Equipment Printing School Mage
Page 464
However, the mess caused by Gracia and her group was so big that even if Bayer was very busy, he had to make time for it at this moment.
Bayer looked up and saw the two figures, but he remained surprisingly calm. After stuffing a bundle of freshly distributed intelligence into his deputy's hands, he strode forward and said, "Princess, Lord Mammon, you have truly made outstanding contributions to Silvermoon City."
It was strange. Gracia naturally held a superior position to a Nine Hells servant like him, and Mammon was also his former superior, and their apparent relationship was not bad. So, in theory, the three of them were equals, yet Bayer still maintained a relatively humble attitude.
Gracia took a deep breath, refused to discuss the topic any further, and said simply, "How is the war going now?"
"Elturgard has launched an all-out offensive. Most of the reports piled up here are from there. The rest, hmm, are reports of attacks on Thayr. Both Agorrond and Halruaa have launched attacks on Thayr's lair. The only good news is that no enemy forces have been encountered around the Desert of Eonok."
Mammon, who had never cared about the war, said casually at this moment: "Emya and his men have always been good at cutting off the source of the trouble, rather than trying to overwhelm others and then win at the negotiation table. It is very unnatural for them not to attack the Eonok Desert."
However, Bayer sneered at this moment. "Indeed, it is. It just so happens that I was originally assigned two helpers to defend Cormyr and the Eonok Desert. I wonder if you would be willing to recuperate in these two places for a while."
-By the way, could you please start doing your own work instead of running around and causing nothing but trouble?
"I have already sent a lot of subordinates!" Gracia protested.
"That's the Eonok Desert!" Bayer's facial muscles twitched. "If the enemy intends to attack here, they must send a decisive force! The succubus may be an excellent backbone force on the battlefield, but facing attackers determined to defeat the enemy in one blow and aim to kill the gods, what good is the entire succubus army on the battlefield?!"
You yourself stayed in the Eonok Desert, thank you!
"I don't mind," Gracia snorted, "but I'm afraid she won't want to—not to mention Mammon will be there."
Mammon was the second most hated Devil Duke by Asmodeus, second only to Baalzebul, who had once directly challenged Asmodeus for the position of Lord of the Nine Hells. Even the human-faced maggots at the banks of the River Styx knew this. Rather, the fact that Asmodeus would allow Mammon to come to the material plane was something that surprised many Devil Dukes.
At this moment, Mammon unexpectedly said, "I think we might as well give it a try."
"...?!"
Bayer and Gracia looked at each other in astonishment.
One of the important reasons why Mammon has a bad reputation in the Nine Hells is that his daily attitude can be said to be completely without integrity - although Asmodeus does not like him, he does not care at all, and his daily attitude can be described as flattering.
He doesn't often say such humble words.
As if realizing something, Mammon's body relaxed slightly. "After all, it was His Majesty the All-Knowing One who personally asked me to come here... I think she has already seen some of my efforts!"
"What did you see?" Gracia breathed a sigh of relief and said unhappily, "Over the years, only your vault has been expanded again and again."
Mammon smiled widely, and even a bit of philistine appeared on his huge, ugly face: "Nonsense, I even trained a devil duke for your majesty."
Mr. Bayer sighed silently at the Devil Duke he had trained. He had just thought Mammon's personality would change. Sure enough, he was almost going crazy from exhaustion.
Bayer shook his head. "Anyway, you two should recuperate for a while. I still need to redeploy my troops and contact potential allies... I'll excuse myself for now."
-----------------
And the Aeonok Desert also welcomed guests at this time.
In the vast expanse of yellow sand, Talos, the God of Storms, descended upon this place and faced the All-Knowing One in silence.
"I can indeed raise my bet," Talos said. "It's true that the Church of the Storm is crippled, but I still have a powerful trump card. However, I doubt you have enough chips to exchange."
"Will the Fury Pantheon become the state religion of the new world?"
