Super Magician: The Magic Network Collapsed Again at the Start

Chapter 30 Compulsory Conscription Order

Anser opened his eyes and met the old priest's cloudy eyes. He nodded in greeting and pointed at Zahir, asking, "Do you still have spell slots?"

“There’s more.” The old priest snapped out of his daze and immediately cast a healing spell on Zahir.

Anser seized the opportunity to get up, turn around and leave, and the people around him quickly made way for him.

"Fantastic! You're absolutely amazing! I call you the Son of Miracles!" Blatt chased after them, jumped onto Anser's back, and showered him with compliments.

He was so excited that he completely forgot his usual composure.

"Get down, get down. Don't you know how much you weigh?" Anser pushed him away impatiently.

He himself never expected to act as a stabilizer for the magic network. If those mages found out, they would definitely capture him and tie him to their bodies.

That's not right either, it seems those mages don't have the ability to catch him now.

Finn ran over, a hint of expectation in his dull eyes: "He's alive?"

"He's alive."

"Ah."

"This... is it edible?" Finn asked, lifting up the huge crab leg in his hand.

“Uh…” Anser was a little confused about his thought process.

Blatt, exasperated, said, "What do you need this for? To cut off ears, to find spoils? Let's go, let's go."

He grabbed Finn and ran, and Finn casually tossed the crab leg to Anser.

Anser surveyed the battlefield. The battle was basically over, and everyone was cleaning up the battlefield and treating the wounded.

The human combat groups now probably have several hundred or even a thousand members, a diverse mix of people: Flame Fist soldiers, priests, adventurers, municipal staff, civilians... a real mixed bag.

He saw many familiar faces inside.

At this moment, many people were cutting off the monster's head and ears, and even started arguing and shoving each other, making the scene suddenly become somewhat abstract.

The battle just now was too chaotic. A goblin might have a dozen arrows stuck in his body and several sword wounds. Which one is the fatal wound, and whose is it?
Whoever grabs it gets to keep it!

The life-or-death struggle between races united everyone, but self-interest also made everyone selfish and self-serving.

Seeing this, Anser quickly retrieved the three people's backpacks, picked up Finn's crab, and climbed up a towering broken rock. Afraid the two wouldn't be able to see, he cast another light spell on his staff.

The sky was turning white, the air was foul and pungent, constantly irritating the nasal passages, the ground was sticky and filthy, and corpses were everywhere, like a hellish slaughterhouse.

He looked at the scene before him, still...uncomfortable.

It wasn't fear, but rather a clash of ideas and values.

Here, adventurers seem to have become accustomed to the fragility and brevity of life, like a flickering lamp. Even Blatt, from the good faction, is preoccupied with his spoils and doesn't find the sheer number of deaths shocking or terrifying.

Everyone is struggling to survive, but some people's "struggle" is more realistic.

A series of heavy footsteps approached, and a short, stocky dwarf with a red beard stopped at the foot of the broken rock, looked up and laughed, "Hey, newbie."

"Who is the newbie calling?"

"The newbie is calling you."

"Haha..." Anser laughed twice, got up and jumped off the broken rock, "What does the newbie want?"

Thoradin finally realized what was happening, and his face darkened: "I came here with good intentions to give you advice, but you just made fun of me instead. You have no respect for your seniors at all."

“Respect is something you keep in your heart.” Anser saw his injuries and his smile faded. “You’re hurt?”

"How could you not get injured in a battle like this? As long as you're not dead, that's good." Soradin looked Anser up and down, and seeing that his cloak was clean and his face was spotless, he realized that his words were a bit inaccurate.

“Getting injured could mean death.” Anser took out a sheathed, alien dagger from his pack, revealing a short, dark blue blade with a strange and sharp curve. “Take a look at this.”

"Good stuff." Soradin gave it a high rating at a glance. He carefully pinched the handle, sniffed it gently, and his expression changed slightly.

