Still chatting and laughing, the three reached the room marked twenty-eight. Bratt unlocked the door, and after looking around inside, all three wore satisfied expressions.

The room was a little over thirty square meters and reasonably clean, with no strong odor. It contained two large beds, a complete set of tables and chairs, and a washroom in one corner. There was no flush toilet, but it did have a faucet and drain, allowing it to be flushed manually.

Anser nodded his approval.

Considering the living conditions and security, five silver pieces truly was not expensive.

He entered the washroom and found a small, cracked mirror directly ahead. It reflected a vivid, striking face. Silver light shone in his taupe hair, while dragon scales faintly visible beneath his skin gleamed with a metallic luster.

‘Is that me?’ Everything had happened so quickly that this was his first time seeing his own appearance.

‘No wonder Rand didn’t recognize me. There are traces of the original Anser, but I look like a completely different person.’

He was tall and long-legged, with a straight, well-proportioned build. His facial features were relatively pronounced, yet together they produced a gentle warmth and an indescribable sense of familiarity. His black eyes were dark, deep, and mysterious, possessing an almost magical attraction.

At that moment, the word Charisma had taken physical form!

Anser marveled inwardly. ‘So this is how much focusing on Charisma changes someone.’

After admiring himself alone for a while, he finally returned to the room.

Bratt was counting the spoils they had “intimidated” out of the gang. It was their party’s first battle since forming.

They had obtained one decent suit of scale mail, one surcoat, three poor-quality gems, thirty-seven gold pieces, forty-one silver pieces, and more than a hundred copper pieces.

“That’s not much.” Bratt sounded dissatisfied.

“It’s already quite good.” Anser was speechless. The disaster had come without warning, and simply surviving was an achievement. How many people could have brought all their wealth with them?

“You handle the money.” Bratt looked serious. “Now that we’re a party, we need rules. We can’t divide loot based on our moods.”

“What do you have in mind?” Anser knew little about such things, and the original owner of his body had never experienced them either.

Finn came over in silence and listened intently. He had lived in the wilderness before; how would he know anything about this?

Bratt considered it. “Every party has different rules, and many factors affect them...”

Generally speaking, loot was divided according to contribution. Intelligence, experience, combat power, and support for the team were all important factors.

Mages with their vast spell selections and ability to solve all sorts of problems rarely joined adventuring parties. But whenever they did, they inevitably received certain privileges because they had so many ways to overcome difficulties.

After a lengthy discussion, they decided that Anser, as captain, would receive half the proceeds from their adventures. Bratt and Finn would split the other half, while the party would cover expenses incurred during an adventure.

Loot obtained in actual adventures and battles would also be adjusted to reflect each person’s contribution.

Anser pulled the scale mail and surcoat toward himself and pointed his staff at them. After a brief incantation, every trace of blood and dirt vanished, leaving them looking brand-new.

This was the Prestidigitation cantrip. It could create sensory effects, kindle flames, clean or soil objects, make magical marks, and conjure small items. Its effects were weak but extremely practical.

“The scale mail and surcoat go to you. At eighty percent of market price, let’s call it... forty gold pieces. We’ll put it on your account for now, and you can make up the difference when you have the money. We’ll use the remaining funds to purchase supplies and won’t distribute them yet. Sound good?” Anser proposed.

“Fine...” Neither of them objected. This was also standard practice.

The core of loot distribution was simple: everyone agreed to the rules beforehand, and accounts were settled immediately afterward. Ambiguity would cause serious trouble sooner or later.

With the distribution complete, Anser fell back onto a bed and relaxed. Exhaustion immediately washed over him. The battle at the bridge had truly pushed him past his limits.

“Let’s rest for an hour.”

“All right...”

Anser casually brought up his character sheet. He had less than half his mana remaining, while his experience had reached 827/900. He was about to level up.

‘Levels really do come quickly at the beginning.’

He closed his eyes and entered meditation.

—

They had planned to rest for an hour, but nearly two hours passed before they woke one after another. The earlier battle had been brief, yet it had taken a great deal out of all of them.

