When You're Away from Home, You Give Yourself Your Own Identity

"Why is there a camp here?" Brat asked in surprise. "Don't tell me they plan to settle here? They moved pretty fast."

The camp didn't look like it had just been set up. That meant these people had fled the city immediately after something went wrong in Baldur's Gate.

Anse looked at the pattern on the tents and vaguely felt that it seemed familiar.

He waved his hand. "We'll go around. Let's not cause any misunderstandings."

"All right..."

The people in the camp had also spotted them. Several young adults carrying weapons rushed over while patrolling and blocked the front of the camp.

Anse was just about to speak when he noticed from the corner of his eye that Brat was staring blankly at the crowd, his face filled with surprise.

"Emon—" Brat gripped his longsword and waved it vigorously over his head, his expression excited.

A tough man walked out of the camp. He wore Half Plate and carried a black Battle Axe on his back. Looking at Brat on the slope, he wore an expression of utter disbelief. "Brat?!"

"It's me, it's me!" Brat beamed. He turned to Anse. "This is Emon, the Captain of my old adventuring party. He works at the Stonemason Guild now. He's reliable."

Anse suddenly understood. No wonder the emblem on the lantern had looked familiar. Wasn't that the Stone Face Emblem of the Stonemason Guild?

"Let's go over."

The group walked down the grassy slope. Brat ran several steps and tightly embraced the man coming toward them, the slaps on their backs echoing loudly.

"I thought you were dead." Emon's eyes were slightly red, and his deep voice carried a hint of hoarseness. "The entire Lingang Hospital was gone. There was nothing left but a huge pit..."

"I was lucky enough to survive. The Captain rescued me." Brat grinned nonstop.

"The Captain? Didn't we agree that we wouldn't go adventuring anymore?" Emon's expression shifted slightly.

"Strictly speaking, this wasn't adventuring. It was running for our lives." Brat gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Don't you know what happened in Baldur's Gate? There were monsters everywhere."

"Yeah." Emon's eyes dimmed. How could he not know?

Anse studied the man beside Brat and secretly marveled, He's huge!

The man named Emon stood a full two meters tall. His arms were thicker than Anse's thighs, yet he walked lightly and didn't look clumsy.

At that moment, the Dice displayed the man's information:

[Emon, Human, Level 4 Barbarian (Berserker)]

"Not bad."

Looking at his build, Anse felt that his talent couldn't be lacking either.

After all, bigger meant stronger!

Brat pulled Emon in front of Anse and cheerfully introduced them. "Anse, this is my old Captain, Emon..."

"Hello, Emon." A strange smile tugged at the corners of Anse's mouth.

A Berserker as Captain? Where had he heard that before?

When Emon saw the handsome Noronos, surprise flashed across his face. Then he looked at Anse and immediately felt that the man and horse suited each other perfectly. Someone like him ought to ride a horse like that.

"Haha, hello, current Captain. I'm Emon, the former Captain..." He had taken a liking to Anse and unconsciously made a little joke.

After briefly getting acquainted, Emon introduced Anse and the others to his companions.

Everyone had come from Baldur's Gate, and they had mutual acquaintances, so the atmosphere was fairly harmonious.

Noronos, however, remained standing beside Anse the entire time, and everyone was somewhat afraid to approach him.

Emon was the leader here. It was obvious that the others respected him greatly.

He invited everyone to the camp's "reception room," which was actually just a pile of wooden stumps in the open air with a rough plank placed on top. The tents were too small and only large enough for sleeping.

"How are things in the city now?" Emon asked urgently.

"Not very good. A lot of people died..." Brat glanced at Anse and began recounting everything that had happened recently.

He had a real talent for storytelling. His narration was full of twists and suspense, prompting repeated gasps from those around him.

In his version of the story, Anse became the protagonist, appearing at every critical moment, slaughtering countless enemies, and becoming the hero who turned the tide when all seemed lost.

