Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 609 Calculation
The two vortexes of fate, Baldur's Gate and Neverwinter, have already begun to emerge. Whether he chooses to or is drawn into them, Zhang Yuan cannot avoid being involved. The premature death of Grand Duke Iltan is a bloody warning.

He himself can hide and run away, but what about others? What about the people around him? What about the influence he has cultivated?
To treat one's life as a drifting duckweed, seeking only to survive and avoid death, is such a lowly and humiliating strategy, and one would not do it unless absolutely necessary.

Then we need to make plans early.

The Baldur's Gate cannot be rushed; it concerns the ownership of a powerful divine throne, and we don't even know which high-ranking beings have placed their bets or what their fates will be.

The stage is already set up, and anyone who tries to steal the spotlight is asking for trouble.

Master Zhang has figured it out: what he should do is take advantage of the intermission to clean up the mess, or rather, scavenge the battlefield and eat the leftovers.

It may sound harsh, but the risk is low and the returns aren't necessarily low.

His brief meeting with the Chosen One, Aberdel, greatly solidified his belief.

The opponent's obvious warrior-like demeanor largely implies that even if this divine child is not entirely ignorant of the mysteries, he would certainly be unable to grasp the true value of related matters, and thus regard them as treasures and keep them as his own.

Here comes the opportunity to snag a bargain!

How much is the loot from killing someone worth? Look at those mages who died under the sword of the Son of Slaughter. They only got a few measly items, a robe, a few scrolls, and the richest might get a spell ring or an accessory.

Compared to the wealth of the mages, it's all too meager.

Putting aside the game's mechanics, it makes sense, as spellcasters typically own most of their wealth in research equipment, facilities, and even "real estate" like mage towers.

These industrial facilities are extremely difficult to value and monetize for the descendants of Barr, whose lives have been filled with hardship and displacement.

The unlucky fellow, pushed along by the tide of fate, is running forward in a frantic rush, with no chance of establishing a firm foothold.
We've been picking up sesame seeds while losing watermelons along the way; so many truly valuable treasures have been missed and abandoned.

The Mage Tower, the Dimensional Sphere, and Irenicas's Spell Lab are all priceless; compared to these, the magical items he could create himself are merely treasures in a box.

He's not the only one who understands this principle; just look at the hyena-like behavior of the masked mage corps in Astkara to know what they're really thinking.

If I've already trained you as an apprentice, then when you leave, won't I also be able to help you inherit the family fortune?

Such despicable means of extortion and plunder are something that Master Zhang absolutely cannot tolerate happening right before his eyes.

Of course, if the person who did this was a time-traveler who stole the profits...

But then again...
Hmph, only among those in the same profession is there naked hatred.

There were a few things that Master Zhang had been talking about for a long time, and he was determined to get his hands on them.

Then we'll see who has the better strategy and the tougher methods!
The problem in the North, however, cannot be delayed.

Because this conspiracy is essentially a struggle between races for living space.

The Creator Race awakens from antiquity and reappears in the present world. It sounds grand and sophisticated, as if it will overturn everything, but upon closer analysis, it's just so-so.

It's just a story about an old popsicle who wakes up to find that someone has built a new house on his homestead.

Other city-states could remain neutral, but Neverwinter could not stay out of it. Who told you to be greedy for warm water and build your city on someone else's lifeblood, the primordial stone?
The contradiction between the two is almost irreconcilable. Whoever makes the first move and lays out the strategy, and wins by using more tactics and less calculation, will have a greater chance of winning.

More importantly, unlike the Baal's Rebellion, a stage play where the chosen ones face their predetermined end, war has no script.

Or rather, both sides in a war can write their own script, without worrying about a sudden deus ex machina from outside the arena.

Let it come then, since war is unavoidable.

As his thoughts became clearer, his will became stronger. Within a single day, the mage organized a meeting consisting of himself, Münster, the chieftain and elders of the Frostleaf tribe, and the white dragon Gisildra. Even the female druid who was in charge of agricultural affairs on the high cliffs was temporarily pulled in.

At the meeting, the mages did not reveal any information about the ancient races, but instead negotiated and demarcated the spheres of influence and areas of mutual defense among the various tribes under the guise of joint defense.

The division of specific territories, the procedures for supporting defense and even escaping and retreating were inevitably endless wrangling, and it took a lot of patience and persuasion from the boss before an agreement was barely reached.

Just at the very end of the meeting, the old monk seemed to have an idea that came to him unexpectedly:

“Our understanding of the depths of the world’s spine is still too limited. Each of your tribes can send small teams in to conduct reconnaissance and surveillance.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the hall fell silent, and everyone (Long) looked at each other in bewilderment.

"What we fear most is a boss like you, acting on a whim! Deep in the mountains? How could you even imagine that? How many lives do we have?"

Everyone was inwardly grumbling, which was understandable. Apart from Münster, everyone else had only witnessed the mage's super power in subduing the dragon, but had not seen any super wisdom.

Perhaps the master's great wisdom was telling himself to quickly use his super power?

The monk was well aware of everyone's concerns, but he was in no hurry to suppress their opinions with an iron fist.

He didn't want his image to be seen by his subordinates as a "three-slap" boss who would act on a whim, bang his head on the table, and then shirk responsibility and run away.

“Since you have followed me, I will not use the lives of your people as tools to satisfy my likes and dislikes.”

"This is a fog of deception."

As he spoke, the monk took out a small, round-bellied bottle with a narrow mouth, inside which swirled dark purple mist.

"It can generate enough spell cover to protect an entire squad, unless it is used in front of the enemy."

"There is no need to worry about supply; it can be obtained wherever there is exploration of unknown areas."

He casually tossed the fog bottle to Münster, indicating that he should demonstrate the effect, and then, ignoring the astonishment of the crowd of barbarians, began to discuss it with the woman, Dejetti, who was standing to the side.

The conversation between the two was not long, and after a few surprised expressions, Jady nodded.

"I have some good news for you all!"

Master Zhang smiled kindly, like a wealthy old landlord bringing good news to his tenants:
"After careful consideration, we at Gaoya have decided to launch a foreign food aid program."

what? !

The matter is not complicated and can be explained in a few words. With ample food reserves, the High Cliffs, in a fit of kindness, provided food to their allies through preferential trade or even free gifts.

The staple food harvests of the four quarters over the past two years in Gaoya Territory have given the mage lord ample confidence, making it no problem to help his subordinates.

But things aren't that simple. Putting aside barter trade, there are many different ways to provide food aid.

Free ≠ Free of charge.

To receive aid, one must provide valuable intelligence; this guild-like commission format is easy to understand and accept.

The older tribal elders felt something was amiss.

The conditions offered by the other party were far too generous; if you dared to take action, you would receive magical items as support, and if you made a harvest, you would receive a food reward.

Is this a mercenary force? Or is it a personal guard?
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