Chapter 668 Book 11: Chapter 68: Interception (I)

“You’ve already helped us greatly. If it hadn’t been for you just now…” Elastor shook her head slightly, politely declining Qin Lun’s suggestion. “Besides, you’ve used that item now. Fighting again would be very dangerous!”

As a Chosen of the Goddess of Magic, Elastor naturally recognized that sliver of divine golden light clutched in Qin Lun’s palm. It was the Lucky Gold Coin, forged from the godly blood of the Goddess of Luck and the Goddess of Ill Fortune together!

“The side effects of this thing aren’t something you can just avoid. While the enemy isn’t focused on fighting now, even if an opportunity to kill me appears, they wouldn’t grasp it. It’s better to let the ill fortune dissipate faster.” Qin Lun looked down at the Lucky Gold Coin in his hand and chuckled softly.

“Well then… what do you propose?” Elastor considered this for a moment, finding Qin Lun’s reasoning sound, and nodded in agreement.

“Lady Elastor, were all the palace gardens decorated with this kind of vine tonight?” Qin Lun looked up at the fruit vines hanging overhead like bead curtains.

“This is a special variety prepared for the celebration, only present in the Banquet Hall.” Elastor’s eyes gleamed, immediately understanding Qin Lun’s meaning. “However, the Palace of the High doesn’t lack greenery anywhere. Just before the celebration began, we transplanted many large planters from outside for decorative purposes.”

Elastor frowned slightly. “You want to use a protective Wood-element spell… is that necessary? I already ordered the Mythal Barrier activated. Those Zhentarim assassins are trapped inside the palace like turtles in a jar—they can’t escape!”

“You’re too confident, Lady Elastor!” Qin Lun sighed. “Since the Zhentarim managed to get in, they must have prepared an escape route. I don’t yet know exactly what method they’re using, but the Mythal Barrier probably won’t be enough to hold them.”

As Mystra’s Chosen, Elastor had shown exceptional magical talent since childhood. Though she experienced countless adventures in her youth, she had never suffered a major setback.

In other words, this favored child of the Goddess of Magic walked through life with a protagonist’s aura. Every time danger arose, she would transform brilliantly, achieve a breakthrough in the midst of battle, or encounter a rescuer arriving at just the right moment.

Just like this assassination attempt—such a desperate situation hadn’t harmed a single hair on her head. The benefits of the Lucky Gold Coin favored her, while Qin Lun willingly shouldered its ill fortune side effects. Having lived her first half of life this way, it was no wonder Elastor possessed such supreme confidence.

However, perhaps this excessively perilous experience had shaken that confidence slightly. Hearing Qin Lun’s words, she finally frowned with curiosity. “What kind of Wood-element spell do you intend to use… Make sure it doesn’t cause too much destruction!”

“It won’t. It’s just adding an extra layer of security to the Mythal Barrier!” Qin Lun smiled and pulled an ancient-looking Magic Scroll from his robes. Tearing it open, a powerful and evil aura rippled through the space around them.

“A Beholder’s magical signature?” The fluctuation emanating from the scroll caused Elastor to pale slightly. She looked at Qin Lun questioningly.

“Eye Tyrant’s Will. Just an auxiliary spell scroll!”

By this point, Qin Lun had already focused his entire concentration. He answered with difficulty before shutting his eyes tightly. Countless veins bulged on his forehead like worms. He strained to raise both palms and slapped them firmly onto the Banquet Hall floor.

“Tree World Descent!”

…

A figure shrouded in a hooded Mage robe raced along a palace corridor. He looked strange. His robes seemed slashed apart by many blades, turning completely into beggar’s rags.

The skin beneath was deathly pale. In many places, cuts like baby mouths gaped open. His face was badly injured too, chunks of skin hanging loosely down.

Strangely, not a single drop of blood seeped from these wounds. In some spots, another layer of skin was visible beneath the dead flesh, as if he possessed two skins.

This was the infiltrator Angelo—the disguised assassin who had slain the Centaur lord. He was the Zhentarim member codenamed “Crow,” a quasi-Legendary powerhouse.

Crow’s profession wasn’t Mage, but Assassin—a formidable vocation blending traits of the Rogue and the Ranger. It offered the Rogue’s stealth and Agility, alongside the Ranger’s Perception and versatile combat prowess.

As the vanguard of this operation, Crow possessed the strongest escape ability among them. His role was to draw away the numerous guards Elastor had stationed near the Banquet Hall.

But plans rarely survive. The Silverymoon City Lord hadn’t deployed legions of patrolling guards outside the Banquet Hall. Instead, the defenders included powerhouses like the Storm Queen and Galanord, the Grand Druid.

His wounds were the result of a hurricane spell unleashed moments ago by the Storm Queen. Thankfully, his speed was still a fraction greater than Elasylin Silverhand’s, allowing him to escape the hurricane’s edge by a hairsbreadth.

