Chapter 18: Intimidation
Anse looked at all this before him, his gaze deep and thoughtful. Although he had temporarily escaped the crisis of life and death, he didn’t feel too excited or happy inside.
Feeling pity is me, standing by idly is me, empathizing is me, being powerless is also me…
He suddenly felt that the concept of alignment was truly wondrous.
If he had transmigrated here during his teenage years, he would most likely be of lawful good alignment, making the same choice as the old priest.
But after being influenced by society, suffering countless losses and lessons, he realized that many people’s misfortunes were caused by their own personality and choices, and momentary help couldn’t change their destiny.
Moreover, not everyone is worth helping.
His own life was already a mess, getting involved in too much trouble would only waste time, energy, and money in vain. In comparison, his family needed him more.
‘Time to go!’
Livington gave him a bad feeling. Along the way, he could always perceive ill-intentioned gazes. Tens of thousands of refugees crowded together, with negative emotions continuously building up, feeling like it was bound to explode sooner or later.
Moreover, staying in the church always led to various moral dilemmas. If something really happened, he’d be caught in a bind, so better out of sight, out of mind.
After a while, Land and Zahir hurriedly returned.
The ill-intentioned gazes in the shadows gradually disappeared one by one. They dared to bully the priest of Lothander, but might not dare to provoke followers of Tyr.
Anse gave Brat and the others a look, and the group gathered together.
“Leaving?” Brat seemed to guess something.
“Yeah.” Anse nodded, “We’ll go say goodbye, then find a place to stay, procure some supplies, and leave tomorrow morning.”
“Where to?” Brat’s expression was complex.
Last year, he had hastily ended his somewhat unpleasant adventuring career and chosen Baldur’s Gate as his settlement. Everything had just gotten on track, only to abruptly end again.
“North is all duergar, south is wilderness and forest, further south is Candlekeep…” Anse pondered, “East then, follow the Chongsa River, and think about the rest later.”
He wanted to go to Waterdeep, but going straight north definitely wouldn’t work.
“I have no family, anywhere is fine.” Finn looked indifferent.
“I have no objections. For accommodation and procurement, I suggest the Adventurer’s Guild. In these extraordinary times, that’s relatively the safest place.” Brat suggested.
“You’re a veteran adventurer, we’ll listen to you.” Anse grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.
They didn’t disturb Land. The three found the old priest Berg together, said a simple goodbye, and left the church.
The old priest tried several times to speak and ask them to stay, but in the end said nothing, just watching them leave.
Just after leaving the church area, Anse noticed gazes with unclear intentions shooting from all around, constantly roaming over the group’s backpacks and bags.
Professionals are indeed powerful, but low-level professionals can’t withstand a group attack. There are more than one or two professionals who have died under pitchforks.
Anse wasn’t too worried. High-level professionals wouldn’t look at their meager possessions, same-level professionals and commoners picking a fight would be asking for death. He wasn’t an ordinary spellcaster.
Walking on the street, the air was filled with an indescribable stench. The streetsides were crammed with disaster victims, many lying outdoors on a tattered blanket. If not for the slightly rising and falling chests, they’d be mistaken for corpses.
The deeper into the city district, the worse it got. This was no longer the Livington in the original host’s memory.
Brat led the way at the front when a scrawny boy stumbled over and quietly reached into the bundle on his back.
A hint of joy just appeared on the boy’s face when a large hand reached over and gripped his slender wrist.
“Daring to steal from me!” Brat turned his head, looking amused, but upon seeing the boy’s sallow, emaciated, sickly appearance, he couldn’t help but loosen his grip a bit.
The boy took the chance to break free, squatting on the ground with an extremely frightened look, scrambling backward with hands and feet:
“Ah, help! Someone’s trafficking people—”
Brat’s face immediately darkened, but he didn’t argue loudly; that wasn’t his style.
The people around scattered like they had seen the plague, even the corpse-like refugees rolled away wrapped in their blankets.
