Under what circumstances would a Wizard find the courage to give something up?
The question could be complicated or simple, but one thing was indispensable-the very starting point of it all.
That was a pair of bright eyes capable of seeing into things and discovering their beauty, of finding something wonderful and recognizing its inherent value from an angle others lacked. That alone was enough to nurture courage. If the beauty before those eyes could only be appreciated by a discerning few, or if that perspective belonged to oneself alone, that courage would surge forth all the more powerfully.
Ruger shook the thing in his hand. This was the source of Robin and the others' courage.
The same thing held different values for different people. Some might lack the eyes to discern its wonders, while others focused solely on their own fields. Turn their attention elsewhere, and their perception faltered; they neither recognized its worth nor needed it.
Ruger casually tossed it aside, and the thing actually stood on its own. A humanoid shape without bones or internal organs, it swayed from side to side and writhed faintly, yet managed to remain on two feet.
What a marvelous thing.
It had seemingly been able to contend with a Wizard through the entanglement of souls just moments ago, yet now it looked dull-witted. Even through the Boundless Cage, he could sense how faint its soul aura was, which weakened the cage's effect as well. Creatures at this level generally possessed no intelligence, or very little.
Put plainly, judging by the strength of the soul it currently displayed, it was nowhere near as intelligent as even a stupid kobold.
Yet the interesting thing about this Otherworldly Visitor was that once it became entangled with someone, it changed dramatically, displaying considerable strength and