Illithid larvae are born within egg sacs. Each sac contains thousands of eggs, placed by adult Mind Flayers upon the surface of the brain pool's fluid.
After hatching, the larvae appear as purplish-red, tadpole-like creatures about 7.5 centimeters long. They breathe through gills, feed on brain matter paste, and possess rudimentary telepathic abilities, allowing simple mental communication with their elder brain and others of their kind.
Therefore, carrying such a thing at one's side is extremely dangerous—it can easily attract other Intellect Devourers or Mind Flayers.
Anser recalled the underground prison in the Black Tower. If he were to find a few death-row inmates, have them implanted with Mind Flayer tadpoles, cultivate them into Mind Flayers, and then kill them, leveling up would be absurdly easy.
However, newly born Mind Flayers are relatively weak. They must consume brains and rely on the elder brain's assistance to rapidly reach their fully mature state. The experience points they provide might fall far short of expectations.
As for the idea of enslaving a Mind Flayer, he dismissed it the moment it surfaced. That was not courting death—it was seeking it outright.
Voluntarily allowing a Mind Flayer tadpole to parasitize him was the same. Although one could gain psionic abilities, the creature that remained alive would no longer be you.
'Seal it in the Black Tower prison for now. Hopefully it won't starve to death anytime soon.'
The Black Tower existed in an otherworldly space. Even if the Mind Flayer larva screamed its throat raw, it would be impossible for it to contact its kin or the elder brain.
He took out the Rod of Security and used its projection to inspect the interior. He discovered that the treant Old Moss had already awakened and was directing the Kobolds in place of Bratt, repairing the plaza and clearing the island.
A treant lives long. It may not necessarily possess the highest Intelligence, but it knows much—Draconic, Elvish, and the Common tongue of Faerûn alike.
It had also animated two trees to serve as overseers. Though the trees had no brains, they could act as extensions of its limbs, disciplining and instructing the Kobolds.
When finished, the animated trees could choose suitable locations to take root again. Over time, the forest upon the island would become orderly.
'Not bad.' Anser nodded in satisfaction.
With a treant holding the fort, no one would dare rebel. The safety of Holrewen required no concern.
Using the mark of the paradise, he notified Bratt. After waiting several dozen seconds, he summoned him out.
Bratt staggered, then steadied himself. After scanning his surroundings and seeing the bustling streets, his eyes widened at once: "So this is Durlag? Shouldn't we go on a massive shopping spree?"
Holrewen at present was truly too monotonous—whatever one wanted, it lacked.
"I was thinking the same." Anser removed the Treasure Coin Pouch from his waist and tossed it to Bratt. "There's a little under two thousand gold pieces inside, along with some gems. If it's not enough, put it on credit—I'll go borrow more from someone.
"Besides food, tools, seeds, and daily necessities, try to buy some living creatures as well—fish, shrimp, small animals, and the like. Improve the ecosystem as much as possible. I'll come to collect the goods this evening."
The island is so large—with forests, rivers, lakes, and the ocean—that not raising anything on it would be a waste. As long as a complete ecosystem was established, food would come in an endless stream, with no need to rely on outside supplies.
"Don't worry, I get it." Bratt didn't understand the term "ecosystem," but he understood what Anser meant.
Bratt left in high spirits with Giant Tail and Finn, ready to make a big go of it.
Anser rode his horse into a narrow alley. Seeing no one around, he quietly teleported into Holrewen.
When the treant Old Moss saw Anser, it came running over with heavy steps, crushing quite a few more floor tiles.
"Don't—" Anser hurriedly stopped it. Riding up beside it, he pointed toward the woodland and said, "You're too heavy. From now on, just stay on the island. During the day, help direct the Kobolds…"
"I know." Old Moss spread its hands, looking as if it were only natural. "This is all broken. It definitely has to be rebuilt."
Anser's expression stiffened. Old Moss wouldn't be assuming that every mage was as rich as the Black Tower's master, would it?
"It can't be rebuilt for now. We don't have money—we can only do some basic repairs. Take it easy, alright?" he instructed patiently.
"Oh… you can copy magic scrolls or brew some magic potions to sell. Then wouldn't you have money?" the treant said casually.
Anser was struck as if by lightning. With a powerless sigh, he waved his hand. "Go on with your work."
