Level 2 Warrior Brat

The Mage Tower had no basement; the ground was too hard to excavate, so the storage room was located on the first floor for easier transport of supplies.

Anse had lived here for five years and knew the place like the back of his hand. He squeezed through the broken door and found the room had already been ransacked; the work was crude, and items were scattered everywhere.

"Damn it, it must have been those Gray Dwarves."

He cursed under his breath, but his movements remained efficient as he quickly gathered the useful supplies.

Candles, a shovel, soap, a waterskin, ink, a stack of white paper, clothes, a telescope... nothing of great value, but incredibly useful for someone about to go on the run.

He made a large bundle and tossed it into the main hall.

However, the rope he needed most was nowhere to be found.

He had no choice but to muster his courage and head upstairs to the dormitory, kitchen, alchemy room, and meditation room.

Most of the rooms had been destructively searched, but not thoroughly. Being familiar with the environment, he actually managed to find quite a few good things.

Several money pouches, two spellbooks, some food, and a coil of rope; the most valuable item was a spare staff he found in Fabian's room.

"The Gray Dwarves don't know quality when they see it, or perhaps it was those brainless Goblins and Orc Slaves who searched it. It's a pity I didn't find Fabian's secret treasure chest."

The staff was a full six feet long, standing as tall as Anse when propped against the ground. It looked like a dull, grayish-green stick with faint patterns on its surface, appearing quite unremarkable.

He didn't know Appraisal, so he couldn't immediately discern its affixes or how to use it, but he could at least use it as a standard casting implement.

His mentor, Fabian, had once promised to reward this staff to the apprentice with the best performance—a hollow promise used to drive a group of desperate laborers, the kind who even paid for the privilege of working.

How ridiculous!

Of the dozens of apprentices in the Mage Tower, most had little potential; some were delusional, some were treacherous, and most were simply unwilling to give up.

To curry favor with Fabian and compete for limited resources, the apprentices fought incessantly, often scheming against one another for the position of assistant teacher or procurement officer, never realizing these were all just Fabian's petty ploys.

Anse suddenly remembered Gais, the first assistant teacher who had framed the original owner of this body. If he ran into him, he wouldn't mind killing him on the spot and "inheriting" Fabian's belongings in a perfectly justified manner.

He shook his head, casting aside the chaotic thoughts, and changed into the new clothes and boots he had found in his own room. He then packed the valuables into a black leather backpack and slung it over his back along with the staff.

He tied the remaining miscellaneous items into a bundle and hid it in a corner outside the Mage Tower, intending to retrieve it later.

He carried the rope to the edge of the giant pit and peered down; it was a pitch-black void, and he couldn't see a thing.

With no other choice, he pulled a glowing stick from the side of his backpack, uncovered a corner of the black cloth to shake it, and immediately wrapped it back up.

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

Brat's voice came from below, his tone filled with unconcealable surprise.

Anse scanned the area while holding the rope, realizing that the spot directly above the stone pillar wasn't a good position.

After the Brampton District and the East District collapsed, the Chongsa River had burst its banks. The mighty river water poured into the giant pit from the southwest, forming waterfalls of various sizes; even after a full day, the flow had only slightly diminished.

Brat's location was unfavorable; climbing straight up would mean facing the force of the water, which would be quite strenuous.

Anse avoided that area, moved a dozen meters to the side, and secured the rope to a thick, broken tree stump.

"Watch the rope!"

With that, he threw the rope down hard in Brat's direction.

A few seconds later, the rope went taut, and Brat's response came from below:

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

"Good." Anse gave a faint smile; the man was worried the rope might fray if pulled too hard.

He pulled over a tattered blanket he had prepared earlier and placed it where the rope hung over the edge to prevent the stone from chafing the hemp rope.

A few minutes later, Brat's figure appeared in Anse's line of sight.

He had fashioned a safety device using his belt, a buckle, and the rope. The waist rope buckle looked quite professional; it tightened rapidly with every step he took. His speed wasn't fast, but it was safe, and whenever he grew tired, he could hang partially against the stone wall to catch his breath for a few seconds.

