Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 106 Poverty Made Me Progress
When Zhang Yuan was dumbfounded, Tyrantir was also somewhat surprised. It wasn't that the stone golem in front of him was particularly powerful; he had seen more powerful and imposing archmages, and this one was just so-so.

Even if it was just average in his eyes, Tyrantir wouldn't be foolish enough to judge others by his own standards. Just looking at the size of this little stone golem and the special material that made up its body, it wasn't necessarily any worse than an ordinary stone golem, not to mention that it had a throwing skill, which was like having a built-in spell.

What exactly is a stone golem? These stone lumps are incredibly hard, impervious to magic and swords, and possess immense strength and tireless power. A typical stone golem requires at least a level 10 challenge.

What does a challenge level of 10 mean? It's not the same as the combat power of a level 10 professional. Instead, it requires a regular six-person team of professionals with an average level of at least 10 to defeat the opponent using appropriate tactics.

Then he asked Zhang Yuan why the small stone from before had turned into the stone giant it is today.

"Oh, when I learned to summon monsters at level three, I became connected with this piece. It evolved from a small level one piece." The person, having gained an advantage, still acted innocent: "Look, I've improved, so it's only natural that my summoned creature should level up along with me, isn't it?"

Good heavens, the archmage utters such a wonderful word right off the bat!

How could this guy even dare to say that a level 3 spell can summon such a monster? And you, a level 5 novice mage, can bring along such a bodyguard?
What do you think of other professionals who are twice your level and have to work hard to form a team to defeat such a stone golem?
"Your stone golem is a bit too..." After thinking for a while and still not being able to think of a suitable adjective, Tyrantir simply suggested, "Why don't we have it compete with my stone golem, and also test its performance and that throwing spell?"

"Well," Zhang Yuan was actually a little itchy to see the combat power of a mere two-star fighter, "Alright, but what if it gets damaged during the fight?"

The archmage gave his cheap disciple a disapproving look and waved his hand, saying, "All the losses are on me. You don't need to worry about the repairs."

"Then I don't want you to repair it for me. Can you just give me the money in gold coins instead?" Zhang Yuan, whose system had a built-in repair function, seized the opportunity.

Tyrantir was so angry he laughed, thinking that his new apprentice had become obsessed with money and needed to be taught a lesson.

The Grand Master didn't even chant a spell; he simply snapped his fingers at the person staring at him expectantly.

Suddenly, Zhang Yuan perked up, reached into his robes and rummaged around for a while, then pulled out a stack of things—gold foil issued by the Temple of Wojin, each sheet representing one hundred gold coins.

Zhang Yuan respectfully handed the five gold foils to Tyrantir, while constantly rummaging through his remaining gold coins until he took out the last one and placed it in Tyrantir's hand, at which point he seemed to snap out of his daze.

Yes, someone woke up, heartbroken, from a nightmare called financial fraud, only to be plunged into an even more terrifying nightmare called—poverty.

Zhang Yuan, who had not lost his previous memories, was well aware that he had fallen into Tyrantir's trap, but given the opponent's strength, he could not stop him from doing whatever he wanted.

"Teacher, what is this?" Zhang Yuan asked the grand mage in front of him cautiously, afraid that he would say something like, "The grand mage doesn't have any surplus food at home," or "I, the grand mage, give me money, and I'll repay you double later," or other such nonsense.

Tyrantir calmly opened a rift in the void, casually tossing in the "tribute" from his obedient disciples, before speaking to Zhang Yuan:

“A poor mage can not become a good mage. Mysterious knowledge is not a cheap commodity, and the burning of the fire of wisdom also requires a huge amount of money as fuel.”

Hearing this, Zhang Yuan nodded repeatedly and quickly agreed, "Then please return my fuel to me, teacher."

The archmage ignored him: "However, achievements on the path of arcane magic are ultimately not based on accumulating gold coins. Overvaluing wealth will only blind the eyes of the mind."

Someone already had a very bad premonition and tried to avert the impending tragedy: "Teacher, please rest assured, I will definitely make good use of this money as an aid to my progress on the path of a mage." "Oh, that's good, can you guarantee that?" Tyrantir seemed to nod approvingly.

"Yes, absolutely." The speed at which this person nodded was so fast that even a chicken pecking at rice wouldn't be enough to describe it; it should be described as a sewing machine coming to life.

"That's good~" the Grand Mage said slowly, but the meaning in his tone sent a chill down Zhang Yuan's spine.

“Since you’ve said so, then let’s just consider this money as your apprenticeship fee and tuition,” Tyrantir said with a mocking smile, looking at his cheap apprentice. “After all, what could be more beneficial to one’s progress on the path of arcane magic than having a great mage as one’s mentor?”

The argument was logical and irrefutable. Zhang Yuan, who had come up with a whole bunch of excuses, never expected the other party to say something like that. He stood there for a long time, unable to say a word, and felt like crying.

"What? You're not happy about becoming my disciple? If you feel wronged, I will never force you." Tyrantir looked at the person with apparent concern, then immediately put on a stern face.

"No, no, no, I'm happy, very happy. I'm honored to have you as my mentor, Master," Zhang Yuanqiang said with a smile, though the smile was more like a grimace.

"Then why are you sobbing?"

"I was happy, I was crying tears of joy."

"Well, that's good. Let's go. A thrilling golem battle awaits us." The archmage swaggered towards the training grounds upstairs, waving to someone to hurry up and follow.

I used to think Tyrande was just a loner, but I never imagined he had such a wicked side.
Feeling like he'd been tricked, Zhang Yuan could only shuffle forward with heavy steps, head down, like a defeated rooster.

Behind her followed Xiao Xiao, equally silent, taking even heavier steps as she trailed behind her defeated owner.

However, neither Tyrantir nor Zhang Yuan noticed the small pair of eyes, as they were both preoccupied with their own thoughts.

The eyes, which should have been dull, were now sparkling with liveliness and curiosity. They were not like a puppet at all, but rather like a child's, turning around and looking at their surroundings.

Even its head swayed slightly as its gaze moved, but since it was now too big, the slight head shaking looked like just a normal swaying motion as it walked.

The two arrived at the spell practice arena, where the open space was large enough for two three-meter-tall golems to cast spells to their heart's content. The specially reinforced and enchanted ground and other facilities could not be easily crushed even by these two rock behemoths.

"Get your stone golems ready, the match is about to begin." Tyrantir urged them on as he directed his stone golems to take up a corner of the arena.

"No problem, I'm all ready," Zhang Yuan replied, then said to his little one, "Give it a good beating!"

Seeing Xiaoxiao nod in acknowledgment after receiving the order, the person nodded in satisfaction.

Hmm... huh? ? ?
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(End of this chapter)