"Thunder only reaches the ears after the lightning, but the two actually happen at the same time." Talos said coldly, "The thunder heard the next day was caused by another lightning."
What Talos meant was that he didn't want any blank checks.
He wants cash.
"Then, this is the deal." A rare touch of fatigue appeared on Quanzhiyi's beautiful face. "But before I bid, I have to know what I want to buy."
"Unfortunately, this is my secret. Even the fact that I have this secret is a secret." Talos said, "You only have one chance. If you don't offer a sufficient price, I won't even tell you what I have."
"You like gambling more than I do."
"Thunder may destroy trees, but not every tree will be destroyed by thunder," Talos replied.
The All-Knowing One was silent for a while, then stood up and said, “—Then, I also have a secret to share with you.
"I believe this is a very valuable secret... and once you know it, you will tacitly work with me to protect it."
Soliciting opinions on the next writing direction
Now, this book is at the very end of its life. So, I have to ask for your opinions on what you'd like to read more about. So, let's do a simple poll here, and I'll adjust the proportions of each section based on the votes. And by the way, I'm taking a day off.
1. After Emiya has distributed a large amount of equipment, I will spend some time to elaborate on the changes on the battlefield.
Second, we should still focus on the communication among the top leaders of various forces. People who have had friendship with Emilia in the past should come out as representatives to describe the changes brought about by Emilia in a side way.
3. King Emia is still the same as before, taking charge of diplomacy, logistics, and the front line, running around everywhere.
The first two will reduce Emilia’s own positive scenes, and the third will inevitably sacrifice rationality.
Eighty-nine Beastmen
The full-scale war in Faerun has officially begun.
When the news reached Mithril Hall north of Silvermoon City, Drizzt Do'Urden realized that the world was changing too fast.
Tearing apart the Malar Church and destroying the Baenre Church's front... He had thought this was a war that only happened once every few decades. But in reality, it was only the beginning of everything.
Mithril Hall, the kingdom of the dwarf Bruenor, Drizzt's best friend and father-in-law.
A drow became the son-in-law of a dwarf because he fell in love with a human... This is also one aspect of the emotional life of the people of Faerun.
However, the bond that connected them, Drizzt's late wife, died in the Year of Blue Fire and the Spellbane. Over the past hundred years, the two men unknowingly became friends again.
The friendship they forged in the flames of war should have been unbreakable—if a new Halruaan Mage King hadn't intervened.
Of course, Emya would not intentionally destroy their friendship. However, this most famous craftsman among humans did not have a good reputation in the dwarf kingdom.
This is especially true in Mithril Hall.
"Who cares about Silvermoon City? Stop talking!" The King of Mithril Hall roared at Drizzt. "Be it the drow, Talos, or the devil! If they want to come, let them come!"
"Bruenor, my friend." Drizzt couldn't help but hold his forehead. "I went through so much trouble to go south to help them. So in exchange..."
"Exchange? What exchange?" Bruenor snorted heavily. "I only saw that our great ranger went south once, changed his armor and weapons - hell, when you first came back, I thought you were a high elf from Evermeet, no, from Arvandor!"
"That's too much," Drizzt replied. "How could a high elf wear such armor?"
Yes, after the Battle of Malar, His Majesty the Mage King of Halruaa provided Drizzt with new equipment as a token of gratitude.
Drizzt was used to wearing a tough mithril armor under his clothes - and this mithril chain mail was provided by the craftsmen of Mithril Hall.
However, when Drizzt returned, he acquired several more sets of black armor.
A headband, breastplate, shoulder guards, and finger-guards made of a matte black metal called dark steel. It was a set with the pair of shadow blades he had just acquired.
Almost weightless, yet incredibly strong and impervious to swords and spears. The outer plate armor is incredibly perfect.
Drizzt was happy, but the dwarf didn't think so.
The dwarves were very unhappy about this - you have worn mithril armor for so many years, but instead of being satisfied with our work and not needing any additional support, you think we are too stingy but are too embarrassed to say it?
