Chapter 127: Stupid And Evil
Anse wants to develop Hollewen, so it’s impossible to hide it from those with ulterior motives.
Large numbers of personnel and supplies are flowing through; it’s impossible to conceal even if one tries.
Giving up eating for fear of choking won’t do; he believes he has enough strength to protect all this.
Moreover, this is a multiverse world with countless otherworlds and dimensional spaces; the preciousness of Spatial Paradise isn’t as high as imagined.
Salian thought for a moment, his expression turning strange, and he probed softly: “You didn’t… marry into Jacqueline Castle, did you?”
Dara nearby had a stiff expression, locking their gaze on Anse, their eyes complex and hard to discern.
“You know Jacqueline Castle?” Anse asked curiously.
“It’s famous; it’s said that every generation of patriarch is female, all high-level spellcasters.” Salian said meaningfully.
He is a wood elf, old in age, with vast knowledge, not something a young person like Anse who hasn’t left home could compare to.
“I am temporarily staying in Jacqueline Castle, but I haven’t married in.” Anse said seriously; he hadn’t gotten the meat and yet was covered in fishy smell—this he couldn’t admit.
“The territory I mentioned has nothing to do with Jacqueline; it’s in an otherworld, given to me by Candlekeep’s Reader as thanks.” He added, conveniently bringing out Candlekeep’s banner.
“Candlekeep?” Salian was silent for a moment, his expression wistful, “I wonder if Candlekeep can hold out?”
“I think your worries are a bit excessive.” Anse chuckled lightly, somewhat dismissive.
Candlekeep has tight defenses, many powerhouses, and the soul of an ancient silver dragon with infinite resurrection guarding it; even the Green Dragon Queen might not escape if she went.
“That’s right, that’s right.” Dara echoed from the side, a smile blooming on their face, “It’s getting dark; let’s hurry to your territory. Everyone’s tired and hungry.”
Kalenno nearby watched Dara chuckle.
To be honest, they had been quite worried about Anse and the others bringing up the rear along the way, feeling some guilt inside; they hadn’t expected that after separating, those people were doing even better, having become a lord.
“Have everyone gather around; we’ll change places to rest.” Anse was afraid of disturbing Clara and didn’t dare shout loudly.
Salian gathered everyone over, all crowding around Anse.
Anse cast Detect Evil and Good, scanning everyone one by one, and only quietly breathed a sigh of relief after confirming no one was abnormal.
He held Clara in one arm and activated the Scepter of Sanctuary with the other, teleporting everyone to Hollewen.
On the plaza, the treant was still leading kobolds in work, with many people watching from afar, but no one approaching.
Salian and the others widened their eyes, looking up at the towering Black Tower, their expressions filled with shock.
After a long while, Salian spoke faintly: “Anse, have you ever investigated your own background?”
Admittedly, sorcerers don’t necessarily rely on bloodline; an accident or chance could make one a sorcerer, but grassroots sorcerers like that wouldn’t have the chance to “inherit” such a powerful mage tower.
He had already imagined in his mind a drama of a family bloodline scattered outside, with guardians secretly providing help.
“You’re overthinking it; follow me.” Anse smiled helplessly, carrying the bewildered Clara into the Black Tower.
Kalenno had just entered the door when he was startled by the construct shield guard in the corner, exclaiming: “What is this?”
“Construct.” Anse replied, handing Clara to Dara who had followed, “I need to go pick up Brat and the supplies; look around yourselves, I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t worry, I’m here.” Salian responded mechanically, his palm stroking the black wall, finding it more and more extraordinary the more he looked.
Stonemason Guild, Anse appeared out of thin air, startling the mustached halfling into jumping from his seat.
Anse smiled and waved at him, went out, mounted up, rode west along the long street for a stretch, then turned onto another street, continuing south.
Using the Scepter of Sanctuary, he could vaguely sense the general location of the Paradise Seal, making it easier to find people.
Night had fallen, most shops along the street had closed, only a few taverns and eateries with lights on, casting shadows of a few hurried figures.
