After selecting his feat, Anser began choosing spells.
"Arcane Resonance" granted him a 2nd-level evocation spell. The available options were limited; after a brief look, he chose the utility spell "Darkness."
It could create an area of darkness with a diater of at least 9 ters at a designated location, lasting ten minutes. Darkvision could not see through this darkness, and nonmagical light could not illuminate it.
It could also be applied to an object, making it convenient for causing trouble.
The second spell could only be chosen from the Sorcerer class spell list. He did not hesitate and instantly selected "Misty Step"!
This was a 2nd-level conjuration spell that could teleport oneself to a visible space within no more than 9 ters. It required no gestures or materials and was nearly instantaneous, making it excellent for both survival and pursuit.
With high Charisma enhancing it, the teleportation distance of Misty Step reached a bit over ten ters; dodging fireballs and javelin throws would beco routine.
[Feat: Mark of Storm; Spells: Darkness, Misty Step. Confirm?]
'Confirm!'
The next mont, the magic power within his body seed to lose control, surging violently. Every soft scale emitted a faint tallic sheen; his body tingled all over as countless inherited mories rose and fell within his mind.
Suddenly, wind sprang up in the room!
The wind grew stronger and stronger. The oil lamp was swept out instantly; clothes, bedsheets, water cups… were flung everywhere. Doors and windows howled, as if the roof would be torn off the next mont.
Bratt and the other person were startled. In a flurry, they pressed down weapons and fragile items, standing in front of the windows and the washroom—breaking them would be impossible to pay for.
Fortunately, the storm ca fast and went just as fast. Before long, the room fell silent again, with only the ss on the floor bearing witness to what had just happened.
After a long while, Anser opened his eyes, the faint glimr of magic within his pupils slow to fade.
He pulled open his cloak. On the surface of the soft scales at the back of his neck, strange and intricate magical patterns erged, faintly visible.
This was the Mark of Storm—granting the spell-like ability Gust of Wind, like an innate biological instinct, unaffected by external environntal conditions.
"I feel… great."
He waved a hand at Bratt and the other, signaling that he was fine.
This upgrade was truly massive. His Charisma had reached 19, and his spellcasting ability received an all-around enhancent.
He had also learned four 2nd-level spells and two 1st-level spells. Although he had not gained a single direct damage spell, his available thods were greatly enriched, and his survivability surged.
In addition, his Hit Point had reached 36, and his Magic Power had reached 28, allowing him to cast nine 2nd-level spells in one go. His firepower density had risen another notch.
However, reaching level five required 6,500 experience points—far more difficult than going from level one to level four.
'Combat power can't be judged by level alone!'
With his current strength, fighting enemies three levels higher was not difficult. As long as he did not run into an abnormal genius, he could still put up a fight.
Knock, knock, knock…
A series of knocks on the door interrupted his thoughts.
Looking at the ss filling the room, Bratt felt utterly exhausted. With a sigh, he helplessly got up to open the door.
Outside, Darla stood with her hands on her hips, face taut. "What are you doing? How can you cast spells inside the room?"
Bratt gave an awkward smile. "Sorry. It happened suddenly. Nothing was damaged, really."
Darla glanced into the room and happened to et Anser's gaze. She paused slightly, then imdiately looked away, the expression on her face easing.
"No next ti. Hurry up and clean this place. I'll co check tomorrow. If there's any damage, you'll have to compensate at full price."
"No problem," Bratt agreed at once.
After seeing Darla head downstairs, he quickly shut the door and looked at Anser with a resentful expression.
It was not that he was being petty—what had just happened was genuinely terrifying. Even the ceiling had been shaking.
"An accident, an accident," Anser said. He had not expected this either and quickly changed the subject. "Have you finished counting the spoils? How were the gains?"
"Not bad at all," Bratt replied, deliberately mimicking Darla's tone.
He sat down opposite Anser and laid everything out one by one.
Two coin pouches, two wands, a magic ring, two bottles of Common-quality healing potions, three bottles of unknown blue potions, two pocket watches, a belt pouch, and various other odds and ends.
