As the words fell, Fendim's Flaming Centipede instantly dimmed, almost showing signs of shattering. Ruger's hand slowed hesitantly as he brought down the Weighty Book. Experiencing this sensation for the second time inevitably reminded him of his current Demon of Miserliness state. His opponent's method was clearly something akin to the Miserly Spell, yet entirely different. Like the earlier interference with the flames that had made his mental power space feel scorching hot, it was power operating on another level, contained within those very words.
"This really is unsightly. Forget it. If we keep going, I might actually hurt you. Of course, you might hurt me instead," the mouths in the giant's wounds said, each chiming in. "Are you really planning to stand there and watch forever?"
Mahama shrugged at that and waded back to shore.
"Sir Ruger, he was joking with you. He wasn't looking for a Demon Wizard's disciple. He probably sensed the badge on you and used a little verbal trick to lure you into attacking. He is a Three-Ring Wizard, after all. His mental power is still very strong." As Mahama walked, he gradually shrank back to the size of an ordinary person.
"A friend of yours?" Ruger asked.
"Just a strange fellow walking a strange path. Someone great hopes were placed in before me, but who also made my teacher so furious he nearly slapped him to death," Mahama said in a muffled voice. "As for why he was passing through here, you saw it yourself. He wanted to check my progress."
Ruger raised his eyebrows at that. He did believe what the fellow had said.
He had deliberately slowed the flaming centipede's advance toward the giant's head earlier, and now that seemed to have been the right decision. When he first sensed that his