Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 25 The King and the Wizard
It should be that the dog-headed people of the Red Horn Tribe were fighting with the giant snake before, and the noise they made attracted the attention of the dog-headed people.

But they have to wait until everything is settled before they dare to investigate stealthily.

But when he looked over, the Gray Long-Neck Saint Lord had disappeared.

The question was, why had it disappeared? Had it run away? But why would it have run away? Ruger was baffled. After much thought, he could only reluctantly blame the Red Horn Tribe's kobolds. Perhaps the snake had been frightened by the Red Horn Tribe's warrior, or perhaps its true fear was the Red Horn Tribe's kobold king, who had yet to be revealed.

A good place for a bald dog-headed man suddenly appeared in Ruger's mind.

"Bald...big guy, do you have a name?" he said.

The bald dog-headed man looked confused, as if he felt Ruger's eagerness, which made him stunned for a moment, and then he hurriedly shook his head in cooperation.

Most dog-headed people have no names in their entire lives, nor do they need names. It is a good thing that Dashaheng has a nickname. This at least shows that there is still a trace and certain characteristics in the tribe. He is not one of the thousands of dog-headed people who go out with the tribe's hunting team once and never come back, and who seem to look the same.

The more approachable Ai Sijin has a decent name because of the existence of Lao Jin Ya.

In the words of Old Gold Teeth, Aisijin is a bitter dessert of the dark elves that was forced into the language of the Gnolls and whose pronunciation is not accurate.

"Bald Tooth, you are our new king! The Hairless King! From now on, remember, you are our Hairless Saint!"

With the power of the wild bull, he patted the bald dog-headed man's shoulder hard, making the guy, who was supporting himself on the ground with his elbows and had a dazed look on his face, stagger and almost lie down again in a daze.

At Ruger's signal, Aisijin reluctantly took out a grass skirt and a long stick.

"This is your symbol as king, the king's scepter, the king's holy clothes. Now take them and conquer the kobolds here! Let them see how powerful you are!"

As he said this, he stuffed the thing into the bald dog-headed man's arms, grabbed his arm with one hand and pulled him up forcefully.

The dog-headed man, who already had the nickname Bald Tooth, was a little confused for a moment.

"I, I am not as strong as you. The king's order—"

"Yes! Of course you haven't forgotten the king's orders! The Red Horn Tribe's Kobold King is still waiting for you," Ruger said solemnly. "If you want the king to no longer despise you for being stupid, you must listen to me and become the king here, protecting this place and the Kobolds of this small tribe. Only if you try to be a small king can you truly help the Kobold King and make him no longer disappointed in you. If you prove that you can protect us, then we will consider following you! The king will definitely be happy and will definitely praise you!"

A mysterious mark quietly remained on Bald Tooth's arm, gradually fading away and becoming invisible.

Ruge even wanted to make a spell contract or something, but unfortunately he didn't know how to do it, and there was no specific knowledge of spell contracts in Kalu's diary. He had to leave a secret mark as a mark so that he could sense the approximate location of Bald Tooth when he was nearby.

With the help of Dashaheng, Bald Tooth shook off the last of the ice, gathered some longer fur around his waist, and then put on a grass skirt.

The hairless dog-headed man seems to be even uglier.

However, Baldy is strong enough, and the lack of hair makes him look even more ferocious and powerful, bringing his ugliness to a new level.

Soon the dog-headed people's exclamations came one after another.

The main settlement of the tribe was indeed here, but there were also a few smaller ones elsewhere. Dashaheng was currently accompanying Bald Tooth, leading the new king. Dashaheng had been appointed the king's guard once again, officially resuming his old duties, but this time the appointment was made by Luger, and the new king would not object.

Ruger also told Bald Tooth that when he encountered something difficult to decide and didn't understand, he should come here to ask Old Gold Tooth for advice. Finally, he told him not to bother him easily, because if something really happened, Aisijin knew where he would be.

As the dog-headed people were witnessing the rise of a new king they had never seen or imagined.

Ruger finally arrived alone at the place he had been longing for for a long time.

Every dog-headed man in the tribe knows that the largest cave here is a sacred place belonging to the master that no dog-headed man can easily set foot in.

The astonishingly large cave can be said to be the palace of each generation of Holy Lord.

In his view, it was also the dining room, bedroom, garbage dump, or something else entirely for each generation of masters. The so-called objects of dependence were sometimes powerful but not very intelligent underground beasts. Therefore, this cave, which belonged to the successive Holy Lords, was littered with bones of all sizes left over from their consumption, like small mountains.

I don’t know how many years this group of dog-headed people have been entrenched here. After so many years of accumulation, most places in the cave have become difficult to step into.

The holy rulers of all generations have different preferences. Some just sleep after eating and eat after waking up.

Some like to collect all kinds of strange things. When a dog-headed man meets such a master, he will try his best to offer the various things he has picked up.

Click!

He seemed to be enjoying a sightseeing activity alone, occasionally crushing a brittle bone under his feet, and looking around as he walked.

"Really gone?"

He walked around for a long time and came to a pile of broken bones. Based on the size of the Gray Long-Neck Saint and the traces left there, he judged that it should usually lie down here to rest. After searching carefully, he could see a few gray-white scales in the gaps of the bones.

"This is?"

He struggled with his hands to pry open the nearby bones.

An egg!

Did it come here just to lay eggs?

An egg the size of a human head, would it be too small for the huge body of the Gray Long-Neck Saint?

If you can't find any black fruit, it's good to find an egg.

He held up the egg with both hands. It was cold to the touch. The moment he touched it, he felt that it was a dead egg. Even with his mental power exhausted, he could not sense any life inside the egg.

Just as he was disappointed, he heard movement from his waist.

After what happened with the female elf last time, he had already hidden the storage bag and the breeding bag in the leather gap of his shorts.

"Do you want to eat?"

He took the dead egg to the mouth of the incubation bag.

"But you are just an egg. It's bigger than you, and you won't break out of the shell. How can you eat it?" He shook the cultivation bag in his hand.

Anxiety immediately emerged from within the bag, and faint mental fluctuations continued to be transmitted through the slightly open bag.

Unable to withstand the disturbance of the little insect eggs, he treated it as normal feeding. His mental power connected with the breeding bag and with a thought in his mind, the dead eggs were successfully collected into the breeding bag, and the little insect eggs also stopped in an instant.

He thought, "Isn't he going to be crushed to death?"

The breeding bag shook slightly, as if it guessed what he was thinking and was comforting him and letting him know he was safe.

Another quick walk around.

The environment was messy and he couldn't find anything good, so he decided not to waste any more time and handed the task over to Dashaheng and Aisijin.

Then he returned to his three-way bedroom and continued to study the lovely magic skin technique. As he left, he heard cheers from behind. It seemed that the dog-headed people in the tribe were surrounding the new king and coming to the holy cave from the passage on the other side to celebrate.

He leaned back in his accustomed position, holding the book with his mind focused. The tome on Demon Skin Technique was slowly turning the pages in his hands, and the frequency of turning the pages became faster and faster, but only his hands were moving. His eyes seemed not to blink, fixed on the pages, and the rise and fall of his breathing was barely noticeable. The angle of his elbows and the curve of his neck made it seem as if his whole body was frozen, as if he was about to plunge into the book.

(End of this chapter)