Tang Qi was about to leap when Hope suddenly called out:
"Wait, wait!"
"If you don't want to go down, you can head back yourself."
There was no way Tang Qi would let those bandits escape—
Never mind the assassins that night. Dawn had just had her body repaired for eight hundred gold coins, and these thugs' ambush had nearly wrecked it again.
One way or another, he was going to make them pay for those losses!
"No, I mean there's still a body here."
Hope pointed at the decapitated sorcerer and reminded him,
"He might have something we can use!"
Only then did Tang Qi catch on. Watching the "flying squirrels" sink into the abyss and disappear, he realized that even if they used Feather Fall to descend slowly to the bottom, they probably couldn't keep up with the bandits' gliding speed—
Feather Fall didn't let them float; it merely slowed their descent, allowing them to fall straight down.
On reflection, rushing seemed pointless. Tang Qi could only nod.
"We know they're heading deeper into the gorge anyway. Let's strip his clothes off first."
These standard Red Scarf Gang flying squirrel suits covered their wearers completely. With their masks on, they were almost impossible to tell apart, so collecting a set of outerwear was bound to be useful.
Only after stripping off the sorcerer's outer clothes and removing his mask did Tang Qi get a good look at his face—a human man, rather handsome, the sort who could probably get half-price service from the ladies at a brothel.
Generally speaking, sorcerers, bards, and even warlocks tied their spellcasting to their personal charisma—it gave them confidence, making it easier to bring out their magic's full potential.
This tended to show in their looks, so they generally weren't particularly ugly.
Even