Two of the figures suddenly stopped and ran quickly toward Anse; by their uniforms, they should be guards: “Mr. Anse?”
“That’s me.” Anse felt they looked familiar; he must have seen them during the day.
“Is Mr. Brat your subordinate?”
“Yes, what’s wrong?” Anse sensed something bad.
“Something happened!” the guard said urgently, “Today many refugees came from the west; they can’t afford grain and have blocked Mr. Brat’s goods.”
Anse frowned slightly, feeling something off: “If they can’t buy grain, they can go hunting; even if they cause trouble, it should be at the grain merchants’, right?”
Dulag had just suffered dragon disaster and military disaster, trade was blocked, grain was expensive as normal, but meat was cheap and could fill bellies.
“Well, they…” The guard spoke hesitantly, head slightly lowered, not daring to look at Anse, “They say Mr. Anse sent people to buy up all the grain on the market, hoarding it for huge profits, leaving no way for commoners to live…”
“Heh… looks like you believe it too.” Anse laughed angrily; such obvious incitement had even shaken the guards.
“No, no…” The two guards hurriedly waved their hands in denial.
Once doubt arises, the charge is already established!
Most commoners have narrow information sources, no ability to discern truth from falsehood or think independently, and firmly believe in conspiracy theories, always feeling nobles and officials are finding ways to exploit them.
This rumor seems crude, but its effect is very good. Not to mention in Faerun, even in his previous life, Anse would inevitably face a net storm.
Moreover, procuring grain is a fact; the populace doesn’t care about motives— to them, a thousand gold coins of grain is an astronomical figure.
“I’ll go take a look.” Anse lightly patted Nolnos’s back, and it immediately trotted off.
Seeing this, one guard continued to report to superiors, the other hurriedly following behind Anse.
After advancing a few hundred meters, waves of uproar and angry shouts reached his ears.
Turning a corner, a dense crowd and lights came into view—at least hundreds of people, blocking the entire street airtight.
At the edge of the crowd was a four-story wooden building, with large piles of goods in front of the door; Brat and others stood around the goods, confronting the crowd.
Giant Tail bared its teeth, banging its shield clangorously; if not for Brat holding it back, it would probably have attacked.
Anse first cast Detect Evil and Good, then cast Light on the gem at the head of the Scepter of Sanctuary; bright light spread out, drawing much attention.
Nolnos neighed and stepped forward, the crowd parting to make way wherever it went.
Anse observed the crowd as he walked.
These people definitely weren’t from Blue Water City, but folks who left the bay earlier. Blue Water City had fallen not long ago; commoners couldn’t arrive in Dulag this quickly.
‘Who could it be?’
The other side likely wanted to force him away—who would benefit from that?
Nolnos passed through the crowd to the inner circle.
Anse drew the Dragon Gold Slash Sword; with a flash of light, brilliant platinum radiance attached to it, and he raised the longsword, pointing at the crowd.
Nolnos advanced accordingly, pacing close to the inner edge of the crowd; wherever it went, radiance and cold gleam intertwined, forcing everyone to retreat in alarm, who knows how many fell to the ground.
“Paladin!”
Someone exclaimed, calling out Anse’s identity, causing unrest in the crowd.
Many who planned to fish in troubled waters were annoyed, suddenly feeling deceived—not some shady noble, but a paladin? That’s too far-fetched.
By the time Anse circled the goods once, the crowd had been pushed back several meters, disheveled and unable to speak out.
The scene was unusually quiet.
Brat immediately felt relieved; just now these people had been so arrogant, relying on strength in numbers to vent long-accumulated resentment.
These are the easiest to incite fools, tools for those with ill intentions, and sometimes the most dangerous people.
Anse flicked his wrist, and the longsword enhanced with Holy Slash turned into a white light, plunging straight into the ground several meters away, scaring the crowd back a few more steps.
He had done it on purpose just now, taking the chance to use spells and dice to detect the crowd’s situation, but found no traces of mind flayers or illithids.
This was normal; mind flayers are very smart—even if they incited the crowd, they wouldn’t stay to be caught.
No mind flayers, but an unexpected gain.
