The crude wooden table was fairly level. When the wine bottle touched its surface, it made a delightful sound, and the bald wizard's blood-red eyes immediately lit up.
Watching the other man's lapse in composure, Ruger showed no extra expression. He merely pushed the bottle toward him. The wizards trapped in the canyon were not rare, peculiar drinkers like Lord Zorn. Only in circumstances like these would such cheap liquor from an ordinary tavern be worth a second glance.
Seeing how pleased he was, Ruger did not rush to ask any questions.
Instead, his thoughts drifted to his spells.
A spell's power was sometimes like this bottle of mediocre Sour Mushroom Wine. At the right time and place, it could prove far more valuable than anyone imagined.
When he had first met Barry Danton, he had felt that he had grasped a few ideas, yet some flashes of inspiration had vanished along with his wandering thoughts. Later, while waiting for Mahama to awaken, he had done some thinking alongside practicing spells and reviewing his notes. He had even tried conducting some research on himself.
For example, the patterns on his body in the Demon of Miserliness state. He had always believed the Demon of Miserliness was not so simple. Though this composite spell had ostensibly come from his own hands, it had actually been shaped by many factors. He had provided the foundational spells needed for its birth, as well as himself. His solidified Zero-Ring Spell, Foul-Smelling Skin, had also influenced this composite spell. Those patterns had originally appeared gradually when Foul-Smelling Skin activated and stimulated the Demon Body. Now, they had become part of the Demon of Miserliness.
At the same time, he wanted greater contact with the source power he possessed. The existence of these patterns was a