Anser opened his eyes. His body felt light, his muscles strong—it felt fantastic.
Every level-up was a sublimation of life itself, giving him the sensation of breaking free from shackles and restraints, transcending the mundane.
'Extraordinary? Strictly speaking, legend is only the beginning of the extraordinary.'
After a brief sigh of emotion, he brought up his character sheet to check his attributes.
His Hit Point had reached 54. Coincidentally, his Magic Power was also 54—enough to cast ten Fireball spells, making him just a little more enduring.
His Charisma was 20, and his Constitution had reached 16. One point of that came from the Carved Dragon Scale Amulet's enhancement, though its effect differed from that of conventional equipment and could be regarded as a natural attribute.
His Armor Class was 17, on par with a young dragon. However, he rarely relied on dodging—he specialized in sheer toughness.
'This panel… it's getting more and more luxurious.'
His level-up experience had surged by a large margin: 16483/23000. It looked difficult—though in truth, it wasn't easy either.
If not for having a human city as backing today, he truly wouldn't have dared to take such risks.
But his leveling speed had not slowed. The main reason was that Fireball was simply too powerful—it was practically a harvesting tool for experience.
'A few more wyverns and I'll level up again.'
He chuckled at the thought. Wyverns weren't very intelligent, but they had commanders; they were unlikely to fall for the same loss twice.
When they came again next time, their lineup would probably be unprecedentedly strong.
However, now was not a good time to leave. Having suffered a heavy loss, the other side would certainly keep a close watch on him—if he left the city, he would immediately be hunted down.
To the east lay nothing but wilderness, with no reinforcements or cover. Facing the joint encirclement of a wyvern guard, he truly had no confidence in escaping safely.
'For now, I'll stay and lie low. I've just taken their benefits—leaving immediately wouldn't be appropriate.'
If the situation turned unfavorable, disguising himself and blending into the populace to escape would not be difficult.
He stood up and noticed a pile of items placed in the corner of the hut. Among them, a pair of battle blades was particularly eye-catching.
These were the half-dragon's weapons.
'The design is pretty cool.' He picked them up and examined them carefully.
They were a pair of single-edged swords.
The dice rotated slightly, quickly detecting their information.
[Dragon Gold Slashing Swords], dwarven-made, Rare quality, +2 magic weapons—meaning Attack Roll +2 and Damage Roll +2.
In practical terms, they struck faster, pierced armor, and dealt powerful damage.
In addition, they possessed a self-repairing property: if damaged, placing them in a treasure chest filled with gold coins would restore them to perfect condition.
These things were extremely valuable—even comparable to magic weapons of Exotic quality.
'Keep them for now.' A flicker of joy rose in Anser's heart.
Since he was preparing to build a faction, he had to keep scarce resources—who knew, maybe he could even lure in a few elite adventurers with just these two blades.
The half-dragon's armor was also decent. It was a heavy armor suit of splint armor, Rare quality, but it lacked a helmet and boots. It was partially damaged and would need repair and resizing before it could be used.
The last item was a [Ring of Feather Falling], Rare quality, with only one effect: when falling, it would descend slowly and would not be injured by the fall.
Reaching Rare quality with nothing more than a Feather Fall effect sounded somewhat unbelievable, but it really was a sought-after item—martial classes all wanted it.
In fact, before the Weave incident, items like this were not expensive. Many Common magic items even came with Feather Fall, like feather fall coins and the like.
After the Weave incident, many magic items that required actively casting spells stopped working, and this thing's value became even higher.
'Three Rare magic items—not bad.'
Rare quality was high-end goods that only many elite adventurers could get their hands on. Exotic quality was far too rare; without some luck and financial power, it was hard to obtain.
Anser set the items aside, stood up, and left Leomund's Tiny Hut.
Bratt still had not returned, and Finn was standing guard outside.
In the corner of the city wall dozens of meters away, a lot of people were gathered. Faintly, he could make out Giant Tail's silhouette.
"He's with Sandray, skinning it and letting the blood," Finn said as he toyed with his dagger, looking a little eager to join in.
"Uh… that… that's about enough, isn't it?" Anser frowned slightly, finding it a bit hard to watch.
A half-dragon was, after all, a humanoid intelligent creature. Yet those adventurers treated the half-dragon's corpse no differently than a pig or a dog—watching with great interest, not the slightest bit uncomfortable.
