Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 340 Living in Evil
This odor was not simply a foul smell or the stench of dampness and mold; rather, it seemed to completely contradict the instincts of living beings. Just smelling or perceiving this odor evoked almost every negative emotion present, including nausea, vomiting, panic, and fear.

Of course, being well-trained and protected by a series of spells, the soldiers were only somewhat uneasy, but did not back down, let alone Faras and Neville.

As for the dog head?

Sensing the aura emanating from the enemy camp, the Mastiff-Headed Divine Envoy showed no fear whatsoever; instead, his face was filled with furious rage.

It wasn't just the atmosphere; the group that followed were stunned by the horrific scene before them the moment they entered the secret chamber.

All sorts of corpses and dismembered limbs were hung on racks or soaked in containers, resembling dissected dried meat or biological raw materials in a laboratory. However, the distinct humanoid biological features and the distorted faces frozen in the most painful moment before death revealed a horrifying reality that was all too clear.

This place is hell on earth.

The blasphemous rituals, the depraved sacrifices, the agony of flesh being torn apart, and the agonizing wails of the souls—all these combined to create a place in this underground chamber that resembled an evil abode.

It's no wonder the Mastiff-Headed Divine Messenger was furious. Putting aside the righteous indignation of the benevolent faction, this extremely evil and depraved place itself was a great constraint and malice on the creatures of the celestial realm.

"Oh, let me see, these are celestial bugs and tiny reptiles of the prime material. You've come here..."

A hoarse voice, sounding like a broken clay pot that had been used for half a century being scrubbed with iron sandpaper, rang out, giving everyone present goosebumps.

But before he could finish speaking, his hoarse voice was interrupted.

"Rotten dead thing, your pathetic existence will surely be eliminated; the distortion of error cannot stop the judgment of order."

The mastiff-headed divine messenger, sword and shield in hand, raised his head and let out a roar:
"Never die, or perish!"

A pure white light radiated out from the center of itself, like a radiant white river spreading and surging, instantly engulfing the surrounding filth and the owner of that voice.

Once the white light faded, the people with clear vision were able to see each other's true faces.

How twisted, how ugly.

The body was shriveled, like an old piece of cured meat that had been hanging from a roof beam for decades. It had almost no flesh or blood, and beneath the skin were twisted and disorganized bones.

The limbs no longer resembled human form; the range of their bending completely violated the structure of the joints, making them look like puppets that were manipulated at will.

Besides its emaciated head, a set of wildly growing fangs completely broke through the limitations of the lips, crisscrossing like daggers. Combined with the already deformed skull, it looked only three parts human and seven parts demon.

However, the old monster's condition was not good. Having just enjoyed a bath that dispelled positive energy, his whole body was covered with traces of erosion and burning. His grayish skin had been covered with many black spots, and this failed plastic surgery only made him uglier.

The other party clearly had no interest in his appearance. Enraged by the enemy, he opened his fanged mouth and roared silently. A beam of colorful light poured down in an instant, enveloping the old corpse's entire body, and then burst out in a ring, covering the entire group.

The Evil Light Strike, an ability often used by lower-dimensional beings, was surprisingly unleashed by an old mummy.

An extremely chaotic and evil power exploded in everyone's hearts, violently impacting their minds and will. Even with magical protection, half of the soldiers were still stunned or unconscious, while the rest were somewhat dazed and their fighting spirit vanished for a moment.

Fortunately, the Mastiff-headed Divine Messenger and the two leaders withstood the attack.

Neville gritted his teeth, sword and shield at the ready, while Faras stared at the old man with a puzzled expression, muttering something barely audible.

The dog sniffed, then bared its teeth:
"Not just a necromancer, but also rotten flesh from a lower plane, a filthy creation. Your existence is a desecration of order and life." With that, he raised his broadsword, and a white radiance descended, from which a pair of wings of light sprouted from the dog's head.

The lighting and special effects are top-notch, and there's even a faint background music playing.

Dog-headed Beast Evolution >>> Seraphim Dog-headed Beast!

Oops! We've switched channels.

"Divine power!"

The Mastiff-headed divine messenger roared and shouted for a fierce battle. At the same time, Faras completed the spellcasting after a brief incantation.

A beam of white light shot out, locking the spatial fluctuations like an anchor.

Dimensional Anchor.

Falas, facing an enemy that clearly appeared to be an undead creature, surprisingly chose this anti-teleportation spell.

Faced with the dog-headed ferocious attack, the old corpse twisted its mouth into a strange, sinister smile, but its turbid gaze bypassed the formidable enemy before it and turned to the fresh-faced creatures from the main plane behind it.

However, that strange expression immediately froze on his face. He was about to launch a teleportation attack on the rear, but no matter how much he activated his magic-like abilities, it was to no avail.

The space he used to move through with ease now felt like gel, trapping him in place.

"Damn Baloja."

The old mummy gritted its teeth inwardly, knowing full well that it was the sorcerer who had done it, but it hadn't expected that the other party would see through its secrets so quickly.

Before he could even get angry, the menacing dog head came crashing down with a sword.

Even the unarmed old mummy was not without a fighting chance in close combat. Its withered claws had unusually large bones and joints, and its long nails were black and sharp. Black light swirled around its palms, indicating that it was infused with negative energy.

This cannot be described simply as sharp claws.

However, as simple as it may be, it depends on who you compare it to!
Faced with the exquisitely crafted and highly enchanted celestial weaponry of the Mastiff-Headed Divine Envoy, the old mummy truly experienced the exhilarating feeling of a mantis trying to stop a chariot.

The moment those diametrically opposed and mutually restraining forces made contact, black smoke billowed from his palm. After a few more exchanges, good heavens, he almost chopped off his claws.

The old mummy, who was firmly in a disadvantageous position, felt that the opponent's attacks were getting fiercer and fiercer, and no matter how he tried to defend himself, he was powerless.

After all, the difference in weaponry was already so great, and the fact that his own withered body was incomparable to the dog's head that looked like a big guy was really a huge difference.

It was truly humiliating. If it were his own body, or even a projection of his body, he wouldn't be in such a predicament. Instead, he was stuffed into this broken-down shell.

The old mummy, who had been cursing in his heart, looked at the renewed spiritual light in the mage's hand and the human soldiers who had recovered and were ready for battle, and knew that if he got entangled here, things would probably be very bad.

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(End of this chapter)