Because the distance was too great, the dice couldn't detect any information about the artillery construct. But based on prior information and his own intuition, a guess surfaced in Anser's mind.
An artificer's arcane energy turret!
Artificers had several main branches: alchemists, arcane artillery specialists, field engineers, and armorers.
The core ability of arcane artillery specialists was to create arcane energy turrets—also called arcane cannons. Typically, they only had one, which could move freely. After unlocking the Fortified Position feature at level 15, they could possess two.
The appearance of arcane energy turrets varied wildly, entirely depending on the artificer's preferences, and their functions differed as well. The most common types were flamethrowers, defenders, and force cannons.
Judging from the current situation, that four-legged arcane energy turret was likely a force cannon. It could fire ranged spell attacks, dealing 2d8 (2–16) force damage.
This was just the baseline information for arcane energy turrets. Arcane artillery specialists would continuously upgrade their turrets, making them increasingly powerful. Some high-explosive variants could even self-destruct.
'Are they planning to use me as a test subject for an artificer's combat capabilities?' Anser frowned slightly.
As far as he knew, the Kingdom of Amn did cooperate with artificer organizations, but artificers had never appeared within the army.
Still, he wasn't overly concerned. A force-damage turret could indeed blast apart a city gate—but that would take time.
If not for today's battle, the enemy might have tried it. But now, wary of his high-altitude bombardment and burning tar strikes, they likely wouldn't dare act rashly.
Even so, he couldn't afford to be careless. Who knew how many arcane energy turrets Amn had, or how powerful they were?
After scanning the area once more, Anser flew down from the sky toward Durlag's Tower, maintaining Detect Evil and Good the entire time, his mind tense.
He only relaxed slightly after landing directly at the union headquarters without encountering the anticipated attack.
Seeing Quentin and the others coming to greet him, he silently let out a breath.
'Am I being too tense? Maybe the Amnians weren't thinking that far ahead at all.'
Graham and the others also visibly relaxed upon seeing him. Though they hadn't participated in the battle, they had been just as anxious.
Anser and Iris were the absolute core of Durlag's Tower. Their safety directly determined its survival.
"President, you shouldn't keep traveling back and forth so frequently. Just have Mr. Finn's Grey Eagle deliver messages," Quentin said with concern.
"Alright. You all should rest as well. Just maintain proper watch duty." Anser glanced at the brightly lit meeting room and felt there was no need to worry prematurely.
"We've been waiting for your good news, haha…" Quentin laughed heartily.
As soon as he said that, everyone smiled.
The higher-ups had all witnessed that battle. While the exact results were unclear, just seeing the sky filled with explosions made it obvious that Amn had suffered heavy losses.
The news had already spread throughout the union and half the city, greatly boosting morale.
"Over two hundred dead, and even more injured…" Anser said with a smile. "How's the tar procurement going?"
"We got over a hundred more barrels. When the merchants heard it was to burn Amnians, they brought out all their stock. But hardly anyone hoards this stuff, so buying more will probably take some time," Graham replied.
"Keep purchasing it long-term." Anser considered tar a strategic weapon—stockpiling more could only help. "Have the post-war compensations and pensions been handled?"
"Mostly done. But some guards' families aren't here, so we've sent people to notify them…" Quentin explained.
"Mm. What about the werewolf corpses?" Anser needed that money to stabilize their finances.
Quentin and Graham exchanged a glance, both smiling.
Graham spoke, "All the werewolf corpses have been sold—but not to the Hunters' Guild or the Adventurers' Guild. A bald mage named Sosk bought them. He said he's your friend, and he offered the highest price."
"One hundred and twelve werewolf corpses were priced individually, totaling 19,200 gold coins—over 170 gold per corpse."
"That high?" Anser was a bit surprised, but after thinking it through, it made sense.
Werewolves were Challenge Rating 3 monsters. After death, they turned into werewolves and dire wolves—their fur, claws, fangs, and bodies were all valuable magical materials. It was only natural for alchemists to pay high prices.
Seen this way, the Emerald Enclave and the Flamerule Mercenary Company not mentioning the corpses was essentially doing him a favor.
At that moment, the finance officer, Little Harold, stepped forward and handed Anser a leather case.
"President, the money is all here."
"Good." Anser took it decisively and stored it in the Avaricious Dragonhide Pouch.
Strictly speaking, this wasn't proper procedure—mixing public and private funds—but no one in the union cared.
The previous president did nothing and still took his full share.
Anser glanced at Little Harold. He did resemble the old steward somewhat. Though not particularly close, their relationship was still closer than that between Anser and the other council members.
"Go get some rest. Strengthen the watch," Anser said, waving his hand.
"Yes…"
Anser moved over a hundred and thirty barrels of tar from the union warehouse into the black tower storage room. After instructing Quentin to take charge, he flew alone back to Fort Jacqueline.
For now, communication between the two locations would rely on Grey Eagle messages to avoid unexpected incidents.
At Fort Jacqueline, Iris seemed to know Anser wouldn't enter through the main gate—she was already waiting for him in the bedroom.
"Are you doing another air raid tonight?" Seeing the smile on his face, she knew he had gained something.
"No. We'll see their movements tomorrow before deciding." Anser wrapped an arm around her waist, inhaling deeply. "I spotted something that might be an arcane energy turret. Amn may still have a trump card, so we'll hold off on using the tar."
"What's an arcane energy turret? An arcane cannon?" Iris asked.
"Have you heard of artificers?"
"I've heard of them, but I don't know much."
"Arcane energy turrets are the signature ability of arcane artillery specialists…" Anser explained carefully.
Artificers were a relatively new class. Many people had never seen one and knew very little about them.
After listening, Iris's expression changed slightly.
"If not for that air raid earlier, could the Amnians have launched a night attack on us?"
"Possibly. Artificers are good at creating all kinds of tools and devices—especially things like gunpowder. Sneaking in to blow up the city gates wouldn't be impossible," Anser speculated.
"Don't worry. The detection array is fully activated. No one can approach within a hundred meters of the castle without being discovered." Iris looked calm, her eyes full of confidence.
"Mm." Anser nodded, then lifted her and placed her by the bedside. "Come, let me show you something interesting."
"No, this isn't the time for that." Iris pushed him and tried to stand.
Anser wrapped his arms around her, took out a maple-leaf-shaped badge, and held it before her eyes. "What are you thinking? I mean this—the Traveler's Badge. Ever heard of it?"
"Oh." Iris's neck reddened slightly, but she sat back down beside him, maintaining a composed tone. "No."
"Lacking in knowledge, aren't you? This thing can teleport you to a legendary inn floating in the astral sea…" Anser stopped teasing and began explaining the fabled Traveler's Rest.
This legendary inn had existed for a very long time, but those who had visited might not speak of it. Combined with the rarity of the badge, its existence likely wasn't widely known.
The reason he told Iris was mainly because he needed the wealth of the Jacqueline family to engage in planar trade—the more capital, the greater the returns.
Secondly, it was for insurance. If he were to vanish in the Astral Plane and fail to return, at least someone would know his whereabouts and could attempt a rescue, rather than him disappearing without a trace.
The probability was extremely low—but it couldn't be ignored.
If he could gain something from Traveler's Rest, the crisis before them might be resolved with ease.
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