The Shadow Thief had already been completely petrified, and even the equipment and clothes on his body were no exception, all showing clear dusty-gray stone textures.
This was only temporary. After 24 hours, the petrification effect would disappear, and both the Shadow Thief and his equipment would return to normal, but his severed arm definitely could not be reattached.
The petrification effect of Euryale's Aegis was stronger than that of an ordinary 6th-level Flesh to Stone. Flesh to Stone required failing the saving throw four times in total before one fell into a petrified state, whereas the petrification magic on the shield only required two times.
However, after being petrified by Flesh to Stone, if no one used a spell such as Greater Restoration to save them, they would remain petrified forever.
This is really easy. Anser touched Medusa's cheek, his eyes carrying a smile.
Petrification magic might not be very effective against Fighters or Barbarians, but when used against Rogues, whose Constitution was average and who relied on dodging, it was simply a godly technique.
If he had not had Euryale's Aegis, even if he could still have kept the Shadow Thief Master here, he definitely would have had to fight a hard battle.
He focused and observed the Shadow Thief. After the dice spun for a moment, the target's information popped out:
[Petrified Shadow Thief Master, human, Level 14 Rogue (Soulknife)]
As expected, a Soulknife. He sighed inwardly.
That invisibility ability was probably the famous Psychic Veil, which could weave a layer of psychic veil to conceal one's figure for an hour; as long as he did not attack an enemy, he would not reveal himself.
'I wonder whether he was the assassin who ambushed Iris that day.'
He had almost succeeded. Even now, Anser still felt some lingering fear.
It was the first time someone had gotten close to him in his sleep. Although he had not been injured, thinking back on it still felt rather terrifying.
That was also why, from the very beginning, he had been unwilling to indulge his own desires. Even the destination of love could be a suitcase, let alone a woman he had only met a few times.
'I had heard that the Shadow Thieves also had female assassins, extremely skilled in their trade; across the continent of Faerûn, countless fools had died in their beds because of them.'
The wind howled. Iris returned, wrapped in a purple cloak, her face bare of makeup, long hair flying.
When she saw the miserable state of the Shadow Thief, her expression looked much better, and she said softly, "A Shadow Thief?"
"Yes, a high-level Soulknife." Anser tilted his head and looked at her. After the passion had passed, the feeling of looking at her again was no longer the same.
Iris remained calm and composed, letting him look at her openly and without restraint, yet her gaze never met his. "He seems to be the assassin who ambushed us that day."
"This time he came for me." Anser recalled the scene from earlier; the other party's target had been very clear—him.
Iris glanced at him and said nothing. When she had opened her eyes, she had clearly seen the Shadow Thief attacking her, only for Anser to block it.
The sharp blade had scraped across dragon scales, even throwing sparks. Very hard.
"Why not kill him?"
"Can we pry open his mouth?" Anser wanted to know the secrets and plans of the Shadow Thieves' guild.
"Impossible." Iris shook her head slightly. "Powerful Shadow Thieves all carry secret curses on their bodies; they cannot be forced to confess, and even if they die, nothing can be extracted. Besides, the Shadow Thieves' guild is tightly organized. Each Shadow Thief who carries out a mission knows only very limited information."
"So the higher-ups of the Shadow Thieves basically won't take action personally."
"Probably."
"Then keeping him alive is useless."
Anser walked up to the Shadow Thief and swung his longsword with force. A streak of platinum light cut through the air, and with a clang the blade struck the Shadow Thief's neck.
The blade bounced up, stone fragments scattering, leaving only a sword mark two or three centimeters deep.
"So hard."
With a soft snort, Iris pressed her lips together and smiled. "The posture was impressive. Wouldn't it work better if you used a blunt weapon? Why not let them slowly hammer it apart?"
The knights around them tightened their grip on their weapons, eager to try.
"No need." Anser quickly waved his hand and said with a serious expression, "Ending every enemy with my own hands is my respect for them."
As he spoke, he swung the Dragon Gold Slashing Swords, and with two clangs of steel he cut off the Shadow Thief's head.
