Mages Are Too OP
142 Entrapmen
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Mages Are Too OP
Author :Soaring Flames
© Webnovel

142 Entrapmen

The statue of Roland, which stood outside the capital, was located on the shore of a lake.

The statue, made entirely of silvery-white sand, was protected by game rules—it was unbreakable and immovable.

The statue was about three meters tall and depicted a young man wearing an ordinary magic robe, with arms akimbo, looking up at the sky at a 45-degree angle, giving off the vibe of an artistic young man.

What's more, there was a large, ridiculously shaped "gold" basin, like a broken bowl, at the sand sculpture's feet.

It was actually a copper basin, and since it hadn't oxidized yet, the copper was golden in color.

Roland felt the malice of the game's production team deeply after reading it.

A sand sculpture, a big broken bowl for begging, one in the gold color symbolic of the nouveau riche.

This was too much of a spoof.

As for whether this was… insulting? Roland did have his own opinion on this.

The game development team created this sand sculpture, and all mage players who wanted to learn the passive mana regeneration skill had to come before this sculpture and throw money into it.

A conservative estimate was that Roland would receive at least 10 or 20 million yuan, and if one were to assume boldly, over a hundred million was possible.

In other words, the game development team had directly sent tens or even over a hundred million yuan directly to Roland, so what was wrong with getting a spoofed sand sculpture?

Moreover, Roland felt that the development team had some deep thoughts in doing so.

Receiving tens of millions of yuan for finding a bug, and that money would come from the players—regarded as a flock of sheep. Even if the majority of people were sensible, as long as a small number of people were envious and felt that Roland took advantage of them for his own gain, they would assemble online and deliberately lead the discussion with their posts, such as saying that Roland had a PY trading[1] relationship with the gaming company, or that he was the game development team's relative or acquaintance, using these kinds of methods to rake in money from players.

This would cause a commotion easily.

Although most people wouldn't believe it, as long as a small number of people believed it, it would be a troublesome thing for Roland.

It would also have an impact on the game company to a certain extent.

Roland reckoned that the game producers helped to design the sculpture in this way to get a laugh from most of the players who paid to learn this specialty, imperceptibly lowering their ill feelings toward Roland.

Of course, this was just Roland's personal speculation.

Shaking his head helplessly, Roland knew that the title of idiot was definitely bound to him in the future, so he felt a little dejected.

After everyone finished browsing the forum posts, they began to eat hotpot.

"The culinary arts in this world are abysmal. Most things taste terrible, even the big meal we had yesterday at the mayor's place wasn't very tasty." Hawk, whose food consumption had become much greater now that he was extremely bulky, said as he ate fiercely, "It's better if we make it ourselves."

Roland put a piece of meat on his plate and sighed. "Most people can't even get enough to eat, so why would they study how to make it taste good?"

"I do think it's a matter of racial talent." Link ate in a cultured manner, chewing slowly and occasionally holding his hand over his mouth when he ate and spoke. "For example, even if 'the empire on which the sun never sets'[2] has been rich for so many years, they haven't been seen to make their food very tasty."

The other three burst out laughing at the same time. In the real world, there were a few things that everyone had no problem mocking and were recognized as a source of joy.

For example, the culinary skills of the empire on which the sun never sets.

The gentlemen of Fusang[3] on buses and trains, and so on.

Delicacies were easily finished. Everyone had soon eaten everything in the pot, leaving a little soup base.

While picking at his teeth, Hawk asked, "Roland, what do you think they'll do to us?"

"If we gather together, they will definitely respond cautiously. But here's the problem." Roland pointed to the city wall in the distance, and because of the torches on it, the towering wall looked abnormally tall and majestic in the night. "This dock of ours is built on this city, after all, and if they don't fight us head-on, they'll block our right to enter and leave the city. By then, do you think it's necessary for this dock to continue to exist?"

Hawk nodded. "That's what I find worrying too. Even if after a few days, when our guild comes, they won't let us enter the city—any travelers who disembark from our docks will not be given entry, and we'll have built this dock for nothing."

On the side, Jett said matter-of-factly, "Can't we just fight our way in? Just the mayor of a city, with slightly more soldiers, we can resurrect and kill them—their loss is permanent."

"But the problem is that we don't have a just cause," Roland said simply. "This quest system thing is very metaphysical, and according to my personal intuition, it will always issue quests that are more inclined toward the good alignment. Even if a few dozen professionals from the Silver Wings came over and sieged this city, wouldn't that make them no different from robbers? Do you think the system will issue a quest called 'Remove Fallen Gamers' or something like that?"

Jett winced at that.

He was a player himself and knew very well the terrifying kind of motivation that wouldn't fail until a quest was completed once it had been issued and received.

Even if Silver Wings was powerful, could they wrestle with hundreds of thousands of players?

It would be a wonder if the entire guild didn't get hunted down to level zero.

Hawk was a little upset. "Are we just going to have to defend passively?"

