Chapter 116: Outside the Cave (Two-in-One)

Behind him rode a blue-eyed ranger clad in chainmail, fury blazing across his face as he pursued him relentlessly. The arrow that had just whizzed by came from the longbow in the ranger’s hands.

Seeing the expression on the rider’s face, Zhao Xu immediately understood that the guard who had been shot after removing his helmet must have had a close connection with this man.

Yet Zhao Xu felt helpless. Such matters clearly had their rightful targets and grievances—why was he, a mere passerby, being chased and hunted down?

In the blink of an eye, the ranger controlled his horse with his legs, freeing both hands to raise his bow once more.

Zhao Xu had no choice but to raise his own hands and prepare to cast a spell.

So far, he had only used two level-one spells today, one of which—“Summon Mount”—had been cast through the versatile spellcaster feat.

But Zhao Xu was not on flat ground; the intense jolts from the mount severely disrupted his casting.

It was like trying to maintain composure and pose for a photo while riding a roller coaster.

The horse’s hooves struck the muddy grassland with steady strides, but Zhao Xu was unable to widen the gap between himself and his pursuer.

Suddenly, a second arrow sliced through the air.

Zhao Xu, in the midst of casting, heard the sound and quickly attempted a defensive dodge, only to realize the arrow was not aimed at him. Instead, it struck the summoned mount beneath him.

The horse winced in pain, rearing back—a disastrous moment that fully exposed Zhao Xu’s unskilled riding.

Despite gripping the reins tightly and squeezing the saddle, Zhao Xu could not prevent himself from being thrown off.

[Adventurer Midsummer makes a Concentration Check: 4 (level) + 2 (Constitution) + d20 = 6 + 6 = 12, exceeding the save DC 11, casting succeeds.]

At the moment Zhao Xu fell from the horse, his concentration kicked in, forcing him to maintain his spellcasting stance.

His mind cleared instantly as he intoned the key incantation smoothly: “Grease!”

The spell’s shimmering light spread across the path ahead.

The blue-eyed ranger, riding full speed, did not notice the three-by-three-meter patch of slick grease that now coated the ground before his horse. Intent on crushing Zhao Xu beneath his hooves, he pressed forward.

But as the mount’s hooves touched the slick patch, it lost balance abruptly and slipped sideways, much like a person dancing clumsily on ice without proper footwear.

The chainmail-clad ranger was thrown from his horse as well, tumbling twice before hitting the ground.

Zhao Xu, having fallen first and possessing a strong constitution, recovered faster. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he struggled to his feet.

Yet he did not cast another offensive spell. Instead, he reached into his backpack and summoned the Ain Stone into the air.

By now, Zhao Xu was fully aware of the burden this Ain Stone, worth 36,000 gold pieces, represented.

Carrying it around was impractical; as a level-two adventurer, he was not yet worthy of such a treasure.

Waiting to activate it only in emergencies was unreliable—he often lacked the time. It was far more convenient to have a ritual-enhanced necklace.

Resolving to discuss this with Antinoya upon his return, Zhao Xu watched as the Ain Stone hovered above him, channeling its power and boosting his caster level by one.

He glanced coldly at the ranger, who was still kneeling and struggling to rise, and cast the level-one spell “Shield.”

He knew these six seconds were precious; however, a single level-one spell could hardly take down a high-talent, high-level player like this ranger.

While other players might have to sacrifice Constitution points due to limited talent, Zhao Xu’s magic missile or light crossbow attacks were not enough to dispatch a D8 hit-dice ranger with 8 to 12 hit points in one shot.

Thus, he chose “Shield,” which provided a +4 shield bonus to defense.

In recent days, Zhao Xu had devoted his free time to studying spells, placing him among the most advanced novice mages.

Once, Roya had provided Maple with a tower shield—true to its name, it was nearly as tall as a person and granted close to a +4 defense bonus.

“Shield” created a fully concealed force field of tower-shield size, hovering before the caster.

Combined, these two spells elevated Zhao Xu’s defenses to the 18th tier, rendering him nearly impervious to ordinary attacks.

When the ranger finally mustered the strength to stand, he eyed Zhao Xu with a mix of contempt and confidence.

He had recognized Zhao Xu’s use of “Mage Armor” and the “Grease” spell that had felled his mount.

Zhao Xu now had only cantrips left.

“Prepare to die!” the ranger roared, releasing the bowstring with a sharp twang.

The arrow flew straight toward Zhao Xu.

Without the horse’s jolting, both Zhao Xu’s casting and the ranger’s archery were easier.

Yet the arrow broke with a dull snap half a meter before reaching Zhao Xu, as if it had collided with an unseen hard barrier, before falling broken to the ground.

The ranger’s face twisted in disbelief.

“How is this possible? How can you still cast Shield?”

“Who are you? You are definitely no ordinary player.”

It was understood on the forums that a level-one mage with 18 Intelligence could only wield two level-one spells.

At this, Zhao Xu realized the ranger was also a player.

Indeed, only players chasing players would be so relentless and willing to risk their lives alone.

“Ask the Creation Sanctuary yourself,” Zhao Xu replied with a smile, raising his light crossbow toward the ranger.

As a dual-class elite—both mage and cleric—Zhao Xu’s level-two mage plus Intelligence granted him three level-one spells. Cleric levels and domain spells offered another three, and the versatile spellcaster feat allowed conversion of cantrips to level-one slots, adding three more.

