The Gray Dwarves had assumed the human spellcasters would run out of strength after casting a few spells. They hadn't expected the spells to keep coming. Their Psionic Spells had a shorter range and couldn't reach their targets, much to their frustration.
Seeing that Anse and the archers posed too great a threat, they wanted to push the battle farther back. But everyone was tangled up in the fighting, and a sudden retreat might trigger a rout.
However, as the Gray Dwarves' slaves were cut down in large numbers, the humans gained the upper hand, and the battle gradually shifted.
Anse surveyed the battlefield. The nearest enemy was now more than forty meters away, beyond the theoretical range of his spells. Yet he could still hit them, though his accuracy had dropped.
It must have something to do with my spellcasting ability.
His spellcasting ability was Charisma, which stood at 16—far higher than an ordinary person's. As his Charisma grew, his casting speed, spell range, and control over magic all improved slightly.
"Whoo—"
He stopped casting and leaned on his staff to steady his breathing and ease the throbbing in his head.
Casting spells one after another had left him mentally exhausted. He had used nearly half his magic, and a faint sense of emptiness had settled inside him.
It seemed that even with Magic Mastery, neither his mind nor his body could handle unleashing all his spells at once.
"Roar—"
Suddenly, a mighty roar shook the mountainsides on either side, sending loose stones rattling down.
Anse started and turned toward the sound. A bald giant over three meters tall had appeared on the battlefield, charging at Land.
"Enlarge!"
The Duergar Warlord had joined the fight.
Anse swiftly hopped down the hillside and jogged toward the battlefield.
Helping out was secondary. Standing on the slope made him too conspicuous, and it would be a problem if he drew the bald giant's attention.
He hurried a few steps, then hid behind the crowd and watched carefully.
On the battlefield, the bald giant swung his warhammer with frightening force. Land focused on dodging, only striking back now and then.
The fight was so fierce that everyone nearby scattered to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.
Anse noticed that Land rarely cast divine spells above the second circle. It was probably because of the Weave, while the Psionics wielded by the Gray Dwarves didn't depend on it.
Fortunately, it was daytime. The Gray Dwarves suffered from sunlight sensitivity, and the Paladin's radiant attacks were especially effective against them. Land could just barely hold his own.
Just then, Zahir finished off his opponent and rushed over to join Land against the bald giant.
Even so, the giant showed no sign of losing his fearsome momentum. He brought his hammer down, and Land couldn't dodge in time. The blow sent him sprawling, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His shield had a clear dent in it.
Too bad I don't know any support spells, Anse thought with a quiet sigh.
He didn't dare attack right now. If the bald giant came after him, Land might not be able to stop him.
By chance, Anse glanced at the sun above the giant's head. A thought struck him. Sunlight sensitivity!
As far as he knew, Gray Dwarves had resistance to poison, Illusion, and charm effects, but suffered a disadvantage to their perception in sunlight.
His Draconic Bloodline's Command Spell forced the target to make a Wisdom Saving Throw. If they failed, they had to obey one command.
His Wisdom probably isn't very high.
With that thought, Anse didn't hesitate any longer. He quickly approached the battlefield, gathering all his magic.
He stepped out from the crowd, planted his staff in the ground with his left hand, and pointed at the Duergar Warlord with his right as he shouted:
"Drop it!"
An invisible magical effect enveloped the bald giant. He visibly froze, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, and instinctively let go of his warhammer.
Land's spirits lifted. Before the warhammer could hit the ground, he stepped forward and kicked it toward Zahir. Zahir snatched it up and hurled it onto the hillside.
The bald giant hadn't expected to lose his weapon in that moment of distraction. He flew into a rage and turned to find Anse, the sneak attacking him from behind, but Anse had already ducked behind the crowd. Brat and the others surged forward, blocking his view.
"Roar... Aagh—"
Land's sword opened a gash in the giant's thigh, cutting off his roar.
The bald giant didn't dare take his eyes off them. He retreated two steps, grabbed a spear from the ground, and forced Land and Zahir back.
