Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 406 The Exiles

Zhang Yuan gave Kaigen an approving look; the saying "better safe than sorry" was no joke.

The old clockwork guarded the entrance, while two dwarven shield bearers, after being blessed with light, scouted ahead. The mage drew his longsword with one hand and ran his finger along the spine of the blade, causing Akalena to flash with white light. The mage, holding the sword, entered the cellar surrounded by the dwarves.

At this moment, Master Zhang couldn't help but recall the scene of Gandalf leading his team deep into the Moria mines, and the magnificent background music of Lord of the Rings faintly echoed in his ears.

But in no time, this epic sense of ritual was shattered.

After all, no legendary team would embark on a legendary journey that would be remembered for generations in a cellar filled with broken pickle jars, cracked barrels of liquor, and sacks of grain, reeking of mold, pickles, and cheap liquor.

The spilled jars and pots, soup and water, made it almost impossible to step on them. Old Master Zhang frowned as he looked at his boots, which were originally grayish-white but were now stained a yellowish-brown.

This is terrible.

Illuminated by the magical light, the group quickly searched the not-so-large cellar. Amidst the mess, several corpses lay scattered about, their narrow, deep wounds clearly indicating their causes of death.

The situation is obvious; hoping to escape the slaughter of those underground demons by fleeing to the cellar is wishful thinking.

After rummaging through some grains that were still in relatively good condition, the group left the cellar with an indescribable smell. After catching their breath, they arrived at the location of another hidden door.

Following the same method, they wound up the door and Zhang Laoye led the seven dwarfs down to scout ahead.

"This is too cramped. Why don't we send a few of our brothers out?"

Kagan muttered to himself as he vigorously wiggled his large buttocks, his barrel-like body pushing aside the other fat barrels around him to earn himself some comfortable space.

This action led to a series of chain reactions, with a group of tin cans crammed together and colliding with each other, creating an agricultural heavy metal melody that echoed in the cramped basement.

It's true that it's cramped; this basement is much smaller than the previous cellar. But thankfully, it's quite tidy. Apart from some burlap sacks and boxes neatly arranged on a few shelves, there are no other miscellaneous items.

"Damn Rosamon with the big butt, can't you move to the side a little? I'm being squeezed into a pie."

"Shut up, I've never seen a pie with so much meat filling. Let's all have some space if you suck out that fat belly of yours."

"Stop fucking pushing me! There's a shelf right behind me. If you knock it over and smash your pig head, don't blame me."

The already small space was crammed with a group of short-legged tigers, and they also had to make room for the mage and Kagan in the middle. For a while, they started pushing and shoving, making a mess of things.

A dwarf, squeezed to the edge of the shelf, desperately pushed his muscular body backward, his large buttocks, protected by his skirt armor, rubbing violently against the bottom of the shelf.

In the end, it was just a wooden frame, how could it withstand the onslaught of such a heavy metal tank? After uttering a few futile creaks of being unable to bear the weight, it collapsed as if relieved of a great burden.

White dust swirled down, and two burlap sacks on the shelf slid off as the wooden planks tilted, threatening to hit the dwarf on the head.

Unfortunately, this righteous revenge failed due to the intervention of an invisible hand. The two righteous men were brought to a stop in mid-air and then entered the mage's storage bag.

Phew~that was close.

Zhang Yuan, who had just collected the sack into his bag with the skill of a mage, breathed a sigh of relief, his heart nearly skipping a beat. "Thank you, Lord, but I'm wearing a helmet, so even if the flour and grain fall on me, they won't hurt me."

The short man who had crushed the shelf pulled off the tattered wooden frame covering him, adjusted his helmet, and grinned sheepishly.

I'm not worried about you, you big dummy! I'm worried about the flour and dust, you know what I mean!

The mage's face twitched, and he forced a smile, but in his heart he cursed the idiot in front of him. If he hadn't reacted quickly, and the flour sack had broken and the idiot had thrown it around, everyone would have been in trouble.

Flour, torches, a cramped basement…

He wouldn't be afraid of a sudden burst of flames, but the dwarfs would probably be badly injured.

"Stop all the torches and keep them in reserve."

The mage, now calm, surveyed the basement again. The once relatively clean place was now a mess of floating dust particles and wood chips. The dwarves, however, didn't seem to care. They casually brushed the dust and debris off their armor and continued to play their role as elite guards, chests puffed out and bellies protruding.

Hmm? The mage, whose gaze swept around the circle and returned to the starting point, felt that something was amiss.

It's a shadow.

When the shelves were still there, the two shelves placed at right angles against the wall cast a large shadow in the corner, which was normal.

But now one of the shelves has collapsed, and the white light is shining out without any obstruction, while the dark shadow is not diminished at all!
Is this self-deception or are they just trying to fool us like idiots and blind people?
"alert!"

After giving the command, a beam of light emanated from the mage's hand, shining directly into the shadow, condensing into a line without spreading out.

The tricks themselves are not particularly dangerous, but their effectiveness depends on the user's skill. A qualified spellcaster will not be limited by a rigid, formulaic approach.

Like a beam of light shining on a shadow, but failing to illuminate even an inch of darkness.

Even the thick-skinned dwarves realized something was wrong. Kegan, the first to react, raised his shield to block the mage and ordered everyone to face the shadows and form a defensive formation, as if facing a formidable enemy.

The monk, however, did not seem nervous or uneasy; instead, he spoke calmly and deliberately.
"The Drow's hunting party has been wiped out. As for us, that depends on your attitude."

"Friend or foe."

“abban xor thalack.” (Dark Elf language)
Under the wide-eyed gaze of several dwarves, the previously lingering shadow began to ripple and surge like water. The formless and intangible shadow was suddenly lifted like a black curtain by a slender hand, and the being that had been hidden under everyone's noses finally surfaced.

“I have no ill intentions toward this powerful being. I was forced to hide to protect myself because of the pursuit of my evil kin.”

The petite figure touched her chest in salute before straightening up. Her face remained obscured by her hood, with only a few strands of silver-white hair visible as they fell over her shoulders. Her figure, clad in a black robe, displayed a domineering silhouette that seemed completely disproportionate to her height.

A small portion of a delicate yet not sharp chin was visible beneath the hood, its skin color matching that of the hands. Unlike the obsidian-like, almost invisible black of the previous drow, this one was a unique gray.

Another dark elf.

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(End of this chapter)