For the final few meters, Anse didn't step in to help; instead, he stepped back a few paces and watched him climb up, roll over, and collapse on the ground, gasping for air.

"Thanks... so... tired..." Brat brushed aside his messy hair, revealing a thin face with pale lips and a pair of unique, emerald-green eyes.

He hadn't been as lucky as Anse; after the water flow shifted, he had been drenched for a long time, losing his strength and becoming both exhausted and hungry.

"Very professional. An adventurer?" Anse looked him up and down.

"I used to be. Before last night, I was the captain of the guard at Lingang Hospital, a level 2 warrior." As he spoke, Brat struggled to his feet, unfastened the buckle, and coiled the rope up circle by circle.

"Then you're quite lucky," Anse remarked.

Lingang Hospital wasn't far from the Mage Tower and had already vanished from the surface. In the face of a disaster of this magnitude, there was little difference between a professional and an ordinary person; surviving was definitely a stroke of blind luck.

"Meeting you is the real stroke of luck. I owe you my life." Brat's expression was sincere, his gaze involuntarily focusing on Anse's face.

There, tiny dragon scales shimmered with an extremely faint metallic luster under the moonlight, only noticeable when up close.

"Come over here to talk." Seeing that he had regained a bit of strength, Anse led him to the spot outside the Mage Tower where he had hidden the bundle.

It was more concealed here, unlikely to be spotted by passersby or Underdark creatures.

Brat carried his longsword with heavy steps. His eyes lit up the moment he saw the large bundle in the corner: "Is there food?"

"There is, but not much."

Anse pulled a cloth bundle from his pack, fished out a piece of Brown Sugar Walnut Bread about twenty centimeters long and over ten centimeters thick, tossed it to Brat, and then took one out for himself to eat.

"Brown Sugar Walnut Bread, good stuff." Brat didn't stand on ceremony, clutching it and taking a bite.

Brown Sugar Walnut Bread, also known as Amu Black Bread, came in many varieties and was the staple food of the Mage Tower, though for the poor, it was a delicacy they only tasted occasionally.

In that regard, Fabian still had a bit of a conscience.

Anse was hungry too; he hadn't felt it before, but as the soft, sweet bread entered his mouth, the hunger surged like a tide.

He took out his waterskin and tossed one to Brat.

In the corner, the two sat facing each other, neither speaking, focused only on eating.

However, Anse did not let his guard down; his ears were pricked, constantly listening for movement outside.

Brat was the same, stopping his chewing at the slightest sound, his Longsword kept close at hand; his vigilance was much higher than Anse's.

His gaze occasionally swept over Anse's robes and staff, his expression carrying a hint of realization.

After washing down the last bite of bread with water, he hung the waterskin at his waist and asked in a low voice, "Are you a mage from the Mage Tower?"

"You could say that. I'm Anse." Anse didn't explain much. "It's dangerous here. What are your thoughts?"

"We can't stay here long. To the north and northeast are all Underdark Creatures, to the south is the Chongsa River, and to the east is Dust Eagle Mountain. We'd best take shelter on Dust Eagle Mountain..." Brat mused.

His plan was to hide; the Baldur's Gate Council wouldn't sit idly by. As long as the Flaming Fist and the Sentinels took action, this wave of invaders, led by Gray Dwarves, would soon be driven back underground.

Even if the higher-ups in Baldur's Gate couldn't handle it, they could seek aid from the Lords' Alliance—Silverymoon, Neverwinter, Waterdeep... each possessed formidable strength.

"The Weave... something has happened to it!" Anse said in a deep voice.

That was the true catastrophe!

"What?" Brat's eyes widened in shock, and then, as if realizing something, he asked, "Then... how are you still able to cast spells?"

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

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

Clearly, it was no easy task for a professional accustomed to Spell Slots to switch to Mana Casting.

"Perhaps." Anse didn't know the difference between himself, with his Character Panel, and other professionals, so he gave a vague reply.