Spellcasting Gods

If nothing unexpected happens, those kids who drank themselves into oblivion will probably have a headache all day tomorrow.

After everyone left, Zhang Cheng immediately ordered the invisible servant to clean the house from top to bottom. Then, he took Elizabeth, who was also a little drunk, to take a hot bath and sent her back to her bedroom. He then quietly took out a parchment and teleported to the mysterious space where the tower was located.

"Welcome, Master. Norsen is at your service at any time." The metal golem guarding the door bowed its heavy body.

"Norsen, tell me, do you feel lonely?" Zhang Cheng asked with great interest.

The golem hesitated for a few seconds, then quickly nodded: "Yes, Master, I feel lonely. If possible, I would like to ask you to allow me to keep some small animals or magical creatures here."

“Of course! You can use the resources and space here as you please when I’m not here,” Zhang Cheng replied without hesitation.

Since absorbing the core of the fragmented world, the natural environment here has expanded to more than ten kilometers, and it occasionally rains, enough to form a complete ecosystem.

Of course, more importantly, he had a very strong interest in this intelligent golem.

It's important to understand that while the continent of Faerûn possesses highly advanced golem-making technology, the number of people truly capable of creating golems with independent thought, personality, and even souls is extremely limited.

More than half of them relied on the famous "wish-making technique," receiving help from unknown gods, demon lords, or devil dukes, and could not be considered as having mastered the secrets of creating life.

But Norsen is different; it was clearly created in this place, where wishes cannot be made.

This means that the creators of Norsen have also received authority from the Creator and have conducted more in-depth and thorough research.

"Thank you so much! I promise you, when you come back next time, this place will be a beautiful world." The metal golem waved its thick arms, its tone revealing intense excitement and joy.

Zhang Cheng shrugged nonchalantly: "It's nothing, don't mention it. Also, I'm going to be going through all the books on the first floor for the next few days, so please don't bother me unless it's absolutely necessary."

"understand!"

Without saying a word, Norsen immediately took heavy steps and ran towards the pool not far away, seemingly intending to use part of the tower's power to create some simple small animals such as fish and birds.

Ignoring the somewhat unusual metal golem, Zhang Cheng went straight into the tower and began to browse through the books on the shelves one by one.

Judging from the various and completely different texts above, these books were obviously collected and compiled from different worlds, and several of them were even alchemy and enchanting textbooks from the magical kingdom of Dalaran.

In addition, there are a small number of notes and manuscripts left behind by the ancient empire of the Imaskach Mechanists, one of the two magical civilizations created by humans on the continent of Faerûn.

Although the content is limited, it offers some very interesting ideas, especially the part about how to give mechanical constructs intelligence, life, and soul, which is truly eye-opening.

He couldn't help but wonder if, if the Burning Legion's fel technology were combined with the Netheril civilization's recycling of magical energy, along with the Imaskach Mechanics' unparalleled creativity in constructs, could they create a truly inexhaustible and massive legion?

Of course, it's still a long way from achieving this with just a few messy notebooks and notes.

However, he has an unparalleled advantage: he can travel to other worlds and use other people's resources to conduct his own experiments. In short, he can use others' resources to his advantage.

Illidan Stormrage, whose mind is filled with the flames of revenge against the Burning Legion, would certainly not mind having an additional army of loyal and unwavering constructs under his command.

……

For three consecutive days, with the help of the powerful energy bestowed upon him by the divine, Zhang Cheng read through all 700-plus books on the entire floor without sleep, firmly memorizing the recipes and knowledge within.

After doing all this, he did not hesitate to pass through the portal to the world of Azeroth and once again descended upon this mysterious planet surrounded by countless mysterious forces.

Before he could even take a moment to assess his surroundings, he saw a burly ogre charging towards him, drooling and laughing maniacally, "Hahahaha! Human! Flesh! Magor is hungry! Magor will eat you!"

"Ugh, I hate running into brainless idiots..."

Zhang Cheng sighed helplessly and immediately forced his mind control ability into the other person's brain.

