Whether the Mind Flayers are trying to rebuild a multiversal empire or not, their unchecked expansion is an established fact, and their conflict with the races of the world is practically irreconcilable.
No one wants to be enslaved.
And enslavement by Mind Flayers is not merely physical pain and torment. They treat living beings as experimental subjects, surgically removing brains and other organs while still alive to store in brain chambers for psionic research—or simply for entertainment.
Brains are also the primary food source of Mind Flayers. While consuming them, they absorb fragments of the victim's memories and personality as well.
As a result, the cultural complexity of a Mind Flayer depends heavily on the kinds of brains included in its diet, despite them all being equally intelligent.
For example, Mind Flayers that feed on subterranean blindfolk tend to appear crude and uncivilized, while communities that prey on elves are noticeably more refined. This difference can be seen in details such as architecture, clothing, and ornamentation.
There is simply no basis for coexistence between this species and other humanoids.
If you ever encounter a Mind Flayer, don't hesitate—just kill it.
The destruction suffered by Rock of Bral was largely the result of the royal family's flawed strategy. They had insisted on wiping the enemy out in one decisive strike, when in reality, it might have been better to hit hard the moment they made contact and drive them away directly.
The three chatted casually for a while. Soon, the sun rose high overhead, golden light spilling across the entire city.
"This sun?" Anser asked in surprise, because he realized the sunrise and sunset of Rock of Bral were completely different from Toril's.
Last time, he had stayed hidden in the halfling's room the entire time and never paid close attention.
"You've never seen it before, huh? Bral has propulsion—it can fly and rotate through space." Osborn grinned as he explained. "When the city faces away from the sun, it's night. When it rotates back toward it, it becomes day. The schedule is generally synchronized with Faerûn."
"Interesting." Anser felt that Bral was basically a massive spaceship.
Beside them, General Smokefire scratched his head with a confused look on his face and asked, "You're not from Rock of Bral?"
"I'm from Faerûn," Anser replied with a smile. "This is my residence on Bral. If you need me, you can come here, though I'm usually not around."
Hearing that, Osborn leaned forward and peeked into the room, only to find it in complete disarray, as though it had just been ransacked.
Unable to hide his surprise, he asked, "What happened here? Want me to look into it for you?"
"This used to be the secret hideout of that group of star pirates. They had already fled by the time I found it, so I just took it over for myself." Anser pointed at the Arcane Lock on the doors and windows. "I'll give you access permissions in a bit. When I'm away, help me keep an eye on the place."
After several interactions, he felt Osborn was completely trustworthy. First deepen the relationship, then find an opportunity later to bring him into the Union.
"You can leave it to me." Osborn pounded his chest forcefully with a serious expression.
Forget house-sitting—if Anser told him to steal the royal princess's underwear, he wouldn't hesitate for even a second.
After chatting for a while longer, General Smokefire departed.
Anser granted Osborn access to the Arcane Lock, bid him farewell, and cast Teleportation Circle to return to the Black Tower.
Osborn stared at the closing portal with unconcealed envy. If given the choice, who wouldn't want to become a spellcaster?
Seeing the stone building in disarray, he casually tidied up the room, shut the doors and windows, and prepared to leave.
Outside in the alleyway, a squad of imposing warriors clad in silver armor was marching briskly toward the stone building.
The clanking of armor and heavy footsteps quickly caught Osborn's attention. Looking out the window, he frowned in confusion.
"The Royal Guard? What are they doing here?"
...
Black Tower, inside the Astrolabe Orbit Array, Anser's figure appeared silently.
He immediately activated the Rod of Security and teleported into the bedroom of Fort Jacqueline.
'Perfect success!'
On the bed, Iris turned over and sat up, giving him a quick once-over before lazily lying back down again.
"What took you so long? I was already getting ready to come pick you up."
Anser caught sight of the Teleportation Cube resting beside the pillow and instantly understood what she had been planning.
