Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 396 Strategies and Counter-Strategies
Meanwhile, north of Baldur's Gate, in a farm on the east side of the Trade Route, Bard and Kegan's dwarven expedition team had settled down and were planning to spend the night before heading directly to Baldur's Gate to meet up with the mages.

However, the farm where caravans used to stop and stay overnight was no longer bustling and noisy. The flickering candlelight of the banquet was no longer bright and warm, and the drifting smoke was no longer fragrant. The thick smoke from the rising flames and the night made the entire camp indistinct.

The desperate screams of the dying, the weeping of the helpless, and the cold, serpentine arrows piercing the air like snakes, leaving behind barely audible whispers on the chaotic battlefield.

The moment the mage emerged from the spatial distortion and tremors caused by the teleportation spell, this was the scene before his eyes as he brought the two master craftsmen who had just finished their shifts.

Using the coordinates of the communication crystal, he was able to pinpoint his location and descend into the dwarves' defensive formation. After scanning the area, he saw that the outer dwarf warriors stood with shields, protecting the entire circular formation like an iron barrel. The dwarf artisans in the inner ring were by no means weaklings who did not work hard; they were also well-equipped and possessed abilities comparable to ordinary combat professionals.

The only downside is that the walls of this metal bucket are a bit short…

The mage, standing out among a group of short-legged tigers, was somewhat sensitive to his situation. The buffs from the Leaf of Beven combined with his own high perception, and before he could even fully assess his surroundings, he noticed many malevolent gazes falling upon him.

I looked back reflexively, and the flickering firelight illuminated the dark figures not far away, mingling with the shadows cast by the trees and houses, like ghosts.

In a sense, drow are not much different from ghosts.

Fortunately, they had just finished modifying the ship, and Old Wind-Up and the Tinker, those two tin cans, hadn't been sent back to their hometowns to serve their sentences yet. Seeing the sudden turn of events, they were overjoyed, behaving like the Fourth Calamity, who were happy to see war.

As long as the manager's fountain doesn't collapse, no matter how much they are destroyed, they'll only be temporarily offline for a while. After a few days, they'll synthesize new bodies and come out to roam again.

“uke l' faern!” (It is a monk)
"elgg colnbluth lil" (Kill that guy)
A sinister and urgent scream faintly drifted over. Zhang Yuan, who did not understand the language of the dark elves, had no need to guess their intentions. Seven or eight arrows, like the fangs of venomous snakes, pierced through the air. The shepherd, hidden behind layers of protection, summoned the power of the Spider Queen with a wicked incantation.

This is troublesome; a well-organized Drow raiding team is quite difficult to deal with.

The mage thought this to himself, and in a flash, he hid himself behind the old clockwork's tall, steel body.

Even with a bunch of protective spells on him, he was unwilling to gamble on whether his magical skills were superior to the drow's adamantite magic-piercing arrows.

A few soft clangs and sparks flew. Compared to Old Clockwork's full-body armor, most projectile weapons were like firecrackers lit by children during the New Year—just loud noise and that was it.

However, there are always exceptions.

With a sickening metallic scraping sound, several arrows tore through Retotrap's steel vanguard armor, and the ever-burning flames of the furnace atop Clockwork's head fell silent.

Sure enough, the mage was surprised, but his hands moved extremely fast. In an instant, he unfurled the scroll in his hand, and the incantations and lines engraved on the parchment lit up like fireflies. Under the guidance of his chanting of a few syllables and the manipulation of the incantation with one hand, it suddenly erupted.

Flashbang!
Legend has it that those with abundant hair are weak against fire, and those with dull skin are weak against light. They are taught how to be human by using various light-based spells to teach the drow, these earth-dwelling rats who never see the light of day, to be human. If they're lucky, they might even capture a corrupted version of a family heirloom to enrich their mansion. Similar scenarios have appeared frequently in legendary tales of past and present lives. How could a mage who knows what kind of enemy they're facing forget this spell?
However, while the script was excellent, the actor playing the role seemed to have no intention of cooperating.

Almost at the instant the flash exploded, a dense darkness, as if it were about to devour all the light from the outside world, rapidly spread out.

Those who are part of the family know their own situation, so how could the Zhuoers not know their own weaknesses?
Those who launched the surprise attack at nightfall realized, upon discovering the teleportation light, that the dim twilight was no longer a perfect cover.

Without the slightest hesitation, before any potential threat could be revealed, the priest leading the group, Eirima, directly used divine magic to create supernatural darkness, obscuring the circular area centered on herself.

A burst of white light briefly illuminated the dim battlefield, turning it into daylight, but it failed to pierce the night-like curtain. The faint murmurs and rustling sounds coming from the darkness gave the mage a bad feeling.

It really is an elite monster. The old trick has run into a new problem. It seems that these dark-skinned people have suffered quite a bit from flashbangs before.

Fortunately, it wasn't all for naught. Four or five dark elf vanguards followed the tauren slaves who were charging ahead and engaging the dwarven shield bearers in close combat, taking the opportunity to fight back. They were quite cunning, and the few dwarven corpses already lying in pools of blood were their spoils of war.

Heavy armor is not omnipotent, especially when facing the drow's black blades forged with adamantite. The shield-bearers, who are good at being steady but lack agility, are already doing their best to parry the tauren's savage charges and fierce slashes. It is inevitable that the drow warriors wandering on the front line will find opportunities.

Even dragon scales have weaknesses, let alone armor. If the dwarves hadn't had a numerical advantage in certain areas of the battlefield, allowing them to support and cover each other, their formation might have collapsed during the first charge.

However, as the saying goes, "He who walks on the shore will eventually get his shoes wet," and the unlucky pioneers finally managed to wriggle out a great shark from the muddy waters.

At the moment the flash erupted, these male drow not only did not enjoy the protection of the Spider Queen's divine magic, but those who were on the front line did not receive the order to retreat. Even when they realized that the enemy's reinforcements had arrived, they could not retreat for a while, and they became like black rats under the spotlight.

However, the consequences of that flash were far too severe…

"The esteemed mage is on his way to our aid. Hold firm, and there is hope."

Bard, who had just blocked the Tauren's battle axe with his shield and then parried the Drow's cold scimitar with his warhammer at the last second, shouted encouragement to his comrades to help defend and fight back against the enemy's third wave of attacks, but he felt no sense of pride.

If we can handle the enemy's probing attacks so easily, what will we do next?
The only saving grace was that they were not the primary target of this group of dark-skinned people. After rushing into the farm, they engaged in battles with the guards, travelers, and even the local residents they had encountered earlier, or rather, they were subjected to a one-sided massacre.

The bloody cries of battle and slaughter instantly tightened the nerves of the dwarven expedition, which had relaxed its guard slightly, while the somewhat unusual behavior of the drow gave them a chance to catch their breath.

(End of this chapter)