In less than two or three seconds, the cannibal who called himself Magor staggered and fell into a state of confusion.

About half a minute later, the chaotic memories and thoughts in his mind finally became clear. He took the initiative to approach and prostrated himself on the ground with great respect, shouting, "Supreme and great master! Your faithful servant is at your command."

It goes without saying that this unfortunate guy has been controlled by psychic powers, just like a mind flayer controlling a slave.

After all, ogres in the world of Azeroth are not a race known for their intelligence. Perhaps a small number of warlocks and wizards are clever and cunning, but ordinary ogres are basically like mentally challenged children, their minds filled with primal desires such as eating, sleeping, and fighting.

Looking at the idiot kneeling in front of him, Zhang Cheng shook his head and asked, "Tell me, Magor, where is this place?"

“Master, this is Dustwallow Marsh, and Fernwall Village is not far from here.” The ogre raised his head and pointed behind him.

"Dust and Mud Marsh? Fernwall Village? So you're from the Stonehammer tribe?" Zhang Cheng quickly searched his memory and confirmed the other party's identity.

After all, Dustwallow Marsh is one of the Black Dragonflight's strongholds. Including the Black Dragon Princess, a large number of young black dragons, dragonkin, and young dragons have taken advantage of the complex terrain of this swamp to multiply and try to restore their former glory.

So, apart from Theramore Island, which is protected by Jaina, the only other faction left is the Stonemaul Ogres.

It's unclear whether Fernwall Village is currently ruled by the original Stonehammer ogre leader or has been taken over by Rexxar and become part of the Horde.

If it's the latter, then naturally there's no need to say anything; just pack your bags and leave.

But if it's the former, then he wouldn't mind using these thousand or so ogres to conduct a small experiment...

Chapter 0596 Fernwall Village

Fernwall Village, a gathering place of cannibals standing in the dust-shrouded northwest, is currently undergoing a brutal test.

Large numbers of black dragonmen and young dragons surged out of the swamp, attempting to eliminate all these potential threats.

Some of them are powerful spellcasters who can easily unleash deadly fireballs, while others are outstanding warriors who, with the innate strength of their dragon bloodline and the defensive power of their dragon scales, drag out the ogres on the periphery one by one and kill them.

In the blink of an eye, more than a dozen cannibals lay unconscious in pools of blood.

Without a doubt, these Stonehammer ogres who once followed Gul'dan to sea in search of Sargeras' Tomb no longer possess the formidable aura that once instilled fear in their enemies; all that remains is an extreme thirst for survival.

To avoid the Black Dragon Legion's slaughter, they had already abandoned the town they had built in the south of the swamp.

But who would have thought that even after running so far, the black dragons still wouldn't let them go.

After all, compared to Theramore, which is guarded by powerful mages, the ogres in Fernwall Village are a complete pushover.

"Damn it! Block the breach! Don't let those dragonmen break in!" Mogmurok roared, waving his fists the size of sandbags.

After Rexxar, the Beastmaster, killed Kogl, he appointed him as the Great King of the Stonehammer Clan. This enormous, fat man was the supreme ruler of the entire clan.

No one can disobey his orders unless someone defeats him in a challenge.

"No! No! There are too many enemies! And... and they have dragons!" another ogre replied, pointing to the young black dragon swooping down from the sky.

But no sooner had he finished speaking than...

A deadly attack came down from the sky, burning three or four unfortunate men alive.

Given the abundant fat beneath the bloated bodies of cannibals, they are easily susceptible to chain reactions when attacked by high-temperature flames. In some extreme cases, their subcutaneous fat even burns them to a crisp.

"No! The Stonehammer Clan cannot retreat any longer! Charge! Let's teach those nasty black dragons a lesson!"

Mogmurok roared as he swung his spiked gauntlets and slammed them hard into the head of a black dragonman who had charged in.

The latter was clearly caught off guard by the swift and accurate attack, and was knocked to the ground with a thud.