Then he waved a hand and ran off!
The other Gray Dwarves and slaves took one look and bolted, without a moment's hesitation.
"Roar! Roar! Roar!"
The humans waved their weapons and put on a show of roaring threats. They didn't pursue—not that they had the strength to.
What a waste of all that Combat Experience, Anse thought with a quiet sigh, though he knew this was the best outcome they could have hoped for.
They had a Paladin like Land on their side. They might have won if they kept fighting, but it was anyone's guess how many of them would have survived.
Anse looked around. Only about ten people were still standing, and nearly all of them were wounded.
Corpses littered the ground. Severed limbs, entrails, and blood covered everything. After those few steps he'd run, his boots were already caked in bloody mud. The sticky sensation made his skin crawl.
"Clear the battlefield, quickly!" Zahir called out. He began treating the wounded with Lay on Hands and Healing Potions.
Anse scanned the area and spotted a Goblin that wasn't quite dead yet. His eyes lit up, and he strode over and clubbed it to death.
[Target killed. Gained 3 Combat Experience...]
It wasn't much Combat Experience, but there was no danger involved. He grinned, baring a row of gleaming white teeth.
Brat shuddered at the sight. "You've got a real taste for killing."
"Let someone else handle this. Take a break."
He hurried over and pulled Anse back, thinking Anse was worried about his parents and taking his feelings out on the Underdark Creatures.
"Uh, all right." Anse didn't insist. It was important to keep up the appearance of being normal.
"Are you hurt?"
Brat was covered in blood, and his clothes were torn. He looked a little alarming.
"I'm fine. Just a minor injury. Thanks for looking out for me." Brat shook his head slightly, but the movement tugged at the wound on his neck, making him suck in a sharp breath.
Footsteps approached. The two turned their heads and saw Land striding toward them, helmet in his left hand. Blood stained the corners of his mouth and his ears, and there was a noticeable dent in his breastplate.
"Thank you both for your help." As he spoke, Land handed Brat a half-full bottle of red potion. "Here, take this."
"Then I won't refuse." Brat smiled and reached out to accept it, but didn't use it right away.
It was a Healing Potion. A full bottle was worth 50 Gold Coin, so even half a bottle was worth a lot.
"Your heroic deeds deserve much more, but I'm nearly out of potions myself." Land praised them, then turned to Anse. "Sir, I feel like we've met somewhere before."
"Uncle Land, I'm Anse Horleywen. Do you remember Sow's Trotter Bakery?" Anse prompted him.
His Dragon Bloodline had subtly altered his appearance and build, and his demeanor was completely different from before. Anyone who didn't know him well would have had a hard time recognizing him.
"You're... little Anse?" Land stared at the tiny Dragon Scales on Anse's face, looking unsure.
They hadn't seen each other in years, and Land couldn't connect the confident, mysterious spellcaster before him with the scrawny boy he remembered.
"That's right. I unexpectedly awakened my bloodline and became a Sorcerer." Anse smiled.
"Good. That's good." Land patted his arm, head bowed and expression complicated. A trace of hesitation lingered in the corners of his eyes.
Land wasn't a tall man, only about 1.7 meters. Anse was half a head taller, so he couldn't see Land's expression, but he could sense that Land had something he wanted to say.
"What's wrong?"
"You... shouldn't go back to the bakery." Land fell silent for a moment, then decided he had to tell him.
Anse's heart skipped a beat. "Did something happen to my parents?"
"Yes. We spent all day yesterday evacuating people. Your parents refused to leave. They wanted to look for you, but a priest talked them out of it. Later, some thugs broke into the bakery to loot it... By the time we found out, it was too late. We could only bury their bodies in a hurry..."
Land gripped Anse's arm tightly, as if afraid he might suddenly lose control.
Anse's breathing grew heavy. His emotions churned, unbearably complicated, but he didn't feel much sorrow or regret. Instead, he felt a sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted.
It wasn't very kind of him, but that was truly how he felt.
After all... he wasn't the original owner.
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