Lord of Spells from Faerûn

Faced with Elminster's question, Imrik hesitated and did not tell the truth. The true goddess of magic, Mystra, had fallen. It was best to stop this matter and bury it in the dust.

"I'm sorry," Imrik said.

Elminster sighed and said a little tiredly: "Thank you for your help, Imrik, but I hope you can pay attention to your own safety first. The power of gods is not that simple. If Bane is really willing to If the army comes"

He took a puff of cigarette, white mist enveloped his face, and behind the faint mist came his words: "Take it, at the critical moment, escape from here."

A black scroll floated in front of Imric under the influence of telekinesis, with faint golden stripes swirling around it.

"This is a [pardon]."

Imric asked curiously: "[Pardon Order]? What is this?"

Elminster smiled and explained: "You can think of it as a scroll capable of carrying legendary spells."

"A scroll that can carry legendary spells?" Imrik couldn't help but be a little surprised. The complexity of legendary spells is not comparable to that of nine-level spells. There is actually a scroll that can carry legendary spells.

"The [Pardon Order] is a treasure from the Eastern Karatu Continent - the Shoulong Empire. Each Pardon Order is endowed with a legendary spell. This [Pardon Order] stores the legendary spell [Wings of Freedom] , allowing the caster to teleport freely within the next 5 minutes without any spell restrictions, even the nine-ring spell [Time Stop] or [Dimensional Anchor] cannot stop it."

When Imric heard this, he couldn't help but feel excited. The power of legendary spells is self-evident, but they are also extremely complex.

Legendary spells are divided into ritual spells and non-ritual spells. For example, the legendary spell [Plague Rampage] used by Serdarus is a ritual spell. This spell requires the use of a magic circle and the assistance of the mage group, but because Serdarus Si is a legendary mage with extremely powerful magic, and he has compressed the power of legendary spells so that he only needs the assistance of a female drow mage.

How could such a spell be compressed into a spell model and sealed in a scroll?

Elminster saw Imrik's confusion and explained: "Don't be curious about the principle. The Shoulong Empire is an extremely developed imperial civilization. They have very advanced magic technology. The legendary spell scroll is indeed a very difficult thing to achieve." idea, but they have unique means to realize it.”

"Have you seen those golden lines? In every [Amnesty Order], there is the power of the gods. This is why the [Amnesty Order] can store legendary spells. I traveled there hundreds of years ago. In the continent of Karatu, the relationship between gods and humans is closer.”

Imrik nodded thoughtfully. It seems that the realization of the legendary spell scroll is still related to the omnipotent divine power. This is not surprising.

He put the pardon order away. He would not use this thing unless he had to. Wouldn't it be nice to wait until the legend copied this spell into the Book of All Laws?

After bidding farewell to Elminster, Imric returned to the Craggy Tower. At this time, several people and the servants of the city lord had returned to inform them of the conversation with Elminster.

Morglin believed he had mobilized his forces in the most effective way to meet Bane's larger force, but the Lords of the Vale were still worried about Elminster's position in the battle.

"I guess Elminster still thinks that the real battle will take place in the temple of Lathander," Morglin said sadly,

"We need him to help protect the border! Tymora, we have to reason with him."

"I'm afraid we will be the first to do this." The city lord's servant said with a smile.

Moglin also smiled, "Maybe you are right, Elminster has indeed been guarding the valley. But if I can pry out a little information from his mouth, it will be enough for me to praise him for a lifetime!"

When Imrik walked in, Moglin hurriedly greeted him. He already knew that this powerful mage promised to help them. Although spellcasters are the most unreliable combat power at this time of year, at least he can help in many places. Get busy, such as setting up magic traps and building magic facilities.

"Mr. Imric! That old man in Elminster didn't make things difficult for you, right? His temper is like that sometimes, unpredictable!" Moglin said with a laugh.

Imric shook his head: "No, Elminster is fine. We talked about some issues about city defense. I will join Shadow Valley to help you in this battle."

Moglin said very happily: "This is great, how about you help us take a look at the magic traps outside the city? I know you people may have some difficulties now, I just hope you can help us provide professional knowledge in logistics. Can."

"no problem."

After receiving the answer, Moglin waved his hand and announced that a private dinner would be held tonight to celebrate the arrival of the heroes. Wine, barbecue, song and dance performances, in the warm Shadow Valley night, the lights of the rugged tower were on all night long.

But not everyone was so happy that night.

