Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 176 Unexpected Events Abound; Life is Unpredictable Since Ancient Times; A Divine Interpretation Offers Guidance; Better Late Than Never.

Marduk Blair was in a terrible mood. His usually calm mind was being constantly assaulted by an uncontrollable surge of mania, and he didn't know when it would erupt.

As the Lord's shepherd, he had hoped to do this job well, so that he, with his mediocre talent, could stand out among the many clergy who served him, and thus take a further step forward.

In the end, they stumbled at the last minute, and these brainless green-skinned idiots messed everything up.

Marduk, who was in charge of planning and arranging the attack two days earlier, should have been present to ensure the plan went smoothly. However, he was overconfident and the target discovered something at the last minute.

In haste, they had no choice but to split into two groups: the group of foolish trolls would go to intercept the convoy, while they themselves would go to capture the escaped guy.

Thanks to the Lord of the Tomb, both plans went very smoothly. Although the bastard who dared to run away committed suicide, which made Marduk, who wanted to vent his anger, very unhappy, the other party was dead, an unexpected factor was eliminated, which was exactly the ending he had hoped for.

After one accidental elimination, another occurred. When cleaning up the body, it was discovered that the other party had played a huge joke on him: the document that should have been kept closely guarded had vanished.

Marduk, his forehead beaded with cold sweat, dared not linger for a moment. He rushed to the troll tribe and began interrogating the prisoners who had been kept as livestock and grain reserves. But no matter how he pressured or tortured them, they knew nothing.

The guy using the alias Carrick, although also a member of the caravan, had found an excuse to leave the group during the journey, and they knew nothing about any documents or secret letters.

Marduk, having used lie detectors to confirm that the other party was not lying, was helpless and now had no choice but to rummage through the other party's goods and luggage himself in order to find that damned document.

But just as he rolled up his sleeves to turn the place upside down, he discovered that the containers that the trolls had looted were not filled with any goods or luggage, but with dry rations.

Marduk was now too exhausted to even be angry. He turned his head blankly to look at Zuljin's beady, innocent eyes, unable to utter a single curse word.

Criticizing the idiotic actions of a group of mentally challenged people only makes you look like a mentally challenged person yourself. What does that prove?
Marduk, who returned to the ambush site with a group of trolls, felt his heart sink the moment he saw the crime scene.

What met my eyes was not the expected scene of corpses and remains scattered everywhere, overturned carriages, or messy and broken supplies, but rather a rather "tidy" scene.

The carriage was lifted up, the remains disappeared without a trace, and various wooden barrels and boxes loaded with goods were neatly stacked in several rows.

It's so clean! Marduk suddenly realized that someone had cleaned the floor, which was quite nice. At least it made checking things much easier!
Shouldn't we thank those well-meaning people who tried to defend us?

What a fart!
Nearly a quarter of the boxes were empty, and several crates were only half-filled, clearly telling Marduk that these whitewashers were not cheap.

While cursing the free moving company with vicious curses that would make the drow of the Underdark prick up their ears and take notes, he prayed for divine protection, hoping that the document he was looking for wouldn't be taken away by them.

The result was naturally disappointment, disappointment after disappointment, with nothing gained except making a mess of the scene.

This is quite understandable. Marduk, who is neither a priest favored by God nor capable of using the power of wish-granting magic, was naturally disappointed. After all, the god he serves has countless schemes and plots every day, and he reviews his vengeful little black book every day. The faint prayers of a believer simply cannot attract His attention.

Perhaps it was the many setbacks that honed his resilience that made him so strong. Marduk didn't waste too much time complaining. After a brief period of depression, he rallied and added those who dared to reach for his food to his kill list.

As the saying goes, a person's favor reflects their master's character; a deity who holds grudges is unlikely to have any generous underlings.

Marduk, who wasn't originally a knight-errant, was naturally incapable of tracking down enemies, but that didn't matter, as his simple-minded, muscle-bound allies could finally come in handy.

Marduk turned to look at Zul'jin, the troll leader, while Zul'jin turned to look at an old, withered figure surrounded by other trolls behind him.

A normal troll, although it looks as thin as a bamboo pole, doesn't have skin and flesh as loose and flabby as this one, which looks like a toad that has lost weight.

Despite their unassuming appearance, the trolls surrounding them were completely unlike their usual tyranny and irritability. Instead, they resembled a flock of chicks following a mother hen, and even Zul'jin, the chieftain, had to bow down in respect to them.

Although trolls can never straighten their kidneys...

Even Marduk, who usually looked down on these slovenly allies, showed them courtesy and equality as fellow clergymen.

Yes, this old troll, shorter and more hunched than the other trolls under the weight of time, is Mara's priest, and also in charge of the sacrificial and religious affairs of the entire troll tribe.

The priests of Mara, who served in the field of hunting, were not lacking in tracking and location methods. Although the Canaan team had tried to confuse their movements, how could they hide from the divine magic of the specialized field?

He pulled out a packet of powder from who-knows-where, then took out several dried lizards and dried organs from some unknown animal. After chanting incantations for a while, the old troll finally succeeded in performing this divine ritual.

As the powder drifted into the air and sparked, in Zul'jin and Marduk's eyes, a faint, flickering fluorescent path stretched from their feet toward the northeast, toward the direction of the Troll Claw.

These pale golden fluorescent lights floated and coalesced like dust, gradually revealing and making clear the traces that had been intentionally or unintentionally destroyed and buried.

Marduk looked at the footprints and tracks that were shimmering with a hazy golden light and quickly estimated that the other party was just a small caravan. However, just to be on the safe side, he still ordered all the trolls accompanying him to follow, so as to ensure that they could capture the other party without any mistakes.

But looking at the old troll again, he was being supported by several other trolls after the ceremony. He was coughing and panting heavily, making one worry that he might not be able to catch his breath and would end up reporting to the Grey Wasteland of the God of Hunting.

This doesn't look like a troll with extraordinary physical strength at all; it's more like a terminally ill tuberculosis patient.

(End of this chapter)