Ruger rubbed his growling stomach and looked up with satisfaction at the still-warm Demon blood in the bottle. This was not the common standard potion vial usually used for fighter potions, but a much larger one. Filled to the brim, it looked like a great lump of gorgeous blood-red gemstone.
For a moment, he was caught in a dilemma. He wanted to crawl back into the experimental corner and, for instance, screen this blood first, but he also wanted to fiercely soothe his rumbling stomach. Yet he felt that eating too much would trigger a whole series of disasters. He was still very confident in the extent of his post-meal laziness. Then he remembered that he had promised Aisijin and Big Silly Hum he would taste their new dishes. Keeping one's word ought to come first.
Ruger put away the large bottle of Demon blood, prepared to face his post-meal laziness head-on.
He was going to be a diligent kobold. Perhaps kobolds were lazy, or perhaps the dragon blood in his dragonborn heritage was affecting him, but wizards were diligent—one could even say they were the most diligent, tireless group in this world.
Sometimes, he truly admired those wizards. There were all kinds of wizards in this world, strange and bizarre in every conceivable way. There might be lazy ones too, but they were exceedingly rare. It was a very unusual phenomenon. At the moment of transformation, wizards should have entered the ranks of long-lived species, yet long-lived species that kept up a frantic pace every day were rare in this world—let alone such a large group, from wizard apprentices to high-ranking wizards who had to be looked up to.
They seemed to have endless things to do. Wizards were each independent, yet they also seemed like a single whole,