Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 349 A Mess

Upon arriving at the trial, they were struck dumb by this unexpected revelation. The group stood frozen in place, their eyes blankly scanning the others around them. Apart from the lower-ranking ordinary guards, neither Nashel nor the Nine Guards, nor the higher-ups in the academy and temple, showed any surprise, appearing completely unfazed.

It turns out that the clown is actually me?
These upper-class people, who usually consider themselves rulers and masters of the city, and who have fiefdoms in places like High Cliff and Leicester Harbor, and their own manor houses in the Black Lake District, are now experiencing firsthand what it means to be a background character.

Not only was there no flattery or fawning as before, but there was also no unpleasant hostility or wariness; they simply ignored it.

They ignored it like they would a cat or dog seen on the street.

Although they were discussing the fate and end of two noble families, it was as if it had nothing to do with them. Apart from the meaningful glances cast by Nash, the clergy were busy praying and listening to the admonitions, the Nine Guards stood solemnly and silently, their eyes fixed straight ahead, and the mages were calm and composed, as if they had come to watch a grand opera, rather than the human tragedy of two long-standing noble families about to be wiped off Neverwinter.

They naturally don't understand that when people casually kick a small animal, they don't care what the other cats and dogs on the street think.

The brilliance in the jeweled eyes of the Tyr statue has faded, replaced by a much softer and more vivid facial structure, even giving the impression of coming to life.

The statue remained standing on the altar, motionless, yet an indescribable aura of majesty and solemnity emanated from it, spreading and sublimating irresistibly, impacting the hearts of everyone present.

This is not the kind of effect that evokes fear or the ferocity of dragons. It doesn't grip people's hearts like a claw emerging from the shadows. Instead, it's like a towering mountain cliff that simply stands before you, inspiring awe and reverence.

Unlike the increasingly fervent and sincere praise and worship of the Tyr followers, the spellcasters' expressions became unusually solemn. Even Baras, who had been somewhat absent-minded, sat up straight and silently observed the situation before him, seemingly lost in thought.

If bystanders only felt the aura that was not directed at or focused on them, then the suspects and accomplices who were being directly faced and focused on by this descending will truly experienced what it meant to have divine power as vast as the sea and as imprisonable as a prison.

There was no struggle, no luck, and no farce as before. The solemn light of the Lunia Court from Paradise Mountain shone here. The rules and order that formed the foundation of the Kingdom of Justice spread down with the arrival of the Lord of the Kingdom, giving rise to a temporary sanctuary of justice.

In this context, all lies, deception, false accusations, and sophistry become impossible; their very existence is suppressed and even erased. Truth and justice become theorems, the only things they can discuss.

This was truly an eye-opener. Facing the two families under judgment in the divine realm, they answered every question without reservation. They were completely open and honest, and in their tearful repentance, they spilled all the crimes they had committed.

This caused quite a stir. The Deszel and Manuel families, two long-established families, had been entrenched in Neverwinter for many years. Their intricate relationships and connections had formed a web of intrigue in the shadows, preying on countless rival forces and unsuspecting, unlucky individuals who had stumbled upon them.

What lies hidden beneath the glamorous facade of the nobility is something everyone tacitly agrees on. In order to maintain order, even justice has to make certain compromises.

But one day, when these filthy things from the gutter are pulled out and laid out in public, the stench of decay hits you, making you want to vomit.

The paladins of the temple initially scrutinized the suspects with a critical eye, but as one scandal after another was revealed, their expressions became increasingly sharp.

That is the sharpness of an eagle swooping down to hunt its prey, and the ruthlessness of a judge sentencing someone to death.

Some of the more impulsive young paladins even turned their gaze to the representatives of other families in the side stands.

Is this some kind of suicide attempt?

The poop doesn't smell bad when you pick it up!
If the two families' confession of their crimes of colluding with cults and Luscans only shocked and unsettled them, the subsequent revelation of these misdeeds was like throwing them onto a red-hot iron plate.

The gentlemen and ladies who had initially maintained a facade of shock, even forcing themselves to put on an incredulous and heartbroken expression, could no longer keep up their act.

While serving evil gods and betraying the enemy are certainly shocking, since the other party was blinded by greed and committed such an unforgivable crime, they can only kick them while they're down to show their own righteousness and breathe a sigh of relief.

After all, they hadn't done anything stupid that violated the rules, and they figured they wouldn't get burned.

Who would have thought…

The words uttered from the mouths of those idiots from the Deszel and Manuel families at this moment were not repentance, but rather slaps to their faces and spitting dog shit.

Bribery, threats, hiring thugs, framing...

