Iris rarely asked Anser to do anything for her. The fact that she suddenly brought this up meant this person was anything but ordinary and had to be treated seriously.
Perhaps she also intended to recruit the other party.
"What's her name?" Anser asked.
"Brunhilde. An elderly and kindly elf. Back then, she was studying at Candlekeep and often came by…" Iris explained with a smile, a trace of nostalgia on her face.
"Does she have a way to revive Stoll?" Anser knew that was the real reason Iris wanted to invite her.
"Hard to say." Iris's expression dimmed.
Anser fell silent for a moment before comforting her. "I'll make another trip to the Traveler's Rest in a couple of days. I should be able to find something there. My luck's always been pretty good."
Back when he played games, resurrection items had been everywhere and easy to come by. Reality, however, was completely different.
Everyone valued their lives dearly. Resurrection-type items were always in short supply, their prices remained absurdly high, and many times, even having money didn't mean you could buy one.
He suddenly thought of those godsworn.
The way he had obtained divinity was rather special. Other godsworn should be able to gain some spells or traits tied to divine power itself. Maybe one of them even possessed the ability to resurrect the dead.
If Stoll could be revived and the two of them joined forces, their chances of hunting evil godsworn would increase dramatically.
Surely not every evil godsworn was Legendary, right?
Since they were waiting for someone, the two of them stayed in the room after breakfast instead of going out, researching ways to further develop and apply magic.
Most of the time, Iris asked questions while Anser answered them in meticulous detail.
Sometimes, he would even use the Book of Castella's Wizardly Quill to sketch out abstract spellcasting processes, or deliberately slow down his casting motions to help Iris understand.
But spellcasting was an ability rooted heavily in practice. Understanding and explanation alone were not enough. One had to drill it over and over until it became almost instinctive before it could truly be used in battle.
The look in Iris's eyes grew increasingly shocked.
She knew Anser had never had a mentor. Everything he knew about spellcasting had been self-taught. Yet reaching this level could no longer be described with something as simple as "genius."
Being born knowledgeable was one thing, but spellcasting techniques required tens of thousands of repetitions to master.
Anser noticed her confusion but pretended not to. He simply continued explaining while compiling his experience and insights into a book so Iris could flip through it whenever she wanted.
Time quietly slipped by.
As noon approached, the guest they were waiting for never arrived.
Instead, a group of tieflings showed up.
They arrived in grand numbers, well over a hundred of them gathering outside the castle gates. Leading them was none other than the tall and slender Makaria.
After permission was granted, the castle guards escorted more than a dozen tieflings into the reception hall.
"Makaria, I was starting to think you weren't coming after all." Anser stepped forward to greet her and gestured for everyone to sit.
Makaria looked utterly exhausted. Hearing that, she immediately panicked that Anser might misunderstand and hurried to explain: "The tiefling tribe was too far away. I rode day and night without stopping. Once the tribe agreed, we immediately rushed back overnight…"
Behind her, several elderly tieflings quietly sized Anser up. Then they exchanged glances and silently nodded to one another.
"These three are elders of our tribe. This is our chieftain, Ekmond…" After speaking, Makaria quickly introduced the elderly figures beside her to Anser.
"Welcome. You must've had a rough journey," Anser said. From their travel-worn appearance alone, he could tell the trip had been agonizing, both physically and mentally.
"Greetings, President." Ekmond gave a slight bow, his bony hand gripping a cane tightly, every tendon and joint clearly visible.
He was truly ancient, looking as though only a single breath of life remained in him.
His back was hunched, his face covered in deep wrinkles, and his sparse beard and hair were completely white. One of his fiendish horns was missing entirely, while the other was covered in countless scratches, bearing the heavy marks of time.
The die spun slightly before displaying his information:
[Tiefling Chieftain Ekmond, Tiefling, Level 16 Warlock (Hexblade)]
Anser clicked his tongue inwardly. This old man was actually the highest-level adventurer in the reception hall—and a rare Hexblade at that.
The Hexblade's power originated from the Shadowfell. The name itself came from a mighty greatsword known as Blackrazor, a weapon that had wandered the multiverse for countless ages.
Hexblade warlocks would model their own weapons after Blackrazor, using them as conduits to channel the dark magic of the Shadowfell and amplify their spellcasting abilities.
But no matter how powerful an adventurer was, none could withstand the passage of time.
Tieflings lived roughly as long as humans. Even the strongest among them could not extend their lifespan by much.
Ekmond's life was nearing its end. His body could no longer support combat. Though he still retained his class levels, he had already lost the ability to protect himself that should have come with them.
The tieflings had already made their choice.
Ekmond simply wasn't willing to leave things unchecked and had come personally to confirm everything for himself.
After the greetings were over, they skipped the unnecessary pleasantries and moved straight into discussing terms.
Anser did not bring out the magical contract he had prepared beforehand. Instead, he explained the future plans for the new Union.
The moment they heard that high-level adventurers could apply to become council members, excitement immediately appeared on the faces of Ekmond, Makaria, and the others.
One option meant being hired help.
The other meant becoming partners.
The difference in status and freedom between the two was worlds apart.
Anser had his own selfish motives as well. Both systems ultimately served him anyway, so there was no fundamental difference.
But integrating them into the Union came with many advantages. For example, commissions would be paid through public Union funds instead of out of his own pocket, and work motivation would naturally be much higher.
After both sides finished discussing the details, they signed a magical contract on the spot.
Anser received a map marked with the tiefling tribe's location and travel route.
The tieflings were already packing up their belongings. Within the next few days, they could relocate to White Stone Island. All they needed was for Anser to head over and open a portal.
White Stone Island was enormous. Even another ten thousand people could easily fit there. A tiefling tribe numbering only a few hundred would hardly make a difference.
That said, they would still need to build a new home from scratch and adapt to an entirely new environment. Some discomfort was inevitable, and during the early stages they would definitely require support from the administrative hall.
The Flamerule Mercenary Company officially merged into the Union. Salaries would be calculated individually according to ability, ranging from several hundred gold coins a year to several thousand.
Fortunately, those payments would be distributed weekly or monthly, so they would not place too much financial strain on either the Union or Anser.
Anser planned to split up the Flamerule Mercenary Company. Most of its members would join White Stone Island's city guard, while a handful of the stronger adventurers would be selected to form a brand-new battle company.
He himself would serve as captain, with Makaria and Adolf acting as vice-captains. Together with several elite adventurers, they would be more than capable of handling high-intensity combat.
Both the mercenary company and the tiefling tribe needed some time to prepare. After agreeing on a timetable, Anser personally escorted Makaria's group out.
Iris remained silent the entire time. Yet whenever Anser spoke about the battle company's plans, her gaze repeatedly drifted toward him, though she never asked any questions.
The two stood at the castle gates, watching the crowd disappear into the distance.
Just as they were about to head back inside, another group appeared at the foot of the mountain—a two-horse carriage accompanied by more than a dozen knights.
"They're here." Iris pressed her lips together in a smile, her voice carrying a trace of excitement.
Anser's expression froze.
The die infused with divinity spun frantically, trembling with unrest:
[Enemy godsworn detected. Purify the target immediately.]
This was a warning from his divinity itself!
At that moment, the carriage door opened, revealing the figure of a tall woman.
On her forehead glowed a purple emblem: 'A left hand outlined in flame, fingers together and pointing upward.'
'What…? How could the god of wizards, Azuth, possibly be an evil god?!'
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