The War Begins

Joking amongst themselves, the group arrived at the room marked with the number 28. Brat picked the lock, and after they stepped inside to look around, expressions of satisfaction appeared on their faces.

The room was over thirty square meters, reasonably clean, and lacked any foul odors. It contained two large beds, a full set of tables and chairs, and a washroom in the corner. While it lacked a flush toilet, it was equipped with a faucet and a drain, allowing for manual flushing.

Anse nodded, feeling relatively satisfied.

Considering the living environment and the level of security, five silver coins was certainly not expensive.

He stepped into the washroom and was met with a small, cracked mirror. It reflected a face full of spirit: tea-gray hair shimmering with silver light, and skin faintly marked with dragon scales that emitted a subtle, metallic luster.

"Is this me?" The journey had been too rushed; this was the first time he had seen his own appearance.

"No wonder Land didn't recognize me. There are traces of the original owner, but I look like a completely different person."

He was tall and long-limbed, upright and well-proportioned. His features were quite defined, yet they combined to create a gentle, indescribable sense of approachability. His black eyes were dark and profound, full of mystery and possessing a magical allure.

The word "charisma" had become tangible in this moment!

Anse was secretly astonished: "The change in my primary charisma stat is actually this significant."

After indulging in some vanity for a while, he returned to the room.

Brat was currently counting the spoils obtained through "Intimidation"—the first battle since their small team was formed.

There was one decent chainmail, one tabard, three low-quality gems, 37 gold coins, 41 silver coins, and over 100 copper coins.

"A bit meager," he muttered, feeling somewhat unsatisfied.

"It's already quite good." Anse was speechless. The disaster had come so suddenly that surviving was a feat in itself; few people had managed to bring their wealth with them.

"You handle the money." Brat looked serious. "Since we are a team now, we must set rules. We cannot distribute spoils based on emotions."

"What are your thoughts?" Anse didn't know much about this, and the original owner had never experienced it either.

Finn sat over silently, pricking up his ears to listen. Having spent his time in the wilderness, he knew nothing of such things.

Brat pondered, "The rules for every team are different, and there are many influencing factors..."

Generally speaking, spoils are distributed based on contribution; intellect, experience, combat prowess, and overall assistance to the team are all important factors.

"Magic-users" who mastered numerous spells and could resolve various dilemmas usually didn't join adventure parties, but if they did, they were guaranteed certain privileges because their methods for solving problems were so extensive.

After discussing for a long time, they finally decided that the Captain, Anse, would take half of the adventure's earnings, while Brat and Finn would split the remainder equally. Expenses incurred during the adventure would be covered by the team.

In actual adventures and battles, the spoils would be adjusted based on individual contributions.

Anse pulled over the scale mail tabard, pointed his staff at it, and with a short incantation, the bloodstains and grime on the tabard vanished instantly, leaving it looking brand new.

This was the cantrip Prestidigitation. It could create sensory effects, play with fire, clean, soil, create magical marks, or create objects. While the effects weren't powerful, they were highly practical.

"The scale mail tabard is yours. At eighty percent of the market price, let's call it... 40 gold coins. We'll put it on credit for now; you can pay the difference when you have the money. The rest of the funds will be used to purchase supplies and won't be distributed yet. How about that?" Anse proposed.

"Fine..." Neither of them had any objections; this was standard practice.

The core of spoils distribution was "prior agreement by all members" and "immediate settlement after battle." If things were left unclear, a major incident would inevitably occur sooner or later.

With the distribution settled, Anse collapsed onto the bed, relaxing. A wave of exhaustion surged through his body; the battle at the bridge had truly drained him.

"Rest for an hour."

"Alright..."

Anse casually pulled up his character panel. His mana was less than half, and his experience had reached 827/900; he was about to level up.

"Leveling up is certainly fast in the early stages."

He closed his eyes and entered meditation.

They had intended to rest for an hour, but it was nearly two hours later before they began to wake up one by one. Although the previous battle had been brief, everyone had expended a great deal of energy.

Anse rubbed his head, feeling as though the surrounding mana had become even more chaotic.

After gaining "Magic Control," his perception of mana had become increasingly sensitive, and he was certain it wasn't just his imagination.

