Mining? Territorial disputes?

  City-state blood feuds? Delicious food? Dragon blood?

  Tars pondered these things as he walked.

  These seemingly disparate elements and unrelated matters might actually be tightly interwoven when viewed from a different perspective. Some might see them simply as resources or desires. From another angle, one could call them missions, the entanglement of fate, or the natural laws that all living beings must obey. Tars, however, had found his own perspective: transcendence. He couldn't achieve it yet—he was far from having that kind of power—but as long as he could become a powerful wizard, none of this would matter anymore.

  Tars considered himself a lazy fellow. After learning about the existence of Dragon-Vein kobolds, he had even fantasized about truly becoming a dragon so he could simply grow stronger while sleeping lazily. Ultimately, it was the wonder and mystery of the wizard's path in Kalyu's diary—and the occasional mention of the exorbitant prices of dragon-based experimental materials—that pulled him back from that thought.

  Lost in these idle musings, he took a long way around. Because of his different starting point, he had to take a detour, but fortunately, he chose the right forks in the road. He was gradually drawing closer to the great stone where the half-man resided.

  As he walked, he suddenly felt that he was becoming more and more like a true kobold. For instance, he wasn't just taking rewards to run errands anymore; he was clinging to the "thigh" of a powerhouse like the half-man for the sake of his wizard path. It seemed different from the way other kobolds relied on their Lords, yet perhaps not so different after all.

  A series of booming rumbles cut through his thoughts, and Tars quickly ducked to the side. The sound grew increasingly familiar. He poked his head out and saw Baont's brawny silhouette receding rapidly down another fork in the path, vanishing almost instantly. He shook his head, unsure if the giant had even noticed him.

  Continuing on his way, he soon arrived before the massive stone. This time, he waited for quite a while before the hazy figure of the half-man gradually materialized, as it always did.

  "It seems you are prepared, little kobold who has become a second-level wizard apprentice," the half-man said slowly.

  Tars nodded. The half-man probably thinks I drank that 'Awakening Potion' to clear the side effects, he thought.

  "Is there anything else I should be mindful of?" Tars asked, adopting the posture of a humble student. In his mind, he flashed to Kalyu's diary and the possibility of more volumes. As a kobold, his channels for obtaining transcendent knowledge were far too limited. Without a broad perspective, it would be easy to be cheated in daily trades, let alone make progress in his studies.

  "That rift most likely leads to a wasteland. You can still enter the corridor space from there at any time, but the location of the rift cannot be changed. This means that if you wander far and fall into danger, you can return to the exact spot where you entered the Abyss via the corridor. Use this wisely, but take care not to be exposed. As long as you remain hidden, ordinary demons will not be able to detect the rift," the half-man instructed.

  "Powerful Being, I wonder if you have the continuation of that diary... the one you gave me before?" Tars ventured.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Without a moment's hesitation, a small notebook of the same style flew toward him. Tars caught it immediately, flipped through a few pages with delight, and tucked it into his storage pouch.

  "Over there, you must be careful. Even if your disguise is not seen through, danger remains. They are not like kobolds who share tribal love and help each other survive. The relationships between demons—from the clumsy and savage to the clever and treacherous—at best amount to compromises born of power..."

  "Usually, in the wilderness or among ruins, there will be several broken Abyssal Altars. For me, those will suffice. You are an outsider there; you will feel a sensation when you approach an altar. It is not a difficult task."

  As the half-man spoke, he sent over another bottle of the deep green potion from last time, a precaution against Tars being wounded or killed. Tars accepted it silently. At the same time, the half-man's figure began to fade until it vanished completely.

  Tars thought for a moment and decided to return to his "three-way ventilated" bedroom to begin his first journey into the Abyss. Returning to a familiar place definitely made him feel more at ease.

  He rested for a while and opened the spatial door. After a quick check, he saw there were still plenty of grubs left from his last preparation. The "half-face" was still there, eyes closed and motionless. He decided to take off his storage pouch and nursery pouch and set them on the stone bed in the Abyssal Bedroom.

  He walked slowly to the Abyssal Rift at the edge of the space. This was the first time he had been this close to it. He reached out to touch it; it didn't feel like something he could simply walk through, so he tried pressing his hand against it, intending to open it just as he did the spatial door.

  With a single thought, the dark red rift slowly swung open, though he couldn't see anything on the other side. After a moment of hesitation, he threw a small pebble through; it only triggered a brief ripple, revealing nothing else.

  Zero-Ring Spell: Mage Armor.

  He hesitated no longer and lunged through.

  Vision went dark for a second as he passed through. First came the sensation of firm ground beneath his feet, which instantly brought him a sense of relief. But when he looked up, he was stunned.

  Before him was a room thick with dust. There were chairs, a table, and a bed. The bedding was tattered, yet one could tell it had once been exquisite; the curtains around the bed had even pleats and patterns, with tassels hanging from the four corners.

  He slowly turned his head. The room had a single window; the curtain on one side had rotted away, while the remaining half still hinted at its former opulence. Thick dust covered the bed and the floor. The door on one side was tightly shut. From the undisturbed dust, it was clear that for a very long time, he was the only visitor to leave footprints here.

  The Abyss? This is the Abyss?

  In his imagination, the wasteland should have featured a few strangely shaped, leafless trees. In the half-man's description, one might occasionally encounter wandering imps. No matter how he had imagined it, it was nothing like this.

  He walked toward the window, wanting to see the outside.

  Thud! Thud! Thud!

  "Young Master, your Abyssal Language lesson is about to begin. The tutor has been waiting in the classroom for quite some time."

  Following the dull knocks was an elderly, impeccably polite voice.

  Standing in the room, the hairs on Tars's back stood straight up instantly. But he soon let out a long breath. He remembered he could retreat back into his space and return to his familiar bedroom to have a cup of shaved ice to calm his nerves. However, he immediately realized that since the rift's location was fixed, it meant he wouldn't be able to complete the task entrusted to him by the half-man.

  Was this path going to be cut off just like that?

  "Young Master, I know you are in there," the old voice from outside called again.

  Go back and consult the half-man first, he thought. He already had the dragon blood and could rid himself of the short-lived curse on his own. If things didn't work out with the half-man, he could make other plans for his wizard path.

  Thud! Thud! Thud!

  He raised his hand to open the spatial door.

  "Young Master, you cannot keep running off to play. The teacher has been waiting for a long time."

  As the polite words were spoken, the spatial door that had just begun to materialize vanished instantly into thin air.