The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

Anser crouched by the side of the boat, speaking to Salian in a low voice.

”I’ll wait for you at the mouth of the waterway…” Salian grasped his hand.

”Don’t wait for us. It’s too dangerous. Once you get out, take a large ship across to the opposite bank. Don’t linger—go to Beregost,” Anser quietly urged.

Beregost lay southeast of the Claw Bay, east of Candlekeep, deep inland and relatively safer.

”Stay alive.” As if sensing something, Salian reached out and hugged him, then lifted the oar and forcefully pushed the small boat away from the riverbank.

Anser watched them disappear into the dim waterway, his gaze complicated.

With the situation unclear, they could not determine their course of action after getting out. Waiting rashly might bring danger to both sides. It was better to leave this dangerous area quickly while it was still relatively safe.

In that case, it would likely be difficult for both sides to meet again in the short term.

After a long while, Anser gestured and led Giant Tail and the others back toward the castle.

Sandray followed silently behind, saying nothing.

The entrance to the waterway was in the castle basement. After coming out, the group did not linger in the castle but instead ascended the stone steps to the front city wall.

Sir Casanova and his personal guards were all there.

”They’re back again,” Tim said, pointing into the night ahead. ”There may be someone important this time.”

”Mm.” Anser looked down over the front.

The kobolds had returned, creeping closer timidly. Their glowing eyes flickered in and out of view, densely packed—it was indeed a shocking sight.

He looked up at the sky and did not detect any movement from a wyvern, which eased his mind slightly.

A wyvern was faster than Nornoth and posed a great threat to him. Whether he could defeat it was another matter; not being able to escape would be the real trouble.

”Conserve your spell slots. Let us handle the front line first,” Tim instructed softly, keeping his tone as gentle as possible, afraid the young man might not listen.

”Mm.” Anser smiled faintly and said nothing more.

He silently estimated the distance. From the city wall to the opposite end of the bridge was about sixty or seventy meters, and his Fireball had a range exceeding ninety meters—easily enough to cover it.

There were many kobolds, at least several thousand. They were divided into several groups, straining to drag a few chains. Yet the closer they approached the bridgehead, the more hesitant they became.

”You fools, get up there…” (Draconic)

A hoarse Draconic voice came from the darkness, followed by the screams of kobolds.

The effect was immediate. The kobolds’ movements became much swifter as they lowered their heads and charged forward.

Tim waved his hand. ”Fire arrows!”

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—

More than a dozen oil-soaked flaming arrows scattered across the opposite side of the ravine. They burned on the ground for a long time, illuminating thin figures one after another.

Among them stood one figure far taller than the rest, like a crane among chickens. Clad in metal armor and wielding twin blades, it had a ferocious dragon’s head and a thick dragon tail reflecting a green sheen.

”A Dragonborn?” Tim asked doubtfully.

”No. This is a half-dragon,” Anser said with certainty.

The physical differences between a Dragonborn and a half-dragon are enormous. A half-dragon resembles a true dragon in every respect—its build is streamlined and powerfully imposing—whereas a Dragonborn has no dragon claws and no thick dragon tail, like an inferior imitation.

In fact, that is exactly what it is. Dragonborn are merely slaves of true dragons, of low status, while half-dragons are commanders created through a magical ritual in which a true dragon expends ”dragon essence.”

There are not many half-dragons; their Challenge Rating starts at 5, and the damage of their breath weapon is the same as Fireball.

Exposed in the firelight, the half-dragon cast a cold glance toward the city wall, then quickly withdrew back into the darkness—cautious to a degree that did not seem like a half-dragon.

Half-dragons vary in temperament, but they are generally greedy, arrogant, and obsessive.

Anser cursed inwardly at the bad luck. The distance was too great, and the die could not detect the target’s information.

’He was there just now too.’

While Fireball intimidated the enemy, it also made them highly wary; they did not dare enter his range lightly.

The half-dragon could retreat, but the kobolds could not. Dragging iron chains and logs that were even thicker than before, they launched another attack.

”That’s a ship’s anchor!” Tim said in a low voice. ”Free fire. Don’t let them build a bridge.”

Those were only anchor chains from small boats, but they were far thicker than ordinary chains, and even Fireball could not melt them.

On the city wall, dozens of guards each held a bow; arrows fell like rain, and from time to time they tossed down a bottle of alchemical fire.

In fact, lamp oil would work as well, but the distance was too great. Even a professional’s throwing axe range was only thirty or forty meters; it was extremely difficult to throw jar after jar of lamp oil that far.

The kobolds’ strength really was not enough. Dragging the heavy anchor chains, they moved with difficulty, and the effect was even worse than before.

It was a perfect opportunity to harvest experience points. Just as Anser was about to cast a spell, a dull whooshing sound suddenly came through the air.

Wooo—

Two metal anchor heads, trailing chains, burst out of the darkness—one after the other—slicing across the air. They flew over the ravine and, with two heavy thuds, smashed into the earth and stone.

In the next instant, the chains snapped taut. The anchor claws bit firmly into the rocky foundation, forming two parallel cableways less than a meter apart across the ravine.