"No need to come get me. I can return anytime." He took off his boots and lay down on the bed, pulling Iris into his arms as he recounted everything that had happened on Rock of Bral.
Iris had been quite worried at first, but after hearing that he had acted relatively cautiously this time instead of going off alone, she finally relaxed.
"You want to bring the halflings of the Burrows District into the Union?"
"For now, just cooperation. We can talk about joining later."
Anser still couldn't figure out the attitude of the royal family of Rock of Bral and had no intention of touching their sensitive nerves.
"That's fine too. There's no need to rush it. Make preparations first and wait until Bral stabilizes." Iris frowned slightly, clearly concerned about the existence of the Mind Flayers.
"I know. The priority right now is still White Stone Island... and my extradimensional space." Anser already had his own plans in mind.
White Stone Island was the rear base on the surface, while Holrewen was his true foundation.
"I want to see it," Iris suddenly said, gazing at him quietly.
"Of course. We can go right now." Anser took out the Rod of Security with a grin.
Iris respected his privacy very much and rarely asked about his affairs. Since she had finally brought it up herself, there was no way he would refuse.
"Then... let me change clothes first." Iris threw off the silk blanket, hurried out of bed, and walked barefoot across the carpet toward the door.
"There's no need, is there? There aren't many people there."
"There is."
Watching her figure disappear through the doorway, Anser shook his head, put his boots back on, and walked to the window.
He raised the long-range viewing device before his eyes, locking onto the lush forest in the distance. After observing for a moment, he quickly spotted the wyverns.
Several wyverns were gliding and circling above the forest with a fixed patrol range, clearly standing watch.
'Once my magic power recovers, I'll go take a look.'
He felt the changes near his doorstep were more important than what was happening on Rock of Bral.
'If it really is a ruin, I can't afford to miss it either. Though trying to seize it right under the wyverns' noses won't be easy,' he thought to himself.
If all those dozen-plus wyverns were present, it really would be difficult to deal with.
A quarter of an hour later, Iris returned.
She had changed into a fitted purple hunting outfit, her hair tied back, her face free of makeup. Standing there graceful and slender, she looked completely different from before.
"You look beautiful," Anser praised.
"Hehe." Iris smiled brightly and wrapped herself around his arm. "Let's go."
"Don't resist. I'll teleport you inside."
Anser waved the Rod of Security, placing the Paradise Mark on Iris. The next instant, the two vanished from the room together.
A second later, they appeared on the twelfth floor of the Black Tower.
Anser held Iris's hand as he showed her around and introduced her to everyone else.
Salian, Colin, Bratt, and the others were all familiar faces. The rest had also heard of Iris before, so both sides quickly became acquainted.
Everyone had just finished eating and was preparing to head out to the fields to sow seeds.
Anser simply had Bratt act as a guide and brought the group outside to take a look around.
He had not paid much attention for some time, and Holrewen had already undergone earthshaking changes, with the treants contributing the greatest share of the work.
Thanks to the tireless labor of more than three hundred kobolds and over a hundred people, the island within the extradimensional space now had over sixteen acres of cultivated farmland planted with grain and vegetables: wheat, corn, potatoes, tomatoes, cabbage, cucumbers...
There were also more than two acres of fruit saplings, mostly raspberries, which were likewise the result of the treants' labor.
The cultivated area was not especially large, but the variety of crops was impressive.
Within a few months, Holrewen would achieve basic self-sufficiency.
Anser planned to recruit another batch of farmers to accelerate development. The number did not need to be too high—under three hundred would be enough. Any more than that would become difficult to support. After all, he couldn't keep moonlighting as a deliveryman every few days.
Once the harvests began rolling in and resources started circulating naturally, that would be the time to absorb refugees on a large scale.
In addition, the island's ecosystem had become far more complete. The insect population had exploded, and small herbivorous animals could occasionally be spotted. Compared to before, the place had become much more "lively."
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