Flame Fist and the Fortress

Anse started, his relief only coming once he looked up and recognized the newcomer. "Finn."

"Run—" Finn sprinted over, grabbing Brat from the other side to help him up.

"Wait..." Brat raised a hand to stop them, took a deep breath, and forcibly triggered his Second Wind.

A series of teeth-grinding bone-snapping sounds followed. His chest slowly leveled out and his breathing smoothed, though he was drenched in sweat, his veins bulging and his jaw muscles trembling from the agony.

Anse knew he was using the Second Wind to set his bones; Healing Potions were different from a Healing Spell, and without prior bone-setting or stitching, they risked healing crookedly.

"Eat one." He pulled out three Magic Berries and handed one to each of them.

Second Wind consumed one's own stamina and energy, while Magic Berries could replenish a full day's nutrition, making them more useful than Healing Potions in certain situations.

"Move—"

They hurried out of the house and onto the bridge. Land and the others had already retreated that far, barely twenty or thirty meters away.

They couldn't take the rooftops; it would make them easy targets. With Land's group providing cover on the bridge, it was relatively safer.

Seeing that the others were unharmed, Land's expression softened slightly. He waved for them to retreat quickly while he and his men began tearing down the houses without restraint to construct obstacles.

The pace of the retreat accelerated sharply.

Healing Potions were truly the essential miracle drug for low-level professionals; the effect was surprisingly good.

The two of them supported Brat for a hundred or two hundred meters, and by then, his breathing had stabilized and his limbs felt strong enough for him to jog on his own.

By this time, they had essentially shaken off their pursuers. The Duergar Slaves were crowded onto the narrow bridge, blocked in front and unable to pass through the back, leaving the Duergar cursing in frustration but utterly helpless.

Approaching Dragon Rock, Anse looked up at the towering Flame Fist Fortress. It was indeed magnificent, with ballistae on every level of the ramparts and several catapults on the roof.

There were many Flaming Fist Soldiers on the walls, yet after such a long rearguard battle, not a single one had come out to support them. That gate had never been raised, leaving the Church Convoy and the many fleeing refugees stranded outside.

"A bunch of cowards!" Brat growled in a low voice, his usual composure gone.

Having escaped death, he found the Flaming Fist's inaction increasingly intolerable.

Minutes later, the group arrived before the fortress. The gate finally opened slowly, and the refugees swarmed in like a hive, with Anse and the others bringing up the rear.

The gate stopped halfway up, and as soon as everyone was inside, it slammed shut immediately, demonstrating a level of cowardice taken to the extreme.

The passage was exceptionally dim. The wall lamps were unlit, relying entirely on the faint light shining in from the other end of the tunnel.

Anse cast a Light Spell on his staff. The staff transformed into an ambient light tube, its bright white glow instantly dispelling the darkness and illuminating... the floor covered in refugees and the wounded.

The refugees were too exhausted to run, the wounded were unable to move, and even Land and Zahir were covered in injuries.

Berg arranged for the Priests to take out medical supplies to save the people, stitching wounds on the spot with rough but practiced hands. It seemed the followers of Tyr were good for more than just fighting.

Anse and the others sat against the wall, watching the chaotic scene, each lost in their own thoughts, and for a time, no one spoke.

"How are you feeling?" Anse turned to look at Brat, his eyes filled with a hint of emotion.

He had saved Brat back then, and in a roundabout way, Brat had saved him too. The power of that javelin was immense; his Shield Spell might not have been able to withstand it.

"Heh heh..." Brat tilted his head, staring at the Scale Glow on Anse's face, saying nothing but chuckling incessantly.

Finn sat on Anse's other side, his eyes flickering. "Are you of the Lawful Good alignment?"

"Me?" Anse turned his head, meeting his gaze. "I am Absolute Neutral."

The Nine Alignments were not labels devised by man, but the fundamental laws of the Multiverse, manifested in the Divine Domain, magical effects, and the Outer Planes (such as the Lawful Good Mount Celestia or the Chaotic Evil Abyss).

This was basic knowledge for any professional, especially for Paladins, Druids, and Clerics, as it concerned their lives and their futures.

