Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 555 Prophecy
The drow's already considerable magic resistance reduced the damage from Flame Purification by three points, and the slight burn had already been healed by subsequent medical treatment.

The awe-inspiring azure flames transformed into fireflies and gradually dissipated. The female warrior, who had not experienced the terrifying ending she had imagined, was still in shock, staring blankly at the figure in front of her that had some of the characteristics of a celestial being.

"The manager called me here to eliminate the problem, not the problem itself; at least the situation isn't that bad yet."

The oracle's words seemed comforting yet tinged with indifference, but Zhuo Er was not fooled by them. His fearful expression finally subsided, and he quickly forced a somewhat ingratiating smile at the other party.

“Mighty Abil, the reward you will gain from tolerating my transgressions will surely outweigh the loss of me, and I will prove it.”

"We've wasted enough time on your stupidity, get out of here!"

Amidst Viconia's reprimands, the female warrior reluctantly retreated behind her. Within the Word Bearers, a strict hierarchy stood like a fortress, with those in lower ranks only able to obey and follow orders.

Aejonis, the female warrior of the Aberre family, lowered her face in apparent awe as she concealed herself behind the other's figure, the eerie light in her eyes hidden by her lowered eyelids, unknown to others.

With this matter settled, the Auerbach, which had been drifting slowly to facilitate teleportation and positioning, billowed its sails, stirred its oars, and sailed at full speed toward the high cliff!

The ironclad warships cleaved through the waves, their reinforced vessels unshaken by the storm. However, the drow, born from the depths, still looked grim, their dark skin revealing a hint of malnutrition.

Neliv, however, remained calm. How could the oracle who had once single-handedly traveled to the sunken city in the vast ocean, initiated the resistance against the Lord of the Shattered Rivers, and issued the decree of conscription care about such a minor disturbance?

On the return journey, the atmosphere on the ship was eerily calm, with the most lively person being Nerif, who seemed aloof.

“Mr. Lars, please extend your hand.”

"Oh no, I don't mean you have to raise your hands, I just want to look at your palm lines."

"Hmm, thank you for your cooperation. Oh, with your knowledge and experience as a captain, you must be quite knowledgeable about astrology and calendar systems, right?"

"If it's convenient, could you tell me about your life experiences? In return, I can help you uncover a corner of the map of your future destiny."

Faced with the oracle's relentless, almost census-like questioning, Lars went from initial surprise and slight fear to gradually becoming numb and mechanically responding, and finally, upon hearing the other party's promises, he cooperated with the same eagerness as a simpleton clinging to a small advertisement on a telephone pole, relieved that his unspeakable secret was finally being saved.

The old captain had a wealth of life experience, but the favor of a distinguished prophet and astrologer was still something he dared not hope for.

Lars didn't believe that prying into fate was something those so-called fortune tellers or witches in circus tents could do.

The lesson learned from repeatedly being taken advantage of and getting nothing in return for a few vague platitudes is profound.

"Master, look at this,"

The captain, who had almost recounted his childhood experiences of bedwetting, looked at the other person with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

"Please be patient, my sir,"

Nerif put his index finger to his lips, making a shushing gesture:
"Dust still lingers on the traces of the past, so why rush to know the future?"

Astronomy, calendars, celestial phenomena, epic narratives set against the grand backdrop of the Faerûn Chronicles, or the ups and downs of an individual's life, all are subject to the scrutiny of oracles who descend to new planes through the bodies of chess pieces.

Although the fate of the world of Toril is as intricate and countless as the currents in the deep sea, since the arcane school of prophecy exists on its own soil, there is no reason why Nereif cannot apply his knowledge to other areas and resume his old profession in Faerûn.

Before his arrival, he had obtained considerable theoretical information about divination arcane arts from Zhang Yuan, and now it was time to verify it.

This person's fate may seem insignificant compared to the course of history, but it offers a glimpse into the changes of time and provides a valuable perspective on one's own learning, which is quite exciting.

"Well, thank you for your cooperation. After I finish my analysis, I will definitely tell you what you want to know." The oracle bid farewell and left amidst Lars's reluctant parting gaze, leaving behind a verbal promise.

'If you're still by my side when I descend again next time~'

This was a thought Nerife internally added, but there was no need to inform the other party about such trivial matters.

"It can be considered as exchanging blows with the Luskan guy from afar. What are your thoughts on divination in the arcane system? Are there any commonalities between the two?"

Upon hearing that the diviner had returned with his mission, Zhang Yuan did not inquire about the success or failure, but simply smiled and talked to him about matters of magic.

"It's not that simple."

Nerif nodded slightly, his words humble yet brimming with confidence:
"It's called a countermeasure, but it's really just violent dismantling, and it's not a skill worth mentioning. However, it gave me some surprises in other aspects."

"Oh, tell me, what is a surprise?"

“In our world, in Simri, astrology was once a very important school of prophecy. In fact, the decline of those fortune tellers and astrologers was because of me.”

Nerif's expression was somewhat wistful and sentimental, then turned somewhat strange:
"After I had completely won that battle of destiny, and reality, the past, and the future began to crumble, they brought their era to a violent close. But who would have thought, who would have thought…"

The oracle shook his head repeatedly, his laughter tinged with self-mockery:

"In this new world, these old tricks actually have some similarities and can be put to use."

"Haha, what difference does it make whether a method is new or old? As long as it works, that's the bottom line."

The monk disagreed, but was actually quite looking forward to it.

If spellcasting, evocation, and transmutation are his original skills, and he has made considerable progress in necromancy recently, there are a few other schools of thought that he has only learned the basics of, to the point where he can barely use them and can't really do anything special.

The problem of prophetic magic is precisely this long-standing difficulty.

Zhang Yuan was well aware that the value of this school of thought far exceeded the tricks in the game that were useless except for anti-stealth, but after all, everyone has their own expertise, and he was really powerless to do so, having almost included half of the Arcane Magic school in his own research scope.

No matter how gifted you are, you still have to abide by the basic principles, right?

Cheating won't solve the problem anymore.

My XX emulator is warning you, kid!

When we can't solve a problem, we can also choose to raise an issue...

No, I mean choosing people who are capable of solving problems.

Oracles who focus on prophecy are clearly one of the best candidates.

On the contrary, the Prophet of Nature and the Prophet of Death, despite their titles, are actually engaged in violent attacks and base raids, which is a case of false advertising.

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(End of this chapter)