Upon seeing this, the other ogres around immediately picked up heavy weapons such as warhammers, axes, and wooden clubs, and quickly turned the dragonman into mincemeat.

Unfortunately, this small victory was clearly not enough to reverse the overall downward trend of the war.

Taking advantage of their aerial superiority, several young black dragons set the entire Fernwall Village ablaze in the blink of an eye, turning the entire village into a sea of ​​fire.

Just as Mogmurok gritted his teeth and was about to order a retreat, a dark cloud suddenly covered the sky.

Before either side could even react, something had happened!

Terrifying ice spikes then rained down from the sky!

puff!

Puff puff……

"what!!!!!!!!"

"There is a spellcaster!"

"Retreat! Retreat now!"

……

Accompanied by screams echoing across the battlefield, numerous dragonmen, young dragons, and adolescent dragons who were unable to dodge were pierced by the solid ice carrying immense momentum, their bright red blood splattering everywhere!

In less than three to five minutes, half of the black dragons that participated in the siege of Fernwall Village lost their precious lives, and the rest, disregarding everything else, turned around and ran towards the swamp.

They weren't fools; they knew how powerful the spellcaster was, capable of unleashing such a wide-area destructive spell—something they simply couldn't handle.

Sensing the lingering chill and the thick stench of blood in the air, Zhang Cheng took a deep breath, stepped over the corpse of a young black dragon, and walked up to Mogmurok. He spoke in slightly broken Orcish, "I challenge you!"

"What?!" The ogre leader's eyes widened, a barely perceptible look of terror flashing across his face.

There's no way I can not be terrified!

He wasn't one of those brainless individuals; he understood that the spell he had just witnessed was most likely cast by this unassuming human in front of him.

To have such mastery of arcane magic is definitely the work of a human archmage, like Jaina Proudmoore of Theramore; I simply cannot be her match.

“I said, I challenge you. According to the tradition of the ogres, you either accept the challenge or relinquish your dominion. Don’t try any tricks, or I won’t hesitate to let those ice spikes fall on your heads.” Zhang Cheng threatened with a half-smile.

Through his conversation with Magor, he learned that although the Stonehammer clan had been conquered by Rexxar and become part of the Horde, Orgrimmar had not yet sent anyone to establish a permanent connection with them.

So even if all these ogres disappear, theoretically it won't cause a war between the Alliance and the Horde, since in the end, Onyxia, the black dragon princess, and her legions will take the blame.

Sensing the murderous intent in the other's eyes, Mogmurok swallowed hard and gritted his teeth as he explained, "No! I can't do that! Rexxar will kill me!"

“Don’t worry about Rexxar, he won’t know what happened here. Besides… I will grant you and your men power, immense power. Of course, the condition is that you kneel at my feet and call me master, just like he did.” With that, Zhang Cheng turned around and waved to the back of the woods.

A tall, two-headed ogre spellcaster slowly emerged from the damp swamp.

The leader on the left grinned and shouted, "Margo! Become stronger!"

"Markel! You've mastered the power of magic!" The right head, not to be outdone, raised its right hand and unleashed a blazing fireball.

Without a doubt, with the help of the evolution potion, the fat man who was originally extremely stupid has now completed the transformation of his life form and become one of the few two-headed spellcasters among the ogres.

In particular, the tough, dark brown stratum corneum covering its skin is four or five parts similar to the hill of Goron in Draenor, and its size is almost twice that of its kind.

"Margo? You... how did you become like this!" After recognizing the newcomer, Mogmurok was completely stunned.

"Great master! Grant us strength!"

"That's right! It's painful, but it's also powerful!"

"Choose now! Surrender! Or die!"

Marco and Markel's heads split open, their狰狞 faces displaying cruel and bloodthirsty expressions.

With the help of the evolution potion, they not only gained spellcasting abilities, but also regained a portion of the Hill Gronn bloodline, resulting in a significant change in their personalities.

After all, the original ogres were said to have originated from the powerful bloodline of the Gronn, and the potion helped them regain some of their original bloodline, including their ferocious and brutal nature...