Tars no longer allowed himself to be distracted by anything else. He fixed his gaze solely on the small blood pit. A significant amount of time had passed—long enough for Tars to have consumed a meal—yet the old kobold still hadn't emerged. He was beginning to wonder if Old Golden-Tooth had drowned; the occasional bubble rising to the surface was the only thing stopping him from reaching in to fish the old man out.

  In truth, the bubbles had looked half-dead for a long while, only appearing after long intervals. Tars estimated the time since the last one, which seemed to be getting longer and longer.

  Gurgle-glug! The blood pool suddenly surged violently.

  A smile finally broke across Tars's patchy face. Change was good—and a reaction this intense suggested the process was nearly complete.

  The dragon blood in the small pit began to recede under the frantic churning, as if, true to his earlier joke, Old Golden-Tooth was drinking it all dry. As the level dropped, a curled figure was revealed. The figure lay on its side, legs tucked and hands held before its chest, as peaceful as a sleeping child. Looking closely, the blood wasn't being inhaled through his nose or mouth; rather, it was being absorbed through his entire body as if by osmosis.

  Old Golden-Tooth had grown! That was the first thing Tars confirmed. Then came the difference in his coat.

  Originally, Old Golden-Tooth had been balding, living in a state of natural semi-hairlessness. Now, he had even less fur; on the parts visible above the liquid, large patches where fur once grew had been replaced by scales.

  Old Golden-Tooth was a special case—this was his second transformation into a Dragon-Vein kobold, so he was still influenced by the remnants of his previous change. For instance, the color of his scales logically should have matched the charcoal-black of that "Stupid Dragon," but the scales visible on his shoulders and arms were predominantly a dark, blackish-green. A small section of fine, dense scales was green-flecked-black, as if suggesting that if they ever grew up, they would turn into that same dark hue.

  Tars patted the vibrating nursery pouch at his waist. The little insect was becoming impatient. If Old Golden-Tooth turned out fine, the bug would be next in line for the pool.

  According to the diary he had read, there was no real difference between the various types of dragon blood found throughout a dragon's body. If one wanted higher-quality blood, the only way was for a wizard to perform a refinement process. Tars would have preferred that refined essence, but he wouldn't force the issue. The diary noted that such high-grade "essence" was a preservation of the source, stripping away unnecessary traits—like the tendency for some test subjects to become lazy or prone to rage after dragonization.

  With a splash of bloody water, Old Golden-Tooth finally woke and climbed out of the pit. He immediately knelt and began to vomit, coughing up large amounts of fresh blood. It was unclear if it was his own or the dragon blood he had swallowed. The pool, which had been reduced to less than half, rose significantly from his efforts.

  Splitting the pools was definitely the right choice, Tars thought.

  "My Lord, Old Golden-Tooth is reborn! Hehehehe—"

  Old Golden-Tooth stood before Tars and stretched, his body emitting a series of sharp cracks. With every limb he moved, he let out a chuckle. His original golden tooth had been pushed out by a new, sharp fang; somehow, he had managed to slide it over the tip of the new tooth like a ring.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Tars had already activated his Fetid Skin spell. The worst-case scenario he had feared—the elder losing his mind—had not happened. After all, Old Golden-Tooth was a smart man.

  The elder was now roughly the same height as the Big-Dumb-Humper. While he didn't look nearly as brawny as the Humper or Bald-Tooth, one could sense an explosive power hidden within those lean, scale-covered arms—likely far surpassing Bald-Tooth's strength. After all, this blood was high-tier, certified by the Management Committee, and the dosage had been nothing short of luxurious.

  "Stand there. Let me hit you," Tars said.

  Old Golden-Tooth blinked, then remembered he was different now. He nodded and stood tall with a grin.

  Tars quietly cast Bull's Strength and Mage Armor—the latter to protect his own knuckles; it would be beneath his status to skin his hand. Usually, when dealing with lizardmen, he just charged in with a club. He lunged forward, slamming a fist into the new Old Golden-Tooth's gut, right where the scales were densest.

  Old Golden-Tooth, making no move to defend himself, winced and stumbled back a few steps to steady himself.

  Then, the large kobold and the small one both stared blankly at the elder's stomach. Between his chest and navel, a dozen or so filaments of light were wriggling out from the gaps in his scales. They twisted like tentacles; some reached out as if feeling the environment, while others, having found their mark, curved back to gently stroke the area where he had been hit, seemingly soothing the swelling.

  "These things are still here? It's over! My dream of a clean rebirth is ruined..." Old Golden-Tooth began pacing frantically.

  "I thought you liked them? You can be accompanied by light. The dragon blood I found is very powerful; you should be able to stay together for a long time."

  Tars opened the spatial door and stepped out. Old Golden-Tooth dazed for a moment before following him.

  Now for the observation period. Hopefully, all goes well, Tars thought.

  Shortly after emerging, they encountered Aiskin and the Big-Dumb-Humper. Aiskin was naturally frantic. That was expected. What was interesting was the Big-Dumb-Humper; he stood to the side, radiating tension and fear in every gesture.

  Something was wrong.

  "Old Golden-Tooth?" Aiskin stepped forward, circling him and peering closely. It wasn't until she saw the filaments of light retracting into his belly and the gold "ring" on his fang that she believed her eyes.

  "Hehe! I'm back, and I'll live for a long time. No lies this time! And listen, if you want to get smarter, you should do what I did. There's still half a pool of that treasure left in there..." Old Golden-Tooth clearly assumed the pure dragon blood in the distance was not to be touched.

  Aiskin's genuine joy was infectious. Her ugly little face showed more expression than most kobolds, and she chatted excitedly with the elder.

  Tars approached the Big-Dumb-Humper. Before he could speak, the Humper began gesturing wildly, trying his best to explain. Since eating the black fruit, he had become smarter, but speaking was still a struggle, especially when he was anxious. Tars listened for a moment before giving up.

  "A squad of dark-skinned pointed-ears... they've been prowling nearby lately. Many kobolds out hunting have been taken. It reminds me of the Dark Elf slaver crews Old Golden-Tooth told us about. They've almost found this place," Aiskin’s voice chimed in from behind.

  "Where is Bald-Tooth?" Tars wasn't particularly worried.

  "A kobold from the Red-Horn Tribe, as big as Bald-Tooth, came to take him away. Bald-Tooth refused and was injured. Those pointed-ears chased the big kobold off and now they're blocking the entrance to the Lord's cave, trapping Bald-Tooth inside," Aiskin said urgently. Tars realized she had wanted to tell him this the moment she saw him, but her joy for the elder had momentarily distracted her.

  "Mining," Old Golden-Tooth said firmly. "The only reason those pointed-ear elves catch kobolds is for the mines. Only the large tribes have the strength to trade with them; remote little tribes like ours are just targets for slavery. It has always been so. Those pointed-ears are always at war and need vast amounts of ore. Their city-states are incredibly complex. Only the Human domains in the hollows are places they dare not approach..."

  Tars didn't take it too much to heart. Before leaving his Bedroom Space, he had already decided to see the half-man one more time to prepare for his Abyssal journey.

  "This slaver crew is yours to handle," he said.

  "No problem. It's been a long time since I've seen these 'old friends.' Leave it to me. I know exactly how strong these pointed-ear slavers are." Old Golden-Tooth flexed his enlarged, claw-like palms.

  Tars picked a tunnel and walked away.