Finn said nothing, only chuckling under his breath.
Anser swept his gaze around. The south of the city seemed even livelier. After he came out, he had no idea how many people's eyes—deliberately or not—were turning toward him, their meaning unclear.
The previous battle had taken place in the air. By now, it was probably common knowledge; many adventurers all knew that an impressive spellcaster had come to Bluewater City.
That was a rarity, especially to those adventurers. After all, Abeir had no Weave; after the two worlds merged, spellcasters under the iron sky couldn't even sense spell slots, let alone cast spells.
A few minutes later, Giant Tail ran over carrying a pile of soggy, mushy stuff to present as treasure, only to be waved away by Anser.
Seeing this, Sandray laughed loudly. "These things are really in demand, you know. Want me to find you a buyer?"
Dragons were creatures that came with an innate aura of legend. So long as it had anything to do with dragons, it would be sought after by adventurers and the upper class.
It was said that many magical rituals required dragon meat and dragon blood, and one could even use them to seize a dragon's Magic Power.
"Sure." Anser could not have asked for more; this stuff was truly useless to him.
Dragon blood could break a dragon hoard curse, but that clearly stated that it required true dragon blood. Blood from a half-dragon or a wyvern and the like probably would not work.
"Tim invited a few of you to stay temporarily at the estate. He even specifically cleared out a villa…" Sandray's expression was warm; when he smiled, the wrinkles on his face deepened.
At the end of the day, the cause of today's battle lay with Cliff Keep. Anser being targeted was not due to personal reasons.
Moreover, his deliberate act of leaving the estate to avoid letting the battle implicate Tim's family had also earned him goodwill throughout Cliff Keep.
"Sure." Anser did not refuse.
Leomund's Tiny Hut had decent protection, but the space was too small, and it was not as comfortable as a villa.
The group packed up and headed for Tim's small estate. This time the sky was completely clear, with no wyvern harassment.
Sandray sent someone to notify Bratt, lest he go to the wrong place.
Riding on horseback, Anser felt that the atmosphere in the city had eased considerably; it was no longer so oppressive.
He did not think it was his own credit. An elite spellcaster was pivotal in small-scale skirmishes, but in this kind of large-scale warfare involving tens of thousands, it was still not enough to change the overall situation.
Sandray seemed to see through Anser's confusion and smiled mysteriously. "Candlekeep has sent people."
"When did they arrive? How many? How strong are they?" Anser pressed, his face full of curiosity.
"I just heard it from Tim as well." Sandray waved his hand. "The specifics aren't clear. I reckon they arrived not long ago. The city lord's council just sent someone to notify Tim to attend a meeting—probably about this."
"Mm." Anser stroked his chin, his expression unreadable.
Daring to release an uncertain piece of news to soothe public sentiment—the Claw City-State was truly out of options, or were they playing a game of moral leverage?
Once this news spread, ordinary people would place part of their hopes on Candlekeep. If the city fell and Candlekeep did not contribute, then the resentment and blame might have to be borne halfway.
Tim's small estate was not far, and they arrived quickly.
Tim's wife, together with their daughter, personally came out to greet them, arranging meals and lodging and treating them entirely as honored guests.
It was not until around noon that Bratt returned, followed by several blue-armored warriors carrying a few large chests, the smell of blood heavy in the air.
Looking at the chests placed at the entrance of the villa, Anser frowned slightly. "You didn't bring back all the wyvern meat and entrails, did you?"
"No, no." Bratt waved his hands repeatedly, eyes wide with excitement. "Inside are dragonhide, the dragon head, dragon blood, venomous stingers and the like. We didn't take the other stuff…"
Baron had stepped forward with the vanguard to handle it—there was no way they would have worked for nothing.
Anser smiled helplessly. "I reckon buyers will come knocking. Keep an eye out."
"No problem." Bratt grinned like a thief, not because of the spoils, but because personally "slaughtering" a dragon had truly been exhilarating.
Among everyone in this city, how many had ever seen a wyvern before?
When they had just butchered the wyvern, the crowd had been like a sea of people—lively beyond measure.
If wyvern meat had not contained toxins and thus been unfit for direct consumption, auctioning the dragon meat on the spot would have made a great profit.
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