Several days had passed since the spell succeeded, but Ruger still had not brought that wine cup into the Bedroom Space.
He had certainly considered it, but he feared those fellows would not be able to withstand it. The only one he was reasonably sure could was Tuzel, but that fellow could get drunk on his own. As for his teacher, he was entirely out of the question, someone Ruger was even less willing to experiment on recklessly. His teacher was already chaotic enough.
Ruger examined himself. Now that he possessed three sickly, half-dead characters of his Demon True Name, his demon form and the spell model of the Miserly Demonfall Spell continued to undergo subtle changes. They did not seem much different from when he had possessed only one true-name character.
Ruger suspected that his true name might be very long. Continuing this way would never work. He still needed a genuine core, at least enough to stop those fellows from remaining vague and half-dead, so he could better seek out his Demon True Name. In other words, he first needed a demon heart of his own.
A special demon, a special heart.
Obtaining his own demon heart should also count as progress and improvement.
As long as it counted as his own growth and improvement, it ought to be enough to satisfy that powerful, distinguished guest who so often arrived uninvited.
Ruger liked the feeling of solving several problems and predicaments by doing a single thing, while also laying a solid foundation for the much longer road ahead.
This was what people called efficiency, and it also soothed the laziness deep within him.
He tilted his head, thinking that perhaps everyone in the world who pursued efficiency had a lazy heart just like his.
He was lazy, but