Holrewen, Black Tower Prison.
Inside a dimly lit cell, more than a dozen people were restrained against the black stone walls on either side, staring in terror at an incubation pool in the center of the prison.
Beside the pool, a black-robed figure picked up a palm-sized, purple, olive-shaped jar, removed the lid, held it over the pool, and tilted it slightly.
A stream of murky white liquid poured into the incubation pool, carrying several tadpole-like creatures with it.
The moment they entered the pool, the half-dead tadpoles quickly recovered and began swimming freely through the water.
The black-robed figure observed them for a moment, set down the jar, picked up another, and repeated the process.
The tadpoles in this one were in even worse condition. One was already dead.
After a brief silence, the tadpoles in the pool suddenly went berserk and rushed at the corpse. Bite after bite, they devoured the dead tadpole almost instantly, leaving not even a scrap behind.
It was as though some instinct had awakened within them. They opened their mouths at their companions, revealing row upon row of tiny, razor-sharp teeth.
The black-robed figure struck the side of the incubation pool hard. At the same time, a wave of psionic power quietly reached into the pool.
The tadpoles soon calmed down, their viciousness disappearing as though nothing had happened.
The black-robed figure breathed a sigh of relief, reached into the pool, and scooped out a tadpole. After holding it between his fingers and examining it for a moment, he walked toward one of the men.
The man struggled desperately, veins bulging as incoherent muffled cries escaped his mouth, but he couldn't budge his restraints in the slightest.
The black-robed figure brought the tadpole up to the man's eyes. The tadpole writhed excitedly, then suddenly leaped onto his face, crawled to the corner of his eye, pulled open his eyelid, and burrowed inside.
The man's body went rigid, then began convulsing violently.
A dozen or so seconds later, his body went limp, his head slumping to one side as he lost consciousness.
At the sight, the others were so terrified that they lost control of their bodies. Some turned deathly pale, while others lost control of their bowels and bladders.
"Do you know? Back then, I had to spend everything I owned just to obtain this opportunity. Yet now, you get it without having to pay a thing. How ironic. You really should be grateful to my lord..."
The black-robed figure muttered to himself as he continued working, grabbing another tadpole and stuffing it into another person's nostril.
"Your crimes are beyond redemption, and you don't even have faith. No one will claim your souls after you die, so you might end up benefiting those devils for nothing. Better to remain here and serve my lord instead. Think of it as another way to live..."
Before long, all of them had completed symbiosis with the tadpoles.
This was a small-scale experiment. Sakkors would observe the symbiosis process through the Spirit Net Marks implanted beforehand, study its underlying principles, and upgrade the Spirit Net Mark's functions so that, under "strong control," it would possess the ability to implant mental suggestions.
If the experiment succeeded, the remaining Mind Flayer tadpoles could be destroyed.
A group of gray-robed figures entered, took the symbiotes out of the prison, and placed them in separate rooms.
...
"Phew—"
In a room on the top floor, Anser ended his observation, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.
He shook his head. These were vicious extremists who endangered society. Brainwashing them so they could become useful again—or having them die in the course of the experiment—could absolutely be considered a good deed. Paladins and clerics didn't "convert" wayward believers with words alone. Sometimes, drastic measures were necessary.
Still, symbiosis with Mind Flayer tadpoles couldn't be abused. Even if those people deserved to die, experiments like this were still somewhat cruel. If the Spirit Net Mark could gain some of the abilities of Mind Flayer tadpoles, it could be used to reform faithless prisoners and slightly increase the number of Spirit Net maintainers.
These people would be instilled with vast amounts of knowledge and would also wield psionic power, giving them extraordinary mental capabilities. Put them in practically any position, and they could make themselves useful.
'I still need to send some of them out to reinforce the Federation's middle ranks.'
Strengthening his control over the Federation was secondary. The main problem was that there simply weren't enough capable people. Many of those supposedly considered "talent" didn't meet his standards at all.
Besides, he had no choice but to send some of them elsewhere. There were simply too many people here.
Sakkors had taken advantage of the Black Tower's ability to regrow itself to add another floor, but even that wasn't enough for the more than two hundred people currently there to live normally.