He swung down from the horse, signaled Nornoth to move freely, and silently walked toward the Black Tower.
'Should I learn alchemy or something?'
To be honest, when problems arose, he was more inclined to solve them with spells. Alchemy, scrolls, and the like required a great deal of time to study and practice—something that couldn't be mastered in just a few days.
'I'll think about it after things settle down.'
He entered the Black Tower and went down the stairs to the second underground level.
This was the Black Tower prison, with dozens upon dozens of cells in different layouts—presumably each with a different purpose.
The bones inside had already been cleared away. It looked very clean, with no foul odor and no gloomy feel.
Anser placed the Brain Fluid Jar into a sealed black-stone cell, then shut the door. The arcane lock was integrated with the Black Tower itself and could only be opened through the permissions corresponding to the paradise mark.
He set the door-lock permissions to the highest level—only he could open it—to prevent others from entering by mistake.
'That'll do for now.'
With that dangerous item dealt with, he felt much more at ease, and went upstairs to inspect the Black Tower's condition.
The animal carcasses teleported over yesterday had all been cut up and stored in another ice cellar. The only issue was that there was a bit too little ice, so he fired off a few Rays of Frost to lower the cellar's temperature.
The Black Tower had already been cleaned spotless, with the main contributors being those animated brooms.
If it had been left to Bratt and the others alone, they could have worked themselves to death and still not finished. Each floor of the Black Tower was two thousand square meters, with an inner diameter of over forty-five meters—it was not ordinary large.
Anser arrived at the top floor. There weren't many rooms, but each one was very large. Along the outer edge ran a circular walkway from which one could overlook the entire island.
Judging from the layout, this should have been the tower master's private space—used for resting, reading, meditation, and enjoying the view…
At the center stood a circular platform five meters in diameter, rising half a meter above the floor. Its surface was covered in various patterns, possibly some kind of magic array, yet there was no magical reaction at all.
According to Old Moss, the upper half of the Black Tower had once been destroyed. At most, this was only an array foundation.
'This is the tragedy of being illiterate. I'll borrow a few books from Iris later and study up.' He sat on the edge of the stone platform and looked up at the spire of the Black Tower.
It too was covered in all sorts of strange patterns. After staring at them for too long, his head began to spin.
In a daze, he heard a cat's meow by his ear. He sprang to his feet and turned his head, only to see a purple magic book with golden patterns floating behind him. A black cat was crouched atop it, its round dark eyes filled with curiosity.
"The Book of Castella!" Anser narrowed his eyes, astonishment in his expression. "You can actually come out?"
That meant this book possessed intelligence and authority not weaker than his own; otherwise, it would not have been able to enter the top level of the Black Tower at will.
This time, the black cat did not hide. Instead, it nodded seriously and lifted a small paw to pat the magic book beneath its feet.
"You want me to pick up this magic book?" Anser asked cautiously.
"Meow…" The black cat nodded again.
"What is it? Is it dangerous?" Anser did not dare act rashly. The former tower master was likely a legendary Wizard—his belongings certainly would not be simple.
After hesitating for a moment, the black cat actually nodded once more.
Anser's body stiffened. He quickly stepped back several paces, pointed at the ground before him, and said solemnly, "Then please go back. I don't think I'm ready."
The black cat tilted its head and studied him for a moment. Then its body shrank into the magic book. The next instant, the book vanished out of thin air, as if it had never appeared.
'It can teleport? I had to climb the stairs to get up here—who exactly is the tower master?' Anser was secretly alarmed.
That magic book was probably the highest-quality magic item he had ever seen—at the very least Legendary. He just did not know whether the danger came from the magic item itself or from some curse attached to it.
The die could not appraise it, and he had no other means.
However, the die's power was closely tied to his own strength. As long as he leveled up steadily, sooner or later he would be able to see through everything.
With that thought, he sat upon the stone platform and sank his mind into his consciousness.
Before he even had time to check the character sheet, he discovered that the sixth symbol on the silver twenty-sided die had already lit up.
'Huh? That's not right.'
He checked the die and the character sheet every night. Last night, that symbol had still been missing a small corner. It had seemed that at least a major battle would be required to light it up.
Today's battle had not even been particularly intense; he had only gained a few hundred experience points.
'Perhaps… the impact was significant!' he speculated.
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