It was obviously a huge shame to let Mithril Hall's most important guest not wear full equipment for over a hundred years.
At this point, Do'Urden really couldn't boast about the properties of dark steel in front of the dwarf - this is a kind of mithril among mithrils, and it can be said to be a great metal prepared for warriors who are good at agile combat. Its performance is even better than mithril. Otherwise, Drizzt would not have accepted this kind of outer armor that would hinder movement - after saying this, he probably wouldn't be able to see the blacksmith of Mithril Hall for several months.
In the end, he could only play dumb and hope that time would dilute everything.
The dwarves, unwilling to repeatedly prod at this thorn in their side, dropped the subject. Bruenor, Lord of Mithril Hall, muttered, "Mithril Hall is nearly the northernmost point of Faerûn. Even if an enemy were to attack, it would be the Silvermoon Alliance that would first call on us for aid. They won't come even though they're only two rivers away. Do they expect us to send our own forces to help?"
Even if the Mithril Hall wants to send troops to help, it is the other side that is asking for help from the Mithril Hall. There is no reason for them to take the initiative to lend a hand.
Dwarves never touch other people's cold butts, they just kick them.
...or a hammer.
At the same time, because Mithril Hall is located in the far north, it can be said to be one of the safest places in the world. It only has two threats: the drow from underground, and its northern neighbor, the Orc Kingdom of Many Arrows.
Yes, there are orcs in Faerun.
The status of this race in Faerun is quite delicate. It can be said to be a model of silence for ten years and then a sudden stunning success: this race does not often produce earth-shaking figures, nor does it often move around the continent.
However, once a move is made, it will be a destructive war that subverts the entire continent.
Most terrifyingly, unlike those more common evil forces, the orcs' record of victory is truly legendary: the dwarves, once the dominant race in Faerûn, have become a secondary race today precisely because they lost to the orcs' destructive frenzy. To exaggerate a bit, the orcs actually have a record of annihilating entire worlds.
"But that triangular alliance in the south... damn, Baldur's Gate and Elturgard are due west of Faerûn, Halruaa is due south of Faerûn, and Agorrond is in the far east. On average, each country is separated by thousands of kilometers. It's a pity that this alliance can be formed--" Bruenor sighed.
Drizzt replied, "I actually think that the farther apart countries are, the less likely they are to have conflicts of interest."
"Just like me and our neighbor, the Kingdom of Many Arrows." Bruenor snorted. "Honestly, now I can only pray that those orcs don't want to come out of the mountains to find something to do at this time. If that happens, let alone saving others, it would be Moradin's blessing if we don't ask for help."
At that moment, a dwarf warrior from Mithril Hall rushed to the front of the palace. His gruff voice filled the living room with a humming sound: "Your Majesty! This is bad! News has reached the Emerald Court: the Arrow Orcs seem to be making a move. They appear to be preparing to march south!"
Drizzt and Bruenor looked at each other.
"Bruno, are you interested in becoming a prophet?" the dark elf commented mercilessly.
Ninety Today's adventurers are too outrageous
The orcs' activities were more than just a bolt from the blue for the Mithril Hall.
The kingdom's only two enemies are the drow, who crawl out of the ground, and the Kingdom of Arrows to the north.
Yes, a kingdom. The orcish Kingdom of Many Arrows is one of the most famous orc settlements in Faerun. Of course, orcs are short-lived. Over the past century, the orcs have probably had three or even four kings—but their ferocity has never diminished.
Mithril Hall is not a very powerful country, and the number of soldiers capable of fighting is no more than a thousand.
The orcs of Faerûn, however, have always been known for their numbers. The Many Arrows, north of Mithril Hall, were the most notorious tribe in Faerûn before they became a kingdom. If this kingdom decided to invade southward, Mithril Hall would likely be unable to stop them.
"Is the news accurate?!"
The dwarf who came to report the news said breathlessly, "The druid... said so."
