The "Cauldron of Rebirth" was not as powerful as imagined. It came with many hidden conditions.
For example, the target could not have been dead for more than ten days, had to be a non-undead creature, the soul could not have dissipated, and the body could not be missing organs or essential body parts necessary for survival.
Stoll had long since exceeded the ten-day limit since his death, but thanks to the protection of the magic array, his body remained intact, satisfying the conditions for resurrection.
Eight hours later, all of his fatal wounds would be healed, and the green dragon poison in his body neutralized. He would eventually revive with 1 Hit Point remaining. At that point, immediate healing would still be necessary, otherwise his life could remain in danger.
Resurrection could not restore lost body parts, and returning from death was an agonizing experience. After being revived, the dead would enter a weakened state lasting at least four days, during which combat should be avoided whenever possible.
Anser stared blankly at the "salt-baked" corpse and the faint magical glow surrounding it.
He was thinking: if he had a resurrection item like this himself, could he just kill enemies and revive them over and over again, endlessly farming experience points?
'Probably not.'
After thinking it over for a while, he still wasn't entirely certain.
He suspected the dice's experience system worked like some kind of rule-based plundering and feedback mechanism. Enemies who died by his hand might already lose certain essential properties, making them difficult to revive through conventional spells.
Of course, he had no way to verify that right now. He could only wait for an opportunity in the future to test it.
"I'll stay here and keep watch. You all go handle your own business." Iris sat down nearby, looking fully prepared to stubbornly wait things out.
Anser pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. It was already afternoon.
"I need to go deal with some matters in Rock of Bral and Durlag. I'll try to get back before Stoll revives."
He was a Paladin. The moment Stoll revived, he could immediately restore him to peak condition. It would also be a good opportunity to build some goodwill and make recruiting him later much easier.
Even the gods' chosen formed alliances. There was no way he could take on an entire group alone.
"I'm going to wander around on my own." Brunhilde touched the holy symbol on her forehead and decided to stay farther away from Anser so it could calm down.
She was very interested in the information hidden within Anser's words, but directly prying into someone else's secrets would be inappropriate. So she decided to first investigate the recent events on her own.
The group split up there.
Brunhilde skillfully cast Fly, then flew straight out of the fortress. Judging by the direction, she was probably heading toward Durlag.
'Can my spell models still sell for money?'
Standing outside the castle, Anser felt a slight sense of regret. The era of "what others lack, I alone possess" was over.
He watched her figure in the sky. Only after the distance between them stretched several hundred meters did the strand of divinity inside the dice gradually quiet down.
The dice still was not strong enough to suppress divinity for now.
'Maybe converting it into experience points would be safer. Otherwise, every trip outside might end with enemies on all sides.'
Followers of Good or Lawful alignments could sometimes be even more extreme. Once they made up their minds, they might fight to the death without stopping.
Shaking his head, he stopped dwelling on it. From the teleportation hall in the side palace, he cast Teleportation Circle and quietly teleported to Rock of Bral.
The stone tower was unusually quiet, and the divinity showed no reaction either. He pushed open the door and went upstairs to look around, but Osborn was nowhere to be found.
The tables, chairs, and beds had all been neatly arranged. Several bottles of wine sat in the cabinet, and the kitchen still held plenty of ingredients. It was obvious a great deal of care had gone into maintaining the place.
'Halflings really know how to live.'
Standing by the third-floor window, he looked outside. Middle City appeared completely normal. The streets no longer showed any traces of war, though they were less lively than before.
He did not stay long. After leaving Osborn a note, he teleported away again.
Just because he had been invited did not mean he absolutely had to attend. Osborn was also one of the invited guests. As long as he went and explained a few things on Anser's behalf, that would be enough.
Stoll's resurrection timing conflicted with the banquet, and the former mattered far more to him.
After returning to Fort Jacqueline, he spread his dragon wings and flew toward the Durlag Union.
While still in the air, he saw that the area around the headquarters was already packed with people, roughly divided into two groups.
