"Evan, someone's trying to assassinate you. Be careful..."
Without wasting a second, Anser immediately cast Sending to warn Evan.
The spell went through successfully, which meant Evan was still alive, but no reply came back.
He immediately sent another Sending to the Archdruid named Kristin. The message reached its destination as well, but the only response he received was the furious roar of a wild beast.
Just then, the sky suddenly blazed with light.
Everyone turned toward it.
A massive pillar of radiance descended from the heavens, landing in the direction of the Upper City.
The pillar shone with the pure brilliance of moonlight, its silvery glow spreading in every direction as it endured without fading.
"That's the Temples District!" Osborn exclaimed. As a local, he knew Rock of Bral like the back of his hand.
Something had happened to the Church of Selûne.
Everyone reached the same conclusion at once.
That moonlight... it was a divine miracle!
"Let's go take a look!" Nefis said without the slightest hesitation, despite having insisted earlier that the Magic Research Society should remain neutral.
Perhaps she had reached some sort of agreement with Brunhilde. The battle between the Chosen had become unavoidable.
Mason and the other members of the mage corps immediately turned and sprinted toward the Upper City without hesitation.
Stoll remained where he was, leaning on his greatsword.
He didn't care about any of that.
Anser's safety mattered far more.
If anything happened to Anser, Iris would probably skin him alive.
Anser's spirits lifted as Evan's reply suddenly echoed in his mind.
"Thanks for the warning. I'm fine. The attackers have been driven back..."
Nefis paused and raised a hand, signaling the others to stop.
She had probably received Evan's message as well.
After a moment's thought, however, she still dispatched Mason with the Golems and part of their forces to investigate.
The core of their strength remained behind.
Both Brunhilde and Anser were here, and she was more concerned about a second wave of attacks.
'A preemptive strike... The Chosen of Bane is a clever one.'
With a wave of his hand, Anser dismissed the Forcecage.
He and Stoll descended to the ground, while the thief's corpse floated beside him atop Tenser's Floating Disk.
Osborn, Nefis, Brunhilde, and the others gathered around, their expressions much more relaxed than before.
They had only witnessed part of the fight, but Anser's tactic of trapping his enemy inside a Forcecage and blasting him to death from the outside had been an eye-opener.
It looked fascinating.
For the prisoner inside, however, it had been nothing short of black comedy.
"That guy must have hated you with a passion. You really shouldn't be living alone anymore," Nefis said with concern.
"It's fine." Anser waved it off.
"Who was he?" Brunhilde stepped closer, curiously examining the dark golden dagger.
It wasn't that she was unconcerned.
She had already seen how absurd Anser's spellcasting was. He could toy with liches—there was no way a mere rogue was going to bring him down.
Anser turned toward her with a meaningful smile.
"The same as you."
"You..." Brunhilde thought he was teasing her, but a moment later realization dawned on her face.
"A Chosen?"
"That's right. A Chosen of Mask, the God of Thieves. Didn't you sense anything at all?" Anser asked with an amused expression.
"I..." Brunhilde froze.
Anser rubbed his chin, becoming more convinced that the mustachioed man hadn't been particularly bright.
An ability that didn't trigger any divine resonance had obviously been granted by Mask himself.
Did anyone really need to guess its purpose?
It was meant to let his Chosen keep a low profile, blend into the chaos, wait for the right opportunity, and avoid exposing themselves whenever possible.
Protect yourself first.
Only then worry about carrying out the divine mandate.
Clearly, Mask had a very accurate understanding of what his followers were—and what role they were meant to play.
The others' expressions changed as well.
Looking at the horribly mangled corpse, they found it difficult to believe.
The Chosen were the gods' elect—their representatives in the mortal world, embodiments of divine authority and power.
No one believed a Chosen could be killed so easily.
So when faced with the undeniable reality, everyone was deeply shaken.
"A Chosen of the God of Thieves..." Osborn looked from the corpse to Anser, a complicated look crossing his face. "He... really died just like that?"
Nefis noticed a small hole in Anser's robe. The cut was unbelievably clean, and her heart immediately tightened.
"How strong was he? And after he died... did you notice anything unusual?"
