Why had a powerful high-ranking Wizard ended up like this, afflicted with so many problems?
From what little Ruger had learned, the only explanation he could think of was research into oddities-experiments with artificial oddities.
That was the Cyclops Wizard's specialty.
Trembling, Ruger returned to the previous corridor. Even if the rest of the path remained unchanged, he could not endure it all the way to the end. He, Mahama, and the others could remain in the first stretch for a long time, but they could only stay briefly in the second stretch beyond the turn. The pain muddled their minds and made time seem longer, but that was merely an illusion of the senses.
Was researching artificial oddities really this dangerous?
If he had truly joined that so-called World Child Project, the Cyclops Wizard should already have become a child of the world with the Supreme Council's help. Then where was a child of the world's good fortune? Where was the world's favor?
Ruger sat there, pondering.
Seeing this, Mahama and the others did not disturb him.
Suddenly, Ruger stood and approached the mark that ran along the entire path. This dragging mark led deeper inside, into the areas of greater pain.
He had thought little of it at first, but now that he considered who would travel back and forth along this painful path, repeatedly dragging something, there was only one possible answer.
He was simply curious about what that Wizard had been dragging. In a place where even Mahama's pounding could leave no mark, it had left an obvious trail, scraping a layer off the stone floor wherever it passed.
Ruger swayed his way over to a spot where the mark was clear, sat down right there, and settled himself into a stable position.
Mona had already