Ruger raised his eyebrows hard, drawing his scalp taut to ease the discomfort in his head. The sounds around him were returning, though a ringing sensation still accompanied them. There was fresh air, too. He had not truly been suffocating, but he still had to take several deep, gasping breaths.
A sealed room.
A Demon Wizard.
What were they planning to do?
What were they planning to do to that legendary old wizard, to their teacher?
Moreover, judging by what he had seen, none of this seemed to have begun after this supposed loss of control. It had started a very, very long time ago. They had worked together, pooling their efforts, and some had even sacrificed themselves for it. The others still remembered them. The so-called Twelve Stone Chairs had lit up and gone dark, then lit up again, their numbers rising and falling. Some of those people seemed no longer to be the original participants, but successors like his teacher, Immanuel. Across those long years, they might even have been successors to successors.
It was just that his teacher, Immanuel Caputo, had arrived at a rather unfortunate time: a crucial moment when things were changing, when they were about to reap some kind of reward. His right of succession had also fallen into his lap, so those fellows had somehow revoked his eligibility and sealed him away. In theory, that meant one place would remain vacant forever.
Ruger blinked. It seemed he had filled that vacancy, adding another place to their number.
That counted as getting a little revenge for his teacher, who had already become somewhat witless.
Still, he was not truly a replacement. What he had received had not come from his teacher, but had been personally bestowed on him by his teacher's teacher's teacher. Apparently,