One group had gathered in the square in front of the headquarters' wooden building, entire families in tow. The other had formed a long line outside the City Guard training grounds. Most were able-bodied adults, though the crowd numbered several hundred in total.
When the "six-winged flyer" descended from the sky, a commotion immediately spread through the crowd. Some recognized him as the Union's President, and discussions broke out at once.
Anser, however, was in no mood to relax. He was worried that another god-chosen might appear in Durlag. If that happened, things could spiral out of control.
Fortunately, he had planned ahead. He had deliberately arrived half an hour late, allowing Brunhilde to tour Durlag first and confirm that no conflicts had arisen before coming himself.
As soon as he landed, Graham hurried over with a halfling at his side.
Anser recognized the halfling immediately. He was the Stonemasons' Guild official responsible for helping recruit refugees.
"President, we've already recruited all the people you asked for, but far too many keep signing up. A lot of them refuse to leave," Graham said with a pained expression. He had severely underestimated the President's reputation.
The moment news spread that refugees were being accepted, the Stonemasons' Guild had been overwhelmed. In only a single morning, the place had been packed beyond capacity.
After discussing the situation, they had no choice but to move the screening process to the much larger Union headquarters. The Guard Corps and City Guard could at least help maintain order there.
"Have there been a lot of incoming refugees lately?"
"The numbers haven't gone down at all. The pressure on public security is enormous. People are dying every day."
At least several thousand refugees had poured into Durlag recently. Most came from the Claw Bay, while a smaller portion arrived from Beregost and nearby villages.
The influx had pushed Durlag's supply system to the breaking point. Prices were soaring, and even the Union found it difficult to control where the situation was headed.
"How many talented people did you recruit?" Anser asked.
The term "talent" had been his own idea. Scholars, officials, Wizards—anyone who could write Common fluently and handle arithmetic qualified.
"We've brought in seven or eight mid- to high-ranking officials from the Claw Bay, along with more than a dozen magic apprentices. None of them have been assigned positions yet," Graham replied.
"Too conservative. Push harder. Durlag will only remain stable if intelligent people have a way to survive." Anser was clearly dissatisfied.
"Put them to work. Have them oversee refugee recruitment and organize road and housing repairs."
"Expand Durlag. Build an outer city. Start drawing up plans for residential districts, commercial districts, and the city walls..."
The refugees could not simply be ignored. Hungry people would inevitably cause trouble. It was better to take advantage of this cheap labor force and put them to work on infrastructure projects, eliminating potential security problems while simultaneously expanding the city and encouraging them to stay.
"You can also plan a few villages farther out. Provide tools and seeds and let them become self-sufficient," he added.
"That's going to cost a lot of money." Graham frowned slightly.
"Get the funds from the treasury officer. If it isn't enough, have him come find me." Anser waved a hand dismissively, looking every bit the wealthy magnate.
Magic items were expensive, but labor was cheap.
Right now, a few copper pieces could hire a man to work for more than ten hours. If payment was offered in bread instead, even more people would be willing to work.
"Understood. I'll start making arrangements immediately." Graham nodded heavily. As long as there was money, there were countless ways to solve problems.
"Improve the system, increase efficiency, and keep corruption under control. Don't cancel the weekly meetings. Every council member needs to read the meeting records," Anser emphasized.
"I understand," Graham replied solemnly.
Anser's management style could best be described as goal-oriented delegated management.
He did not involve himself deeply in day-to-day operations. He only needed to set the direction and objectives, then delegate authority, provide funding and resources, and periodically review the results.
The approach was simple and efficient. Its drawback was that subordinates could eventually sideline him, and implementation might drift away from the original goals.
But he did not particularly care.
As long as he continued growing stronger, he had no reason to worry about losing power.
And if mistakes happened, so be it. Perfectionists who insisted on personally handling everything usually worked themselves to death.
After giving all the necessary instructions, Anser had more than three hundred refugees gathered together. After offering a few words of advice and painting a hopeful picture of the future, he began sending them into Holrewen in batches.
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