"I'll kill your horse first—"
The Shadow Thief's mentality completely collapsed. He could still give chase, but his remaining psionic power was nearly exhausted, and he did not dare take the risk.
They were not far from the shoreline. The docks were already packed with people; if they delayed any longer, they would likely be unable to leave. The Shadow Thieves Guild was powerful, but enemies were everywhere.
"Fey Step, upward," Anser urged urgently, afraid that Nornoth might be injured.
Before the Shadow Thief's blade could fall, his vision blurred, and he and the horse simultaneously appeared five or six dozen meters up in the air. Below them was a dense sea of people.
And Anser had already firmly locked onto him.
"ફ્લોટિંગ"
Innate Spellcasting + Metamagic: Quickened Spell + Hold Person!
The Shadow Thief's mind sank, and a wave of numbness surged through his body, but he forcibly dispelled it almost immediately.
In that brief opening, Nornoth's whip-like tail howled past, sweeping both him and the grappling hook off the horse's back, tearing away a bloody strip of flesh.
Anser raised his hand and pointed, bestowing Feather Fall on the Shadow Thief, then, after a two-second interval, bestowed it on Nornoth as well. Due to the difference in speed, the man and the horse instantly pulled nearly twenty meters apart.
At this moment, his face was deathly pale, his head aching terribly. He had only a few points of Magic Power left and did not dare cast another spell.
"Shoot him dead—I'll pay a thousand gold coins—" He took out his holy symbol and shouted toward the crowd below.
Whoosh—
Finn, who arrived first, drew his bow and fired.
Seeing someone take the lead, the other adventurers no longer hesitated. A dense swarm of arrows, throwing axes, and bullets rushed toward the Shadow Thief, who was drifting down at a leisurely pace.
Whoosh, whoosh… Bang, bang…
The Shadow Thief seethed with resentment. Time and again he had been outmaneuvered; his anger completely overwhelmed his reason. But he knew he had no chance this time—staying alive came first.
However, Nornoth's teleportation and whip strike had been deliberately forcing him toward the docks. At this moment, he was still a bit far from the sea's surface. With no other choice, he tanked several arrows head-on and flung his mind blade toward the crowd below at a slant.
Anser had been watching him the whole time. Seeing this, he forcibly focused his mind and activated the Ring of Spell Storing.
Three Scorching Rays flashed through the air, mixed among the arrows, utterly inconspicuous.
[…Shadow Thief elite was hit, took 23 fire damage, current Hit Points 8/68]
"Ah—" The Shadow Thief let out a miserable howl, and his figure instantly vanished in midair.
After all, "Psychic Teleportation" was not as convenient as true teleportation. It first had to shape a soul blade, then throw it; only after the soul blade reached the target location could the teleportation be triggered.
The Shadow Thief's psionic power was already at rock bottom. He wanted to wait until the soul blade reached its destination before teleporting—too greedy.
"Over there—" Anser promptly indicated the direction for the crowd.
The maximum range of psychic teleportation was a bit over twenty meters. Its advantage was catching people off guard; if someone understood this mechanism, they could predict it in advance.
So, the moment the Shadow Thief hit the ground and had only run two steps, a massive axe intercepted him.
He retreated a step to dodge, but then a sword thrust came from behind. He instinctively twisted and slashed upward to parry, and one hand was cut off, blood spraying several meters away.
"Ah—"
"Elite thief—everyone, be careful—"
"Thief" was a general term for rogues, not a reference to the thief subclass alone.
The crowd above regained its composure and retreated one after another, clearing out a wide circle.
The Shadow Thief tore off his tattered hood and tried to reach for his coin pouch, only to discover that the strap had long since snapped. He swept his gaze around helplessly, despair gradually filling his eyes.
'How did it come to this? I clearly had every advantage…'
"What kind of idiot thief dares cause trouble in Silver Scale Bay—courting death!" Ragna roared. Without giving the Shadow Thief any chance to retort, she raised her axe and chopped down.
She had heard that someone was causing trouble at the Silver Scale cargo yards. Having just arrived at the docks, she ran straight into someone pursuing Anser. She wanted to intervene, but for a moment she simply could not keep up.
The two of them were not even moving on foot—one blink after another. They fought from the ground to the sea surface, then blinked from the sea up into the air, leaving onlookers utterly bewildered.
The heavily wounded Shadow Thief was already somewhat weak. Both his defenses and his reactions were far worse than before. Facing Ragna's berserk assault, not to mention parrying, even dodging was difficult.
Never think that barbarians are slow. A barbarian's core attribute is Strength: explosive athletic ability, fast running, high jumps, strong defenses, and even extra "two-hit" capability. At level 2 they already have danger sense, and their reactions are not poor either.
Even if a rogue were two or three levels higher, there was no way to trade blows head-on with a barbarian.
In fact, from the moment the Shadow Thief decided to pursue out to sea and failed to kill Anser quickly, he was already doomed—because Anser had built up a bit of a "reputation" in Silver Scale Bay.
