Chapter 26

The spell model of Magic Skin Technique looked like a pointed leaf with both ends upturned when viewed from afar. At this moment it was slowly rotating, just like the other spell models, revolving around the Magic Mark within the Spiritual Power Space. They seemed to be guarding this lone Magic Mark. Meanwhile, at the highest point of the Spiritual Power Space, the Zero-Ring Spell Slot of Foul Skin solidified on the dome shone down upon the area below like a star.

Luge was striving to welcome a second Magic Mark as soon as possible.

After recovering his condition, he immediately began casting spells. After seven consecutive Empowerment spell models, by the eighth casting he was already finding it somewhat difficult.

That was probably about it.

He lightly scratched his own skin with his fingernail. The surface of his skin was stimulated by the spell into something like wrinkles, and overall it was covered with a layer of translucent keratin, but the feel was just average. Its advantage was being light and free, and when he stood up and moved about jumping, there was no discomfort at all.

After performing a simple meditation to recover, he took out the gift set Half-Man had given him.

A palm-sized piece of hide, and a bottle of matching potion.

The potion bottle could be read with Spiritual Power for precautions; at first glance it still seemed somewhat dangerous.

First, he needed to select an attachment point. Since this was a defensive item, his thinking was not to expose it openly. He had limited knowledge and did not recognize what this hide was, but that did not mean others would not recognize it either. If there happened to be some targeted method against it, and besides, upon seeing an abrupt little thing, most Wizard Apprentices would guess he could use Magic Skin Technique, or even that he used it frequently.

He groped about for a long time, and finally chose the underside of his upper arm.

First he used Depilation on himself. As he raised his hand, he involuntarily thought of Tu Ya. Precise spell control naturally would not let him become like that.

After cleaning the back side of his upper arm, he broke the potion bottle cap and slowly poured it along his raised elbow onto the back side of his upper arm. The potion inside was somewhat viscous, just right that it would not flow too fast. A sizzling sound arose; the skin was as if corroded, yet it was not as painful as he imagined. Instead, a strange itch was stronger, as if from this corroded place straight to the depths of his soul.

He silently counted in his heart, seized the timing, and slapped that piece of unknown hide down hard.

Originally worried that the somewhat irregular hide would not fit, it instantly became compliant and fitting, as if born for this corroded place. He reached up and lightly smoothed it. The two sizes also became one under the potion's effect. Everything looked so perfect, except for a slight lingering pain afterward.

At this moment he felt that this was like a birthmark that felt somewhat rough to the touch.

Zero-Circle Spell: Magic Skin Technique.

He cast the spell again, carefully feeling the changes in the spell.

This was still his first time using a spell with the assistance of Spell Material, and it was so special—Spell Material already highly bound with his body.

He also felt the change in spell consumption. This was also a change in the same spell he had not experienced before. Last time with Foul Skin he had been too anxious to experiment.

First his arm felt somewhat numb behind. The palm-sized hide still looked black, but as the spell succeeded, his whole body changed because of it. He raised both hands before his eyes; his skin had already turned into a solemn dark red.

He took out a claw left behind by Hei Chang Mao Saint Lord, scraped hard with it, and only left a whitish scratch mark.

Casting spells at the limit number of times, from being able to cast eight times already dropped to five times.

From this it could be seen that the original owner of this piece of hide should have been a creature somewhat stronger than him.

Poking with his fingernail, besides hardness he could feel a bit of resilience.

He lay flat on the ground spread-eagled.

Closing his eyes to enjoy a moment of relaxation.

A thought moved in his heart; Foul Skin was successfully cast, and it seemed there was no conflict.

Rest and meditation, after which he would set out on a condolence journey to the Wizard's remains. As a small Kobold, there was not much he could do. He would make good use of the things they left behind, then simply bury them. Of course, as a Kobold he naturally would not waste a bit; wasting was shameful, so perhaps he would even take away shoes and such.

He had already made preparations for going out before, and at this moment leaving he did not intend to disturb anyone.

Aijin and Tu Ya and them could not find him, and would only think he was nearby hunting and catching bugs.

As for what needed to be prepared, it was actually very simple. For example, two small bottles of Dasha's blood in the Storage Bag, which he had exchanged for Shaved Ice when they parted before. Tu Ya's broken knife hilt he had also demanded over. To him, the remaining section was equivalent to a war hammer. As for the rest of the spare food and such, no need to say more.

Choosing a long stick with a beast tooth fixed at the tip that felt most convenient in hand, he left this maze-like place that had given him a chance to cling to life until now.

Before departure, he inexplicably thought of some heroic tragic stories, such as being stabbed in the back and sent to the grave right after stepping out the door.

He carried the long stick and walked with his short legs. Thinking that he was not a hero, he relaxed again.

One of his recent targets was to first pass through the Small Cave Area where the Kobolds' occupied Small Cave was located, and go to the larger Big Cave where generations of Kobolds hunted. That place was a Small World within a Cave like a wonderland, and his target also had to cross diagonally through there. Fortunately he was crossing diagonally; otherwise he would have to walk several more days. In a neighboring Small Cave Area in that border region was a Wizard's burial ground.

Of course, it was probably a wealthy Wizard Apprentice.

This stretch of journey, viewed from another angle, was also a kind of enjoyment for him.

Luge, who did not participate in tribal hunts, during that period did not dare to go far at all.

The mysterious and unfathomable Underground Space, for a weak race like Kobolds, was filled with the unknown and danger everywhere. The Kobolds' reliance on the so-called Saint Lord, and their enthusiasm for attaching themselves to other Strong Ones, had partly to do with this environment. The harsh survival environment created this strange survival mode.

And now Luge believed that, as long as he was not careless, alone he was more formidable than the strongest hunting party formed within the tribe.

From time to time he cast Bull Strength on himself. Abundant stamina allowed him to march quickly all the way. Mastering the interval timing, he kept his Spiritual Power always in a fairly satisfactory state.

After a journey of nonstop travel.

He slowly stopped, finally seeing the beautiful scenery he had not seen for a long time.

After entering the Big Cave's domain and walking a distance, one would involuntarily look up and gaze into the distance. The tall Spindle Mushrooms stood like giant trees in the distance.

When he first saw it, he was stunned for a moment, and was even kicked in the butt by the Kobold behind him.

The two times he followed the hunting party, they did not go near there. It seemed that place was one of the more dangerous spots in this Cave World.

Luge withdrew his gaze and observed the surrounding environment.

His footsteps while walking were kept as low as possible.

On the road he had already been maintaining the second form of Foul Skin all along. Therefore he also picked up several cute little prey. If he did not recognize them and did not plan to eat them or dared not eat them, he would not choose to stab them to death, pointlessly giving his long stick a bloody smell.

"Lizardman?"

He had just walked a stretch of road when he ran headlong into a group of Lizardmen.

Moreover, they had a crimson back that he had never seen before, which differed greatly from the green-backed fellows who fought year-round with the Kobolds. They looked even stronger, with a row of upright spikes wrapped in thin membrane on their spines. It looked as if the spikes had thrust out hard and burst through the tough skin.

Looking in this direction, this group of little lizards seemed to be going to visit the Kobolds.

"Mm, it would be nice if there were a Mental Control spell."

He couldn't help thinking to himself.

(Chapter End)