Emerging from his meditation, Tars fell into a deep silence.

  Upon inspection, he discovered that his spell model had undergone a subtle change—no, a significant one. The model solidified in his spell slot, which had already fused with his very being, now possessed an extra node. The nineteen nodes of Fetid Skin had become twenty.

  The number of nodes did not necessarily dictate the strength of a spell; rather, it signified a change in its direction, function, or effect. Was this a transformation that could occur on its own, without a wizard apprentice actively modifying it?

  Is it because the solidified spell has merged with me, becoming like an instinct? he wondered wildly. He desperately wanted to ask someone if other wizards who had solidified spells ever encountered this. If it were rare, it would surely pique the interest of scholars. In a place like the wizard academy mentioned in Karyu's diary, there would likely be answers. Perhaps in such a place, this wasn't even a mystery at all.

  The half-man should understand this, he thought. Perhaps that strange being would even know the nature of the holy skeletal-hand tree. The half-man's eerie mystery had elevated his image in Tars's mind; at the very least, he crudely assumed the half-man was more powerful than the tutors described in Karyu's journal.

  As for the effect of the altered spell, he already had a rough idea.

  He raised his arms and gave a long, hard stretch. Having slept and then meditated, his mental energy was well-rested and the soreness in his arms had vanished. He had originally planned to use the remaining two legacy scrolls and then select a spell from one of the books to study, but the dream had disrupted everything.

  He stood up and headed straight for the main colony where Old Gold-Tooth stayed. He still had things to discuss with the old kobold.

  The appearance of lizardmen, the mysterious replacement of the Holy Lord, and the arrival of distant, iron-wielding kin seemed to have no lasting effect on the tribe. After the initial panic, they had returned to their old ways.

  Seeing two kobolds walking toward him, Tars activated Fetid Skin. The extra node affected every other node in the model. In his perception, the spell hadn't completely changed; rather, it had gained a new function—or perhaps a new way of being utilized.

  He walked past them inconspicuously. As the distance closed, the two kobolds were definitely within the spell's range. Yet they walked on leisurely, carrying two broken wooden sticks with beast teeth lazily tied to them, as if nothing were happening.

  Just as he was thinking this, one of the kobolds glanced at him. Suddenly, the creature hit the ground with a dull thud.

  Watching the twitching figure, Tars felt most of his theories being confirmed. His mouth quirked up into a grin once more. He had become a very smug little kobold; it was a pity his sub-species had no tails, or he surely would have wagged his.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Previously, he had realized he could occasionally sense the malice of others more clearly. He had attributed it to kobold animal instinct or the heightened sensitivity of a wizard apprentice's mental power. Now, it seemed it was linked to the solidified Zero-Ring spell.

  This evolution allowed him to feel the malice of others with startling clarity. Furthermore, in this state, he could allow those who bore him no ill will to remain untouched by the foul stench. Though he hadn't grasped how a dream could alter a spell, it was a welcome change.

  For a moment, he felt like a child with a marvelous new toy. It was a shame he had no one to share it with; he genuinely wished he could find another wizard apprentice to exchange ideas with.

  If his intuition was correct, the "stink" reflected back was no longer the original foulness of the spell. Perhaps the stench had been different from the moment he learned it. It was a psychic odor—the "Stench of Malice," the smell of pure evil. The greater and thicker the malice, the more the spell would feed back the essence of that rot.

  It was a reflection, and a gift of evil.

  Thud!

  The other kobold went down. Such simple-minded creatures—upon seeing a companion fall and noticing him in the distance, they would instantly flare with malice. It was understandable, but it meant the spell had to be used with caution.

  This is a spell that makes you no friends, he thought. If he ever lived in a big city or a wizard academy, he couldn't use it recklessly. After all, who lives without a spark of malice in their heart? If he knocked everyone down, he'd never meet a soul.

  He deactivated the spell as he approached Old Gold-Tooth. Evil came in all sizes, and threats varied in weight. In his eyes, someone like Old Gold-Tooth was harmless—an immobile, dying old kobold posed no threat, no matter how much malice he might harbor.

  "Young kobold sage, you've come to chat with Old Gold-Tooth again? What stories do you want to hear today?" The old man seemed genuinely happy to see him. Aiskin was nowhere to be found.

  "Little Aiskin took the big oaf out to catch bugs. That one's belly is so big they won't be back for a while." Old Gold-Tooth fiddled with the light-threads on his body, appearing entirely indifferent to his approaching end.

  "You mentioned the Sun before," Tars said, sitting down so he wouldn't have to look down at the old man. "Have you ever been to the surface? Or do you know the way to the world above?"

  Old Gold-Tooth blinked, caught off guard. "Ah, I knew a youngster would be interested in that," he chuckled. "That you even know the term 'world above' means you have some other friends. Before I met those dusky point-ears, I knew nothing of such things. They spoke of their longing for the surface, and I couldn't understand a word. When they spoke of the sun and moon, I thought they were special elven foods."

  "But you'll be disappointed, youngster. I've never seen the sun. I only heard about it in the taverns of the point-ear elves' territory. They didn't know how to get there either, and the Dragon-kin kobolds were the same. No one I've ever met has been to the world above."

  Old Gold-Tooth curled his lip, his face twitching as the light-threads irritated him. "Anyway, those point-ears said that the sun... and those human 'Cave-Cities' are massive. Every great Cave-City has a sun above it. They say the light illuminates the entire domain where people live. Every so often, the light dims, then brightens again. When it's dark, the humans sleep in their nests."

  The old man sighed at the imagined power of humanity. Whenever the stories grew thin, Tars would nudge him toward a new topic. The old kobold was like a treasure chest that never seemed to empty, though he did have his guarded secrets.

  "A kobold tribe that serves a dragon must be powerful," Tars suggested. "I encountered a group of tall, iron-wielding kobolds nearby. They ran into some lizardmen and fought. I wonder if they came from your old home."

  "I never expected things to get so chaotic around here. You were right to keep Aiskin from hunting with them. It's a pity I have no strength left; even eating meat is a struggle now..." Old Gold-Tooth rambled on, but he pointedly avoided mentioning where his old tribe was located.