Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 562 Naval Encounter

Choosing to deliberately bypass the slave ships docked at the port and stay far from the shore, and with the bloodthirsty eyes of the Sharkfishmen watching you with predatory intent, how many meters could you swim even if you had gills?

The only way to survive is to wipe out the invading murlocs as soon as possible, repair the ship, and make a quick getaway.

No, given the vengeful nature of these beasts, it's hard to say they're safe as long as they remain in this area.

"What exactly happened? Don't tell me some blind fool steered the boat onto the reef."

The old sailor, who had been swinging on the mooring ropes like a swing, was about to gather his men and head straight for the hold when the hatch opened. A gloomy man dressed as a sorcerer, whose face and voice were filled with impatience, came out and immediately began to question him.

"We encountered a ship-drilling attack by the Sharkfishmen and are about to deal with them."

He quickly explained that the old monk in front of him had a rather bad temper, but it was good to have someone to rely on in a crisis.

Damn shipping, damn escort missions, Argus, can't you just give me a few days of peace and quiet?
Omar's face darkened, and he was furious. He was already unwilling to take on this escort mission. No one would be happy to leave their comfortable home and drift at sea for a month or two.

Omar, who moved into the most spacious and comfortable room on the ship, became a hands-off manager from the moment he boarded, and apart from listening to the routine reports twice a day, he basically ignored everything else.

After all, his female apprentice's studies were too heavy, and she really needed his proper guidance.

As a result, while he was trying to correct the apprentice's posture, especially the correct posture on the instructor's lap, he suddenly fell down.

He himself stumbled, which was fine, but the young apprentice, lacking restraint, almost broke the pointer...

Omar, who was furious and looking for someone to settle scores, had a dark expression on his face. The fact that he didn't lose his temper on the spot was already a testament to the self-control and character of a spellcaster.

"Shark-man? Are you sure?"

Despite his anger, the monk, whose brain had been freed from cerebellar fatigue, still knew what was important and what was urgent.

"Among marine species, only they are accustomed to using the method of chiseling the bottom of ships."

Omar still had doubts about the sailor's words, but dealing with the invaders was the most urgent task at the moment.

"Breath of Frost"

"Elementary enchanted weapon".

Several beams of light flashed past Zhou Wen, and the curved swords and rapiers in the hands of the crew who had gathered to go down to the hold trembled. Pale white frost mist and magical radiance intertwined and swirled around the blades.

"Lightness Technique".

The mage then cast another spell, and shouted, "You've been enhanced! Attack!"

Why don't you say "Come with me"?
The sailors were full of complaints but dared not show them. They had to go through this ordeal anyway, and at least they had magical support. They could only blame their bad luck.

Omar snorted and turned to crawl back into the cabin.

Of course, I'm not going to lead the charge and pave the way with my face. If I, a mere mage, were to do the work of cannon fodder, then what would be the point of having these lackeys?
"I'll keep you company from behind, so you don't get scared by a few sea fish."

A moment later, the mage reappeared behind the sailors, surrounded by three fierce-looking guards with drawn weapons in their hands; none of them were to be trifled with.

These three were Omar's personal bodyguards, whom he had personally trained and promoted. Regardless of their bravery or loyalty, they were far more useful than lazy, cunning old hands.

With many people come courage, and with a large force comes a fierce aura.

With both groups converging, and at the command, even more gang members joined in, until the final group of over twenty headed towards the hold, which emboldened them considerably. The seasoned veteran, Calem, frowned, quietly retreating to the middle of the group, already hatching his own plans.

Although the shark head is troublesome, it probably won't fare well against so many people. However, these beasts' spears and halberds are extremely vicious, and someone might accidentally lose their life. I must be careful and not be a fool.

Kelham gripped the scimitar tightly in one hand, while unconsciously rubbing the scar on his right arm with the other—a gruesome mark bestowed upon him by these creatures.

Even though he had dodged the deadly thrust with his agility, the treacherous barbs on the spear still taught the murderer a profound lesson before his death.

The column moved rapidly downwards, and after passing through a certain cabin, the momentum of the leading squad suddenly came to a halt.

"What's going on? Report the situation."

The old sailor, his nerves on edge, quickly shook off the memory, stopped in his tracks, and questioned him warily.

"A golem? How could there be a golem here?"

"Monster, this is a monster from outside the lower level."

The old sailor's question broke the brief silence, and a disturbance, tinged with fear, spread.

"You ignorant idiots, what's wrong with you?!"

Before Callum could figure it out, the mage Omar's reprimand struck like thunder, and the sailors, amplified by the spell, experienced ringing in their ears.

The latter's expression was not good; the unknown chaos that would cause was more frightening than the anticipated murloc attack.

However, the mage dismissed the talk of golems and demons as ignorant nonsense.

The foul spiritual energy of the creatures outside is like a bucket overflowing with sachets of perfume; except for certain species that can conceal or disguise it, the nauseating smell is impossible to hide.

As for the golem?

How much water must be in their brain to send a golem to perform a boarding raid?
The worldly-wise Mr. Omar decided not to bother with the nonsense spouted by those Balkan sailors; after all, he couldn't lower himself to their level…

Ok?
Suddenly, the barbarians retreated and scattered to both sides, revealing the sorcerer and his guards like the tide parting to expose the bare bed.

Now Omar can finally stop worrying about these annoying fools and see the invading enemy with his own eyes.

There were four figures of varying heights; the two shorter ones were about the same height as an average person, while the other two looked like armored giants.

Omar understood the origin of the golems the sailors had mentioned the moment he saw them. The four steel lumps in front of him were completely covered in armor, showing no biological characteristics whatsoever, and even their eyes were made of scarlet crystals.

This is outrageous! Absolutely outrageous!

Even if they weren't golems, the price of just these few sets of enchanted heavy armor would be enough to buy the entire ship of "cargo" with some left over; if they were the former, it would be an enormous waste.

Besides, does expensive necessarily mean good?
Combat on a turbulent sea is the least ideal combat environment for heavy units. It seems I need to teach that ignorant spendthrift a lesson.

"Hey, good morning, you scum, you're surrounded!"

The uninvited guest greeted them in a friendly manner, but his mocking tone, while revealing his status as a living being, also infuriated the crew.

These mere four iron turtles, pretending to be gods and ghosts, dare to spout such arrogant words about being surrounded by more than twenty people just because they have thick skin.

(End of this chapter)