Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

Cold, but not shivering...

Lance opened his eyes in a daze.

One second he was sent flying by the impact of the wind, and the next he was kneeling on the cold, rough stone ground, with thick hemp ropes wrapped around his wrists and ankles.

Look at the surrounding environment...

If Lance wasn't mistaken, this should be a prison cell.

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here?"

Lance frowned in confusion.

I should be either in the hospital or in the underworld right now.

Why is he in a prison cell? Could he have time-traveled?

"hiss……"

Lance suddenly felt a sharp pain in his brain, and fragments of memories flooded back.

On the continent of Faerûn, a half-elf, he was orphaned and destitute from a young age.

On a rainy night when he was five, he huddled under the eaves of a house in the slums, carefully hiding his pointed ears, which belonged to a half-elf. A human woman threw him half a moldy loaf of bread.

When I was ten years old, I stole vegetables from a vegetable vendor at the market and was chased for three blocks.

At the age of fifteen, he was captured by human traffickers and died of fear.

"So being struck by incredible luck really can lead to time travel!"

"But how come I was an orphan before I transmigrated, and I'm still an orphan after I transmigrated?"

"And they were even kidnapped!"

"Hey kid, you're pretty resilient, huh? You woke up pretty quickly too?"

Just as Lance was muttering to himself, a rough male voice interrupted his thoughts.

Just as Lance was internally complaining, a gruff male voice interrupted his thoughts.

Looking in the direction of the sound, they saw a man in his forties, wearing a linen coat, holding a long spear that had been polished to a shine, with a face full of fierce features.

This outfit makes him look like a standard cannon fodder character.

Lance didn't say anything, he just stared at him coldly.

Seeing that he didn't speak, the man took two steps forward and poked his shoulder hard with the butt of his spear, almost knocking him over. He sneered, "Why aren't you saying anything? Are you scared out of your wits? What a spineless coward."

"Speak," the man said, raising his spear as if to strike.

Lance remained silent, but secretly memorized the man's appearance.

Once I get out of here, the first thing I'll do is kill you, for telling me to talk too much!

With her hands behind her back, she had already quietly hooked the knot in the hemp rope and was slowly untying it.

Fortunately, I had learned this because of my work.

"Stop messing with him. The boss said this cargo is going to be sold to Baron Yodl. If we kill him, we won't get any money, so we'll just have to use you to make up the numbers!"

Another roar came from the stone gate in the distance. A burly man with a round face and a thick beard leaned against the door frame, a dry straw in his mouth, and a rusty curved knife with a cracked scabbard at his waist.

"Sold to Baron Yordle? Ha, you're in luck, kid. Baron Yordle has a thing for delicate little boys like you!"

The man with the spear sneered and poked Lance's cheek again.

"Not to mention you're a half-elf, tsk tsk tsk, I wonder how many days you can survive in his hands."

Seriously, would it kill you to shut up? Why are you so rude? And that Baron Yordle, I'll kill your whole family when I get out of here!

Lance gritted his teeth, the sweat on his back sticking his linen clothes to his body. The ropes on his hands had been untied, leaving only the ropes around his ankles.

Fortunately, he was kneeling on the ground with his legs bent, so the two bastards couldn't see his movements at all.

The enemy only had two people, and judging from their shabby clothes and weapons, they probably weren't any experts.

With one against two, the advantage is mine!

The only challenge is... how to make these two people die quietly.

When facing multiple enemies, the difficulty of the confrontation increases exponentially.

Although Lance didn't think he would be killed in return, it was still possible to make them make noise and attract their accomplices before taking them down.

If only we could distract one of them...

As Lance was making his calculations, the man with the spear suddenly turned his head, his voice low but full of lewd greed:

"That half-elf girl, so delicate and frail, with such fair skin... Shall we two have some fun while the boss meets with the buyer?"

The bearded man sat bolt upright, his face filled with terror, and hurriedly waved his hands: "Are you crazy? If you lose your virginity, you won't fetch a good price. The boss will skin you alive and pull out your tendons!"

"Idiot, it's just for fun, it doesn't necessarily mean you have to lose your virginity," the man with the spear spat, looking at him with utter disappointment.

"After we're done playing, we'll wash ourselves clean. Who can tell? I said I won't lose my virginity, and I won't! The boss won't care. Are you going or not? If not, I'll go myself. Don't get in my way!"

The bearded man's gaze drifted and landed on Lance, his eyes sticky and unsettling, sending a chill down Lance's spine.

He hesitated before speaking, "Well... it's not that I don't want to play, but to be honest, this half-elf boy is more to my liking than that half-elf girl!"

"This kid is even better looking than women, with delicate skin and a face that's much better than that woman!"

"I work 8 AM! It's disgusting!"

Lance lowered his head, his eyes wide, and silently untied the last knot.

"Not a buddy?"

The man with the spear paused for a moment, then abruptly took two steps back, distancing himself from the bearded man, his face full of disgust. "How come I never knew you had this hobby?!"

"Why are you backing away?" The bearded man was speechless, spitting out a mouthful of saliva. "You might not have a mirror, but you must have to pee, right? Why don't you take a piss and look at yourself in the mirror to see what you look like!"

"My liking for men doesn't mean I like you!" the bearded man shouted, his face full of dissatisfaction. "To put it bluntly, even in a sword duel, you wouldn't stand a chance!"

"Then I'm relieved." The man with the spear breathed a sigh of relief, patted his chest, and turned to walk deeper into the corridor. "I'm going to the half-elf girl's place. You stay here and watch over this kid, don't let him get away!"

"Get out, get out of here!" The bearded man waved his hand impatiently, but his eyes were fixed on Lance, the lust in his gaze so naked and nauseating.

Watching the man with the spear disappear around the corner of the corridor, the bearded man licked his lips and slowly walked towards Lance, his steps very light.

He walked up to Lance, his thick, rough hand reaching out to pinch Lance's cheek.

"Little beauty..."

The bearded man's voice was hoarse and filled with intense desire. Before his hand could even touch Lance's face, Lance suddenly moved.

He suddenly ducked, deftly dodging the dirty hand, while simultaneously slamming his right elbow into the bearded man's abdomen.

The force was swift and ruthless, carrying the pent-up anger and resentment of the day.

He opened his left hand, fingers together, and thrust it upwards at the bearded man's throat.

The bearded man grunted, the foul language stuck in his throat, unable to be spat out or swallowed, his face turning red.

Lance didn't stop. After delivering the elbow strike with his right hand, he reached for the rusty scimitar tucked at his waist. Just as his fingers gripped the hilt, he twisted his wrist sharply, slashing the blade upwards.

The blade sliced ​​through Lance's throat, but there was no piercing scream, only the sound of blood bubbles bursting. Warm blood sprayed onto Lance's cheeks and neck, sticking to his skin and slowly flowing down.

The bearded man's body convulsed violently twice, his eyes widened in disbelief and terror, his hands futilely clutching his neck, trying to stop the gushing blood, before finally crashing heavily to the stone ground, kicking twice, and then becoming completely still.

Lance braced himself on his knees and took a breath, his chest heaving violently, his expression indifferent.

He gently brushed the blood from his face with his fingertips, a surge of exhilarating killing intent coursing through his veins.

[Killed 1 level 0 human, gained 50 experience points!]

[Arcanist in the process of becoming a professional...]

[Congratulations on successfully becoming an Arcane Mage! All your attributes +2, Intelligence +2]

[Because your race is half-elf, your Charisma +2, Constitution +1, Agility +1]