"He was a peak-tier professional, probably already brushing against the threshold of Legendary. As for his actual combat strength... hard to say. When he was on the verge of death, some kind of teleportation spell triggered, but it failed. Other than that, nothing seemed out of the ordinary," Anser explained.
Everyone exchanged strange looks.
What do you mean his strength was hard to judge? Had he simply not struggled enough?
"I saw that teleportation spell just now. It was probably a divine spell," Nefis said thoughtfully. "If that's the case, then Evan must have been in mortal danger as well."
As one, everyone turned toward Brunhilde.
If anyone should know about this, it was her.
"I don't know. Maybe it's a god's ultimate protection." Brunhilde raised an eyebrow, excitement flickering in her eyes.
Now that she knew she had divine protection as a safety net, it was hard not to be excited.
Wasn't that basically an extra life?
"Stay level-headed and be careful. Otherwise, he'll be your cautionary tale." Anser pointed at the corpse, warning her without the slightest tact.
The others might have hesitated to say it, but he had no such reservations.
Different gods bestowed different blessings upon their Chosen, and the degree of divine protection varied as well.
Just compare what had happened to the mustachioed man with Evan's experience.
That pillar of moonlight descending from the heavens and lingering in the sky was definitely more than just a flashy display.
Brunhilde shot Anser a glare, reined in her excitement, and chose not to argue.
The sight left Nefis clicking her tongue in amazement.
So there really was someone who could keep her in check.
After spending so much time dealing with Brunhilde herself, she knew exactly how difficult her personality was.
"Everyone, get some rest. And try not to wander around alone," she instructed.
"Got it. I'll head back to Holrewen. Send me a Sending if anything comes up," Anser replied.
"All right..."
Everyone dispersed.
Brunhilde went with Nefis, since the two were staying together, while Stoll returned to the stone tower to stand guard.
Anser teleported alone to the Black Tower.
He locked the corpse inside the underground prison, stripped every magic item from the body, and laid them out one by one.
Looking at the collection before him, his heart couldn't help but race.
Tonight had been anything but ordinary.
From now on, everyone would understand that Chosen were incredibly difficult to kill, and many plans would probably have to change.
'Good thing that thief came along to let me test things out. Otherwise, if we'd rushed straight into the final battle, Bane's Chosen would most likely have escaped with ease.'
Selûne clearly valued Evan highly.
There was no way Bane would simply ignore his own Chosen.
'And Chosen themselves aren't quite as overwhelming as I'd imagined.'
Anser's confidence grew considerably.
The Chosen possessed formidable resistances and powerful divine abilities.
But his own stats were even more outrageous.
There was no need for elaborate schemes.
He could defeat them head-on.
His two signature spells had not disappointed him, either.
Temporal Shunt could interrupt virtually any action, including spellcasting and attacks.
And under the enhancement of all ten Metamagic options, Prismatic Spray was devastatingly destructive.
The only drawback was that he still couldn't precisely control the rays' trajectories, causing the attacks to spread out too much.
Otherwise, the spell would have been even more terrifying.
A Fireball with a blast radius of a dozen meters was easy enough to avoid.
But rays that could repeatedly change direction while hunting a target over a hundred meters away were an entirely different story.
Perhaps no one understood the despair of drowning beneath a storm of prismatic light better than that mustachioed man.
Anser calmed himself and began appraising the spoils of battle.
His eyes grew brighter and brighter.
'Just as expected of a thief. He really was carrying some incredible loot.'
You could question a rogue's ability in a straight-up fight.
But you'd be a fool to question their talent for accumulating wealth.
There weren't many spoils.
Every single item, however, was top-tier.
Two of them were actually Legendary items.
Even Quide, the Tower Master of Otto Mage Tower, didn't own a single Legendary item.
Yet this thief had been carrying two.
One of them was the dark golden dagger, Soulrend.
It required attunement by a Rogue and granted a +3 bonus to attack rolls and damage rolls by severing the connection between a person and their soul.
While wielding Soulrend, its owner could enter the Ethereal Plane and attack targets visible in the Material Plane from there, making those attacks with advantage.
If a target's Hit Points were reduced to 75 or lower after taking Sneak Attack damage, it had to succeed on a Constitution saving throw or die instantly.
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---