Perhaps it was Wizard Zorn's perpetual slovenliness, his habitual disregard for trifles—dancing arm in arm with women by the roadside, drinking shoulder to shoulder with drunkards—that had kept Ruger from ever considering that possibility. Clearly, Mahama had been the same.
At first, they had merely thought Zorn was lazy and unreliable. Mahama especially had often voiced his disappointment back then. Yet after spending a long time with him, Zorn had gradually become someone dependable and serious in their eyes, someone who was usually prepared well in advance whenever trouble arose. Of course, his laziness was indeed real. But Demon Hunter Wizards could not focus solely on hunting demons; study and experimentation would always come first, and the major organizations under the Supreme Council would not be overly harsh about it.
Ruger tilted his head and thought for a moment. Perhaps only Zorn's laziness when it came to demon hunting somewhat matched the image of someone bearing guilt and forced to become a Demon Hunter Wizard.
"Do you still remember the places you once passed through? Those cities along your journey, every Cavern Domain you visited—"
A smile curled the female wizard's lips as she let her long red hair dance lightly beside her ears.
Zorn merely lowered his head and ate, chewing carefully. From time to time, he tore off a small piece and fed it to the little creature on his shoulder.
Rather than becoming discouraged, the female wizard's smile deepened.
"Many demons are locked inside your body. But can you lock up yourself? How long has it been since you last got angry? Hmm?
"There should be a clause like this in your contract with the Holy Tribunal, shouldn't there?"
Smiling, the female wizard leaned forward, her elbows resting on the tabletop. Even so, an entire table still