"Strange, very strange."

He pulled out his pocket watch. The hands had just passed four o'clock, yet it was as dark outside the window as if it were late evening.

"It's a bit stifling; it might rain."

No sooner had he spoken than a flash of white light appeared outside, and a thunderous roar exploded overhead.

Brat was silent for a moment before sighing, "I wonder how many people will die."

Tens of thousands of people were crowded into an urban area that originally held only a few thousand. With a lack of food, water, and shelter, those who were frail would never survive the coming downpour.

Anse understood his sentiment. In his previous life, when his country suffered a massive earthquake, he couldn't help but break down in tears just watching the videos. Regardless of how sharp-tongued one might be in online arguments, it was impossible not to empathize when one's compatriots were suffering.

However, this was another world. Although he had inherited the fragmented memories of the original owner, it was difficult for him to view the others as compatriots. Furthermore, Baldur's Gate was a melting pot of many races—not just humans, but also half-elves, dwarves, halflings, dragonborn...

He shook his head, pushing these thoughts aside. "Let's go buy some supplies and deal with these items while we're at it."

He kicked the bundle, which was mostly filled with heavy weapons and equipment. Brat had suffered quite a bit carrying it all the way here; he should have borrowed a cart from the Old Cleric.

"Let's go, let's go. Maybe we'll find some good loot." Brat immediately became interested.

This was no idle speculation; Anse had discussed it with him. With the Weave in turmoil and Natural Disasters descending, the wealthiest group of spellcasters had lost the majority of their Spellcasting abilities. Whether through passive loss or active choice, a portion of the treasures in their hands was bound to trickle out.

"Bring your valuables with you; the rooms aren't safe," Brat reminded him. "Take the 'guaranteed compensation' with a grain of salt—they only pay if they catch the thief, and they won't pay if they don't. Still, most people don't have the guts to steal here."

"Understood."

The group locked their door and headed downstairs with their belongings. The moment they stepped into the guild hall, a piercing alarm siren rang out, echoing across half the city district.

"They're fighting! They're fighting! Underdark Creatures are attacking Flame Fist Fortress..."

The hall erupted into chaos as Adventurers scrambled toward the exit.

Anse frowned, feeling that something was off. The northern approach was a flat, open plain; why would the Gray Dwarves insist on gnawing at the hard shell of Flame Fist Fortress?

The group stepped out of the hall into a crowded main thoroughfare. They were not far from Flying Dragon Bridge, but being situated south of the towering fortress, they could see nothing of the battle to the north.

"Have your animal companion take a look," Anse said, patting Finn on the arm.

"Mm."

Finn's gaze turned vacant as he immediately connected with his Gray Hawk, directing it to scout the situation.

The Ranger's Beastmaster subclass allowed for the summoning of a Primal Beast, which could be a Land Beast, a Sea Beast, or a Sky Beast. This beast bore the mark of primal power, possessing strength far beyond that of an ordinary animal.

If a Primal Beast died, it could be resurrected by its master, or a new one could be summoned.

Finn's Gray Hawk possessed flight and Darkvision, making it excellent for daytime reconnaissance, though it usually had to fly at a high altitude to avoid being targeted by creatures like Mosquito Bats.

"The city district and the bridge are crawling with Underdark Creatures—thousands, maybe tens of thousands. There are no siege engines, and the fighting isn't intense..." Finn described, his voice laced with shock.

"They made it up here that quickly?" Anse's heart skipped a beat. The Underdark was connected to the human world, but a large-scale ascent was no simple matter.

"Didn't you say the Underdark was resource-poor? How could it support so many creatures?" Brat asked, puzzled.

"The upper levels of the Underdark aren't so bad; they have underground rivers, fungi, moss, and all sorts of animals," Anse's expression shifted. "However, this number is indeed excessive. Unless... they had been preparing for a long time."

"The breach in the Chongsa River has been dammed up, and Underdark Creatures are guarding it," Finn added.

"As expected."

The Chongsa River flowed directly into the sea. Even with the Underdark's multi-layered, three-dimensional structure, it couldn't withstand the deluge; if the water kept pouring in, the Gray Dwarves' cities would likely suffer massive structural collapses.