Chapter 128: Bahamut
The crowd was a motley mix, hiding eyes and ears from various forces, among whom one group particularly caught his attention.
【Eye of the Iron Throne, human, level four rogue（thief）】
The Iron Throne is a very ancient merchant guild, having risen and fallen several times, yet always enduring.
They will do anything for money, disguising themselves on the surface as a legitimate merchant guild, mainly trading in iron ore, weapons, and grain, but in reality doing all sorts of things.
Smuggling, drugs, slaves, monopoly, assassination, intelligence, manipulating puppet regimes…
One person might be a coincidence, but Anse circled around and spotted three or four, so they definitely had ulterior motives.
If not for the dice, he would have a hard time perceiving these people’s presence.
He remained outwardly calm, but secretly memorized those few people’s appearances and positions.
“Most of you are from Claw Bay, right!” His voice was cold and stern, resounding powerfully, carrying far into the night, “I come from there too.”
The crowd stirred in commotion; few knew Anse, and they had always thought they were confronting some local merchant or minor noble today.
Before anyone could respond, Anse continued: “Do you know? I covered your retreat at the Cliff Fortress, holding off the half-dragon and kobold army for a night.
Do you know? I blocked the enemy at Blue Water City, single-handedly taking to the skies to hunt wyverns and half-dragons, repelling the Wyvern Guard, witnessed by tens of thousands.
Do you know why the Emerald Kingdom and Amn people retreated? You know nothing, only that you survived, but not why you survived or how many died for it!”
The crowd fell silent, heads bowed without a word.
Some felt guilty, some were awestruck by Anse’s strength and exploits, others pondered the information revealed in his words…
Anse knew his initial motives weren’t so noble, but what about Cliff Fortress Lord Tim, dragon-slaying Stol, and those fallen paladins.
Are the foolish masses really worth saving? Many paladins never feared battling enemies, yet were driven to mental collapse by the very people they saved.
Of course, his purpose in saying all this was to shatter any possible slanders or doubts with his past exploits and paladin identity. Without this golden aura, trouble would inevitably follow.
“Durag temporarily has no shortage of grain, nor of meat; if you want to eat, go hunt yourselves.” He pointed toward the Toothed Forest, his tone calm, “Something happened today, and I believe many of you have heard about it.
Monsters have infiltrated Durag: mind flayers and illithids. They specialize in eating brains, are very clever, can possess or parasitize humans or animals, and are extremely hard to detect.”
The crowd grew restless, many showing fear on their faces, eyes filled with doubt, scanning around.
Anse deliberately paused for a moment before continuing: “I crushed their plot together with the Durag Union, so they will surely seek revenge on me. You don’t know the truth and might be exploited by them.
Those spreading rumors could be mind flayers!”
The crowd descended into chaos, fleeing rumor-spreaders like the plague, isolating many.
Anse observed intently, carefully distinguishing; most were fools who believed every wind, but there were also a few jumping around to fan the flames.
One was clearly an Iron Throne intelligence operative.
This person had been in the front row earlier but had now retreated into the crowd; if he had spoken a bit later, this person might have slipped away unnoticed.
To stir up so many people’s emotions, someone had to lead, with others chiming in—either bought off or doing it themselves; a group of commoners alone couldn’t achieve it.
“Those few are—” Anse pointed at those preparing to flee and shouted, “Grab them! I’ll pay one hundred gold coins. Commoners, stand back.”
The surrounding professionals and adventurers perked up at the spectacle, eyes gleaming fiercely; many rushed forward weapons drawn without a second thought.
This was a paladin’s hefty bounty— a rare opportunity.
The commoners scattered and fled; they dared to catch wanted criminals, but against unknown monsters, they had no courage.
Anse raised the Scepter of Sanctuary, pointing at four people in succession; whoever he pointed at suffered, as professionals swarmed with no escape.
“
Resonant dragon speech rang out; three magic missiles streaked through the crowd, knocking the fastest level four rogue to the ground.
Giant Tail charged over, forcing him back with a single swing.
“Misunderstanding, I am…”
“Bang—”
Giant Tail struck with fury; his shield bashed aside the block, slamming directly into his face.
