Creak! Creak!
The old staircase made its familiar sounds.
Ruger looked at that wrinkled dog's head, that familiar figure from behind, and fell into a momentary daze.
Time passed so quickly.
A thought suddenly surfaced in his mind, the complete opposite of what he had felt when he used to sit here every day, listening to the stairs creak.
"Ah..."
Ruger sighed and glanced at the familiar old Storage Pocket tossed onto the counter. Rather than obediently picking it up, he took up his own Two-Tone Slate, the one belonging to a Regretful One.
For a moment, he really did want to help Uncle Lunse process potion ingredients one more time, but after some thought, he decided against it. That would make it seem as though his uncle had already passed away. For all he knew, old Lunse was enjoying himself somewhere right now.
Breezes drifted in through the gap around the potion shop's door. Old Lunse always liked keeping the door shut, enjoying the chime of the bell whenever a customer pushed it open. It also made it easier to nap behind the counter.
He finished charging the Divine Object Art and cast it.
Holding the stone tablet, Ruger lay back down on the counter, just as he had when sleeping earlier.
The creaking of the stairs beneath old dog-headed Lunse gradually faded away.
Darkness formed from nothingness.
Ruger took a moment to adjust. Just as when he had cast the Divine Object Art on the tablet during the previous trial, he did not give up immediately. Instead, he immersed himself in it, as he had when discovering those passages during the trial-the line about Merselin's bottom being red, for instance, and the ones that followed.
These Wizards often acted with profound intentions. This method of testing them, making