The blood-red sky of the Abyss had a way of feeling oppressive if one stared at it for too long. Even in the middle of a vast, boundless wasteland, that crimson ceiling could provoke a sudden, sharp wave of irritability.

  Tars looked back at the ruins nearly filling the deep rift, then at a few twisted, grotesquely shaped trees in the distance.

  Maybe I should head back and consult the half-man, he thought.

  With a wave of his hand, he opened a spatial door. The coordinates of the spatial rift on this side of the Abyss were fixed, so the next time he came, he would likely still see these ruins—though he wondered how long the Abyssal environment would take to smooth over all traces of the castle.

  He stepped inside, and the illusory threshold vanished.

  Wondering how Old Golden-Tooth was faring, he decided to check on him first. If the old kobold was doing fine, then he could begin his own preparations. He also wondered if the half-man would like his extra gift; swapping one old boot for two items felt like a "buy one, get one free" deal where he definitely came out ahead.

  Truthfully, he had been waiting to find the "purer dragon blood" mentioned in the diary—something that would strip away the dross and leave only the powerful essence. However, this experience had forced him to consider a grim possibility: if he were ever trapped in a place where spatial items couldn't open, or in a state where he couldn't move, how long would his short kobold lifespan last? He decided to give the half-man one last try; if that led nowhere, he would use the dragon blood in his Bedroom Space to complete his transformation into a Dragon-Vein kobold.

  Standing within his Abyssal Bedroom, he looked at a pile of debris at his feet. At the final moment, he had collected the remains of that unique succubus scholar into his space—a way of inviting her to the warrens as a "guest," albeit in the form of shards. The books he had painstakingly gathered had also turned to dust, but fortunately, they were mostly leisure reading.

  He stepped out of his spatial door and looked at his simple, three-walled home. It felt ten thousand times more secure than any grand castle.

  By habit, he slung a long staff over his shoulder and hummed a random tune, sauntering toward Old Golden-Tooth's territory. To an outsider, he looked like a perfectly ordinary, somewhat small kobold; as for the humming, they might just assume he had a bit of food stuck in his throat.

  Halfway there, he changed his mind and took a fork in the road—the path leading to the Great Lord's Cave.

  It was exactly as he expected.

  Before he even reached the cave, he heard Old Golden-Tooth's voice. A luxurious, massive bonfire had been lit in the clearing. A huge subterranean beast had been butchered into several portions and was being roasted around the flames. What surprised Tars more than the organized labor of the kobolds was the drifting scent of spices.

  "Aiskin, watch them! Don't give them any more. You lot, be stingy with those spices! Look sharp! The Master loves roasted meat, so we're practicing to see how to make it taste best. These good things from the Pointy-Ears are meant for the Master. You're only getting a taste today because of his grace..."

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  Aside from Old Golden-Tooth, it was hard to find a kobold capable of saying so much in one breath. Tars suspected the old warrior just enjoyed hearing himself talk; few of the kobolds rotating the meat likely understood him, especially the ones currently drooling.

  "Aiskin, you eat first later. Taste every piece to see if it's as delicious as the one you had with the Master."

  Old Golden-Tooth continued his instructions as he circled the fire. Tars didn't rush forward. Standing in the shadows of the path, he watched the scene with a smile. The flickering firelight made the clearing appear exceptionally bright.

  After another lap, Old Golden-Tooth moved toward a stone that hadn't been there before. The tall Dragon-Vein kobold flopped onto it. Two kobolds who had been waiting by the stone immediately stepped forward to knead and pound the old warrior's legs and arms. Bald-Fang and Big-Dumb-Humper stood on either side of the stone like bodyguards.

  "Quite the lifestyle, Old Golden-Tooth."

  Tars stepped out from the side. His voice made Old Golden-Tooth jump up from the rock. Then came Aiskin, her eyes watering from the smoke, running toward him with large strides.

  "Brother Tars, roasted meat!" Aiskin said happily, handing him a slice.

  Tars took a large bite. The flavor was average and a bit too hot, but the experience of eating it was immensely satisfying.

  "Master, you were gone for so long! I actually missed you a bit, hehe," Old Golden-Tooth said, leaning in. Bald-Fang and Big-Dumb-Humper also crowded around, looking at Tars with awe-filled eyes.

  Tars didn't believe a word of the old man's teasing, but seeing the looks from the other kobolds, he guessed that Old Golden-Tooth had spent his absence bragging about him.

  Sitting down on the stone, Tars enjoyed the service of other kobolds for the first time. Aiskin personally carved the meat into a large bowl made from a beast's skull. A swarm of kobolds stayed busy, bringing him piece after piece of meat cooked to different levels, each tested with different spices.

  "These are spoils from the elves. I've already chased them off," Old Golden-Tooth said, stuffing meat into his mouth with a grin. "The Kobold King of the Red-Horn Tribe heard you're a wise one and wants to meet you. It's Bald-Fang's fault for blabbing that you're a rare kobold spellcaster. But don't worry, I know you hate trouble, so I chased their messenger off, too. The Red-Horns are officially at war with the Pointy-Ears now; they won't have time for our little corner."

  "I heard it from the Pointy-Ears—the Red-Horn Tribe has more power than anyone thought. They're a real threat to those two nearby elven city-states. Those cities have a lot of slaves beneath them; if things go south, it'll be a mess."

  Old Golden-Tooth ate happily, seemingly very satisfied with his current life.

  "Were you injured in the fighting?" Tars asked.

  "A little. A Pointy-Ear poked me in the butt, but it healed right up. I barely felt the pain..." Old Golden-Tooth reached under the stone and pulled out several dark objects. "Master, this is called Cry-Mushroom Wine. I only took a tiny sip; I saved the rest for you." He handed over several black water-skins—more elven specialties.

  Tars, intrigued, took a small sip. It was sweet, with a faint earthy taste and a hint of mushroom fragrance. He immediately waved his hand and stored half of it.

  As he ate and drank, he kept a close eye on Old Golden-Tooth. The transformation into a Dragon-Vein kobold seemed perfectly stable. He looked at Aiskin and Big-Dumb-Humper. Aiskin seemed unsatisfied with the meat's flavor and was deep in thought, while Big-Dumb-Humper just ate in silence. When the other kobolds began to eat, the scene turned chaotic—screaming, shouting, never a moment of silence.

  In the past, Tars would have detested such noise, but now it felt strangely okay. Provided, of course, that he didn't have to stay long.

  Once full, he packed some roasted meat into his storage bag. Before leaving, he told Aiskin and Big-Dumb-Humper not to wander off, as he might come for them at any moment. Both kobolds nodded obediently. Tars planned to take them with him during his own transformation so they could become Dragon-Vein kobolds together.

  But first, he had to see if the half-man had a way to provide purer dragon blood.

  After a winding walk, the crossroads appeared once more, the great boulder still standing in its place.