They were still people. They needed to eat, and they had emotional and social needs of their own. It would be best for them to return to ordinary society.
"Sakkors, send out a group of people under the title of assistants. Twenty each to the Holrewen central government, Durlag, White Stone Island, Twin City, and the Federal Commercial Alliance. Also draw up a list of positions they're suited for and have the people in charge assign them appropriately..."
"I'll arrange it immediately." Sakkors had no objections.
All he needed to do was select the right people, use their Spirit Net Marks as coordinates, and teleport them to their destinations.
There was no need for him to appear personally. Everything could be arranged through the Spirit Net work groups.
On the surface, these people would be Federation officials, but in reality, they would remain Spirit Net maintainers. The mental effort required for their everyday duties would hardly be much of a burden to them.
Anser felt like he had worried himself sick over the Federation. Fortunately, the Federation's banner had given him status and prestige, as well as powerful subordinates like Delira and her sister.
The Federal Commercial Alliance had also begun making money, the councilors were diligent enough, and tax revenue was steadily rising.
Overall, the returns were gradually beginning to outweigh the costs.
"What is Bane's Chosen doing?" Anser abruptly changed the subject.
"He's heading northwest with his own troops, along with more than ten thousand dragonborn and kobolds. Apparently, he intends to conquer the Moonshae Isles," Sakkors replied.
Anser was a little surprised. Instead of properly helping the Green Dragon Queen establish her draconic tyranny, what was Emmanuel doing running off to the Sea of Moonshae?
The Moonshae Isles were a jumble of competing powers, crawling with pirates, and the land wasn't particularly fertile. They weren't worth launching a major campaign over at all.
Besides, the Emerald Kingdom already had vast stretches of sparsely populated territory. It wasn't as though they needed more land.
"Perhaps his progress in the Emerald Kingdom hasn't been going smoothly, forcing him to strengthen centralized rule through war and impose tyranny through conquest," Sakkors speculated.
Anser rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Strife, hatred, tyranny, and fear were all part of Bane's divine portfolio. Once war broke out, there was no way he could come out of it empty-handed.
'Instead of expanding eastward, he deliberately went after the Moonshae Isles. Has he backed down?'
After thinking it over, Anser decided to leave him alone for the time being.
He was already openly opposed to three powerful Chaotic Evil deities—Lolth, Talos, and Gruumsh. He had enough pressure on him as it was.
If Bane valued Emmanuel as much as Selûne valued Evan, and a fight immediately prompted a divine descent, that would be quite troublesome.
The Chosen of Lolth, Talos, and Gruumsh were stronger, but the Chosen of Eilistraee and the Seldarine were all Anser's staunch allies.
Divine descent against divine descent. Who was afraid of whom?
Right now, Baldur's Gate and Suzail in Cormyr were both his leveling grounds. Whenever he went to either place, there were gains to be had.
'Compared to those Chosen, killing orcs and drow is obviously a lot easier.'
'What am I going to do about my Wish?'
Developing Wish was his highest priority, but every time he cast it, he had to rest for several days, cutting into the time he could spend farming experience.
A thought suddenly struck him, and two figures both familiar and unfamiliar surfaced in his mind.
The original Anser's parents!
'I should resurrect them. Better than letting Lolth screw me over with this someday.'
Having made up his mind, Anser nevertheless found himself inexplicably conflicted, his emotions tangled beyond description.
He even felt a little apprehensive, unsure how he was supposed to face them.
The original Anser's lingering memories, like a series of projected slides, were influencing him as well. At the very least, he couldn't bring himself to regard the two elderly people as strangers.
'Sigh—'
He took a single step and vanished, reappearing the next instant at the cemetery on the island.
The cemetery had been expanded. Its grass and vegetation were neatly trimmed, and it was surrounded by a man-high wooden fence. A signboard hung by the gate, with the gravedigger's two-story wooden cottage standing beside it.
There was only one solitary grave in the cemetery, containing the remains of the original Anser's parents.
Anser cast Mold Earth. The soil churned and shifted, revealing a simple coffin.
He opened the coffin and let out a quiet sigh. Then he took out the Arcanefire Longbow, focused his mind, and cast Wish.
Simulate the 7th-level spell Resurrection!
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