Brat, Level 2 Warrior

The Mage Tower had no basement. The ground was too hard to dig into, so the storeroom was on the first floor, making it easier to move supplies.

Anse had lived here for five years and knew it like the back of his hand. He squeezed through the broken door and found the place had already been ransacked. Whoever had done it had been rough, leaving things scattered everywhere.

"Damn it, those Gray Dwarves must've done this."

He cursed under his breath, but his hands moved quickly as he gathered the useful supplies.

Candles, a shovel, soap, a waterskin, ink, a stack of white paper, clothes, a pair of binoculars... Nothing valuable, but all very useful for someone about to flee.

He bundled it all together and tossed it in the hall.

But he couldn't find the rope he needed most.

He had no choice but to muster his courage and run upstairs—to the dormitory, kitchen, Alchemy Room, Meditation Room...

Most rooms had been searched destructively, but not thoroughly. Since he knew the place well, he managed to find quite a few useful things.

Several purses, two Spellbooks, some food, and a coil of rope. The most valuable find was the Spare Staff in Fabian's room.

"Those Gray Dwarves don't know what they're looking at. Or maybe it was those brainless Goblins and Orc Slaves who searched the place. Too bad I couldn't find Fabian's Secret Treasure Chest."

The staff was a full six feet long, nearly as tall as Anse when planted on the floor. It looked like nothing more than a gray-green stick, its surface marked with faint patterns. It was quite unremarkable.

He didn't know Appraisal, so he couldn't immediately identify its properties or how to use it. Still, he could use it as a regular Casting Implement.

His mentor Fabian had once said he'd award the staff to the apprentice who performed best. One empty promise had a whole group of wage slaves working themselves into a frenzy—and paying for the privilege of working, at that.

What a joke!

There were dozens of apprentices in the Mage Tower, most of them with little potential. Some didn't know their own limits, some had ulterior motives, and most simply refused to give up.

To curry favor with Fabian and compete for limited resources, the apprentices constantly schemed against one another, often plotting over positions like Assistant Teacher or purchasing officer. They had no idea these were just Fabian's little tricks.

Anse suddenly thought of Gais, the head Assistant Teacher who had set up the original owner. If he ran into him, Anse wouldn't mind killing him and "inheriting" Fabian's belongings fair and square.

He shook his head, putting those tangled thoughts aside. After changing into fresh clothes and boots he'd found in his room, he packed his valuables into a black leather backpack and slung it over his shoulders with the staff.

He bundled the remaining odds and ends and hid them in a corner outside the Mage Tower, planning to come back for them later.

Carrying the rope, he went to the edge of the Giant Pit and peered down. It was pitch-black below; he couldn't see a thing.

With no other option, he pulled the Glowing Stick from the side of his backpack, lifted one corner of the Black Cloth, and waved it around before quickly wrapping it up again.

"I'm here! I'm here!"

Brat's voice came from below, barely able to hide his excitement.

Holding the rope, Anse surveyed the area and realized the spot directly above the stone pillar wasn't a good place to climb from.

After the Brampton District and East District had collapsed, the Chongsa River had burst its banks. Its mighty waters poured into the Giant Pit from the southwest, forming waterfalls of all sizes. Even after a full day, the flow had only eased a little.

Brat's position wasn't ideal. If he climbed straight up, he'd have to fight the force of the water, which would make the ascent difficult.

Anse moved away from that stretch, went a little over ten meters to the side, and secured the rope to a thick, broken tree trunk.

"Watch the rope!"

With that, he threw it down as hard as he could in Brat's direction.

A few seconds later, the rope went taut, and Brat called back from below:

"I've got it. You don't need to pull; I'll climb up myself."

"All right." Anse smiled faintly. Brat was worried the rope might break from the friction if Anse pulled him up.

He placed the tattered blanket he'd prepared beneath the rope where it hung down, to keep the rocks from wearing through the hemp.

A few minutes later, Brat came into view.

He'd made a safety harness out of his belt, buckles, and the rope. The knot around his waist looked professional, tightening quickly with every step. He climbed slowly but safely, and when he got tired, he could hang from the rock face and catch his breath for a few seconds.

