choosing suitable disciples to teach. Thus, whatever sort of teacher they were, the knowledge they imparted and the paths they