Equipment Printing School Mage

Some people now believe that a mage's advancement means they can learn more powerful spells and cast more powerful fireballs...

But Emiya's mentor believes that the most important improvement from the promotion should be the ability to do things that were absolutely impossible before.

Although they are all spellcasters, their powers have different focuses because of the different sources of their power.

He needed spells that were only fifth level, but were enough to make even higher level druids busy.

Emiya slowly flipped through the pages of the instruction book, reading the instructions for the spells, and then stopped at the end of the book.

On the page was a simple diagram drawn by his mentor - a transparent sphere with a four-meter radius marked on it.

Before explaining the principles of the spell in detail, his mentor wrote in his usual neat, almost printed handwriting:

Force field wall is a very special spell.

This sphere, woven with a force field, was indestructible and unbreakable. Even a storm giant couldn't destroy it with brute force. Furthermore, despite being a persistent spell, it couldn't be dispelled by dispel magic, and even a powerful anti-magic field was powerless against it.

There are only two ways to bypass its effects: destroy it head-on with Disintegrate, or use a spatial spell to bypass its effects.

Disintegration is a sixth-level spell exclusive to mages and warlocks.

There is no shortage of space jumps in Druid spells, but they are all deeply bound to the forest and the earth without exception.

It is it.

Just before he was about to start writing, he hesitated and decided to appease the biggest destabilizing factor in the team.

He took out the remaining roasted venison from last night's cave, which was still covered with frost left by the spell.

The paladin remained motionless in the hut that Emiya had built for him. Perhaps he hadn't woken up yet.

It seems that there is no way to escape this matter.

Emiya shook her head, heated up the barbecue with a magic trick, and placed it next to Yin's hut: "Yin, are you awake?"

To his surprise, Yin was not sleeping soundly. He almost immediately heard Yin's lazy sound as he woke up: "Huh...what's up?"

"I have to concentrate on copying books for the next ten hours, so I'm afraid I can't do anything else. I'll leave breakfast here, but lunch will probably have to wait a while."

However, he had originally thought that Yin might make a small fuss, but the answer he got was unexpectedly reasonable: "Learning magic? Isn't that the most important thing in the world? You don't think I would disturb you while you are studying, do you?"

Strangely, Yin's voice inexplicably had a sense of unfamiliarity and politeness.

However, what she said was very consistent with the identity of a magician.

"Thank you very much." Emilia had just stood up when a sudden idea flashed through her mind. She squatted down again and asked into the opaque wizard's hut, "Yin, what day is it today?"

To Emiya's surprise, Yin's words this time didn't have the weird feeling of time dislocation at all: "I just woke up yesterday! You ask me this?!"

However, next, Emilia felt like she was hit by another blow.

Yin reached out and took the barbecue, then casually replied, "Yesterday you said it was the 19th of the Sunny Month, so today must be the 20th."

Emilia was silent for a moment: "...Today is the eighteenth."

"Huh?!" Yin's voice paused for a moment, and then he stuck his head out of the wizard's hut and met Emiya's eyes.

Then, she said in a tone of sympathy, "...Mr. Emiya, your time is so chaotic."

"You are the only one who has no right to say this!"

Author's words: Author's note: There was no update yesterday because it took some time to think about the next plot. You should be able to see the updated content before tomorrow morning.

Thirty-eight Kha

"Praise to Thom (the God of Loyalty)!!!"

When the sound of the Chongsa River finally reached the Hell Knights' ears, they heartily raised their hands and cheered. The violent movement caused their metal armor to collide with each other, making a clanging sound.

They were envoys from Eltoril, who had been invited by the Sharptooth Forest Circle to go to the Sharptooth Forest to formally establish diplomatic relations with the druids.

The Chongsa River is a vast river, its width measured in kilometers. At its mouth lies Baldur's Gate, the renowned port of Faerûn. Further upstream lies Elturgard, a realm renowned for its chivalry and zeal. Eltoril is its capital.

The Flaming Fist Mercenaries are the primary armed force in Baldur's Gate. In Eltoril, the group that performs this function is known as the Hell Knights.

While this name makes them sound like followers of the devil, it's actually quite the opposite—they bear this name because the city once raised an elite army to march into Hell and defeat the devil. While this expedition ended in disastrous defeat, it successfully imbued the city with an enduring spirit: protecting the weak and fearing the powerful.

Unlike many of their counterparts, they, as the nation's foremost armed force, are respected and worshipped rather than feared.

Day and night, they fight against forces that threaten the safety of innocent people.

Thanks to their efforts, the area protected by the Hell Knights is also one of the few places where caravans along the way can relax their vigilance.