For the final few meters, Anse didn't go to help him. Instead, he stepped back and watched as Brat climbed over the edge, rolled onto the ground, and lay there gasping for breath.

"Thanks. I'm... exhausted..." Brat pushed his unruly hair off his face, revealing a thin, gaunt face, pale lips, and a pair of striking emerald-green eyes.

He hadn't been as lucky as Anse. After the current shifted, he'd been drenched for a long time. He'd lost a lot of strength and was exhausted and hungry.

"You're pretty skilled, Adventurer?" Anse looked him up and down.

"I used to do this. Before last night, I was the head of the Guard Corps at Lingang Hospital. Level 2 Warrior." As he spoke, Brat struggled to his feet, undid the buckle, and coiled up the rope.

"Then you got pretty lucky," Anse remarked.

Lingang Hospital wasn't far from the Mage Tower, but it had vanished beneath the ground. In a disaster of this magnitude, Professionals and ordinary people were no different. Anyone who survived had to be pretty damn lucky.

"Meeting you was the real stroke of luck. I owe you my life." Brat's expression was sincere, and his eyes couldn't help settling on Anse's face.

The tiny Dragon Scales caught the moonlight with an almost imperceptible metallic sheen. You could only notice them up close.

"Come over here and talk." Seeing that Brat had recovered a little, Anse led him to the spot outside the Mage Tower where he'd hidden the bundle.

It was more concealed here, so passersby and Underdark Creatures were less likely to spot them.

Brat carried his longsword, his steps heavy. When he saw the large bundle in the corner, his eyes immediately lit up. "Is there anything to eat?"

"Yeah, but not much."

Anse took a cloth bag from the bundle, pulled out a piece of black bread more than twenty centimeters long and over ten centimeters thick, and tossed it to Brat. Then he took one for himself.

"Brown Sugar Walnut Bread. Now that's good stuff." Brat didn't hesitate and dug right in.

Brown Sugar Walnut Bread, also known as Amu Black Bread, came in many varieties. It was the Mage Tower's standard staple, but for the poor, it was a delicacy they could only enjoy once in a while.

In that respect, Fabian had a bit of a conscience.

Anse was hungry, too. He hadn't noticed it before, but as soon as the soft, sweet, rich bread hit his tongue, hunger surged over him like a wave.

He took out a waterskin and tossed one to Brat.

In the corner, they sat facing each other in silence, focused entirely on eating.

But Anse didn't let his guard down. His ears stayed pricked as he listened for the slightest sound outside.

Brat did the same. He stopped chewing whenever he heard a sound, keeping his longsword close at hand. He was far more alert than Anse.

His eyes occasionally passed over Anse's clothes and staff, and his expression suggested he understood.

After washing down his last bite with some water, he hung the waterskin from his belt and asked quietly, "Are you a Mage from the Mage Tower?"

"More or less. I'm Anse." Anse didn't explain further. "It's dangerous here. What do you think we should do?"

"We can't stay here long. The north and northeast are full of Underdark Creatures, the Chongsa River is to the south, and Dust Eagle Mountain is to the east. We'd be better off taking shelter up on the mountain..." Brat mused.

His plan was to lie low. The Baldur's Gate Council wouldn't stand by and do nothing. Once the Flaming Fist and the Sentinels stepped in, this wave of invaders, mostly Gray Dwarves, would soon be driven back underground.

Even if the leaders of Baldur's Gate couldn't handle it, they could ask the Lords' Alliance for help. Silverymoon, Neverwinter, Waterdeep... Every one of them was powerful.

"The Weave... something's happened to it!" Anse said gravely.

This was the real disaster!

"What?" Brat's eyes widened in shock. Then he seemed to think of something. "Then... how can you still cast spells?"

"The Weave hasn't collapsed yet," Anse explained. "I unexpectedly awakened my Dragon Bloodline and switched to Mana Casting."

Brat lowered his head, his eyes flickering uncertainly. After a long silence, he finally said, "Then you really are a genius."

Clearly, switching from Spell Slots to Mana Casting wasn't easy for Professionals who were used to casting spells through Spell Slots.

"Maybe." Anse didn't know how having a Character Panel set him apart from other Professionals, so he could only answer vaguely.