Ruger's gaze shifted slightly.
"My teacher has indeed run into some difficulties. Can you help resolve them?" he asked tentatively.
The remarkably polite hand actually began to ponder the question.
In truth, Ruger had always wanted to try to do something.
A long while passed.
-Perhaps doing nothing is best.
-His Excellency is indeed a Wizard. He exists before everyone's eyes, yet seems not to exist at all.
-Perhaps this state is dangerous. Perhaps he intended it, just like me, reaching a certain state only to forget what I wanted to do.
The hand wiped the stone clean and found another spot barely suitable for writing.
-Perhaps he alone can truly resolve all this. The same goes for me.
-Could you give me a glass of Sour Mushroom Wine? I want to admire the scenery here and continue my contemplation.
Polite Hand looked expectantly at the contemplative Ruger.
Ruger came back to his senses, took out a large cup, and filled it to the brim with Sour Mushroom Wine. The hand opened the mouth in its palm and struggled to spit out a simple little wooden chair, which Tuzel had also modified for it after their meal using a wineglass stand. Once the cup was full, the fellow climbed onto the chair.
A hand reclined on a little lounge chair, a cup of wine beside it, silently gazing into the distance.
Ruger could not help rolling his eyes.
He walked to the distant cliff edge and began practicing spells for the first time in a long while.
His trip to the Library had completely disrupted his original plans, including building up Fendim's Flaming Centipede. This was more than just a spell. He remained deeply interested in that legendary level of power and the vanished Fendim, and looked forward to the