Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

Chapter 47 Dealing with Outposts

Lance walked alone on the empty street, the night wind making the hem of his robe flutter.

He took the map out again.

The nearest hideout is just two blocks away, and it appears to be... a bakery?

When he arrived at the destination, he looked up at the sign and then down at the map to make sure he hadn't misread it.

The shop is small, with a crooked wooden sign hanging at the entrance bearing the price list:

Ordinary white bread - fifty copper coins each.

Honey bread—one silver coin each.

Cream bread—two silver coins each.

Lance stared at the price list for two seconds.

"A lousy loaf of bread costs so much?"

"Is your flour made of gold, or is your sugar made of gold?"

"As expected of a born evil cultist, I'll personally take you down..."

[Summoning scout mosquitoes!]

The mosquito emerged from Lance's hand and slipped through the crack in the door.

The scout mosquito's view came back—two people were guarding behind the door, wrapped in gray robes, leaning against the wall yawning. One was rubbing his eyes, and the other was stretching, their posture unsteady.

"Is this the level of security?" Lance shook his head. "They're not taking it seriously at all."

[Silence the mist!]

He went around to the side, found a half-open window, and climbed in without making a sound.

The two guards were still yawning at the door, completely unaware that someone had appeared behind them.

Lance walked up behind them and patted one of them on the shoulder.

The man turned around.

"Good evening," Lance waved to him. "Does your bakery guarantee the bread is cooked through?"

"Huh? Who are you?!"

[Magic Blast!]

"Don't answer questions with questions!"

Two ghastly green beams of light shot out from Lance's fingertips, separated by only 0.3 seconds—a time that even two ordinary guards couldn't react to.

Their bodies stiffened, and they collapsed to the ground, unable to utter a sound.

Lance pushed open the inner door.

Behind the bakery was a hidden space—a fairly large warehouse, with a few candles lit and seven or eight people gathered around a broken table.

Some were drinking, some were playing cards, and some were both drinking and playing cards.

In the corner, there was a guy muttering incantations to the distorted evil god symbol on the wall; he was probably praying.

The sound of the door opening made them turn their heads at the same time.

Then they saw Lance standing in the doorway, and the light shining from his fingertips.

Good evening, everyone.

Lance waved his hand, "Partners of Justice come to your door, food, lodging and cremation included."

A burly man with a face full of scars was stunned for a moment: "Huh?"

"Don't you understand?" Lance took a step forward. "It means you should go see the evil god you worship."

"Damn it, it's an enemy attack—"

The one closest to the door had just stood up when the [Alder Sign] was already smeared on his face.

The person flew out and knocked over two people behind him.

The warehouse instantly erupted in chaos.

Fifteen seconds later.

Eight corpses lay on the ground, blood splattered on the walls, and the unfinished deck of cards on the table lay scattered on the floor.

A spade ace floated to the edge of the candle, its edge charred, curled up, and turned to ashes.

Lance searched the man chanting sutras and found more than a dozen gold coins on him, and also found several pieces of silverware in a box in the corner.

Stuff them all into your pocket.

Before leaving, he glanced back at the price list.

"A butter bread that costs fifty copper coins is being sold for two silver coins."

He shook his head. "If you don't die, who will?"

Raise your hand, and start a fire as usual.

As Lance stepped out the door, a familiar glow of fire appeared behind him once again.

The second outpost was located deep in a secluded alley, with its entrance hidden beneath a pile of broken planks.

Lance lifted the wooden board, and a musty smell wafted out.

He frowned and walked down the steps.

The basement was quite spacious, lit by an oil lamp, and the symbol of the multi-limbed monster hung on the wall.

There were a dozen or so people preparing something. A black cloth was spread on the ground, with several wooden carvings and candles on it, making it look like they were performing some kind of evil ritual.

A burly man with a scar on his face stood with his back to the stairs, holding a dagger and muttering:

"Great Lord of Hunger and Thirst, Your humble and devout believer—"

"Excuse me."

The burly man suddenly turned around.

Lance stood at the top of the stairs, smiling and waving at him: "Your master was just killed once, did you know that?"

The burly man was stunned: "What?"

"I'll say it," Lance took a step forward, "that god you worship, the moment he descended as a projection, I blasted him to smithereens. He's probably hiding in his divine kingdom right now, crying his eyes out."

The basement was silent for a second.

Then the burly man's face turned red: "What utter bullshit!"

"Don't believe me if you want." Lance raised his hand. "Anyway, you can go and ask Him yourself soon enough."

[Aard Sign!]

A transparent ripple shot out from the palm and slammed into the burly man's chest.

The person was thrown into the air, crashed into the wall, and slid down, already dead.

A human-shaped bloodstain was left on the wall.

Lance glanced at it and said, "Hmm... this mural is nice."

Half of the remaining people were also knocked away.

The other half paused for a second, then instead of running away, they erupted into chaos and launched an attack on Lance.

"Kill him!"

"Avenge our master!"

"He killed Sixth Brother!"

Lance took a step back, without stopping his hands.

[Aard Sign] followed by [Aard Sign], then [Aard Sign] again.

Six seconds later.

Lance clapped his hands and started rummaging through things.

One of the professionals pulled out more than twenty gold coins, while another person rummaged through a box and found several strange-looking items.

They stuffed them all into their pockets.

They still set fires.

Then came the third, the fourth... and the seventh.

After resolving the issue, Lance opened the control panel.

[Killed 47 level 0 humans, gained 47 experience points]

[Killed 1 Level 6 Human Warriors, gained 60 experience points]

[Killed 4 Level 1 Human Wanderers, gained 40 experience points]

[Killed 2 Level 2 Human Warriors, gained 40 experience points]

[Killed a level 3 human priest, gained 40 experience points]

……

Current experience: 250/4000

He stared at the number for a few seconds.

"After working all night, this is all? The Church of the Lord of Hunger isn't very strong either..." He scoffed.

But thinking about it, it makes sense. Killing those ordinary soldiers now only gives you a little experience, but once you reach level 5, you probably won't get any experience at all.

The spoils were decent. There were over two hundred gold coins and a bunch of gold and silver jewelry, but most of them were sacrificial artifacts of the Lord of Hunger; I'll just melt them down later.

Come back home.

As I passed through an alley, I heard rustling sounds coming from inside.

Lance paused, turned his head and glanced at it.

A small black stray cat was crouching in the alley, rummaging through a pile of trash for something.

Hearing the noise, the kitten looked up, its eerie green eyes fixed on him.

Lance stared at it.

It stared at Lance.

"ha--"

The kitten started hissing and its fur stood on end.

"Suck, suck, suck!"

Lance pulled a sausage out of his pocket and threw it over.

Meow~~