Chess Mage of Faerûn

Good heavens! Zhang Yuan exclaimed.

You've even come up with a drawer teleportation portal, and you still say you're not a wish-granting machine?
Even the turtles in the Merit Pool will worship you!

"If the worst happens, your soul essence, along with your dead body, if you still have a corpse, will be transported to the City of Sigil."

"It shouldn't be too difficult for you to survive there for three days as a dead person. After that, you will be pulled back to the prime plane and work for me to pay off all the costs of teleportation and resurrection during that time."

“That’s not a price to be paid, kid,”

Tyrandeur's voice sounded unusually weary, but only for a moment, before falling silent again.

"understood."

Zhang Yuan, who had wanted to say boldly, "That day will never come," swallowed back the words that were on the tip of his tongue and nodded to accept his teacher's kindness.

They arrived in silence at the meditation room not far from the dark chamber. The archmage gently pushed his disciple through the door, his gaze complex as he looked at his apprentice who was meeting his eyes. Before the secret spell closed, he uttered the following words:

"Without wisdom, life and strength are but a shadow of death; guard your heart."

Before Zhang Yuan could reply, the secret door closed, and everything returned to calm.

In the tranquility where he could hear his own heartbeat and vaguely perceive the flow of blood throughout his body, he strolled forward and sat down cross-legged.

The divine light shines in the void; in stillness, wisdom arises.

His thoughts seemed to be stretched into extremely fine and long threads, thus reaching the infinite distance.

Crossing the barrier called reality, the spiritual travels on the etheric winds, chasing and flowing into the spirit world.

Perhaps it was a fleeting moment, or perhaps several days had passed, but that wisp of inspiration, moving at an indistinct pace and without regard to direction, swept across the seemingly boundless sea of ​​ether and reached another shore.

Beyond the realm of matter and form, at the other end of endless mysteries and the convergence of energy, the mage, determined to delve into the inner ring of the magic network, once again received a call from that ethereal realm, seemingly coming from the infinite distance yet also seemingly emanating from his ear, like a migratory bird returning home.

Invisible to the eye, inaudible to the ear and nose, only thought endures. On the final mountain, stripped of almost all physical laws, the essence of the world is revealed to visitors with an unprecedentedly intuitive and intimate approach.

Of course, ordinary people are unlikely to enter this place. Even if they do, it will probably be just a fleeting dream, leaving no trace after they pass by.

Just like Zhang Yuan back then, the only gains from his divine journey were a few low-level spells. It wasn't exactly a complete loss, but it was better than nothing.

Things are different now. His vision and knowledge are vastly different from those of the past as he is about to enter the advanced spellcasting sequence. Although he is still far from being able to fathom its deepest mysteries, he has been able to see a glimpse of its mysterious essence.

The rosy glow and the mist intertwine, creating a dazzling array of colors and shapes. Through the vibrant surface, one can sense the surging waves that are a hundred times more powerful and vast than the currents of the deep ocean.

Immeasurable knowledge and magic converge and flow here, forming the essence of the core of the magic network.

Information and energy, the fundamental elements that make up a world, also exist in the world of Toril, but they take on a different hue and outline a different picture.

Arcane magic does not exist out of thin air, nor can it be used arbitrarily. Anyone with a little research on this knows that the process of casting a spell is essentially an exchange.

Spellcasters weave spell models with their own energy to trade with the magic network in exchange for the energy to cast corresponding spells. Whether it is the spell slots commonly used today or the Arcane Strings (ARC) of arcane mages, they are essentially the same.

As for the fundamental principle behind this exchange, it is a question that is far too profound for even a high-level mage. However, if we were to make a bold guess, he does have one.

Everything has an end, and even a great and miraculous creation like the Magic Network cannot be said to exist forever.

The magic network organizes and connects the diffuse energy distributed throughout the multiverse, yet even such a vast and magnificent force cannot reverse entropy. Energy that is constantly flowing and dissipating will inevitably return to chaos if left unchecked.

In fact, the existence of the Dead Magic Zone and the Wild Magic Zone already proves the imperfection of the Magic Network itself, and once this creation of miracles loses its master or its overseer...

Every catastrophe and upheaval in Faerûn begins with some kind of sacrifice to the heavens.

The arcane calamities that have occurred in the past and will inevitably occur again in the future clearly reveal the ending of the story, while the efforts of the Lady of the Magic Net and the spellcasters are to prevent and delay the arrival of the finality.

The former doesn't discuss her, but the process of the spellcaster exchanging with the magic network actually meets the needs of both parties.

Spell slots, or the essence of spells, are to drive energy to operate according to certain laws. Wizards study and analyze the magic network, understand the structure of spell models, outline and inscribe them with their own spirit, and use them to exchange with the magic network for the right to use the corresponding spells.

For the Magic Network, the exchange of arcane energy brings about the harmonization and reorganization of the chaotic and dissipating energy flow within its own network.

While a single spellcaster may be as insignificant as a drop in the ocean, as the saying goes, many grains of sand make a tower. The magic network that spreads and connects the multiverse has many users, and as long as they follow the rules of spellcasting, they are her spontaneous maintainers.

Zhang Yuan's extraordinary intelligence of up to 20 points granted him sufficient magical network perception and affinity, thus revealing a small part of the true nature of the final place.

Energy flows converge and intertwine within the core of the network, ceaselessly surging into the core singularity, completing circulation and exchange according to certain rules.

The surging, vast, and almost immeasurable energy merges into a single point and then surges forth again.

The rapidly circulating energy flow forms a huge bulge around the core, resembling a ring-shaped mountain range.

The mountain that was recorded in secret stories and sung in poems, which Zhang Yuan himself once thought was the final mountain, turned out to be like this.

He stood at the edge of the circulation, right at the foot of this final mountain.

Having lost its physical form, it naturally has no form of movement. Its mind rises and falls with the flow of energy, as if it has transformed into ether and travels through this world.

As we journey upstream, swimming in an endless sea of ​​information and energy, we feel a mix of joy and loss.

This is because of the vast ocean of wisdom, one can only drink a single sip.

All the profound mysteries are like sand slipping through your fingers; no matter how hard you try to scoop them up, you can never hold onto them all.

But that's enough.

In this primordial land, the seventh ring of the magic network generously opened its arms and embraced him, just like a boy clutching a love letter wanting to confess being pulled home by the other person and taken straight to home base, incredibly smoothly.

After a brief exchange and integration, the mage who gained a deeper understanding of the other party won the key, and from then on no longer had to linger outside the door, only able to peek at bits and pieces through the window.

After entering the inner sanctum, looking back, he was already a high-level spellcaster.

Unsatisfied, Zhang Yuan greedily absorbed the rice, but the feeling of expansion emanating from his mind kept reminding the giant rat that it was time to crawl out of the rice bin.

Reluctant to break free from the entanglement with the magic net, he soared above the circumference, overlooking the surging ocean. The excessive knowledge he absorbed even made his spirituality slightly unstable.

He looked out, but the summit of the mountain and the core of the confluence of the streams were still far away. Following the fleeting glimpses of the scenery, it seemed that he had only shortened the distance by a negligible amount.

However, there was no time left. Before his thoughts returned to his body, there was one last thing he had to do.

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