Pure faith power filled his mental power space. His believers' absolute, unalloyed love, filtered through Stray Hair One, the God of Spirit Fur, still brought him a peculiar sense of comfort as he felt it. It was as though something warm enveloped his mental power space, lifting his spirits a little.
But soon, a disturbance arose within his mental power space, and with it came a sense of emptiness deep in his soul.
A new spell slot had formed as his mental power space expanded.
Ruger had expected this. In his spare moments, he had even speculated about just how intense the emptiness of a third-ring spell slot would be.
He had considered all of this beforehand.
Only that shackle had been a genuine little surprise. Yet that was not quite fair to say, either. After all, the kobolds' ancestors had left it behind countless years ago, so it had been the first to greet him. It should not have been a surprise. It was an inevitability, lying in wait specifically for those who rebelled against fate.
By the time everything ended, his expanded mental power space had long since stabilized. Enduring that strange sense of emptiness, he opened his eyes.
He did not hurry to get up. He simply sat quietly in the Experiment Corner, still adjusting to this emptiness. He intended to stay there until, as after his advancement to the second ring, he could live, converse, and cast spells normally despite it.
Ruger leaned back, spread his arms, and lay on the floor.
Lord Ruger, the Three-Ring Wizard?
As Ruger pondered this, a cry rang out.
"Ee! Eeya?"
The Blood Curse Doll broke free of Stray Hair One and came over again, cautiously approaching Ruger and rubbing against his cheek.
Ruger smiled faintly, reached out, and pulled