Anser immersed himself in the torrent of arcane knowledge, letting his body quietly transform.
Ninth-level spells represented the culmination of their respective schools of magic. They were far more profound than ordinary spells and extraordinarily difficult to learn, master, and use.
Of course, none of that had anything to do with Anser.
After an unknown amount of time, he opened his eyes. Flickering firelight was reflected across the black stone walls.
He froze for a moment, then immediately raised both hands. A faint layer of golden-red flames clung to his soft scales, gently flickering.
'Phoenix Flames?'
With a thought, the flames receded into his soft scales until they were almost imperceptible.
He carefully sensed the changes in his body while bringing up his Character Sheet to examine his newly acquired supernatural ability, "Rebirth Through Fire."
After Phoenix Flames manifested as a supernatural ability, it merged with his true dragon body and would automatically trigger upon his death.
This was an enormous enhancement. After all, death was inherently difficult to predict, and there might not be enough time to actively cast the spell.
In addition, he could now add Phoenix Flames damage to his normal attacks, dealing an extra 2d6 (2–12) radiant damage.
'This is ridiculously strong.' Anser smiled.
His Dragonkind Transformation and Transcendent Form, combined with Monk techniques, Divine Smite, Action Surge, Psionic Power, Sacred Flame... The abilities of his various classes stacked together, making his melee capabilities downright explosive.
So what if someone was a Barbarian? In close-quarters combat, Anser clearly had the greater advantage.
The other spell, Time Stop, had also given him considerable insight.
His previous understanding of Time Stop had been somewhat off. It wasn't until he mastered the spell himself that he finally grasped its true nature.
The spell affected him directly, freeing him from the constraints of time and making the world appear frozen relative to him.
During that period, as long as he didn't interfere with anyone else, no one would notice anything.
But if he were to pin Iris down and forcefully do something bad to her, the flow of time would be disrupted and the spell would end.
'Can't make any big moves.' Anser secretly found that rather regrettable.
If he encountered a Time Wizard who could manipulate time like he could, the other party might be able to perceive his actions.
But noticing them didn't mean they could interrupt them.
'If only Time Stop could manifest as a supernatural ability.'
He shook his head regretfully, then examined his upgraded Character Sheet.
After leveling up, his Hit Points had reached 295. The increase in his Constitution had correspondingly increased the amount by which his Hit Points grew.
His Magic Power had reached 451. In theory, he could continuously cast twenty-six ninth-level spells, and he would be even stronger within areas covered by the Spirit Net.
However, repeatedly using Quickened Spell in a short period placed too great a burden on his body, mind, and soul. Even he needed time to recover between barrages and could cast at most around a dozen ninth-level spells at once.
'That's enough. More than enough.' Anser was very satisfied.
No one could reach the heavens in a single step. Even reaching his current level had been the result of accumulating improvements little by little.
There were still more than thirty-six thousand experience points left in his experience pool, leaving him less than four thousand short of his next level.
Going from level 17 to 18 and from 18 to 19 both required forty thousand experience points. By that calculation, he had gained around seventy thousand experience points from this battle in total.
'Less than I expected.' He smacked his lips.
The orc coalition had padded its numbers with large numbers of goblins, and each goblin grunt provided fewer than 25 experience points. They simply weren't worth much.
The elite Eyes of Gruumsh had calmly evaded the attack under the half-orc Chosen's command and hadn't suffered serious losses.
The main reason was that Anser had been casting from too far away to see clearly, essentially firing blind. Meteor Swarm also wasn't dense enough, leaving vast "safe zones" across the battlefield.
Recruits fear artillery; veterans fear the bugle.
Anyone who had been on a battlefield knew that when artillery fire came down, you had to remain calm and never run around blindly.
If you couldn't immediately determine where the shells would land, finding cover where you were was the best option.
Looking at his Character Sheet, Anser felt an urge to head over to Baldur's Gate and harvest another batch.
'No rush. I'm a little tired today. I can scrape together this much experience easily enough.'
Baldur's Gate had plenty of cover, and he didn't want to turn the original body's homeland into a wasteland either.
With that thought, he lay back down on the bed and leisurely browsed the Spirit Net.
The top headline in the news section was a freshly published article: [Meteors Descend, Orc Doomsday!]
The moment he opened it, light and shadow shifted around him, making it seem as though he were standing in Suzail. Dozens of fiery meteors descended from above like the coming of the apocalypse, creating an overwhelming sense of pressure.
Just as the meteors were about to strike, the projection abruptly vanished.
The viewer's emotions were yanked back and forth only to be left hanging without any release, making the suspense almost unbearable.
The news article then appeared, interspersed with more than a dozen images of the scorched battlefield. They were uncensored and crystal clear, with tremendous visual impact.
Anser glanced at the publisher. The other party hadn't posted anonymously, and his title was "Wandering Silver Owl."
Oghma's Chosen, the bard Shamar!
'A war correspondent, huh.'
He skimmed through the article. The writing wasn't particularly literary, but it was very down-to-earth, peppered with all sorts of exaggerated rhetoric and exclamations that made it highly immersive.
The first part of the article described the spectacular sight and terrifying destructive power of Meteor Swarm. The middle depicted the orcs' miserable condition, while the entire latter section lavished praise on Anser's astonishing feat and unparalleled arcane prowess.
The article hadn't been up for long, yet more than ten thousand comments had already appeared at the bottom. Its popularity was staggering.
'As expected of a bard. He really knows how to talk.' Anser sighed, genuinely unsure how to judge it.
With the advent of the Spirit Net, information now spread across Faerûn faster than at any point in history.
By now, the incident had probably already spread throughout Faerûn and become the focus of countless conversations.
Even if Anser wanted to keep a low profile now, there was no chance of that happening.
The forums were even livelier. Someone had specifically created a "Holrewen Forum," and every post there was discussing him.
People who had met him before were digging up everything they knew about his past.
Anser casually browsed through them and found that quite a few details actually matched, though the accounts of how things had happened were wildly off. There was far more speculation and praise than fact.
The hottest post prominently featured a photo of his profile—the very one Shamar had taken of him back then.
'That Shamar...'
It wasn't as though Anser could ask him to delete the post. After all, he'd taken a photo of Shamar too.
Compared to the forums, the activity in several group chats was relatively normal. There simply weren't that many people in them, and sending messages and images cost money.
Holrewen had three work groups: an administrative group, a councilors' group, and a general federation group.
None of them had many members. Even the general federation group only had a little over a hundred people, including quite a few lower-level officials.
That was the result of Anser deliberately keeping their numbers under control so that no one would grow suspicious.
The federation officials were extremely excited, their messages brimming with undisguised admiration and pride.
That was only natural. When your own boss was this powerful, who wouldn't feel emboldened?
"Keep a low profile, do your work steadily, don't let it go to your heads, and don't start throwing your weight around..." Anser warned them in the group.
He was worried that people would get carried away and that his subordinates might do something outrageous under the Federation's banner—or his own. In the end, all of it would be blamed on him.
The more everything seemed to be going perfectly, the more important it was to settle down and focus on development. Taking flattery as fact would inevitably make people lose their judgment and stray down the wrong path.
'The Holrewen Federation is about to take off.'
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