There were no spellbooks. Perhaps they had all abandoned the path of the Wizard.
There were also no robes. Anser rembered that Fabian's robe had been quite good—most likely Gais had taken it to exchange for the "class change ritual."
He picked up one of the coin pouches. On the purple leather surface was painted a creature with the head of an eagle and the body of a lion. About the size of a palm, it emitted a faint fluctuation of magical power.
'This looks like Fabian's coin pouch.'
The dice rolled lightly, quickly identifying its information.
[Magic Item: Treasure Coin Pouch]
Category": Wondrous Item
Rarity: Common
This uniquely styled coin pouch is sewn in the form of a griffon's treasure saddlebag.
The pouch is 15 centiters wide and can hold up to 1,000 coins.
All coins taken from the pouch appear brand-new, as if freshly minted and gleaming. No matter how many coins are stored inside, the pouch always maintains a weight of 0.45 kilograms.
"This one's good!" Anser raised his eyebrows, revealing a hint of excitent.
He opened the pouch and poured it onto the floor. Coins clattered out like flowing water, creating a strong visual impact.
"So many, so many—count them quickly…" Bratt hurriedly lay on his side, blocking the coins and gemstones rolling everywhere.
Finn simply poured out the money from another pouch as well and counted them together.
"A bit on the low side." Anser glanced over it once; the proportion of platinum coins was very small.
The three gathered together and counted for quite a while. In total, there were sixteen gemstones of various colors, as well as coins worth over eight hundred gold coins.
The most nurous were silver and copper coins, amounting to five or six hundred. There were also several dozen relatively rare electrum coins, over two hundred gold coins, and more than fifty platinum coins—coins of all denominations were present.
Anser knew Fabian's money was definitely more than just this. He did not know Fabian's class level, but any wizard capable of building a wizard tower was either an elite professional or backed by a wealthy family; in any case, such a person would not be poor.
What was more, every year he could earn over a thousand gold coins from dozens of apprentices alone.
"It was all squandered by Gais—truly foolish, spending money to beco test subjects for an evil cult, grasping at straws in desperation…"
Fortunately, this coin pouch itself was excellent. Although its grade was not high, it was extrely practical. If taken to auction, there would certainly be professionals or nobles willing to pay a high price for it.
He continued checking the other loot and found that, among everything here, only this coin pouch was truly valuable. Aside from three bottles of healing potions, everything else was basically "junk."
There were two wands. One was an ordinary-quality fireworks wand that could only launch fireworks, useful for entertaining crowds or serving as a signal flare.
The other was a fine-quality web wand, imbued with a web spell. However, like the Goodberry staff, it relied on the Weave and spell slots and was extrely unstable; using it in combat would be tantamount to courting death.
The ring was a ring of water walking, fine-quality, imbued with a water walking spell, but it required the user to cast the spell personally, suffering from the sa problem as the web wand.
Magic items of this type were rapidly depreciating in value, and basically no one wanted them.
The effects of the four bottles of magic-purifying potions were unknown. No one dared to use them, so they could only be set aside for now.
Anser put all his own money and gemstones into the Treasure Coin Pouch. With this thing, no matter how much money he carried in the future, he would not have to worry about it dragging down his waist.
"How do we split it?"
Bratt and Finn exchanged a glance. "Eighty–twenty. You take eighty."
"That's too outrageous. Let's do sixty–forty." Anser did not deny his own importance, but he could not overly belittle his teammates' contributions.
Without Finn, he would not have been able to track the target at all. Bratt handled all the dirty and tiring work and charged in first every ti. Both were indispensable.
"Fine, we'll go with that."
"Mm."
The healing potions were public consumables. The magic items, gemstones, and miscellaneous goods would be sold first, and the money split afterward.
After deducting the more than three hundred gold coins the team still owed Anser, the final result was that Anser took the Treasure Coin Pouch and two hundred gold coins, while Bratt and Finn split the remaining money.
Overall, Anser still ca out ahead. The Treasure Coin Pouch was sothing money could not easily buy; it was not an item one could simply purchase at will.
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