Bang—
With a deft counterstrike using the axe haft, Ragna smashed the Shadow Thief in the chest, knocking him flying. The sound of cracking bones was clearly audible.
The Shadow Thief made no sound. He rolled over and scrambled to his feet, trying to blend into the crowd—only for a throwing axe to slam into the back of his head with a bang, chopping him down to the ground.
The crowd parted as Ragna strolled over. She planted a foot on the Shadow Thief's head, forcefully yanked out the hand axe, casually shook off the brain matter clinging to it, and hung it back at her waist.
"What are you staring at? Those who took part in the fight, stay. Everyone else, disperse."
[…Target dead, gained 810 experience points]
Hearing the combat notification, Anser completely collapsed against Nornoth's back. His mind was foggy, his arms felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds, and the Royal Butterfly Cloak draped over him like a butterfly battered by rain.
If this were a game, he would definitely have an exhaustion status on him right now.
Bratt and Emon, who had rushed over, stood to his left and right, blocking anyone from approaching.
Finn uncorked a healing potion and brought it to Anser's lips. Anser gave a slight shake of his head. "Give it to Nornoth."
Only then did Finn notice a long claw mark across Nornoth's back. A large chunk of scales and flesh had been torn away; if this were on a human, it would at least count as a severe wound.
Nornoth looked simple and honest, but when it came to fighting, it held nothing back. Even when injured, it made no sound—a ruthless one. No, a ruthless fey.
Finn poured an entire bottle of healing potion down it, then poured another bottle directly onto the wound.
Healing potions could be used both internally and externally. A common-quality potion restored 2d4+2—that is, 4–10. For Nornoth, with Hit Points reaching 46, a single bottle was indeed not quite enough. Fortunately, this time it was only a light injury.
Just as Nornoth's injuries began to improve, faint points of light also lit up on Anser's chest. The wounds caused by the mind blade rapidly healed and soon vanished completely.
Between him and Nornoth there was a Life Link—when one of them recovered Hit Points, the other would recover the same amount of Hit Points as well.
This trait was extremely useful. For example, if Anser were gravely injured and on the brink of death, or if he triggered Death Ward and was unable to use potions, then Nornoth drinking a potion beside him would be saving his life. The only uncertainty was whether it would trigger when one side was already at full Hit Points.
Heavy footsteps approached, followed by two loud pats on the saddle—bang, bang.
"Are you okay? You look really wiped out."
Anser opened his eyes, only for Ragna's large face to fill his vision, giving him a start.
He forced himself to pull it together, sat upright, and took a deep breath. "Just a minor issue. You killed a Shadow Thief—aren't you afraid of retaliation?"
"Afraid? Haha…" Ragna seemed to hear something hilarious and laughed for a good ten seconds. "I didn't know fear when I was young. After growing up, I learned to do the right thing at the right time."
"Impressive. Sounds simple, but it's very hard to actually do," Anser said with a slight shake of his head. After going through such a major crisis, he felt a few extra emotions stirring in his heart.
"I've already heard about it. They're searching for those troublemaking adventurers, but quite a few people were injured…" Ragna trailed off halfway through her sentence.
Anser instantly understood. He lifted his head and called out, "Bratt."
"I'm here."
Anser took off the Treasure Coin Pouch and handed it to him. "Those who were injured and those who took part in the fight all get a share. You handle the distribution—don't be stingy."
"Alright, rest easy." Bratt nodded solemnly.
After the smoke appeared, the crowd fell into chaos. In order to save him, Nornoth had knocked into and trampled quite a few people. To say there was no guilt at all would be a lie—but as long as no one died, money could always make some amends.
"You seem to glow when you spend money," Ragna said. Though not surprised, she was still full of admiration.
Aren't professionals busying themselves for money anyway? Perhaps it wasn't so at the beginning, but as they stay busy, they forget their original intentions. So-called dreams gradually fade from the mind, leaving only a bit of selfish desire behind.
Seeing that she did not bring up the spoils, Anser had no choice but to remind her. "I'll pay the bounty. The loot on the Shadow Thief—I get a share."
"I just praised you. Don't worry, it's all yours. The corpse is mine," Ragna said with a grin.
"What do you want the corpse for?" Anser asked, puzzled.
"To verify the identity. If it's on a wanted list, then I've struck it rich. That money won't be shared with you."
"All yours." Anser waved it off. He knew bounty money was not easy to claim, even with Ragna's official status.
Moreover, claiming a bounty would be slapping the Shadow Thieves Guild in the face—they definitely would not let it go.
Clop, clop, clop—light hoofbeats approached. Gwyneth, dressed in a moon-white mage's robe, wore a calm expression, yet her gaze kept circling around Anser.
"Oh? You only show up after it's all over—you really know how to pick your timing," Ragna's expression shifted, her tone suddenly turning a bit sarcastic.
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