Naturally, the cost of such behavior is high. The work of a Hell Knight is inherently dangerous, and it's said no Hell Knight has ever successfully retired. The high moral standards held by Hell Knights are even rarer. To the point that some poets consider Hell Knights to be nothing more than paladins without vows.

Therefore, the Druid Circle of the Sharptooth Forest was willing to take the initiative to visit and express friendship. This naturally made the Eltoril people and the Hell Knights ecstatic.

This was no exaggeration. A hostile druid ring could be devastating to nearby settlements. Vast farmland could not withstand the wrath of the druids. The Sharpfang Forest lay not far from the Chongsa River. If the druids had any intentions, Elturgard, the realm of Eltoril, would suffer a crushing blow.

However, when the country's considerations fall on specific individuals, they become a heavy burden.

Although they were not afraid of difficulties, the long journey of several days in a completely unfamiliar forest was indeed a tough job - the long journey made their condition extremely bad.

Of course, a large part of the hardship along the way was self-inflicted - for example, in order to maintain the image of the Hell Knight, they insisted on wearing armor throughout the journey: they would never take off their armor unless they were too tired to move.

Thus they succeeded in making an already arduous journey even more difficult.

Not to mention, on their return journey, they did not return along the same route, but instead turned west on the advice of the team's pastor, taking a long detour.

As their taut nerves relaxed, their complaints naturally flared up. A female warrior removed her helmet, cradling it in her arms, and glared at the priest. "Sindar, we listened to you this time and specifically rejected the invitation of the Druids of Moonsong and emerged from the forest on our own. If you continue to use the excuse of 'this is exciting' to evade us this time!"

She thought for a moment and held up three fingers: "—at least three days of ale!"

This sure-win proposal naturally garnered support from the remaining soldiers: "That's right! We've already circled the Chongsa River! If we hadn't taken a detour, we should be home by now. But now, after several days, we're only halfway there! It's a shame not to treat us to a drink!"

The priest named Sindar looked to be in his thirties. Clerics of the goddess of fortune were known for their lively and enthusiastic nature, but Sindar was now filled with worry.

He murmured, "Since we set out from the forest, I've been fortune-telling every day. When we planned to return the same way, the result was [Unlucky]. Taking a detour was [Lucky]... But after we decided to take the detour, we didn't encounter any adventures and continued to stumble along the way... Do you know what this means?"

The other members collectively shook their heads. "How could I possibly know anything about you pastors? All we know is that you used to criticize divination as unreliable once a week."

The melancholy in the priest's eyes grew deeper. "The results of divination are very ambiguous. Under normal circumstances, the result of my divination is always [good and bad]. Is there any risk-free return in this world?"

"However, ambiguity doesn't mean error... According to the church's records, there is no precedent for divination results being completely opposite to reality. In this case, we acted according to [Ji]'s plan, but did not gain any benefits. This is extremely abnormal."

Several soldiers looked at each other: "...So?"

Sindar whispered, "I guess there's only one answer—we're still alive, and that's the biggest benefit."

"Ha!" This answer caused his companions to burst into laughter. "Such suspicious words are very strange to come from the mouth of a lucky priest!"

The Church of Luck is arguably the most reckless entity on this continent. In theory, it encourages believers to not fear the inevitable risks. As long as they are prepared to the best of their ability, they can boldly embrace adventure.

However, in practice, it's inevitable that a large number of people choose to ignore the principle of "making the best possible preparations." Consequently, believers in the goddess of luck, especially those who take risks, are often seen as reckless and lacking in planning.

Therefore, priests who earnestly practice the teachings of the Goddess often appear quite conservative in comparison.

This group of Hell Knights consisted of four men, like the other squads, all clad in steel armor, each with their own warhorse, and even a cleric of the goddess of luck. This configuration was certainly far from fearless in Faerûn, but it was certainly well-trained—at least, common enemies were unlikely to kill them. At least, even if they were to spare their horses' stamina along the way, they could always mount and flee dozens of kilometers.

"Anyway, we're only a dozen kilometers away from Baldur's Gate. I'll do another divination. If the result is normal, then I'm overthinking it."

The pastor was not angry - his companions were willing to travel a long distance with him, even at the cost of walking an extra hundred kilometers, which was already a proof of their trust.

He held up his holy symbol, a round silver plate, and began today's divination.

It is dusk, and the view is clear. If the silver plate successfully reflects the sun's rays, it is auspicious. If clouds obscure the sunlight at this moment, it is both auspicious and inauspicious.