Everyone in Mithril Hall actually has a good relationship with Goddess Mielikki, and they also have some connections with the nearby druids. The information should be reliable.
Drizzt immediately stood up: "Then I will go."
"It's too risky for you to go alone." Even though this could be said to be Drizzt's usual style, Bruenor still hesitated. "Those orcs have established a nation for nearly a hundred years. They are not just a group of chaotic small tribes... Wait."
At this point, Bruno slapped his thigh. "I think a group of adventurers came to Mithril Hall yesterday? Where are they now?"
-----------------
The group of adventurers had indeed not left. They seemed to be visiting Mithril Hall for tourism or shopping, rather than the usual troublemakers.
When Trist met this group of strange adventurers, he realized that this team of adventurers might really be suitable to be temporary teammates.
However, what surprised Bruno was that this group of adventurers did not look like adventurers at all.
In the reception room of Mithril Hall, facing the Dwarf King, they were neither humble nor arrogant, showing a seriousness and earnestness rarely seen in adventurers.
Even stranger, their equipment was quite…standard.
Everyone was wearing close-fitting insect shell armor, and some had strange cylinders hanging around their waists.
Before getting down to business, Bruenor's spirit of craftsmanship made him deflect the question: "...Are you retired from...some army? That's burrower armor. Where did you find so many burrower armors, and where did you even find a craftsman to make them for you?"
As if a switch had been turned on, the faces of these former adventurers immediately revealed expressions of pride, even complacency.
"...?"
The captain coughed lightly and stood up. "This armor is our team's most successful and fortunate investment. It all started last year, when we were in Elturgard and participated in the Rite of Truth of the Church of Oghma. Well, although we don't know exactly what happened, the devil attacked us out of nowhere."
"Is this the reward for your meritorious service?" Bruno was a little surprised. "I heard that the Hell Knights were all equipped with quite good equipment. A hundred years ago, each of them had a set of plate armor...but now they can give armor to all adventurers? Did the money just fall from the sky?"
Even the wealth of Mithril Hall, which was quite astonishing, could not withstand such consumption. Perhaps only the Mage King that Drizzt had boasted about for a long time would treat money so lightly.
"Earned money." The captain chuckled, flexing his biceps. "A burrower carcass is worth 400 gold pieces, and a set of armor like this is worth 800 gold pieces. Those who are significantly larger than normal are worth 2000 gold pieces. Back then, we killed over twenty burrowers in Elturgard and made a killing."
"The Diggerworm Plate Armor only costs 800 gold coins. Who sent this quest?!" Bruno Warhammer's eyebrows twitched when he heard the offer.
If all dwarf craftsmen accepted work orders at such a halved price, they would be so poor that they would have to pawn their pants in a few years.
"That's another point." The captain's smile was so bright it looked like a blooming flower. "We haven't grown much in the past few months, but the one who crafted our armor has grown tremendously. I estimate that in a few hundred years, these armors we wear will be antiques of great collectible value."
"...Tsk." At this point, Bruno's face darkened. "So, the creator of the armor is Emilia of Lunya."
"You are right."
The Dwarf King hammered his helm in frustration, his face flushing slightly. All his discontent finally dissolved into one sentence: "Let's get down to business! We recently received word from the druids that there seems to be some unrest in the orc kingdom to the north. We need a team to investigate. Our core goal is to confirm the truth of the orcish preparations for war, or even the imminent deployment."
This group of adventurers were certainly no rookies. The captain subsided, his delighted expression fading as he spoke seriously, "Don't we need to investigate their specific plans? We just need to confirm the deployment itself?"
"If anything, it's imperative that we hurry." This matter hinged on Mithril Hall's survival, and Bruenor's voice grew serious. "The distance between the border of the Many Arrows and Mithril Hall is only a hundred kilometers. At full speed, that muscle mass could reach the outskirts of Mithril Hall in a matter of days—not even enough time for us to move."
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