In total, Zhao Xu wielded nine level-one spell slots—four to five times that of a typical level-one mage.

“Heh, although you have Shield and Mage Armor, I know these shields last only a minute. Give me one minute and I’ll kill you,” the ranger said, drawing a curved blade from his waist, eyeing Zhao Xu like prey.

Prepared to follow him wherever he fled, the ranger was ready to maintain relentless pursuit.

“Foolish,” Zhao Xu said, releasing the trigger on his crossbow.

In that instant, magical power surged through him like a deity’s blessing, granting uncanny insight into all things.

The ranger raised a small round shield and dodged sideways.

Facing a mage not skilled in offense, he was confident his opponent could not hit him.

Yet the bolt, like a shadow, traced the tightest angle and struck the ranger’s heart.

[Adventurer Midsummer launches a ranged attack, benefiting from “Assail Advantage,” successfully hitting and dealing 1d8=8 damage. The target falls unconscious, near death.]

Unfortunately, after firing, the light crossbow required reloading and lacked the flair of a pistol’s smoke and flash.

By the time the ranger readied another arrow, Zhao Xu had already cast the spell “Assail Advantage.”

This spell granted him greater than 20th-tier insight for his next attack.

In this empowered state, even a casual strike from Zhao Xu carried the weight of a seasoned level-20 warrior.

Since most defenses relied on armor, “Assail Advantage” allowed mages like Zhao Xu to dominate, striking true at will.

This marked the first time spellcasting intervened directly in physical attacks.

If level-one mages had unlimited level-one spell slots, they could become sharpshooters capable of guaranteed hits every other round.

Watching the ranger remain unconscious, Zhao Xu showed no mercy and sent him back to the Creation Sanctuary.

Due to the players’ projections, death was not permanent—like summoned creatures fading away, their demise was temporary.

Thus, Zhao Xu’s alignment remained relatively intact, especially considering the ranger had come at him with deadly intent.

Yet Zhao Xu’s spirits were low. Looking toward the distant plume of smoke, he knew his timely appearance would brand him as part of the raiding group.

If he dared show himself again, a combined assault would crush him without explanation.

---

Over the next two days, Zhao Xu reluctantly adopted a strategy of lying low by day and moving at night.

During this time, he was relentlessly hunted by a rampaging bear, leaving him exhausted by dawn.

At last, after two days, he neared Northern Carda City.

Northern Carda, poised between Cassor and Butan, was a powder keg—he dared not approach carelessly.

Though Zhao Xu had not invested in survival skills and could not forage, Earth adventurers did not need to eat.

He roamed the forest edge like a wild man, without great worry for sustenance.

After extinguishing a campfire in a cave, he prepared to move on.

The sudden rainstorms had not ceased, and though his magic could dry his clothes, it drained his reserves.

This time, he gathered some firewood in a pouch, planning to light a fire if caught in heavy rain before continuing.

As he neared the cave’s mouth, the sky remained dark and heavy, threatening a greater downpour.

Zhao Xu hesitated—should he wait or press forward?

Thinking of Northern Carda so close and the prospect of returning to the floating city to learn what made the legendary archivist so formidable, his heart leapt with joy. His steps quickened as he stepped out.

But the moment he emerged, his expression turned ice-cold.

The hallmark towering ancient trees of the Southern Islet Forest were gone.

Instead, Zhao Xu faced the core force of the Northern Sky Trade Alliance—over two hundred heavily armored cavalry stood proudly, weapons gleaming.

No one had expected such a cavalry force to encircle the cave entrance silently.

But what gripped Zhao Xu’s heart was the sight of his companions—captured and bound.

The entire caravan, including over fifty led by Roya, knelt before him in chains, their faces drained of spirit.

Roya and several others were even more pitiful, suspended from wooden frames, battered and barely clinging to life.

Despite the overwhelming odds, Zhao Xu’s pride as a spellcaster kept him composed.

Before him stood a young man in luxurious silk garments—the clear leader of this force—flanked by robed mages of moderate rank, enough to keep Zhao Xu on guard.

Zhao Xu knew their intentions were hostile, but since they had not attacked outright, negotiation remained possible.

He produced from his backpack the certification issued by the Crescent Moon Mage Association.

Suddenly, thunder rumbled, heralding the delayed but inevitable heavy rainstorm.

“Midsummer, allow me to introduce myself,” the youth said arrogantly. “I am Tark, the ninth elder of the Northern Sky Trade Alliance, soon to be appointed.”

No wonder he was so proud—the other elders were at least a generation older.

“What can I do for you?” Zhao Xu asked, ready to present his blue-sealed credentials, but paused upon hearing Tark’s next words.

“I’ve heard from your companions that you obtained an item from a wizard in that mine,” Tark said with a sneer.

Zhao Xu’s heart sank.

He had not concealed the fact that Mage Lian had given him a tome; he could not be sure no one had seen the exchange.

The forcefield prison was transparent; he had simply disguised the book as a spell journal to hide its secret contents.

“Heh, no need to be nervous,” Tark laughed, seeing Zhao Xu’s reaction. “Roya, your leader, is impressive—he endured countless tortures without revealing what happened in the mine.

“But your companion, the wanderer Locke, lacked such resolve and spilled everything. So, here’s my proposal: hand over that little book, and I’ll release your people—but the goods will be forfeit as your price of good faith.”

“Do you think I’m merciful enough?” Tark grinned, showing his teeth with satisfaction.

“Dream on,” Zhao Xu replied with a smile.