Taking advantage of the moment, elite kobolds flung thinner iron chains from the side. Dozens of chains shot out, tangling around or hooking onto the cableways in a chaotic weave, actually forming a crude iron chain bridge dozens of centimeters wide.

In just a few seconds, the situation changed dramatically.

The kobolds were merely a feint—the half-dragons in the darkness were the real main force!

’Smart. And their coordination is good,’ Anser praised inwardly. ’By the look of it, at least two half-dragons have arrived.’

In truth, half-dragons possess tremendous jumping ability and could easily leap across this ravine of less than twenty meters. But they were cautious, determined to let the kobolds wage a war of attrition, never risking themselves.

”Shall I send men to destroy the rope bridge?” Tim looked at Anser, his eyes asking.

”I’ll snipe them. You prepare and fill any gaps,” Anser said with a smile.

The kobolds had no particular skill except one specialty of overwhelming the few with the many: slings. They could strike far and accurately, and the power was not weak.

If the guards tried to destroy the rope bridge under a rain of sling stones, who knew how many would die.

Magic Power surged around Anser as he focused and cast.

”વાદળધુમ્મસ”

Fog Cloud!

Silently, mist rose over the ravine.

Thick fog descended, swallowing the opposite bridgehead and more than half of the rope bridge. Everything became hazy, and even the night seemed to grow deeper.

The kobolds climbing the rope bridge froze. Dense fog filled their vision; even the chains within arm’s reach were unclear. The ravine and their companions behind them vanished from sight. Frightened, they did not dare continue climbing.

’Good.’

Anser was very satisfied. Fog Cloud had a diameter of nearly seventeen or eighteen meters. Since it was cast at night, the effect was excellent—even he could not clearly distinguish the boundary of the thick mist.

Tim was stunned for a moment. The expected Fireball did not appear; instead, dense fog spread.

”This… we can’t see either. What if they grope their way across in the dark?”

Anser did not answer but raised his hand and pointed downward.

”જાદુઈવિસ્ફોટ”

Sorcery Burst—Lightning!

A mass of blue light cut across the night sky. The instant it touched the rope bridge, it exploded. Lightning spread out, extending along the chains into the fog.

The chains shook violently, clattering loudly. Amid a burst of panicked cries, more than a dozen dark figures tumbled out of the mist and fell into the deep ravine.

Moments later, lines of experience point notifications flashed through Anser’s mind. A bit few, but easy.

”Brilliant. A spellcaster really is clever,” Tim exclaimed, suddenly sitting upright, his eyes smiling. ”Wood fears fire, chains conduct lightning—let’s see what they do now.”

The guards were also excited. In truth, they did not understand the reason and only believed it to be a spell’s effect.

There is no electricity in Faerûn; here, metal conducting electricity is not common knowledge. The vast majority of people do not know it.

”How long can your spell last?” Tim restrained his smile and asked the key question.

”As long as needed,” Anser replied calmly.

In fact, Darkness would have worked even better. But Darkness is a 2nd-level spell and can only last a little over ten minutes. Its Magic Power consumption is relatively high and unsuitable for a prolonged battle.

Fog Cloud is only a 1st-level spell. Each casting lasts more than an hour. With his Magic Power reserves, maintaining it for an entire day would be effortless.

At this moment, the exposed section of the rope bridge began to sway again. Clearly, the kobolds had not given up.

Anser deliberately waited a moment. Only after the first kobold had crawled more than halfway across the rope bridge and poked its head out of the mist did he cast.

Boom—

After the flash of lightning, several more kobolds fell into the ravine.

The rope bridge was crude to begin with. The front half had some thin iron chains wrapped around it, but the latter half could only be traversed by gripping the main chain and inching forward. Even without interference, it swayed violently—let alone when one could see nothing and was being shocked.

It was only because kobolds are small and relatively nimble. If it had been an ordinary person, even with assistance, they might not have been able to cross this nearly twenty-meter suspended iron chain.

Suddenly, a strange gust of wind sounded.

The mist churned and was blown apart by a green cone-shaped storm, dispersing more than half of it.

Concentration broken—the Fog Cloud was dispelled!

A half-dragon stood at the bridgehead, staring coldly at Anser, green eyes filled with malice.

”Heh…” Anser had anticipated this. He raised his hand and cast another Fog Cloud.

A half-dragon generally has only five or six uses of its breath weapon, as precious as Fireball, whereas his Fog Cloud cost only a single point of Magic Power.

Thus, the standoff continued.

As long as kobolds climbed the chain, he unleashed lightning. After all, the cantrip’s consumption was extremely low.

If Fog Cloud was dispelled, he simply replaced it.

If winged kobolds launched a surprise attack, the guard unit handled it.

Tim was very cautious. While the enemy was stalled, he swiftly sent men to dig up the foundation at the bridgehead and dismantle the rope bridge.

The half-dragon, furious and exasperated, attempted to build another bridge, but there was nowhere to secure it. The massive logs brought over were also burned. For the moment, it had no solution.

Several times it nearly leaped across to fight, but at the critical moment it held back.

There was no helping it—the afterimage of that Fireball still echoed in its memory, growing more vivid each time it recalled it.

Anser felt some regret. On their side there were three elite professionals—four including Giant Tail. If the half-dragon dared to cross alone, it would not return easily.

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