Lord God Investigator

"boom--!"

After a muffled sound like a heavy hammer, the head of a drow warlock next to Jarlaxle exploded without warning, and the flying brains splashed all over him.

Jarlaxle couldn't understand. He clearly saw that the warlock had activated the "defense against ranged weapons" shield, and she was also equipped with Stoneskin and Mirror Shadow. It could be said that she was fully prepared, but she was shot in the head in such an instant. And died.

The wizards and warlocks in the team were named one by one, and their heads exploded to death one after another. These powerful spellcasters who control the power of magic and have always been the most respected and arrogant among the mercenaries died so simply and simply.

The mercenary group was blocked in this canyon and suffered heavy casualties under the attack of unknown weapons. Those with less strength had already died, and the rest were strong men with special talents and outstanding abilities.

Drow elves are warlike by nature, and the drow in the Jarlaxle Mercenary Group are all veterans of the battlefield. Although more than half of the casualties have been lost, their morale has not collapsed. They have clearly seen the enemies attacking them. They are a group of enemies with strange weapons. The duergar of "Thunder Rod".

The drow believe that as long as they break through the blockade of this group of cowards who only dare to hide on the cliff and use long-range weapons, and reach them, one or two drow with superb martial arts can kill them all.

Under the leadership of Jarlaxle, the remaining dozen senior drow warriors climbed up the rock wall dexterously. The steep cave wall was like a ladder set up for them. They climbed like a spider climbing a wall, with the help of the rock wall. Using the raised stone edges on the wall as cover, they soon approached the guerrillas' ambush position.

However, a high-level warrior who was leading the way stepped on a round stone plate. As soon as he moved his feet, the stone plate exploded. The explosion broke his legs, and the air wave pushed him off the towering stone wall. Down.

This drow warrior, who was at level 18, screamed and danced his limbs in the air, then fell hard to the ground. In this battle, he didn't even swing his scimitar before his head was smashed.

Jarlaxle's anger surged. He had never fought such a frustrating battle. Powerful mages and warriors with superb martial arts died so mysteriously. They did not fall in front of powerful monsters or compete with adventurers from the surface. In an epic battle, he died at the hands of a group of despicable gray dwarves.

"Worms and maggots, you will pay the price of annihilation!"

He roared and drew out his dagger. This sword has the permanent enchantment of "draining life", which can continuously replenish his physical strength during the battle. Jarlaxle will use this dagger to kill all the gray dwarves one by one. With the support of supplementary vitality, he can do it alone.

Jarlaxle rushed up the rock wall, and the gray dwarves holding the "Thunder Club" were not overwhelmed by his frenzied momentum. A gray dwarf warrior installed a bayonet on the muzzle of his gun, rushed towards him, and attacked him. He turned a blind eye to the sword blade striking his head, and used a standard stabbing motion, aiming the bayonet straight at Jarlaxle's chest.

Jarlaxle grinned ferociously, but he did not withdraw his move, because he was wearing excellent armor, and also had a +3 protection ring and a +3 resistance ring. His defense level was extremely high, and the dagger in his hand could also absorb life, so he was not afraid of taking his life at all. Life-changing play.

The short sword pierced the gray dwarf warrior's shoulder, and there was a stinging pain in his chest. The bayonet did not penetrate the armor, but only slightly opened the mail, and penetrated half an inch. He was about to forcefully lower the short sword. The stab stabbed into the gray dwarf's shoulder and into his heart. There was an explosion in the chest where the knife was struck, and severe pain hit him. He dropped the life-sucking dagger in a daze, covered the wound, staggered back, and lay on his back. He lay down and rolled down the cliff.

The gray dwarf gun that stabbed him was loaded with a bullet, but the bayonet could not penetrate, and his shoulder was severely injured. The gray dwarf pulled the trigger in desperation, and a bullet went in along the mail that had been pierced by the bayonet, and exploded. The gunfire knocked the drow mercenary leader to the ground.

Facing the charging drow warriors, the gray dwarves formed a bayonet formation in groups of three and bravely fought against them. The gray dwarves with bullets in their guns were waiting for an opportunity to attack, and if there was an opportunity to get close to the guns, they would attack. Pull the trigger.

Following Jarlaxle's footsteps, a total of eight drow warriors rushed up. They caused heavy casualties to the gray dwarf guerrillas. Eleven gray dwarves fell to their swords. They were eventually shot several times and covered with wounds. The wound was punctured, the last drop of blood was shed, and he fell to the ground dead.

Two hundred gray dwarves ambushed more than a hundred elite drow mercenaries, and at the cost of eighteen deaths, they completely annihilated the enemies.

This is a feat that has never happened in the tens of thousands of years of history in the Underdark. According to general knowledge, the drow can defeat a gray dwarf army that is ten times their size. After this battle, this "common sense" has been completely overturned. .

After the battle, the gray dwarf guerrillas were not too excited, as if it was natural to achieve such an amazing result.

They silently cleaned the battlefield, stripped off the magic equipment from the dark elf corpses, and threw the corpses into the dug pits for burial. The dwarves did this silently, with only a few dwarves shedding tears silently.

Drizzt did not participate in the battle. He led another reserve team to press the battle not far from the battlefield, and handed over the command to Llanold Bronzehelm without reservation. Bredreau was training him, and he was also training others. .

He learned from that book that the revolutionary cause is not the cause of one or two heroes. This cause requires countless revolutionary warriors to continue, and it can only succeed after gaining broad support from the people.

Arriving next to the gray dwarf who was cleaning the battlefield, the soldiers stopped their work, stood at attention, and saluted him.

After Drizzt returned the greeting, he walked to the corpse of the gray dwarf who died in this battle. The victims had preliminarily arranged their appearance and the corpses were lined up.

The dark elf rangers could not see any fear of death on the faces of the deceased. Their expressions were either peaceful, full of anger, or resolute and forbearing...

This is a group of warriors who know "why they are fighting". Maybe they each have their own reasons. This reason may be that they want their sons and daughters to no longer be slaves, or they want to eat well, wear decent clothes, or they don't want to be slaves anymore. Kneel down at the feet of the dark elves and beg for mercy...

No matter what these reasons were, they all died without regrets. The moment before they died in battle, they knew that their comrades would avenge him and help him realize his dream.

Drizzt brushed the faces of the warriors and helped them close their eyes. The doubts that existed in the hearts of the dark elf rangers about whether they could complete the capture of Menzoberranzan completely dissipated.

He felt that Bredreau was right. The capture of Menzoberranzan was really just a small goal. After achieving this small goal, there would be a more ambitious goal waiting for him.

"So it's you, Drizzt Do'Urden! Are you here for revenge?"

Suddenly, a drow "corpse" groaned and called to him. Drizzt followed the sound and saw that the man climbed up with difficulty, clutching his chest.

Drizzt recognized this man. He was Jarlaxle Baenre. The mercenary leader's chest was a mess of blood and flesh, and the wounds were horrific. His sophisticated magic equipment actually saved his life.

"No." Drizzt shook his head and said, "I'm here to liberate this land."

"Liberation? Ahem!"

Jarlaxle coughed up blood: "What does that mean?"

"In words you can understand, it means that the drow will no longer enslave any race, change the evil system of the weak and the strong that has existed in the Underdark for thousands of years, and establish a new order in which everyone is equal in the Underdark."

Jarlaxle looked at him like he was looking at a madman. He endured the severe pain and laughed wildly: "Ah ha ha! Drizzt, you are cuter than I thought! I really hope to see the new world you have built." Order, but I’m afraid I won’t survive that day.”

"not necessarily."