Chapter 400

Anser hadn't expected the whole thing to have started with a rumor.

Ever since the Rock of Bral joined the Federation, rumors about him and Crown Princess Veronica had spread further and further, to the point where no one could tell truth from fiction anymore.

No one cared about serious news, but gossip seemed to grow wings and fly everywhere.

The strangest part was that almost no one thought he was scheming to take over the Rock of Bral. Instead, everyone seemed convinced that Veronica had used her beauty to grab onto a lifeline and secure a powerful backer for the royal family.

Otherwise, how could they explain Anser gathering a whole group of Chosen to wipe out the Mind Flayers right after the Rock of Bral joined?

And how could they explain the Rock of Bral actually being granted complete autonomy?

Anser opened his mouth, but in the end, said nothing.

Stereotypes really could be the death of you. He was thoroughly fed up with it, but there was nothing he could do.

Still, while the Obarskyr royal family had a lot of members, the overall atmosphere among them was actually quite good.

Erastul, despite being an aging crown prince, didn't look bitter or resentful in the slightest. He carried himself every bit like the head of a large family, and on the surface, his younger siblings and the younger generations all treated him with great respect.

"The orc threat is imminent. What does Cormyr plan to do?" Anser asked bluntly, skipping over the previous topic.

Erastul's expression gradually turned serious. "I've already sent people to Silverymoon to request aid. The High Lady has promised to support us. They may take action within the next couple of days."

He made no attempt to hide the royal family's caution or their awkward position. They would rather lose face than leave room for an accident.

"You people are... very cautious." Anser nodded.

Compared to Bral's royal family, Cormyr was steady as an old hound. Perhaps that was because they had suffered a devastating loss in the past and had nearly seen their kingdom destroyed.

They could certainly win if the entire kingdom committed to a head-on fight, but the casualties probably wouldn't be pretty.

"Have you considered the possibility that Silverymoon might not be able to support you?" he asked thoughtfully.

"How could that be possible?" Maddox dismissed the idea.

Erastul's face darkened, but he said nothing.

Anser wasn't being alarmist. Orcs everywhere were showing signs of unusual activity. The news simply hadn't reached them yet due to delays, not because nothing was happening.

If war broke out on a large scale, the "Luruar Federation of Silverymoon" would undoubtedly consider the bigger picture and prioritize containing the orcs of the Spine of the World.

The orc coalition in the Storm Horns was merely a minor nuisance by comparison, hardly an emergency. Cormyr was capable of handling it on its own.

"How strong are the legends in the orc coalition? Can't our people keep them in check?" Anser asked, looking at Erastul.

"That legendary gnoll isn't much of a concern, but the half-orc Chosen is extremely powerful. He follows the Path of the Zealot. Our people can't withstand his charges," Maddox answered.

He had participated in the fighting himself, so he understood the situation better.

"I have two ideas." For the sake of experience points, Anser had no choice but to step beyond his role. "First, gather the elite aerial combatants. Have some of them tie down the enemy Chosen while the rest wipe out the main enemy force..."

"Wait." Maddox interrupted him, looking suspicious. "I understand tying him down. The half-orc can't fly very fast. But how are a hundred or so people supposed to wipe out an orc coalition numbering over ten thousand?"

"We don't need to finish them all off in a single wave. As long as we control the skies, we'll have complete control over the pace of the battle." As he spoke, Anser pointed at himself. "I'll be participating too."

He didn't like boasting, but if someone kept the enemy Chosen occupied, Anser alone could break an army of over ten thousand orcs.

Against a veteran legend, he couldn't guarantee victory. But when it came to crushing weaker opponents, that was practically his specialty.

Erastul and Maddox exchanged a glance, then both turned their eyes to Anser.

"Why would you take such a big risk?" Erastul asked, puzzled.

"Because orcs must die!" Anser couldn't be bothered to come up with an excuse.

Erastul froze for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "That really is worth the risk."

For some inexplicable reason, there was something compelling about that argument. You couldn't help but find it convincing.

In a sense, who needed a reason to kill orcs? Every adventurer born in Cormyr had that obsession ingrained in them.

