Who made me a red dragon

Chapter 156
Chester stood quietly on a raised sand dune, looking at the sand sea in the distance, his dark eyes were filled with sorrow.

"When will those mages from Haunted Soul City show up?"

It has been half a year since he sneaked into the Bedai barbarians in disguise, but he still hasn't found any traces of those mages from the City of Shadows. He is very sure that the barbarian tribe he is in has something to do with those mages, but the connection between the two parties is extremely secretive, not at all. He can hear it at this level.

Thinking quietly, soon, there was a hint of anxiety in the wanderer's brows.

"I can't go on any longer. I can't get into the upper echelons of this barbarian tribe. It's too dangerous to use a mask as a substitute."

Chester is very aware of his disguise ability. Using the Mask of Illusion, he can indeed disguise himself as some people, but it is okay to pretend to be some fringe people. After all, no one pays attention to him, but if he wants to pretend to be those high-level people, he has no such ability at all. .

This is not just a matter of personal voice and style. As a wanderer, his body shape is far from those of the high-level barbarians. If he wants to pretend, he will undoubtedly die.

"We have to find another way to force out those mages from the City of Shadows."

Chester knew very well that those mages just wanted to hide in the dark and control them. If he wanted to get them out, there would only be some big changes, but what exactly was this big change?

Thinking about these questions, Chester gradually fell into deep thought. At this moment, his horse suddenly made a cry. When Chester took a look and found that it was just the natural behavior of the horse, he turned his head and prepared to continue thinking. What happened before.

But at this moment, he seemed to have discovered something. He turned back and looked at the horse again. Chester's eyes couldn't help but fall on the head hanging behind the horse.

It was the head of a Zhentarim assassin who had tried to attack him on his way back, but he had clearly overestimated himself.

"Is the Zhentarim?"

Reminiscent of the various struggles between the Bedai barbarians and their opponents on the black road in the desert during this period, Chester rolled his eyes, and he suddenly had an idea.

One week later, one night late at night, Chester once again carried out the expedition mission assigned to him by the captain of the barbarians. Most of this mission was to find the oasis where the tribe would migrate, determine the status of the oasis, and check whether the area near the tribe was safe.

Normally, Chester would offer snacks for this kind of task, but this time, he was not going to complete this task, or in other words, he had a more important thing to complete.

Riding a horse to a certain hill in the desert, brushing off the remaining wind and sand on it, a V-shaped mark appeared. Seeing this mark, the corners of Chester's mouth slightly raised.

"I remember it should be hidden here."

His hands began to throw away the sand layer violently, and after a while, a thick burden appeared.

"Sure enough."

Excitedly took out the burden, untied the knot, and the familiar clothes appeared again.

He couldn't wait to change out of the worn-out tattered trench coat on his body, and returned to his previous wanderer attire.

"That should be no problem."

Checking his current attire, Chester was sure that the other party would not recognize him as a member of a barbarian tribe.

After burying his clothes, Chester turned his head and looked towards the west of the desert. If the information he got from his fellow barbarians was correct, the Zhentarim people should be not far in that direction.

"Hope things work out."

Whispering to himself, Chester got on his horse, and he quickly ran towards the west of the desert.

A few hours later, Chester came to the top of a sand dune. Not far in front of him, many fires were flickering, and many figures on patrol could be vaguely seen.

"The Zhentarim Society is indeed here!"

Knowing the opponent's location, Chester tied the horse to a hidden place, while he moved forward quietly under the cover of the night.

Cautiously avoiding the sight of those patrolmen, Chester quickly scanned the tent in front of him. Soon, he saw a tent with gorgeous decoration and a huge area. If he guessed correctly, it should be A Zhentarim leader's tent.

His eyes flickered, Chester moved forward quietly, his body moved quickly like a shadow in the Zhentarim camp, when he passed by a small tent, Chester stepped out, and there was a crisp sound outgoing.

His complexion changed, and he looked down, only to see a weathered skull shattered under his feet.

"Damn, I didn't see it!"

Chester was a little annoyed, as a top wanderer, he shouldn't have made such a fatal low-level mistake!
He hurriedly looked around, and saw that everything around him was as usual, and no one seemed to have noticed the noise. He breathed a sigh of relief, and Chester walked forward again, but compared to the last time, Chester was more careful this time point.

The dark figure slowly sneaked through the night, and while observing the surrounding situation, Chester thought to himself.

"My stealth skills have declined a lot. The life of a barbarian is indeed deadly."

For more than half a year, Chester mostly mingled with those barbarian soldiers, and those burly guys would only pass the time by sparring when they were chatting about nothing.

As a rogue, Chester actually hated this kind of head-to-head combat, because he could easily find a backstab opportunity and insert the dagger into the opponent's heart.

But in the sparring with those barbarian soldiers, he couldn't do this. He could only block the opponent's slash, and then fight back with more ferocious force. In this case, even dodging is a kind of ridicule. practice.

Chester hated these things, because the tactile feel of the scimitar with every strike of the blade made him feel more like a warrior than a rogue.

Under the guidance of that strength, he seemed to be walking out from a remote corner, so as to face a more real self.

"It's time to end, this life."

After whispering these words, Chester looked up and saw that the thickest and most gorgeous tent in the camp had appeared in front of him.

(End of this chapter)