"Not necessarily, we can try entrapment!" Roland smiled.

Hawk's eyes lit up. "Oh, Brother Kong Ming, how do you plan on strategizing?"

Meanwhile, in the castle, John Senior and John Junior sat facing each other, and beside them stood a number of young military officers.

The fire in the fireplace blazed brightly, illuminating everyone's faces.

Amidst the occasional crackling sounds, John Senior said, "Now the Golden Sons have finished their assembly early, and they have also dug many long trenches two or three meters wide and deep near the docks, one after the other, such that there are ten, forming a semi-circular entrenchment that protects their docks—the warhorses will never be able to rush through. Moreover, they have also placed wooden planks on the trenches, so regular people can walk around freely, but our warhorses definitely can't. The load while carrying men is too heavy, it will collapse once they get on."

A few young officers showed disgust. "This kind of tactic is only for cowards; those Golden Sons have no chivalry at all. War should be fought upright. How incompetent are they for using this method to restrict our cavalry?"

The crowd all looked depressed.

They actually knew very well in their hearts that they could only say this in front of their own people, and if it really got out, it would be a wonder if the other nobles and lords didn't laugh to death.

If John Senior's battle tactics were truly upright, he would have emphasized heavy cavalry and would not have given crossbows to the cavalry.

It was nothing more than trying to take advantage of the mobility of the light cavalry to curb the deaths and injuries. This kind of fighting style was clearly one of the cowardly tactics they were talking about.

Especially John Senior: he thought that the light cavalry under his command was invincible, but the other side dug a few trenches and fatally limited his strongest fighting force.

After a moment of silence, John Senior said, "I've fought and led for more than twenty years, and I've seen trenches before, but they were only used to keep out mages from intense fireball bombardment. Usually, there would only be one horizontal line that our cavalry can pass over in one jump. But the trenches made by these Golden Sons are ten in a row, and even the best horseman can't spur a horse to jump ten trenches in a row. And the distance between the trenches is too short. It's clear from this aspect that they know how to deal with cavalry."

"I, however, think they didn't realize that this was the way to deal with cavalry. Perhaps they were just thinking of digging more trenches, and in the event of a battle, they could burrow into the earth and escape like rats."

The young officer laughed after he said this, but no one echoed him, and he quickly shut his mouth in embarrassment.

"The fact that the other side didn't use cheval de frise, but this more prudent method, shows that they have at least learned how to conduct a war." John Senior thought about it and said, "This could be Roland's ploy—he's a mage, erudite, so it's not surprising that he has some military knowledge."

The others nodded in agreement.

Even in a hostile relationship, they would acknowledge the erudition and mysteriousness of spellcasters.

But in reality… this decision was made by Hawk, who was the second-in-command of the guild, often taking over the command of large-scale PKs in games, and had also taught himself the art of command and military tactics and formation theories over time.

Digging multiple long vertical trenches against cavalry was as basic as it could be.

"Do you have any methods to force them out of the docks?" John Senior looked at the others expectantly. "Otherwise, we'll have to fight a drawn-out war with them. While a long war would be good for us too, it would have a great effect on our reputation, and outsiders would say that we can't even defeat a few hundred beggars and four professionals."

Everyone shook their heads.

They couldn't think of the right method at the moment.

There were four professionals on the other side: a mage, a priest, and two warriors.

Two were Elites, and the other two warriors were close to Elites.

Moreover, the other side had the geographical advantage, and in that situation, even if the infantry were to charge forward regardless of their lives, they probably still wouldn't be able to make it through.

Instead, the soldiers would just die in large numbers.

After all, the infantry in Delpon really wasn't very good.

Everyone sighed long and deeply.

At this moment, a scout trotted in and said, "Mayor, there's movement on the target. According to our observations, they seem to have gotten into an argument, and the two spellcasters left the dock on a small boat, heading downstream."

John Senior's eyes lit up. "Really?"

This scout nodded vigorously. "We can guarantee this one hundred percent."

"An argument is beneficial." John Senior stood up. "Send a message for our navy to come down from upriver at once and go and sink those two men into the river."

John Junior said somewhat worriedly, "Father, I'm afraid this is a ploy."

John Senior waved his hand. "It doesn't matter even if it is a ploy. As long as they separate, whether it's a ploy or not, it's a wrong move. Separating the troops means dispersing the battle force. Immediately have the infantry and archers leave the city and surround them."

John Junior felt something was wrong, but couldn't find a suitable reason to contradict his father, so he let it go.

The other officers ran excitedly out of the study to carry out John Senior's orders.

Then John Senior turned his head and said, "Son, help me with my armor!"

[1] Meme; PY is the first letters for the words anus/friend in Chinese, essentially a dirty/scandalous trade, or simply a trade between friends

[2] Describes the Spanish Empire and British Empire

[3] An Old Chinese name for Japan; gentlemen, in this case, refers euphemistically to perverts

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