The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

”Just call me Anser.” Anser twitched the corner of his mouth; hearing that title made him cringe to death.

”There aren’t many who can make the Nashivaar Family suffer a silent loss, haha…” Quentin laughed heartily; it seemed he had some old grudges with Amn.

Most of the others had never heard Anser’s name, but hearing Quentin say this, their eyes immediately filled with appreciation.

Anser was speechless. So everyone had some sort of conflict with Amn, huh. Stoll really was a clever little fox—this method of preventing Amn from buying people off was simple and crude.

He focused his mind on Quentin:

[Quentin, Human, Level 7 Ranger (Hunter)]

Aside from him, the other four council members were also professionals; even the weakest among them was Level 4.

’Not bad.’

However, compared with those major cities, the upper-tier strength here was indeed lacking, relying entirely on Stoll and Iris to hold the front.

In Baldur’s Gate and Blue Water City, ordinary elite professionals can only serve as captains or mid-to-upper management; it is difficult for them to enter the core leadership—such as Ragna, or the Flaming Fist’s Level 8 Barbarian.

Only by becoming a high-level professional could one ignore the constraints of origin and background and break through class barriers.

Quentin sized Anser up with a smile. ”How did you discover that Intellect Devourer?”

”It possessed a friend of mine. His name is Matthew, from Silver Scale Bay. I sensed something was wrong and took a look with Truesight…” Anser explained.

”Silver Scale Bay?” Quentin’s expression darkened. ”Could it be that the Baldur’s Gate incident is being orchestrated by Mind Flayers? What are they trying to do?”

”Mind Flayers are all conspirators. Aside from eating brains, they want to rule everything,” Iris said coldly. ”This matter must be kept strictly confidential, but screening work cannot be delayed. I’ve already ordered the city gates sealed.”

”Everyone, speak freely and discuss a response plan.”

”The Intellect Devourers likely possessed people during the refugees’ flight from Baldur’s Gate or Silver Scale Bay, intending to use the adventurers’ movements to infiltrate major cities. Durlag is quite far from there; there shouldn’t be many who slipped in.”

”We might as well inspect adventurers who recently entered the city under the pretext of searching for enemy spies. In the future, we can organize a dedicated team to handle this matter,” Quentin proposed.

”But aren’t Intellect Devourers hidden inside the brain? We can’t tell them apart.” A young man spread his hands, his eyes full of dejection.

”Yeah…”

After discussing for quite some time, no one came up with a good solution.

At present, only Anser could see through an Intellect Devourer’s possession—but he was not one of their own. Who would dare casually order around an elite spellcaster?

Anser, of course, wasn’t going to go looking for trouble—what people fear most is taking on a responsibility that isn’t theirs.

”Let’s deal with this Intellect Devourer first,” Iris decided.

”Fine. I’ll gather the guards immediately.” Quentin rose to his feet.

Iris and Quentin assigned tasks, and everyone went to their posts.

Anser went out alone, teleported Finn and Grey Eagle out of Holrewen, and handed the search task to them.

Grey Eagle had seen Matthew before. It was intelligent, had sharp eyes, and would make the search more convenient—while also being less likely to alert the other side.

Quentin’s guards had only just finished assembling when Grey Eagle had already found the target.

Matthew and those adventurers were wandering around the city. Since they had just arrived, they were probably trying to learn the situation here and figure out how to make a living.

Anser mounted Nornoth and, with Giant Tail and Finn, moved in toward the target ahead of the others.

Iris glanced at Grey Eagle in the sky and rode her flying carpet closer. ”Found the target?”

”Found them. West side of the city. They probably haven’t noticed yet.” Anser looked calm on the surface, but inwardly he was a little spooked—unwilling to give up experience points, yet afraid of getting noticed by Mind Flayers.

Mind Flayers, also called illithids, are remnants of a multiversal empire that once destroyed worlds. They are infamous conspirators and manipulators; their desire for dominion is second only to their craving for brains.

They are skilled in psionics and use it to control other creatures. Kuo-toa, Umber Hulks, Duergar, Troglodytes, Gith, and others have once been their servants and slaves.