Anser rubbed his head. The mana around him seemed even more chaotic.

Since acquiring Mana Control, his sensitivity to mana had grown steadily sharper. He was certain he was not imagining it.

‘How strange.’

He took out his pocket watch. The hand had just passed four, but outside the window, it was as dark as evening.

“It feels stifling. It might rain.”

The moment he finished speaking, white light flashed outside, and thunder exploded overhead.

Bratt remained silent for a moment before sighing. “I wonder how many people will die.”

Tens of thousands were crammed into a district built for only a few thousand, without enough food, water, or shelter. Once the downpour arrived, how could the weak survive it?

Anser understood how he felt. When a massive earthquake struck his country in his previous life, merely watching the videos had brought him to tears. He might have had a sharp tongue in online arguments, but when his compatriots suffered, how could he not empathize?

But this was another world. Although he had inherited scattered memories from the original Anser, it was difficult to regard these people as his compatriots. Besides, Baldur’s Gate was home to many races—not only humans, but half-elves, dwarves, halflings, dragonborn, and more.

He shook his head and stopped thinking about it. “Let’s buy some supplies and sell these things while we’re at it.”

He kicked the bundle. Most of it consisted of heavy weapons and equipment, and Bratt had suffered carrying it all this way. If they had known, they should have borrowed a handcart from the old priest.

“Let’s go. Maybe we’ll find something good.” Bratt immediately perked up.

That was no idle hope. Anser had discussed it with him before: the Weave was in turmoil, catastrophes were descending, and spellcasters—the wealthiest group of all—had lost most of their spellcasting ability. Whether voluntarily or under pressure, some of their treasures were bound to flow onto the market.

“Bring all the valuables. The room isn’t safe,” Bratt reminded them. “Don’t take the compensation promise too seriously. They only pay if they catch the thief. If the thief gets away, they don’t. That said, most people wouldn’t dare steal here.”

“Understood.”

They locked the door and carried their belongings downstairs. The moment they stepped into the guild hall, a piercing alarm rang across half the district.

“They’re fighting! They’re fighting! The underground creatures are attacking Wyrm’s Rock Fortress...”

The hall instantly erupted in noise, and adventurers rushed outside.

Anser frowned. Something felt wrong. The north lay open before the duergar, so why would they insist on taking the fortress by force?

The three left the hall. The avenue was packed with people. They were not far from Wyrm’s Crossing, but the towering fortress stood directly to their north and completely blocked their view of the battle.

“Send your animal companion to look.” Anser patted Finn’s arm.

“Mm.”

Finn’s eyes went blank as he immediately contacted his gray hawk and directed it to investigate.

The Ranger’s Beast Master subclass could summon a Primal Companion. It could take the form of a Beast of the Land, Beast of the Sea, or Beast of the Sky. Marked by primal power, such creatures were far stronger than ordinary beasts.

If a Primal Companion died, its master could revive it or summon another.

Finn’s gray hawk could fly and possessed Darkvision, making it an excellent scout even in darkness. It usually flew high, however, or creatures like stirges might target it.

“The districts and bridge are full of underground creatures. Thousands—perhaps ten thousand. No siege engines. The fighting isn’t intense...” Finn described the scene in halting phrases, his voice tinged with shock.

“They reached the surface that quickly?” Anser’s heart jumped. The Underdark might now connect to the human world, but bringing up a force on that scale was no simple matter.

“Didn’t you say resources are scarce in the Underdark? How can it support so many creatures?” Bratt asked in confusion.

“The upper reaches of the Underdark aren’t too bad. There are underground rivers, fungi, moss, and all kinds of animals.” Anser’s face grew thoughtful. “Still, that number is unusually high. Unless... they prepared for this in advance.”

“The breach in the River Chionthar has been blocked. Underground creatures are guarding it,” Finn added.

“As expected.”

The River Chionthar flowed directly to the sea. Even the Underdark’s vast, layered structure could not withstand an endless flood. If the water continued pouring in, the duergar’s city might suffer a massive collapse.

Thanks to all the honored readers for your support and suggestions!

(End of Chapter)