Divine Smite was not particularly suited for chopping inanimate objects, but it was not so weak that it could do nothing against a piece of stone.
However, the experience notification did not sound for a long time.
Anser checked the battle log. The Shadow Thief had indeed been beheaded, but because he was in a petrified state, he had already lost his vital signs long ago. The "death" state would only be triggered once the petrification effect ended.
If, before that happened, someone reattached the Shadow Thief's head and restored him with a spell such as Restoration, he could still survive.
"Not completely dead yet." He frowned slightly.
"Restoration?" Iris suddenly understood. She had learned about petrification magic before.
Anser took out the Rod of Security and teleported the Shadow Thief's corpse to the Black Tower prison, locking the head and the body separately.
"Just in case," he explained.
"Mm." Iris yawned. In truth, when the Shadow Thief had appeared, they had only just gone to sleep. After tossing about for half the night, the two of them were somewhat tired.
"Everyone, go back." She dismissed the knights and guards, then went to greet her grandmother, who had been awakened, softly comforting her.
She did not blame anyone, because no matter how vigilant the guards were, they could not possibly have detected a Shadow Thief. This was a gap in strength that could not be made up.
Anser was only wearing a cloak, which was somewhat improper, so after nodding in acknowledgment, he flew back to his room.
When he returned to the bedroom, he caught sight of the mess all over the floor and could not help recalling the warm, tender taste of the previous night.
He casually pulled over the bedsheet that had been thrown into a corner. The bloodstains on it were clearly visible.
That night really was just an illusion. For a time, he had thought it was real, because the feeling that night had been very similar to last night's.
After lying back on the bed, he waited for a long time but did not see Iris return. It seemed she had gone back to her own room.
Heh…
He simply hugged the shield and went to sleep. There were only two hours left until dawn, and there was still an important meeting today.
...
Knock, knock, knock…
The knocking on the door was steady and unhurried; just from the sound, one could sense the patience of the person knocking.
Anser opened his eyes and turned his head to look out the window. The sky was already bright, the sunlight warm and gentle.
As August approached, the weather no longer seemed quite as hot.
He got up from the bed, draped a cloak over his shoulders, and opened the door.
The butler stood outside, dressed in a neat formal suit, holding a set of clothes in both hands. He bowed slightly toward him.
"Mr. Holrewen, this is the outfit the young lady asked me to prepare for you. It's seven o'clock. Change into it and come downstairs for breakfast."
"Ah, alright." Anser took the clothes. They felt heavy in his hands, with a noticeable weight.
The butler smiled pleasantly, closed the door for him, and his footsteps gradually faded away.
Anser tossed the clothes onto the bed. It was a complete formal outfit—shirt, vest, trousers, belt, leather boots, and coat—everything included. The base color was white, decorated with simple black-and-gold patterns.
He picked up the coat. A faint fluctuation of magic emanated from it. It was clearly a magical item.
Its design was also quite unique. At first glance it looked like an unconventional tailcoat, almost like a trench coat, yet two black-and-gold pauldrons were embedded at the shoulders. The appearance was quite cool, clearly taking combat needs into consideration.
The dice spun slightly, quickly detecting the outfit's information:
[Magic Item: +2 Battle Attire]
Category: Armor
Rarity: Rare
A noble formal outfit densely woven from a certain type of spider silk. Its protective effect is equivalent to cloth armor.
While wearing this armor, your Armor Class increases by +2.
Self-Repair: The living spider silk grants this equipment the ability to repair itself. When the damage is below 20%, the battle attire can slowly restore itself.
Not bad at all.
The properties of this battle attire were simple yet practical. Cloth armor itself provided 1 point of armor, so altogether it amounted to +3 Armor Class.
However, it would not stack with Anser's own Armor Class, since the dragon scales were beneath the armor.
Still, as long as he wore it, it was useful. Any external attack would first have to break through the battle attire before it could strike his dragon scales—essentially adding another layer of defense.
'If you had something this good, why didn't you give it to me earlier?'
Anser grumbled to himself. As he shook open the attire, he discovered the purple flower crest of Fort Jacqueline embroidered on the chest and cuffs.
'This… should I wear it or not?'
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