Accompanied by a dull crack of bones, the rogue was sent flying, landing in a coma with blurred features and face covered in blood.
Giant Tail collected his weapon, dragged him before Anse, and tossed him to the ground like trash.
“Refreshing.”
That earlier feeling of strength with nowhere to go, words stuck unspoken, had left him especially frustrated—the first time experiencing the complexities of the human world.
Anse sat astride his horse, appearing nonchalant, but actually a bit embarrassed; he had spoken too quickly, forgetting he was broke.
Brat seemed to sense his predicament, quietly stepping forward to remove the rogue’s money bag, glancing inside before nodding discreetly to Anse.
The other three were soon captured and dragged back, bound tightly and dumped before Anse.
The group of professionals stood obediently at a distance, eyeing Anse eagerly without fighting over credit, seeming quite harmonious.
Brat waved: “Everyone come over here, divide into three groups.”
The professionals beamed with joy, hurrying over.
At that moment, chaotic footsteps came from the street entrance; he looked over to see teams of guards rushing up.
Wind whistled in the sky as a flying carpet sped over, hovering beside Anse.
“Looks like I arrived a step late.” Illyas had a cold face, moonlight falling on her like frost.
Everyone knew Anse lived in Jacqueline Castle; troubling him was like slapping her face, showing no regard for Jacqueline Castle.
“Not late; your intelligence is quite sharp.” Anse smiled.
Jacqueline Castle was not close; he even suspected Illyas had come looking for him since he hadn’t returned so late, happening upon the scene.
“Who are they?”
“Iron Throne.”
Illyas’s eyebrows twitched, a flash of realization on her face, “Possibly coming for me. How did you spot them?”
“A guess…” Anse briefly described the earlier events.
“Didn’t expect you to be so clever.” Illyas’s eyebrows lifted, her face full of amusement.
“Hm?” Anse turned his head to glare at her, dissatisfied, “We’ve only known each other a few days, and you’ve formed such a big prejudice against me?”
“Have I?” Illyas giggled, steering the flying carpet away.
She directed the guards to clean up the battlefield, disperse the crowd, and take the four captives to the federation headquarters prison.
Anse just watched quietly; today he realized an official identity that could intimidate was very important.
If those people had targeted Jacqueline Castle or the Durag Union from the start, commoners would at most spread a few rumors; even with ten times the courage, they wouldn’t dare gather a mob.
Moments later, Illyas finished handling things and flew back to his side.
“Leave these people to me; I can definitely pry their mouths open.”
“Fine; if you get any intelligence, remember to tell me.” Anse wasn’t one to swallow a loss silently.
“What are you buying all this stuff for?” Illyas stared into Anse’s eyes, “Whatever you need, just tell the butler; the Jacqueline merchant guild has everything. Why go far when it’s near?”
She had suspected something when Giant Tail suddenly appeared; now with more people, it inexplicably made her uneasy.
“Candlekeep’s great reader gave me an otherworld territory; can’t just let it lie fallow.” Anse didn’t hide it.
Illyas was right; his habit of relying on himself for changes meant wasting resources was foolish.
“Oh~” Illyas didn’t press further, eyes rolling as she glanced at the longsword stuck in the ground, “You really are a paladin?”
“Yes.” Anse’s gaze was steady; lying wasn’t the way of an elegant noble.
“Which one’s?”
A paladin’s power indeed came from their oath, but most paladins were devout believers; generalists were extremely rare.
Anse was about to say God of Justice but felt it odd, pausing before saying: “Platinum Dragon God.”
Platinum Dragon God Bahamut was the lawful good alignment deity, ruler of metal dragons, revered as the god of justice and nobility, domains of life, order, and war; lawful and good paladins saw him as a beacon.
He and the evil chromatic dragon queen Tiamat were twin siblings, born together from Dragon God Eo’s creation force.
In a world called Krynn（Dragonlance）, Bahamut was also called Paladine, known as Father of Good, Lord of Order, commander of the good gods, often appearing as a doddering human old mage named Fizban in a faded robe.
He had pure metal dragon bloodline; faith in the Platinum Dragon God was perfectly reasonable, and moreover, Bahamut didn’t care about faith.
