The patterns on the pot were twisted blood vessels, still writhing when he focused on them. Its body had an elegant curve, an elegant shape, and retained the openings a heart should have, except they were not connected to blood vessels. Instead, they had all twisted toward the spout.
Ruger briefly lost focus as he stared at the table. It seemed to glow crimson, but when he looked again, it felt like an illusion.
After staring at it for a while, he actually sensed an ancient air about it.
Ruger raised an eyebrow. That inexplicable sense of antiquity might also have been influenced by the drumbeat-like sound.
That heartbeat-like sound was much like the glow he had glimpsed when his mind wandered. He could hear it when he focused, but once he left that state, it became completely inaudible.
The Vango Family's Two-Ring Wizard walked toward the heavy Crimson Round Table, step by step.
When Ruger saw his insect-like transformation begin to fade, his heart sank. He knew this sharp-eyed fellow was finished.
With those slow steps, the sharp-eyed fellow reverted completely to human form.
Ruger believed he still had plenty of abilities he had yet to use, both in his insect form and outside it. Now, however, he had lost every chance to use them.
Only one question flashed through his mind.
Could this fellow survive?
A reasonably talented Two-Ring Wizard was still quite important to a Wizard Family. Although a direct comparison was somewhat cruel, Ruger had to admit that he carried far more weight than the Apprentices and One-Ring Wizards who had died a few days earlier.
The man's gaze was no longer sharp, but he did not seem to have lost his senses either.
He walked step by step, only to end up crawling to the