Bad omens, on the other hand, are often various rarer phenomena.

Sindar took a deep breath and focused his attention completely on it.

Of course, on a clear afternoon in late summer, what could completely block out the sunlight? The sunlight naturally fell on the silver plate with great ease.

But unfortunately, this is what will happen at this time.

Just at this moment, a falcon flew across the sky above their heads, its broad wings sweeping across the sun.

The shadow it cast was just enough to engulf the priest entirely.

The priest looked up in astonishment at the dark silver plate.

Coincidentally, at this moment, the falcon was also watching them.

Almost at the moment when the two sides met eyes, the falcon changed its direction and swooped down towards them.

Several warriors froze for a moment before pulling out their weapons one after another, cursing, "Damn it! Is this beast really looking for death? There's no druid here!"

The pastor was silent for a moment, then said in a barely audible voice: "...No, maybe..."

As the falcon got closer and closer to them, the Hell Knights were shocked to find that the falcon was incredibly huge.

——The falcon’s body length may be several meters.

It is impossible for an ordinary wild beast to have a body size of this level.

However, in mid-air, the giant eagle shed its wild beast appearance at some point and turned into a white-haired old man in mid-air.

It was undoubtedly a druid.

The Hell Knights were stunned for a moment, not knowing whether to sheath their weapons.

And at this moment, the druid made the decision for him.

The druid completed the spell in mid-air, and the roaring magic storm gathered around the druid, erupting into a howling gale.

Before the storm of magic dissipated, the shadows that covered the sky and the sun had completely submerged them.

The priest looked up in astonishment.

The druid had disappeared, and what came into view was a giant beast made of snow-white scales.

It was at least several dozen meters long, with wings on its back and limbs ending in claws that could tear through steel. Its thick, long tail streaked across the sky like a snow-white wall.

——That was an adult white dragon.

The evil five-colored dragon is a natural disaster that can turn a city into an iceberg with just its breath.

This kind of creature should live in the ice and snow of the north and should not be active in the warm South Sword Bay.

The old druid's voice slowly reached their ears: "You guys, it was really hard for me to find you."

Obviously, this white dragon was transformed by a druid.

Although druids are good at transformation, true dragons are definitely not within the transformation range of normal druids.

The only possibility is that the druid used the nine-ring spell, shape-changing.

This spell, which may seem ordinary in name, is undoubtedly one of the most deadly spells in Faerun.

It allows the caster to transform into the most deadly creatures in the world and gain almost complete power from them: giants, true dragons, titans, elementals - the upper limit of its power depends almost entirely on the caster's own insight.

Now, there was only one question left: why did the druid cast this spell in front of them?

From the moment the white dragon appeared, the priests felt a huge pull on the reins - their warhorse companions could no longer withstand the dragon's terrifying pressure.

The priest's three companions couldn't help but scream. The dignity of the Hell Knights only prevented them from turning around and running away immediately. The so-called charging with swords was just a pipe dream.

Smelling the stench from the white dragon's mouth, the priest let go of the reins and tried to speak calmly, but his legs couldn't stop shaking and his teeth chattered wildly. "I'm sorry, Master Druid... Have we violated any rules in the forest?"

At this moment, the white dragon did not launch an attack. Instead, the wise voice of the old druid rang out from its mouth: "I should be the one to apologize. According to my custom, I should give you time to escape before killing you. Killing people is not my hobby."

"But, there's no way around it. You guys managed to lose me for days. As a result, I have to race against time now."

"……Why?"

"Ah, I can answer that for you." Bai Long walked slowly around them. "You were invited by Moonsong to participate in the [Competition]. That's all."

The priest shuddered, took a deep breath, and shouted to his companions: "—Run! What are you waiting for!"

And the white dragon's breath came faster than his shout.

From the nostrils and from the gaps between the sharp teeth, the dragon's breath roared in without warning.

The breath is invisible, but the ice crystals blowing towards your face reveal them.

It is faster than the swiftest galloping horse and colder than mountain glaciers.

The soldiers had already raised their legs, but the priest's mouth was still open.

Before time began to flow, they had already turned into ice sculptures and lost their lives.

The druid transformed back into his human form, approached his masterpiece, and carefully observed the priest's attire. "...Okay, that matches. It's the fourth-ring priest of the Church of Tymora."

At this point, he sighed sincerely: "Is this how lucky the Tymora Church is? They actually slipped away from under my nose. If they really entered Baldur's Gate, it would be troublesome."

After confirming that the double-sun badges on the men were intact and could prove their Hell Knight identities, the druid breathed a sigh of relief, thought for a moment, and turned back.