Can these things that happen behind closed doors be brought into the open?

His expression shifted from feigned rage to genuine shame and annoyance, followed by an overwhelming look of shock and fury.

This dramatic performance couldn't be kept to oneself; Nash and the mages nearby witnessed it all clearly.

Having served as a lord for many years, even though he still retained some of his former temperament, he also possessed sufficient composure and shrewdness.

Suppressing their anger and holding back their attacks. The mages, on the other hand, observed coldly. As spellcasters, they were not completely detached from secular society, but their status was, after all, transcendent. Unless they insisted on plunging headlong into this quagmire, protecting themselves was never a problem.

Zhang Yuan glanced around. This time, everyone who came was a seasoned veteran of the academy. Although their faces weren't exactly calm, they weren't as resentful as the paladins.

The diverse group of people present, each with their own unique expression, resembled a chaotic and absurd human stage play.

Wow, what a show.

Just as Zhang Yuan was squinting, seemingly deep in thought, a voice rang out from within his mind—it was a message from Balas.

"What? What are your thoughts on these things? Whether you accept it or not, there are always dark corners behind the glamorous facade of so-called high-ranking figures."

"If I'm not mistaken, you'll likely have to join the game in the future, and that's how most players play."

The other party's words were half teasing and half probing, but Zhang Yuan was not swayed much after hearing them.

From the moment he first arrived in Neverwinter and met the old dean, he knew exactly what he wanted. And after experiencing all that had happened, he understood even more clearly what he relied on.

"I want to play chess; I'll play it the way I want."

"Tsk, you trying to flip the table, kid?"

Barras found it somewhat amusing; it seemed this junior apprentice had quite a temper, always ready to overturn the chessboard.
"Otherwise, since this class and its unspoken rules can exist in Neverwinter, or even in most city-states, it can only mean that it has its own reasons and basis for existence."

“I have no intention of forcibly changing the underlying nature of all this, nor can I do so, but I choose not to enter the game, to pack up my pieces and play my own game.”

Zhang Yuan remained calm, but his proposed idea piqued Balas's interest.

Of course, it's not that this idea is particularly ingenious or unique; in fact, this kind of scheme has been around for a long time, and many mage lords have come up with this kind of idea.

I don't care about your aristocratic ways. I'll just close the door and entertain myself, managing my little plot of land as I please.

Generally, unless the mage's style is as domineering as that of the red-robed men of Sion, or if he has an old grudge against a certain family or power, the nobles are not really willing to deal with such an outcast who has infiltrated in sheep's clothing.

Of course, this doesn't apply when there are conflicts of interest; even the most fearsome mage lords are not immune to being provoked.

In reality, the title of a sorcerer alone cannot control a small area, much less ensure that the good neighbors around him remain friendly and kind, and fully respect his neutral stance.

To seize power and establish a firm foundation, all that is needed is nothing more than two words: influence and strength.

Needless to say, the power that a spellcaster possesses and controls is their greatest source of confidence and reliance; without it, everything else is just empty talk.

The situation is easy to understand. Governing a territory is not something one person can do alone, nor can it be done solely through violence. As the saying goes, "a hero needs three helpers."

What Barras was curious about was how this kid would manage and rule his future territory.

He was aware of this younger man's remarkable feat of stirring up a storm in the gang world of Luskan, but being a lord and being involved in a gang were two completely different concepts.

The latter relies on its own strength, plus a bit of scheming and skill. At worst, it can be a big troublemaker. The good deeds that Canaan did in Luskan under the alias Shining Gold Coin have completely broken the balance of power among the five major gangs. The already fragile peace is now gone.

In that surprise attack, which Luskans called the Meteor Disaster, the Bloodsail Gang, which was originally one of the top five gangs, suffered a huge loss. Its headquarters was destroyed, its private guard was severely damaged, and its mage advisor was captured. It can be said that it was severely weakened and suffered heavy losses.

But its essence remains.

Captain Kurzer was unharmed, and Captain Roland was also largely unscathed. Apart from the unfortunate Burke being captured alive, there was also Brasca, their former backer, to provide assistance.

However, it remains to be seen what Blaska himself thinks about going from a dignified mage tower master to a gang advisor, transforming from a backstage figure to a front-line figure.

Thank you to Hornsby, Brilliant Cherry Blossom Era, All Streams from One Source, and Swimming Black Cat for your monthly ticket support!

Also, as a new volume begins, I'm trying my best to develop the plot for the next volume. However, there will be many transitional scenes, which may be a bit long-winded and tedious. Please forgive me!

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(End of this chapter)