The bubbling of the soup pot set them moving around the dining table again. So-called regrets were merely scenery along a wizard's path, though compared to other sights, they left clearer marks.
Ruger stuffed an unfamiliar fruit into his mouth. Its fiery taste filled his mouth, and he picked up a piece of steak.
As a wizard, one had to learn to bravely contend with regrets, and also learn to befriend them.
Ruger drank the rich soup and wolfed down the flatbread. He had long since grown accustomed to being friends with regret.
In fact, they were very close friends. Even before he had encountered wizardry, they had shared a deep friendship. If he had to choose his best friend from that time, only Aisijin, who brought him foul-smelling roasted meat while he starved, could defeat it. Regret was often accompanied by pain, and in some way, the food Aisijin brought had helped him fight that pain, both physical and emotional.
Mahama, whose apprenticeship had lasted long enough, was naturally no exception. Though he had plenty of regrets—and was even the subject of this particular regret—those regrets still could not compare with warm flatbread and a huge bowl of thick soup.
After enjoying a nearly perfect meal, they stopped dwelling on the matter and each began, in their own way, squeezing the last value this peculiar path could offer them.
Ruger silently refined his vision, turning it from an idea into a more concrete plan, into something feasible.
At the same time, he sensed the changes in his body.
He wondered whether his Dragonkin bloodline might also undergo some changes under this inexplicable stimulation reaching deep into life itself.
Ruger began working with the Monster Wolf, eating those chains, taking turns throwing a few Grey Bullet Spells at his own