He successfully earned a crowd of admiring gazes. Even Emon's expression changed.

Sure enough, when you're away from home, you give yourself your own identity!

What had clearly been an escape—or an unavoidable course of action—had instead become the epic of a brave hero who risked his life to save humanity.

Anse maintained a stoic expression and pretended to be an expert, but inside he was dying of embarrassment. He repeatedly signaled to Brat with his eyes, but Brat assumed he hadn't provided enough "details" and became even more enthusiastic.

He could do without this "mouthpiece."

He simply used going to the bathroom as an excuse to leave the outdoor reception room and took the opportunity to secretly observe the surroundings.

The camp had been placed in an excellent location. The ground was high and firm, with no snakes or insects, and water was easy to obtain. The forest was not far away on the opposite bank, and wild beasts generally wouldn't recklessly wander in.

The surrounding land was fertile, with signs of cultivation. Withered rice grains and vegetables were mixed among the weeds.

There were probably more than forty people in the camp. The elderly, children, and women made up half of them, and many had their entire families with them. It truly hadn't been easy for Emon to bring them all out safely.

When he finally ambled back, everyone was waiting for him. The moment they saw him, they all stood up.

"Emon, are you planning to settle here?" Anse asked.

"We're just staying here for now. We came here by following the map and found that, for some reason, this place had been abandoned. We were also worried about exhausting our supplies, and since the season is suitable, we thought we'd plant some vegetables or something..." Emon's voice was deep, and he spoke with great organization.

The Giant Red Deer was a large celestial creature rarely seen in Faerun.

"How come you aren't staying in the village? Do you know the people there?" Anse pressed.

"Many of the houses in the village are unsafe. Most can't withstand the wind and rain, and the well has dried up, so getting water is inconvenient. I don't know the group you're talking about either, but they were already in the village before we arrived yesterday." Emon's expression grew solemn.

Anse lowered his gaze slightly. There had to be someone among those Amnians who belonged to the evil alignment. He was worried that they harbored ill intentions, but they had arrived so long ago that it was impossible for them to have come specifically to block his group.

After all, even Anse himself hadn't known he would come here today.

"Do the numbers match the footprints?" Anse asked Finn.

Finn shook his head. "It's hard to say. The torrential rain destroyed many of the traces."

"Could they be smugglers?" Brat guessed.

Smuggling had been rampant in Cloakwood Forest and Scornubel near the river mouth for who knew how many years. It was practically an open secret.

"Possible." Emon's expression became grave. "As long as they don't provoke us, we'll pretend we didn't see them."

He had to take responsibility for his brothers in the Stonemason Guild and didn't want to cause trouble.

Anse smiled faintly. He didn't agree, but he also couldn't say much.

Faerûn had never been peaceful. Divine authority, faith, politics, magic, races, survival, planes, desire, money... the conflicts and opposition were all incredibly fierce.

Harmony was temporary. Conflict was the dominant theme.

The Goddess of Magic was both "well-behaved" and "homebody," but when had disaster and conspiracies ever spared her?

Even if you didn't cause trouble, others would cause trouble for you. Someone could draw a blade and hack at you just because they disliked the look of you, let alone when you might unknowingly get in someone else's way.

As evening drew near, everyone was tired as well, so Anse and the others decided to stay for the night.

They chose an empty patch of land on the western side of the camp and set up their tents. Emon also sent people to help.

By the time they finished, two bonfires had been lit in the camp. A large iron pot hung over one of them, simmering rice porridge with a burbling sound, though it looked rather watery.

More than a dozen foot-long strange fish were roasting side by side over the other bonfire, with several long loaves of bread piled around them.

Emon invited the group to a crude wooden table, looking somewhat embarrassed. "No one here has much experience surviving in the wild. We only managed to catch a few fish."

Anse caught sight of the holes in the fish and snickered inwardly.

They had clearly been speared. Those air force guys were so desperate to save face.