Looking at Kelanvor and Midnight singing and dancing in the distance, Cyric just stood quietly in the corner and watched for a while, and then returned to the room.

As soon as he entered the room, Cyric's boots slipped on a smooth floor and almost fell to the ground. When he looked closely, he saw a pool of blood-like stains in the center of the room.

Cyric reached out to touch the red stain, his fingers trembling as they were stained with liquid, and then touched his tongue, trying to figure out what it was.

As if something exploded in his mind, Cyric felt his body hit the wall far behind, and then fell onto the bed. He was vaguely aware of the damage he had done to the wall and himself, but his consciousness wandered among dreamlike illusions and foggy sounds, making it impossible for him to distinguish between illusion and reality.

All he knew for certain was that someone had entered the room and locked the door.

Before falling into unconsciousness, Cyric seemed to hear the man laughing.

The next thing the thief realized was the taste of bitter almonds in his mouth, his throat was dry and sweat was pouring into his eyes. He heard his breathing sound heavy and irregular, and his body hurt as if his skin had been peeled off. His vision and hearing suddenly returned, and he found himself lying on the bed, with a gray-haired man sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to Cyric.

"Shhhhhhh, don't move yet, kid," the man said, "you just got a shock."

Cyric tried to speak, but his throat hurt, causing him to cough, which only caused more pain.

"Get down," the man said. Cyric felt something pressing his back, pressing him onto the bed. "We have a lot to talk about. You can only speak softly, but don't worry, my senses are pretty sharp."

"Marek," Cyric said in a low, unmistakable voice. "Weren't you locked up a long time ago!"

Marek turned to face Cyric and shrugged. "I escaped from prison. Have you ever heard of a dungeon where I could be trapped?"

"What are you doing here?" Cyric ignored the other person's boast.

"Okay..." Marek said, getting up from the bed. "I was going back to Zhentil Keep, but the journey made me tired. I entered Arabel using the credentials of a soldier. A professional mercenary, and no one will remember him."

Cyric interrupted him: "What on earth do you want to do? I don't have time to listen to your nonsense."

"Do you think I will attack you? Don't be stupid, I'm here to chat with you." Marek said exaggeratedly.

"How did you get into the tower?" Cyric asked.

"Come in. Don't forget, I'm part of the guard now."

"But how did you know I was here?"

Marek smiled strangely and said, "It's God's arrangement, good boy."

"What do you want to do?" Cyric said. "You want to reveal my identity? Want others to know that I was a thief in Zhentil Keep?"

"Of course not," Marek said. "If I did that, how would I stop you from exposing me? You see, I just want you to stay silent until the battle is over. That's why I came to visit you." .”

"Why?"

"I want to escape from the battle, change sides, and return to Zhentil Castle with the victors."

"Victor," Cyric muttered.

Marek smiled, "Look around you, Cyric. Do you know how many men have been gathered at Zhentil Keep? Despite the preparations here, despite the advantage of the forest between here and Fernla, the shadows Valley still has no chance of winning. If you're smart enough, you should follow my lead and get out of here with me."

"You said it once," Cyric said.

"I'm your savior," Marek said. "I'm giving you another chance to live the life you're meant to live. That's the way you are."

"No," Cyric said, "I will never go back."

Marek shook his head regretfully, "Then you will die on the battlefield. For what? Is this your battle? What does all this have to do with you?"

"For what you cannot understand," Cyric said, "my honor."

Marek couldn't help but laugh. "Honor? As a nameless corpse left to rot on the battlefield, what honor is there? The days away from the guild have made you a fool. I am ashamed that I ever regarded you as my son!"

Cyric's face turned pale, "What do you mean?"

"That's what it means! Nothing more. I took you in when you were a child, raised you, and taught you."

Marek sneered, "It seems there's no point in that. You're too old to change. And neither am I."

Marek turned to leave, "You're right, Cyric."

"about what?"

"On the last night you left me, you called me a selfish person, which is right. But the guild doesn't care about you at all, only I want you back. If it weren't for my persistence, they would have forgotten that you ever existed pass."

"what about now?"

"I don't care now," Marek said. "You mean nothing to me. No matter what the outcome of this war is, I never want to see you again. Your life is your own, do whatever you want." .”

Marek turned away with a decisive look on his face, and a sly smile appeared on his lips. He always knew how to play with the boy's soft heart, and he would still return to his feet, playing tricks on him, trying to Looking for the "freedom" that doesn't exist.