Crow sensed two immensely powerful auras close behind him, prickling his spine like blades. His heart, usually as still as stone, was pounding violently. Waves of excitement and nervous energy surged uncontrollably within him. Those who walk in darkness crave this very edge-of-death thrill the most.

The figure, a wisp of shadow, darted around a corner in the corridor. Crow had no intention of fleeing straight for the palace outskirts. Not only was the Silver Guard sure to have encircled the entire palace upon receiving the alarm, but the Mythal Barrier shrouding the Palace of the High was impenetrable alone.

This corridor ended in the servants’ quarters. There lay a passage leading down to the underground levels. The Palace of the High’s subterranean complex had twelve levels. The top four included storage for food and wine, a prison, and an armory.

The fifth level housed a vast collection of miscellaneous items and large equipment—from riverboats to long ladders, battering rams, ropes, and various tools. The sixth level was the final resting place for Silvermoon’s greatest heroes—Mages and Druids who had once ruled the city.

Subterranean floors seven to twelve formed the Silverymoon Vault. It held astonishing wealth: piles of treasure, magic items, and Legendary Equipment. However, the vault was shielded by a separate recognition Magical Array. Any unauthorized entry would alert the Iron Golems within, activating their preset expulsion protocols.

Against the sheer power and numbers of those Iron Golems, even a full five-member Legendary adventuring party couldn’t prevail—especially with the Silver Guard also involved. That was without the Silver Guard intervening.

Crow’s current destination was the third level underground—home to the prison cells for dangerous captives.

While the Zhentarim had no shortage of suicide corps, most were low-ranked members. Those achieving High Rank, let alone Legendary status, were essentially the leadership. Such individuals were typically self-serving; few would agree to sacrifice themselves outright.

The Mythral Barrier mentioned by the Silvermoon City Lord was a magical shield formed by overlapping defensive spells. As Elastor said, it truly belonged to the war-grade category of protective magic.

Normally, the Mythal Barrier protecting the Palace of the High was almost impossible to breach, but it wasn’t entirely flawless. If two complementary Magical Arrays were activated simultaneously, one from within and one from without, they could force open a small rupture in the barrier for a brief period.

For military operations, a gap barely wide enough for a few people over a short duration was useless. For extracting assassins, however, it was perfect.

Naturally, setting up a small Magical Array outside the palace posed no difficulty with sufficient preparation. But establishing one inside the palace was much harder. The Zhentarim could infiltrate agents beforehand, but numbers were limited. Setting up an array required time and complete secrecy.

Having spies disguised as servants plant arrays in storerooms, wine cellars, or similar places involved risks. Staff frequented these areas, performing regular checks and cleanings—discovery was almost inevitable. Through immense effort, they’d placed one array in a servant’s room. Yet, they’d prepared a second contingency plan.

The perfect hideaway was the filthy, abandoned dungeon level! Silverymoon had two prisons: one beside the Silver Guard barracks, and the other below level three of the Palace of the High.

Their purposes differed. The first held minor offenders; the second incarcerated dangerous death row convicts. Because most serious criminals sentenced to death were career warriors—individuals ordinary cells couldn’t hold—this underground prison was built beneath the palace.

Elastor implemented an enlightened legal code in Silverymoon. Sentencing didn’t rely on her personal whims. Even prisoners condemned to death received long periods of reprieve.

The Zhentarim exploited this. Two months prior, they had a certain High Rank Mage deliberately commit murder. He was imprisoned in the palace dungeon accordingly.

This Black Robe Mage used these two months to painstakingly carve a hidden, small Magical Array into his cell floor. After the assassination attempt commenced, this array would resonate with another outside the palace, breaching the Mythal Barrier and creating an exit to extract the operatives. This escape route was specifically prepared for Crow, who faced the highest risk.

Crow raced at high speed toward the passage leading into the underground levels, when a tall figure rose to block the stairwell entrance.

“So someone really did come!” The figure muttered scornfully as Crow charged forward. “That guy always guesses right… does being a lunatic come with a divination talent skill?”

Seeing the obstruction, Crow’s pupils contracted. He slowed his pace, looking up to see who it was.

The figure belonged to a curvaceous woman with a devilishly beautiful physique and golden hair. Her gaze was icy cold. She wore an odd cocktail dress and a form-fitting skirt. Her arms were crossed, holding a pair of black-and-white revolvers in her hands.

The two guns resembled Gnome-made Magic Crystal pistols, but Crow had never seen this exact model.

“Milady! Stop the assassin behind me! They want to kill me!” Countless thoughts flashed through Crow’s mind in an instant. He made a decision. Plastering a look of panic on his face, he pointed frantically behind him. His feet never stopped moving, carrying him swiftly towards the strangely dressed woman.

“Oh, is that so?” Pakunoda’s gaze shifted over Crow’s shoulder, down the corridor behind him. Sure enough, she saw another figure, wrapped in a churning storm, charging towards them at great speed.