At the same time, a dozen sturdy young men surrounded them from all sides. The leading man was burly, bald and beardless, wearing scale armor with a robe on top.
Seeing the leading man, Anse immediately understood what was happening. He slightly closed his eyes and quickly mobilized his mana.
The bald man sneered coldly, his gaze sweeping over the staff in Anse’s hand before landing on Brat: “Outlander, do you know…”
“Sorcerous Burst-Thunder”（Dragon Speech）
A short dragon speech rang in everyone’s ears, a flash of light streaked across, landing on the bald man’s big face, and thunder erupted with a boom.
Anse didn’t pause, throwing three sorcerous bursts into the dense crowd within two seconds.
“Boom boom boom—”
As the smoke and dust cleared, people were sprawled all around, few injured, most just scared.
The bald man had just climbed to his feet, ears ringing, face covered in blood, right arm a bloody mess. If he hadn’t blocked with his arm just now, that face might not have been saved.
In front of him, Brat was in an offensive posture, Finn had already jumped onto the nearby rooftop, arrow nocked.
Anse gestured to the two, signaling them not to attack.
“Bald Bill, has your Iron Anchor Brotherhood changed businesses?”
He knew the other party. The Iron Anchor Brotherhood was a local gang, long haunting the dock area of Livington, bullying the weak and fearing the strong.
So he chose to strike first, mainly to intimidate. He didn’t believe trash that survived by oppressing the bottom rung would fight to the death knowing they were outmatched.
“Ah?” Bald Bill’s body stiffened, the longsword he’d just raised drooping dejectedly. He grabbed a corner of his robe to wipe the blood from his eyes, sized Anse up and down, looking bewildered, “Who are you?”
“Does it matter who I am?” Anse deliberately hardened his face to intimidate him, “If you don’t give me an explanation today, I’ll sell you all to Sel.”
In Baldur’s Gate, if you accidentally provoked someone you shouldn’t, either fight to the death or pay money to settle it.
At this moment, the dice popped up the opponent’s info: 【Bald Bill, human, level 1 warrior】
“Misunderstanding, misunderstanding, this… mage sir.” Bald Bill waved his hands and stepped back two paces, “The kids below didn’t explain clearly. I just came to ask…”
“Keep making it up!” Anse crossed his arms, looking like he had him pinned.
“Uh,” Bald Bill squeezed out a smile, “Sir, we left in too much of a hurry, brought nothing, not even food, so we took a risk on this. You know, our brotherhood never robs…”
Anse raised his hand to cut off his sob story, pointing at the scale armor on him: “Nice scale armor, and you have a money bag, gems. Hand them over voluntarily, I’m giving you a chance. Don’t think I’m easy to talk to.”
Bald Bill was a professional, and the others had weapons too. They could win in a fight, but it would definitely consume their already limited mana and stamina.
The situation here was too chaotic; being in poor condition made it easy for others to take advantage. Better to intimidate than fight if possible.
Intimidation wasn’t just verbal charisma; with skills and charisma attribute bonuses, it had powerful mental influence, especially under martial deterrence.
“This…” Bald Bill’s face flickered uncertainly, then he gritted his teeth and started taking off his clothes.
The opponent didn’t demand weapons or food, hitting exactly his psychological bottom line.
What bad luck today. Weren’t mages unable to cast spells anymore? How did he get hit with spells right in the face? He’d seen plenty of cantrips, but never one with such fast casting speed.
Seeing the boss yield, the others could only empty their pockets too, soon piling up a small heap.
Anse ignored whether they held anything back, quietly giving Brat a look.
Brat used the scale armor robe to bundle everything up into a package, carrying it in hand, silently giving Anse a thumbs up in his mind.
Thanks to Hyperion Master, Glorious Poem, I am truly nameless, Chi Li Fu Nai Nai, Silver Spring, sXuan Yuan Yi Xing s, and other book friends for the rewards.
Thanks to all reader lords for your support and suggestions!
