Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 9 The Spellcasting Barbarian
The brief chant of “Manus, Potentis, Paro” ended with the final note.

A beam of sky-blue light shot out from his hands, enveloping Zhang Yuan's entire body, before vanishing like a mirage. Only the dim glow emanating from the caster's clothes and body proved that a successful protective spell had been summoned from the magic net.

After finishing the spell, Zhang Yuan couldn't wait to pinch his cheeks and arms, only to find that the texture was completely different from usual, as if there was a thick layer of skin or rubber between them.

What are we waiting for? Zhang Yuan quickly took out his phone and, no longer caring about the battery, took a selfie.

Hmph, it would be interesting if I could still connect to the internet right now. I could cast spells and stream live at the same time, and the popularity would definitely explode. I'd even have Fathead Fish read "My Position" to me personally!
With all sorts of wild ideas running through his mind, Zhang Yuan turned off his phone, then pulled out his Swiss Army knife and stabbed the hem of his coat twice.

The experimental results were satisfactory. Although the surrounding force field shield could not completely block the dagger's cutting and piercing, it did create significant resistance and deflection.

In actual combat, while longswords and other cold weapons are certainly superior to a small dagger, this level of obstruction and deflection should also play a significant role in situations involving constant changes in position and angle.

Having just experienced his first magic, Zhang was quite satisfied. After all, for a barbarian from a mysterious and isolated world, what could be more satisfying than casting spells himself?
Zhang Yuan, after regaining his senses, couldn't help but feel a little regretful. Although he had become a mage, the entire process relied on the system's instinctive spellcasting actions.

To be precise, we know what it is but not why it is; it can be used but not understood!

It's like a savage who finds a gun; he can fire bullets, but he has no concept or understanding of the gun itself.

However, here, the barbarian named Zhang Yuan is not wielding a gun, but rather arcane magic.

"Never mind~" Zhang Yuan sighed and didn't pursue the matter any further.

Having just arrived in this place, it's already a blessing to have any magic at all; what more could you ask for?
Although I know what it is but not why it is, I move forward in confusion.

Those sorcerers who rely on their looks also make a living by casting spells instinctively, right? I can catch up on that later when I have the chance. The most important thing right now is to find a place to stay in this city, and then survive, and survive well.

My heart was filled with rage, and I bumped into a door frame while walking.

Zhang Yuan, clutching his head, straightened his clothes and walked out of the tavern.

With nothing else to do, I found a seat in the tavern, ordered the cheapest Shadow Beer, and sipped it slowly while listening to the various guys around me brag.

Not far away, several middle-aged men dressed like ordinary citizens were visibly quite drunk, swaying their heads and barely able to hold their glasses.

One of the guys with the Mediterranean-style haircut couldn't even grab the wine glass in front of him.

"Hey, don't dodge! Don't dodge! I'll just have one sip, just one sip!" After several attempts to reach for the glass but only managing to grab air beside it, he simply stretched out both arms, cupped the glass with both hands, and gulped it down. *Burp!* With a loud burp, the Mediterranean guy promptly slumped onto the table, unconscious. His companions didn't seem to mind, presumably used to it, and continued chatting and bragging.

Another middle-aged man with his hair tied up, sitting opposite, shook his head and said, "He always brags and acts tough, and in the end, we have to take him home."

His companion smiled and said, "We're in a good mood today, so a couple more drinks won't hurt. Thanks to the Iron Throne, those of us who trade in ores and blacksmiths have gained a lot more influence in the Merchant Guild."

The middle-aged man was not very interested, and his voice was somewhat somber: "There is no such thing as a free lunch. The Iron Throne is spending so much to win over and organize the entire industrial chain of iron products and weapons manufacturing and trade. There must be a special purpose behind it."

His companion shrugged: "So what? Who doesn't have their own motives when they do something? We have more gold coins in our pockets, that's enough. Why think so much?"

The man with his hair tied up, however, showed no improvement in mood. Instead, he stared at his companion and said, "How long has the turbulent year been over? The schemes of ambitious men have never ceased. The Iron Throne can control the entire iron mine and arms industry today, so guess what he plans to do tomorrow?"

Seeing his companion remain silent, he sighed, "Maz, I advise you to avoid dealing with those people from the Iron Throne. I also don't plan to stay at Baldur's Gate any longer. In two months, I'll move out with my blacksmith shop."

"What! You're moving? Why?" His companion exclaimed, jumping to his feet, sweat dripping from his flushed, chubby face. "Don't joke around, my good Tyrone. If you move away from Baldur's Gate, is there a better business environment in the entire Sword Coast?"

"Who do you intend to sell your ironware to? To those bookworms in Candlekeep? Or to those farmers in Scythia? You can't possibly go all the way to Amn, can you?" Maz pleaded with his companion, partly because he was reluctant to see his friend leave so suddenly, and partly because it was a matter of his own self-interest.

His weapon shop thrived thanks to the reliable and consistent supply of high-quality weapons from Tyrone. Without this source, his weapon shop would likely have been reduced to that of any other general store.

Talon glared at Maz, knowing his companion's concerns, and said, "Don't worry, I don't plan to go that far. I'm staying in Belgostre town; I'm planning to move my blacksmith shop there. If you continue to buy from me, it'll just be a little more shipping cost."

Having his concerns exposed, Maz chuckled awkwardly, slowly sat back down, and continued drinking and chatting without mentioning it again.

Zhang Yuan, who witnessed this scene, couldn't help but ponder. He never expected that Tyrion, the blacksmith from Belgost, would be at Baldur's Gate, and even sitting in the same tavern as him.

Talon is no ordinary blacksmith. To say he's the strongest blacksmith in Faerûn would be an exaggeration, but in Baldur's Gate and even the Sword Coast region, Talon is undoubtedly among the top blacksmiths.

If the data in the game is also real and credible in this world, then Zhang Yuan, who originally had several high-quality enchanted weapons and armor on his character, all purchased from Talon, must look at this muscular middle-aged man with a ponytail in a different light. Putting aside everything else, he is the only one who can process the shell of a burrowing worm into lightweight and tough magical armor.

However, what pleased Zhang Yuan the most was not the chance encounter with the blacksmith, but another piece of information revealed in their conversation.

I'm actually a little dragon! RUA, YYFSSMDDX


(End of this chapter)