Osborn seemed unwilling to talk about this and proactively changed the subject. "There are over thirty magic ships docked in the harbor district. I had people verify with the port authority—so far, no sign of that group of star pirates' vessel."
"Thanks. They probably came via teleportation. No need to keep checking."
As he spoke, Anser opened the dragonhide pouch. Gold bars flew out one after another, and after catching them, he stacked them neatly on the dining table.
A full hundred bars—five thousand gold coins in total.
"Th-This… for me?" Alton was both shocked and delighted.
"Yes. Is it enough?" Anser smiled, though his mood remained calm.
After having handled hundreds of thousands of gold coins, a few thousand no longer stirred any waves in his heart.
"It's too much, too much…" Alton rubbed his hands excitedly, his eyes flickering with hesitation, unsure how much he should keep.
His burrow home hadn't suffered much damage. The biggest loss was alcohol, followed by food and furniture—at most worth one or two thousand gold coins.
It might not even be as valuable as that potion of superior healing Anser had given him.
"As long as it's enough." Anser stood up. "I'm leaving. Hopefully next time I come, your tavern will look completely new."
He was very interested in the Rock of Bral, but time didn't allow him to stay here long.
Osborn was taken aback and asked in confusion, "How are you leaving? Do you need me to find you a reliable magic ship?"
"Teleportation." Anser looked at Alton, who was still grinning from ear to ear. "I'll borrow your tavern."
Casting Teleportation Circle required a full minute—having a quiet, undisturbed space was essential.
"Use it however you like." Clutching the gold bars, Alton waved generously.
After saying goodbye to the two, Anser went alone to the messy burrow tavern.
He planned to first check the teleportation circle marked for the Rock of Bral—it might not be an official one.
After clearing out a simple area, he began casting Teleportation Circle using Metamagic: Empowered Spell.
The coordinates: the Rock of Bral.
Unlike traditional wizards who draw runes stroke by stroke, everything here was constructed from magic power. Under the guidance of his mind, runes and array patterns were inscribed directly into the ground, forming a circular magic array about three meters in diameter.
'Easier than expected.'
At the end of the day, Teleportation Circle was just an applied skill. Understanding the theory wasn't necessary—getting the pattern right was enough.
He cast another spell, summoning an air elemental.
As expected, this air elemental was also a new face—its body composed of dark green miasma, not particularly pleasant to look at.
Anser activated the Teleportation Circle. A glowing portal opened within the array, through which a pitch-dark room could faintly be seen.
This was the proper Teleportation Circle. The Teleportation Cube was just a simplified version—it couldn't sustain a portal for long.
'So it really is a private circle?'
A hint of excitement stirred in his heart.
With a wave of his hand, the air elemental surged into the portal like a gust of wind.
Just a few seconds later, an abstract green hand formed from mist extended out of the portal, waving at him repeatedly.
Anser chuckled. He hadn't expected this air elemental to be so lively.
He stepped through the portal with Maeve. The portal behind them immediately dissipated, leaving only a dim circular mark on the ground.
The crisp sound of leather boots striking stone echoed through the dim room, making the square underground chamber feel even more empty.
The air elemental shrugged, spreading both hands. "No one." (Auran)
"Mm."
Anser scanned the surroundings, then walked through the open doorway into a small hall. Following a stone staircase upward for seven or eight meters, he arrived at a spacious bedroom.
The room was in complete disarray, a total mess. Cabinets and drawers had been opened, as if the place had been violently looted.
His gaze passed through the window. He saw an enormous sun hanging in the sky—so large it looked as if it might fall at any moment—and at the extremely distant horizon, he could even make out the boundary of Wildspace, like a flowing galaxy.
'Still on the Rock of Bral!'
He walked around the place, confirming his judgment once more.
This was a three-story stone building, covering over a hundred square meters, located on a back street. The exit led into a narrow alley, but from the third-floor window, one could overlook a bustling main street dozens of meters away.
But now, there was nothing left here. Anything even slightly valuable had been completely looted. Even the magic circle bore several slashing marks—fortunately, it hadn't been destroyed.
'A meal left half-eaten, and the door lock wasn't broken…' After making a circuit, Anser roughly understood what had happened.
This had been one of Starfiend's key strongholds, likely still garrisoned by trusted subordinates. But when news came that Starfiend had been blasted to death in the Burrows district, the star pirates grabbed what they could and fled.
'Heh… talk about perfect timing.' Anser grinned strangely.
Starfiend must have obtained the Teleportation Cube quite a while ago—after all, constructing a permanent Teleportation Circle took a full year.
'The Teleportation Circle in Waterdeep might also be a private one. A cunning rabbit has three burrows… now they all fall into my hands.'
He shut the doors and windows. Without sparing magic power, he cast Arcane Lock on every single door and window—just him and the cat working together.
There was no way he would abandon this place. If the authorities of the Rock came to reclaim it, he would simply buy it.
'I'll need to station people here as well.'
After inspecting the place once more and confirming nothing had been overlooked, he returned to the basement.
There was only one Teleportation Circle in the basement, directly connected to the one on Whitesand Island, the star pirates' base.
He didn't leave immediately. Instead, he cast another Teleportation Circle beside it, setting the destination to Waterdeep.
One minute later—the portal failed to open!
'Could it be an official circle on that side? Or has someone restricted access permissions?' He shook his head slightly, feeling a bit of regret. He was extremely curious about Waterdeep.
Knowing the rune sequence of a Teleportation Circle wasn't enough to open a portal—you also needed permission from the other side. Many circles simply denied access to outsiders.
'Looks like I'll have to build my own.'
He let out a quiet sigh, activated the portal leading to Whitesand Island, and in an instant, man, cat, and air elemental all vanished from the basement.
A flash of light passed before his eyes, and a familiar scene came into view. Beneath his feet, the Teleportation Circle's glow receded, gradually returning to stillness.
"Why is no one guarding this?" Seeing the empty room, Anser felt a bad premonition.
He pushed the door open. The corridor was deserted. Faintly, he could hear a chaotic din—shouts, bowstrings, running footsteps…
"Go help!"
The moment he finished speaking, the air elemental shot off down the corridor, leaving behind a streak of green afterimage.
Anser cast Fly on himself and sped out of the hall. The sounds of intense battle immediately flooded his ears.
He rose into the air and looked out—the fighting at the city gate was fierce. Salian, Bratt, Lin Qiancheng, and the others stood atop the walls, jointly resisting an assault of over a hundred attackers, including twenty to thirty minotaurs.
'Where did those minotaurs come from?'
His heart jolted.
It was early morning—the battle must have only just begun. The gate was still intact, and no one had breached the walls yet.
Lin Qiancheng was, after all, a high-level mage—even just using cantrips, he could suppress ordinary professionals.
Without him, the enemy would likely have already taken the walls.
The air elemental was extremely fast—it had already reached the airspace above the battlements. After a brief observation, it decisively dived into the crowd.
A miasmic whip lashed out—thunder roared.
"Anser's back—!" Salian shouted in delight upon seeing this.
He had been on the verge of giving up. There were simply too many enemies—he had no confidence in holding the line.
Before Anser even arrived, a deep, authoritative Draconic chant had already resounded across the battlefield:
"બિગબીહાથ"
A massive palm, nearly five meters tall and shimmering with magical light, appeared in the air. Its five fingers spread wide as it slammed down from above.
Boom—!
With a deafening crash, the ground trembled. Five or six minotaurs were smashed straight into the earth, thick blood mixed with organs and filth squeezing out from the edges.
The hand lifted, leaving behind a deep, blood-soaked handprint in the ground.
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