Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 600 The Last Night in Candlecastle
Zhang Yuan, who was already back in his bedroom, couldn't hear these conversations. He could guess a thing or two from Ge Lian's vaguely wary attitude, but it didn't matter to him anymore.

So what if the other party is on guard?

It's all just a casual move. As long as you don't get carried away and get too involved, you can win big or lose everything.

Ultimately, with his deep-rooted business acumen, Mr. Zhang is no longer afraid of any self-proclaimed chess master from Ferenc coming to overturn his chessboard.

If one day a ruthless character like Shaflock were to confront me, and he came to the high cliffs to assassinate the king...

Hehe, it might be a bit much to do it yourself, but using someone else to do the dirty work is not difficult at all.

Blow out the light and go to bed.

On their last night in Candlecastle, the mage was fast asleep, while in another corner of the inn, in a small room, the red-haired girl lay curled up on the bed like a cat.

Her mind was filled with images of "Mr. Chanem" and the words of Grelian's description. She managed to connect them, and her thoughts immediately soared to the heavens, as if she wanted to ride the night wind to the legendary Northland to see what the lords' castles looked like.

Beyond the window lattice, moonlight bathed the tranquil garden of air.

Inside the courtyard, a tall tree with lush branches had a lone thief perched atop it. Though it looked imposing, its situation was rather precarious. It had gathered a large pile of branches, but its nest-building skills were rather clumsy, so it could only use its beak to try and pull a few leafy branches toward itself.

Once everything is done, the boss must keep his promise and build me a big house. Oh, and the mother bird can't be left out either.

With fantasies of a big house and flying around, the thief bird's head began to nod like it was pounding rice, and it was about to drift off to sleep.

Not far away, the main building of Candlecastle was much taller than the treetops. In a bedroom on the third floor, candlelight still flickered, casting dim and intermittent light, making Gelian's already complex expression even more unreadable.

A burly man lay on his back on the bed beside him, snoring so loudly that the candlelight flickered. It was none other than Aberdare.
With a barely perceptible sigh (at least imperceptible in the current noise), the old man gathered his thoughts, pulled out a small pouch from somewhere, untied it, and plucked out some powder, which scattered and shimmered with silver light.

After a few skillful maneuvers, the silver powder that had been used to draw and weave the array patterns vanished as if it had spontaneously combusted, drifting towards the sleeping young man like fireflies.

Ever since that person's bloodline power began to manifest and showed certain traits in his adopted son, he regularly cast this anti-prophecy spell on Aberdel.

Unfortunately, although this ritual spell is of low level, it is a specific spell co-created by Testoriel and himself, and cannot be revealed to outsiders.

Unfortunately, Aberdel's talent did not manifest in the path of arcane magic. Although Aimon has some talent, she has a very unconventional personality, and it is unknown whether she can settle down and study this path.

Gelian couldn't help but sigh again. Perhaps he really was getting old, unable to control his wandering thoughts. He hoped that his old bones could hold on until the children grew up.

As for what happens next?

His consciousness swam along with his past memories, flowing backward to the day many years ago when he and the harpists stormed the Temple of Baal to stop its dark rituals.

It was also the day he last met Ariana.

A midsummer night passed by like a dream.

The next morning, after quickly finishing breakfast and dealing with Aimon's disturbance, the monk headed straight for the library without looking back.

The expensive tickets are only valid for half a day, so we absolutely cannot waste them.

The ten days are almost up, and all the required knowledge and materials have been collected. What about the remaining time?

Arcane Knowledge

Experimental Records

Historical secrets

Geographical data, swordsmanship and martial arts

Monk training

So… Zhang Yuan, who had planned ahead, strolled into a library.

The Mad Creations of Lume

Hmm? The first book is about this big shot?
After a brief look, one can see that Lum truly deserves the titles of arcane madman and master of mechanics. His various strangely constructed, multifunctional, and even bizarre devices are not entirely magical creations, but rather a hybrid of steampunk and magic.

It's like a genius or a scientific madman has infiltrated the Wizarding World.

But the book's imaginative ideas really impressed Zhang Yuan.

Integrating the science and technology of his past life with the mysteries of this life, creating addition or even multiplication, has always been a part of his blueprint.

But how easy is it to do?

After all, I'm not a mechanical engineering major. Even if I have a great memory, I can't just make something up out of nothing, can I?
The imaginative ideas that emerge in the information explosion era still need to be fleshed out with the framework and substance forged by technology and craftsmanship.

Faerûn is not without technology. The Church of Gonde has always encouraged invention and innovation and put it into practice. There are also unconventional methods developed by the artisan guilds of various city-states.

However, the purity is really too low.

He had also studied the inventions of the believers in Gonde. In Mr. Zhang's opinion, these things were not entirely worthless, but they were basically inventions for the sake of invention.

Without a clear vision and plan, most of them are just showing off their skills, at best solving some specific problems, not to mention the handcrafted works of artisans.

Unless archaeological work is conducted on those two lost ancient arcane empires, there is no possibility of a technological leap.

However, the magic technology of the Keen race in the Dota world has many merits.

On the other hand, it's always good to have more skills; perhaps we can find some good stuff in the old papers of Zhubao.

The last half day passed by at a leisurely pace. After squeezing out the last inch of land, Mr. Zhang, upon receiving a renewal notice from a reader, vividly demonstrated his moved yet reluctant refusal, and leisurely chose to leave.

In a cheerful mood, he felt as if the library ceiling had inexplicably risen three feet higher.

After bidding farewell to Winthrop and Amon, the mage, accompanied by the Oathkeeper of Candlekeep, left and traveled lightly to Highhold.

"Don't rush back to your territory. Tell me about your trip to Candlecastle first."

The plan to rush back to Gaoya overnight was scrapped. Not wanting to offend his mentor, Zhang Yuan stayed behind and took charge of preparing a dinner party.

Since we're already here, and it's late at night right around dinner time, we can't just eat bread and chat aimlessly, can we?
So let's chat. The whole dinner was spent in Zhang Yuan's vivid narration and Tyrantil's occasional questions, a relaxed and ordinary dinner like a home-cooked meal.

"You're deliberately trying to get close to that girl,"

The high priest, who had been quietly enjoying his meal without saying much, suddenly spoke:
"Is it because of her relationship with Greg?"

"No, that wouldn't warrant such a large undertaking. Could it be..."

"No, that's not right either. You're a bit more level-headed than the Dawn Lord's followers."

Tyrandeur knew his apprentice's character quite well; he was truly driven by self-interest and valued his life above all else.
"Did you deliberately overlook something, hmm?"

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