After observing for a moment, Thoradin returned the dagger to him: "Don't touch the blade, it's highly poisonous, and it wasn't coated. It's a good piece, excellent quality, just not hard enough, but this poison alone is worth a thousand gold coins..."

Anser understood. This thing was a powerful assassination weapon, but it couldn't be used for direct combat. It might not even be able to break through the defenses of armored monsters, so its usefulness was rather limited. No one in the team liked using daggers, so he was unsure whether to keep it or sell it.

"Keep it for now; it'll be bad for you if this thing falls into the wrong hands," Soradin said meaningfully.

"Is something the matter?" Anser sensed something was amiss in his words. Could it be that his recent behavior had been too conspicuous and he had been targeted?

"Does the Blue Flame Order know about this?" Thoradin asked gravely.

"An evil organization from the Arcane Cataclysm?" Anser asked, puzzled.

"The origin is unclear, but there really is such an organization in the city. Many mages or apprentices have joined them. They claim that you stole the power of some holy lord and label you a heretic," Thoradin warned.

Anser was speechless. It was outrageous that a cult would label him like that.

“Don’t underestimate this, those people are crazy.” Thoradin glanced around and took a few steps closer. “Also, the Dukes’ Council has issued a mandatory conscription order to form a warband, led by the surviving Flamefist, with the aim of retaking Baldur’s Gate, and most likely also to support the Upper City…”

"Forced conscription, signing a magical contract?" Anser frowned slightly. The fact that Soradin came specifically to inform him meant that he had been targeted.

“Yes, the offer is generous, but we can’t refuse,” Soradin emphasized. “The Lords’ Alliance has been slow to send troops to our aid, and the dukes need to save themselves. They can’t think about anything else right now.”

"what do you mean?"

"Leave immediately. You have no background and are just a spellcaster. They'll use you without any scruples. It wouldn't be surprising if you encountered a more dangerous situation than Zahir..."

"how about you?"

“I have the Iron Mountain Clan backing me, they wouldn’t dare force me.” Thoradin was very confident; he wasn’t making money for himself.

"Thank you." Anser's words were completely sincere. Although their relationship wasn't particularly close, Thoradin's actions were impeccable.

He looked at the chaotic battlefield, feeling somewhat reluctant to part with the spoils of war.

“How foolish. Leave the rest to Rand.” Thoradin saw through his thoughts at a glance. “Tyr’s followers won’t let you suffer any losses. Others don’t even have that kind of relationship.”

"Don't delay, go to the west coast. There are many fishing villages and towns there. The Kou Tao fishmen can only blockade the Chongza River; they don't dare go to the Sword Sea."

After saying that, Soradin waved his hand and turned to leave.

As dawn broke, people began to notice the place.

Anser was filled with mixed emotions, but he dared not hesitate. He tapped his staff lightly to dispel the light spell, so as not to be too dazzling.

Then he jumped off the broken rock and found Blatt and his companion fighting with others for the spoils.

"go!"

"what happened?"

"Tell me on the way."

Blatt and his companion were puzzled, but they could sense that Anser was not in a good mood, so they had no choice but to carry their backpacks and crab meat and follow behind him.

Anser found Rand and threw him the big bag of tattered equipment and monster ears, asking him to help him sort through the loot that might have belonged to him and get rid of it.

Rand readily agreed; he was busy, but he wouldn't refuse any reasonable request from Anser.

Without Anser, countless more people would have died today, not to mention that he saved Zahir's life.

Rand didn't ask Anser where he was going, but just gave him a big hug and handed him a platinum badge, a blue shield-shaped badge, palm-sized, with the holy symbol of Tyr, the god of justice: the balance scales on a warhammer.

Anser did not refuse. After a brief farewell, the three left the chaotic battlefield.

Instead of following the coast, they returned to the city and wandered through the streets and alleys, heading west into the open wilderness.

As dawn broke, tents dotted the wilderness, scattered everywhere, in all shapes and sizes, like colorful mushrooms sprouting after the rain.

Many people also slept in groups of three or five in the open air; these were refugees who had fled the city on rainy nights.

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(End of this chapter)