"What's the second method?" Maddox straightened in his seat, anticipation in his eyes.

"Mobilize the entire army and fight a decisive battle on the ground!" Anser chuckled, proposing a rather clumsy solution.

He considered himself an honest, straightforward man. He didn't understand all those ingenious schemes and stratagems, nor was there any need for them. The more sophisticated the tactic, the less useful it was against orcs.

"War comes down to raw strength. One powerful individual isn't enough. We just need to smash the orc coalition in one blow. Once we do that, their Chosen won't be able to do anything except run."

Legendary Professionals might dare charge thousands of ordinary soldiers alone, but very few would dare charge a professional army with legends of its own.

Even someone as powerful as Anser could only throw out a little over twenty 8th- and 9th-level spells. Killing two thousand people would already be about his limit.

As for legends who couldn't teleport and weren't fast enough in the air, how could they possibly dare go all out without holding anything back? Who didn't value their own life?

"A head-on fight... the casualties would be too high." The moment Erastul finished speaking, however, he felt that something about that wasn't right.

Anser was an outsider and wasn't afraid, yet here he was, the crown prince of an entire kingdom, hesitating over every consideration.

Anser had already gotten some sense of the man, so he understood.

An aging crown prince might appear to hold power, but in reality, he was little more than the royal family's chief steward. He could only earn a certain degree of recognition through diligence and impartiality.

The ministers, the army, and the treasury weren't truly his, after all. He lacked both the authority and the resolve to make such a major decision.

That was why Cormyr had seemed so overly cautious all these years, and why it hadn't fought this war decisively enough.

"Discuss it among yourselves some more." Anser stood up, intending to give them time to think it through properly.

"Don't leave yet. We've prepared a banquet," Erastul hurriedly said, rising to persuade him to stay.

This man was anything but simple. Legends, Chosen, and numerous professionals standing at the very pinnacle of humanity had appeared during the Mind Flayer extermination campaign. They couldn't just let him slip away.

"There's no need for such extravagance during wartime. I also have something to do tonight. His Highness Maddox can contact me." Anser immediately headed for the door, his steps resolute.

If he dared stay the night, several princesses would probably crawl into his bed before morning.

Seeing this, Erastul couldn't very well keep insisting, so he personally escorted Anser to the moat.

Only after watching Anser cast Teleport and disappear did the smile on Erastul's face gradually fade. His expression turned grave.

"He's a Spirit Net member too?"

"Yes. I met him through Shamar, but I don't know exactly what their relationship is," Maddox said with a frown.

"That man is a mystery in his own right, and he knows more powerful people than anyone can count. We can't afford to offend him. Make sure you maintain a good relationship with him."

"I understand."

"Do you think... he might be a Chosen?" Erastul leaned on his cane and lowered his gaze to the fish swimming in the river.

"Heh. Do you even need to ask?"

Maddox kicked a pebble, sending it skipping dozens of times across the water before it shot diagonally across the moat and struck the opposite bank.

"That would explain it. Judging by the people he associates with, there's no direct conflict between us."

Erastul pondered for a long moment. "If even one of you had half his talent—no, a quarter of it—we wouldn't have needed to have so many children."

Maddox looked embarrassed. He was already one of the most outstanding descendants of the royal family. On the surface, he seemed quite talented, but compared to someone like Anser, the gap was enormous.

"He has draconic blood, so he has an affinity with House Obarskyr. With so many princesses in the royal family, there has to be one he likes. I'll leave this to you. Remember to prepare a generous dowry."

"Uh... I'll make the arrangements right away." Maddox grimaced.

In truth, Cormyr was one of the oldest and most stable human kingdoms in Faerûn, and it had nothing to do with dragons.

Before Cormyr was founded, the region had once been the domain of an ancient dragon. Its ruler was a dragon named Thauglorimorgorus, whose scales turned purple as he aged, earning him the name "Purple Dragon."

Later, the Purple Dragon was defeated, and humans became the masters of the Cormyr region.

The "Purple Dragon" was merely a symbol. It had no direct connection to true dragons.

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