Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 401 Blingbloon, I'm a Robot

It's a shame these drow scouts are blind. When Master Zhang made his dazzling appearance, he landed right in the center of the dwarf expedition's formation. While he was showing off his skills and prowess, the scouts were still fishing on the outskirts of the farm.

Upon arriving after receiving orders, they only heard an enraged Eirima ordering the assassination of a human mage, without any further details…

Upon arriving at their destination, the only human-looking individuals were an old man in a long robe, riding a white horse, with a flowing white beard, and a middle-aged man dressed as an officer, wielding a long blade.

Since they're called mages, aren't their target characteristics obvious?
Almost simultaneously, several Drow scouts who suddenly emerged from the night shook off the cloaks covering them, and their daggers, like fangs, kissed the back of the Lightkeeper's head, neck, heart and other vital parts.

Asund and his companion, who had initiated the attack, used their staffs of disintegration, held in their secondary hands, to fire two ghastly green beams of light at close range, striking the old man directly.

Although I didn't sense any magical aura emanating from that old geezer, who could be sure that he didn't have any hidden tricks or trigger a shield?

Things went more smoothly than expected; four dark, sharp daggers coated with deadly poison precisely pierced the target's body.

There was no force field shield, no stone skin, and no anticipated trigger spell; the blade went straight in without any hindrance.

Is it because the staff is too effective?
Even the Disintegration Ray, which can dispel magic effects, is not a panacea; the chance of breaking it depends on the difference in spellcasting skill between the target and the creator.

Could it be that we actually got a bargain, and the staff we bought at a bargain price was actually made by a master?
In the blink of an eye, several thoughts raced through Assund's mind, but his hand did not hesitate, and he thrust the dagger in.

Ok?
The drow scout, sensing something amiss the moment he made a move, became suspicious. Accustomed to killing, Asond was truly a bloodthirsty individual. Even though he rarely had the opportunity to deal with humans, he would never believe that such tough flesh, like that of a dinosaur, and bones strong enough to hold his dagger in place, could be the configuration of a weak human.

Several pairs of eyes looked at each other, the Drow staring at the old man who appeared to be a human mage, whom they had already killed, somewhat at a loss.

The body that had fallen from its horse had several penetrating wounds, all in vital areas, and the victim, as expected, lay dead on the ground.

However, no blood flowed out.

Even without much knowledge, one can see that there is a huge problem here. An illusion? A puppet? A soul-bound corpse?
Various speculations flashed through their minds like images, but now was not the time to investigate in detail. If the assassin whose whereabouts were exposed in the center of the enemy lines did not retreat, his fate would likely be dire.

At that very moment, the old man's body and his horse vanished, disappearing right before their eyes as if erased by something.

Damn it, I fell into the trap!
This sudden scene sent a chill down the already tense nerves of the drow, who turned around, gathered their cloaks, and prepared to slip away.

Too late.

A brief hesitation was enough for Old Clockwork, who had been waiting for them, to arrive at the crime scene. The flames of the furnace above their heads cast a dark red glow on the dark skin of the Drow.

"Would any assassin be foolish enough to fight a lump of iron like you head-on?" Asonde secretly curled his lip and was about to disappear into the gloomy twilight.

As dusk settles, who can possibly spot themselves wearing a dark cloak?

Before the thought even finished, Assund felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder, as if he had been pierced by an arrow. What was worse was that the thing had a great deal of kinetic energy. Being hit by it made him lose his balance and he staggered to a stop.

Looking at his right shoulder, blood was flowing from the round wound, but there were no arrows or bows in sight. There was just a distinct feeling of something foreign coming from the wound.

Could it be a bullet? But where did such a terrifying, ghostly bullet come from?
Assund instinctively looked at the iron golem in front of him, and the scene that met his eyes made his scalp tingle.

The towering steel golem was covered with tiny arcs of electricity. In the dim light, Zhuoer, with his excellent eyesight, could clearly see several miniature cylinders protruding from its surface, with the arcs of electricity swirling and gathering in each of these nodes.

Pizz~
A flash of electricity appeared in one of the cylindrical holes, but even with his eyesight, he couldn't detect what kind of projectile was being ejected. He only saw his other companion groan, clutching his wound and trying to steady himself, just like he had just done.

This place is unbearable!
Assund was no longer willing to think about what was going on, nor did he care about the so-called assassination order. The word "run" occupied his limited thinking ability.

The ignorant underground folks naturally wouldn't understand the principles of electromagnetic cannons, and Mr. Zhang, who was watching the show from a distance with his invisibility ability, had no interest in giving them a popular science lecture.

On the contrary, he only intended to send these little mice, who had previously posed a threat to him and had now unfortunately stepped into his trap, to the abyss.

Hey, a slippery mouse seems to be about to escape. That's pretty lucky.

The culprit behind what just happened was none other than Old Clockwork's signature move—the barrage attack!
Only victims who have experienced this skill firsthand know how disgusting it is. Although limited by the length of the rail and the energy level of the charging time, the power and range of the barrage are far from comparable to a real electromagnetic cannon. However, the kinetic energy carried by the heavy projectiles launched by electromagnetic force and the destructive power caused by their rotation are comparable to machine gun bullets from the previous life at short distances.

If it hit an ordinary person, it would either result in amputation or death, but for a wanderer who doesn't rely on physical defense...

Look, this is the scene right now. Every shot leaves a bloody hole. But what's worse is that the impact of the massed bullets, combined with the electric current, causes a disruption to the target's movements, almost reducing the agile Drow scouts, who are as nimble as felines, to clumsy puppet shows.

The drow, having stepped into the trap, finally realized the enormity of their mistake. What would become of these wanderers, who had lost their agility—a fundamental survival skill—when faced with the steel golem so close at hand?
They didn't want to think about this problem, and fortunately, they didn't have the chance to. The old Samsung keystone no longer held ordinary tools like grappling hooks and hammers, but rather:

Crazy Hook!

The Mad Hook has transcended the craftsmen's concept of a machine, and is even more than just a weapon; to be precise, it is a murder weapon.

Its front end resembles the crocodile's large mouth covered with serrated fangs, and above the mouth is a goblin-like face with a pointed nose. This weapon was destined to be restless from the moment it was forged. Its steel jaws twitched wildly at all times, opening and closing as if it wanted to devour people.

Thank you to readers 20200611164109213, Bixi Gu, Beidi Dingxiang, and Wanliu Tongyuan for your monthly ticket support!
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(End of this chapter)