Mind Flayers often conduct experiments using their victims’ biological mechanisms, creating supernatural servants by implanting Mind Flayer larvae—tadpole-like young—into other living bodies.

These creatures are disgusting, terrifying, insidious, and hidden, with almost no weaknesses. A typical Mind Flayer has a Challenge Rating of 7, an Intelligence pushing 20, and ordinary professionals who run into them usually have no power to resist.

”What are you worried about?” Iris laughed. ”From what I saw, you fight like a beast—didn’t say a word the whole time. I thought you’d kill the Intellect Devourer on the spot.”

”Mind Flayers are terrifying,” Anser stressed with a solemn expression.

Many people only learn of Mind Flayers’ horrors from books or stories. Without living through it firsthand, it always feels like there’s a veil between them, and their sense of urgency is never enough.

”You seem… to know a lot.” Iris’s gaze burned.

”Aren’t the rumors enough?” Anser had Nornoth speed up, to avoid any accidents.

Iris watched his back. Sunlight cast a layer of light and shadow over him, and she always felt she couldn’t see him clearly.

With a flick of her hand, squads of knights and guards followed behind Anser, surging into the main streets.

”Public security patrol—spy sweep…”

”Hands off your weapons. Don’t cause a misunderstanding…”

”…”

The atmosphere on the street immediately became tense. Everyone felt endangered, yet the guards did not approach or offend anyone, and no large-scale panic was triggered.

Anser rode west along East–West Avenue and, from a distance, caught sight of Matthew.

He was hiding within the crowd near the west gate, looking this way with a curious expression. He appeared no different from any other adventurer.

Anser waved at Finn, signaling him to leave, then pointed toward the crowd at the west gate.

Squads of black-armored knights urged their horses forward, rushing past on both sides of him and encircling the crowd completely.

A wave of unrest rippled through the crowd. Many people nervously scanned those around them, their gazes uncertain and suspicious—seeing everyone as a spy, afraid of being implicated.

All eyes unconsciously focused on Anser as he approached at a slow pace. Black horse, black staff, black cloak—he blended perfectly with the knightly order. That unusually large black horse was so distinctive that no one would believe he was not the commander.

Iris hovered high above, carefully observing the subtle expressions of every individual, yet found nothing.

Quentin and the others followed behind Anser with solemn expressions, waiting for him to identify the target.

Step, step, step—the sound of hooves beat like drums, each strike seeming to pound against people’s hearts. The atmosphere was heavy and oppressive.

Anser intended to force the Intellect Devourer to reveal itself, but Matthew’s face was full of surprise, as if he wanted to speak but hesitated—indeed matching a normal reaction.

However, he did not relax. An Intellect Devourer’s Intelligence surpasses that of ordinary people; they can even deceive those who share their pillow. Their capacity for disguise is absurd.

Just as he was about to activate the True Sight Ring, seven or eight men dressed as adventurers suddenly drew their weapons and, with a roar, lunged toward him.

”Brothers, kill—”

”There’s no escape—fight them…”

Anser was startled for a moment, then immediately understood—these were spies and agents from Amn!

Pressing his lips together, he silently rolled his eyes. Arresting spies had only been a pretext; these people were far too impatient.

The spies’ sudden attack simultaneously struck the guards’ and knights’ nerves. The soldiers counterattacked at once, arrows falling like rain.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—

The few charging at the front were immediately shot into hedgehogs.

Giant Tail had been at Anser’s side the entire time. Seeing this, he raised his shield and charged. Lifting his massive hammer, he brought it down with a bang, smashing one ”hedgehog’s” head into his chest. Blood sprayed, drawing a chorus of shocked cries.

Giant Tail always remained in front of Anser. Those men who collided with him were like hitting a wall; they could not break through at all.

With his great cudgel swinging, using his height advantage, Giant Tail struck people as if playing whack-a-mole. The earth-heavy hammer carried a soil-element effect; almost no one could withstand a single blow without falling.

Other warriors closed in, completely cutting off any hope these agents had of escaping.

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