"Huh?" Finn and Brat exclaimed in surprise at the same time.

Finn sat up straight. "But you've been saving people the whole time."

"I saved Brat because he helped me; I saved him because I wanted to," Anse explained with a smile. "Not to mention the earlier battles, the rearguard action just now wasn't about saving others—it was about saving ourselves."

"Couldn't we have just run?" Finn looked at him, full of confusion.

"Run where?" Anse rolled his eyes at him, gaining a new perspective on his intelligence. "If Land and his men hadn't made it back, do you think we would have been able to cross that gate?"

The Flaming Fist might stop commoners or an Adventurer, but no matter how brainless they were, they wouldn't have blocked Land and his companion outside.

"It wouldn't have come to that, right?" Brat's tone was hesitant.

"Heh, who knows." Anse seriously suspected that if they hadn't shaken off the pursuit, the Flaming Fist would have blocked them out and watched as everyone was slaughtered.

Finn and Brat looked uncertain, but they believed him for the most part.

The Flaming Fist had a long history. Although there had been some accidents, they were mostly under the direct command of Grand Duke Raven Guard. They weren't exactly impartial, but they were certainly a competent police force.

Especially after the treacherous Vansampur Family was purged and the Council of Four became the Council of Three, their stability had actually increased. Furthermore, the Grand Duke's successive heirs had been decent; they might not have been exceptional, but at least they hadn't caused any disasters.

The relatively stable environment kept the Flaming Fist away from turmoil, their core tenets remained intact, and their reputation had never been poor.

But one could not judge the actions of a person or an organization during a catastrophe based on their usual behavior.

Just based on the Flaming Fist's turtle-like behavior over the past two days, Anse concluded that they were unreliable, and he couldn't help but overthink things.

After a long silence, Finn spoke up, looking somewhat troubled. "I am Lawful Neutral. We... don't have an alignment conflict. How about... we stick together?"

Anse looked at Brat, who shrugged. "You decide."

"Fine, but I'm the Captain." Anse took the lead without hesitation.

"Very well..." The two nodded readily.

Alignment did not strictly dictate party formation, but it did influence synergy and the level of trust between members.

All three were of neutral alignments; Brat was Neutral Good, and Finn was Lawful Neutral.

Neutral Good creatures would help others whenever possible and act within the limits of the rules, yet they were not bound by them.

Brat certainly fit this description well; he was usually quite carefree, but when trouble arose, he truly stepped up.

Lawful Neutral individuals followed a set code of conduct, perhaps derived from laws, traditions, or personal creeds, and they would not be swayed by the pleas of those in distress or the temptations of evil.

Finn was clearly more reclusive and somewhat self-centered, speaking more only when facing Anse—he was likely a fan of good looks.

After all, Anse was a charming person who could captivate both men and women alike!

As they chatted and laughed, the topic inevitably drifted back to the current disaster.

"Why do you think those Underdark creatures ran up here? They're afraid of the light, yet they insist on coming up—it's quite amusing," Brat remarked with a scoff.

"Perhaps the location of the collapse just happened to be a settlement for Gray Dwarves," Anse guessed randomly. "Resources in the Underdark are scarce; they might just be here to pillage, or perhaps they intend to settle. With the Weave in chaos, the psionics of the Gray Dwarves remain unaffected, so the situation is very favorable for them. However, you're wrong about one thing: many Underdark creatures are sensitive to sunlight and dislike it, but that doesn't necessarily mean they fear it."

"You... know quite a lot?" Finn asked, curious.

"I read it in books. You know, the Underdark—I know a thing or two," Anse said casually, though in truth, the original owner had never read such books.

However, he was extremely familiar with DND and could be considered a semi-expert. Conversely, locals like Brat had limited ranges of activity and shallow knowledge, knowing very little about the world beyond human lands.

As they were speaking, a flurry of chaotic footsteps echoed through the corridor.

A dozen warriors clad in uniform Studded Leather Armor strode into the passage, wielding Sword and Shield, and began to rudely drive the crowd away the moment they arrived.

"Get up, get up..."

"From now on, the fortress is locked down. No one is allowed to remain..."

"Move quickly, don't force me to use violence..."

"..."