Master of Spells from Faerun

Chapter 24 The Warlock

At the entrance of the village on the shallow water beach, a group of lizardmen are fighting with the people in the village.

There are at least two to three hundred lizardmen. They are not free creatures like goblins. Lizardmen have scales that are as defensive as light armor and sharp minions. Most importantly, the elite lizardmen will also ride a lizard beast as a mount.

The villagers in Qianshuitan rely on the defense facilities to barely keep the village from being captured, but according to the situation on the field, it seems that this is only a matter of time.

"Fire arrows!"

On the stone wall, a one-eyed man with a sword and a blindfold shouted loudly, he is Baron Baron of Shoal.

The archers of the security team picked up their bows and arrows and shot into the distance, but the sparse firepower brought only sparse arrow nets. Occasionally, only one or two unlucky ones were shot, and the rest of the lizardmen were riding lizards.

Seeing that these lizardmen were about to charge up, Baron Baron drew out his long sword to give instructions.

"Ready to contact! Spearmen come out!"

Members of the security team with standard long guns walked to the outside of the stone wall, ready to poke off the lizard man trying to climb.

At this moment, the combat power in many taverns arrived on the battlefield, and Baron Baron was overjoyed when he saw it

"Let go of the city gate!"

Baron Baron was about to leave the city to face the battle. With new reinforcements, the pressure on the shallow water side was instantly relieved. It was a better choice to fight outside the city, which could prevent the helpless villagers in the city from being harmed.

Jerome picked up the religious emblem, and after silently praying, he shouted, raised his long sword, and led the crowd to the outside of the city to stand in a group with the lizardmen.

Imrik imposed Sky Mastery on himself and flew to the city wall to observe the performance of the Dragonlance Adventurers.

As expected of a dragon-born paladin, Jerome's physical fitness is extremely strong, probably only a little worse than that of a copper furnace. Even a lizardman whose strength surpasses ordinary people's is no match for an opponent under his command.

The warrior Zack and the rogue Domira are slightly inferior, but they still crush these lizardmen who generally only have the strength of a first-level professional. Especially Domira, she is obviously more inclined to the development of an assassin than a thief. The ghostly figure shuttles through the battlefield, patiently waiting for the opportunity to harvest lives.

Imrik didn't make a move. His strong perception attribute made him smell a different atmosphere, as if there was an extremely foul smell coming from afar.

He summoned the leader of the warriors in the caravan and told him to bring the copper stove to the backyard of the tavern. Imrik had a hunch that these lizardmen would not be all enemies.

In the distance, a lizard man in heavy armor whispered to a man with a strange temperament beside him: "Your Majesty Calis, it's your turn."

The strange man nodded and walked forward, while constantly chanting spells in his mouth. The difference was that his spells were all chaotic and meaningless word combinations, as if he was praying like some kind of crazy creature.

"Smelly cloud technique!"

Three-ring spell-smelly cloud spell.

With the end of the spell, a burst of yellow-green gas quickly spread on the battlefield. The location of the stinking cloud spell was specially selected by the evil man near the city wall.

The foul-smelling gas diffused, and those who smelled it couldn't bear to bend over and retch, and it was too serious, and some people were even stunned by the foul gas!
The strange man's spellcasting caught Imrik's attention on the stone wall.

"This evil ability . . . so wild, warlock?" Imrik murmured speculatively.

Warlocks are spellcasters who serve powerful and evil god-like powers and ancient evils, and call them suzerains. They are generally twisted and chaotic.

The essence of a warlock is similar to that of a priest, but due to the difference in the source of spellcasting, the power that warlocks get from their suzerain is much worse than that of a priest.

To put it simply, a magician has very few spell slots per day. A sixth-level magician only has four spell slots per day, regardless of level. That is to say, no matter what spells he casts, even the most basic spells will consume one spell slot.

It can be said that if we only look at these spell slots, the warlock is undoubtedly an extremely disabled spellcaster profession.

However, since the masters of warlocks generally belong to other visitors from the distant universe beyond Faerun, they have the ability to use wild magic without going through the magic net.

They can use the magic flame transformed from the wild magic power in their body unlimited times a day - also known as magic explosion.

The magic flame is the energy directly transmitted from the source of the suzerain, and it is endless. As the level of the magician increases, the magic flame will also increase its damage.

But the magic flame also has its flaws. First, it cannot be too far away from the magician. Once it is too far away from the magician, it will be assimilated into harmless wild magic power by the magic net. Therefore, the magician often has to carry out dangerous close-range combat.

The second is that Magic Flame is a single-target attack, and its growth rate is not very high, so compared with high-level spells, its attack power is much worse.

But no matter what, the magician relies on the magic flame, and it is well-deserved the strongest early-stage spellcaster profession.

The black-robed mage on the stone wall cautiously observed the warlock in the distance, and the boiling black flame in his hand clearly declared his identity.

Kalis continued to chant the incantation, foul language spewed out from his mouth, evil energy radiated from his body, and a bunch of gorgeous black wings grew from his back, and every incitement brought a foul-smelling wind.

Three rings of magic - the wings of darkness.

Relying on this spell, Kalis flew to the battlefield. He stayed on top of a member of the security team who was stunned by the stinky cloud spell, praying loudly for the name of his evil suzerain, and a burst of black flames rose from his hands.

"Magic energy explodes!" The black flame rushed towards the member of the security team and instantly ignited his body. The faint black flame wrapped around it like a poisonous snake, and the comatose guard was awakened by the severe pain, wailing fiercely in the fire. This evil black flame will inflict great additional pain on the subject.

Kalis looked at the human beings who were suffering under his feet with enjoyment. In his opinion, the highest art is to let living intelligent animals feel extreme pain and watch their own lives die little by little.

Jerome watched in pain as Kalis abused to his heart's content. His kind nature made him unable to bear such evil slaughtering innocents in front of him.

"No! Evil spellcaster, you will pay for it!"

Jerome forced himself to stand up, the continuous vomiting made him almost exhausted, but he still insisted on picking up his long sword, panting heavily and looking at the opponent.

Just when he was about to rush at the opponent desperately, even sacrificing his own life to kill the evil.

"Sandstorm."

An indifferent voice came from a distance.

(End of this chapter)