The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

Anser renamed the castle ”White Stone Keep,” matching the island’s name. ”Star Demon” sounded awful and didn’t fit his aesthetic at all.

After a brief discussion with Lin Qiancheng, they arranged for Moen and Lin Qiancheng’s students to remain behind for two days. They could use the supplies freely, as long as they kept proper records.

During that time, the city gates would be closed, and they were to avoid going out as much as possible. If danger arose, they were permitted to evacuate.

Based on the voyage calculations, the Dragonfly Ship would reach Durlag in about two days.

Anser planned to dispatch a group immediately to garrison the island. At that point, they could begin taking control of White Stone Island and establishing a proper military and administrative system.

Lin Qiancheng needed to pilot the magic ship and would leave together with Anser. As for Salian and the others, they would return to Holrewen—there were still matters there that required their presence.

Anser’s decision wasn’t entirely selfless. If the pirates returned and Salian’s group suffered losses, he would definitely regret it.

Territory could always be retaken. The dead, however, were not so easily brought back.

Resurrection-type magic items were both rare and highly sought after. Even a legendary establishment like Traveler’s Rest couldn’t guarantee access—one could only rely on luck.

By the time everything was arranged, it was already noon.

Anser brought Lin Qiancheng, Salian, Bratt, and the others aboard the Dragonfly Ship to familiarize themselves with the vessel in preparation for departure.

As soon as Salian and the others heard they would be returning by magic ship, they had no interest in going back to Holrewen immediately and insisted on tagging along for part of the journey.

Anser understood completely. This was a magic ship, after all—rarer than a spaceship from his previous life. Who wouldn’t want to experience it?

He removed the iron cover from the helm and tossed it aside. No one wanted to pilot a ship while sitting inside a cage—it was an insult to human dignity.

A single casting of Arcane Lock was enough to handle anti-theft measures—elegant and secure.

Lin Qiancheng was very satisfied. He could tell that Anser’s respect wasn’t superficial or performative—it came naturally, a reflection of his character.

Anser walked over to the long table behind the cockpit and flipped through the maps laid out across it—some of Faerûn, others star charts of Realmspace.

”These maps were purchased at great expense by the Star Demon group. They should be fairly accurate,” Lin Qiancheng said with a smile.

He skillfully pulled out a large parchment map, over a meter in both length and width. After smoothing it out, he pointed to White Stone Island with his fingertip, then traced a route directly toward Durlag.

”Taking the high-altitude route?” Anser asked humbly.

”Yes. At least twenty thousand feet,” Lin Qiancheng emphasized. ”At that height, you avoid a lot of trouble.”

Twenty thousand feet meant over six thousand meters—beyond the reach of most flying creatures. The thinner air also reduced resistance.

”I’ll follow your lead,” Anser said readily.

”Why don’t you try piloting first?” Lin Qiancheng gestured toward the helm, which resembled a seat.

”You go ahead. I’ll cover you. When you get tired, I’ll take over,” Anser replied with a smile.

The helm required attunement, and he had no available attunement slots left. He couldn’t even use his newly acquired Ethereal Amulet.

Moreover, the ship could come under attack during flight. The helmsman needed to concentrate fully on piloting, so someone else had to be ready to defend against incoming threats.

”Then we set off?”

”Let’s go.”

Lin Qiancheng stepped forward and sat in the helm seat. A tingling sensation spread through him as his mind synchronized with the vessel. Everything inside and outside the ship was reflected clearly in his consciousness.

With a thought, he closed the open hatch.

”Hold on tight!”

Once he confirmed everyone was seated, he activated the ship.

The Dragonfly Ship gave a light tremor. Its two pairs of wings emitted a low hum as star-blue points of light flickered to life one by one. Magic power flowed around them, surging and oscillating.

The wings adjusted slightly without flapping, yet the surrounding air and magic began to vibrate in subtle pulses. The oscillations grew stronger, blurring into overlapping afterimages.

With a faint, almost inaudible hum, the Dragonfly Ship shot straight up into the sky. Its acceleration was astonishingly fast, its six long legs retracting beneath the hull—just like a dragonfly.

”Wooo—!” Bratt gripped the armrests tightly. The intense push against his back thrilled him, his heart pounding wildly.

The others felt the same. After all, none of them could cast Fly—they had never experienced anything like this before.

Anser smiled knowingly. He stood up and walked to the hemispherical compound eyes made of crystal, gazing down as the island and ocean rapidly receded below. Listening to the rushing wind brought by flight, he felt a faint surge of excitement.

”Traveling by magic ship isn’t exactly comfortable. If you enter outer space, you might even develop something called starspace sickness…” Lin Qiancheng explained softly.

Starspace sickness was essentially space sickness—a syndrome caused by sensory imbalance under conditions of weightlessness, hypergravity, or spatial disorientation.

If one couldn’t adapt, it would be extremely unpleasant.

The Dragonfly Ship quickly climbed to an altitude of six to seven thousand meters, cruising steadily toward Durlag. Below lay the vast Sea of Fallen Stars, while at the horizon, a slightly curved line of the world could be seen.

Outside, the wind howled, but the ship itself remained fairly stable. Its soundproofing was decent, so it didn’t feel particularly noisy.

”Is the consumption high?” Anser was more concerned about the ship’s endurance.

”The primary power source of a magic ship is the omnipresent magic power. The helmsman mainly guides, maintains, and controls it, so the consumption isn’t too high.”

”If we don’t engage in combat, I can probably pilot it for about a day and a half. After that, you’ll take over,” Lin Qiancheng explained carefully.

”That’s not exactly low consumption,” Anser thought to himself, somewhat surprised.

Lin Qiancheng was a high-level spellcaster, yet he could only sustain it for a day and a half—it was clear how demanding it was.

”To pilot a magic ship, you need to at least reach the elite tier. It’s not that ordinary spellcasters can’t do it—it’s just too exhausting. They’d burn out in no time,” Lin Qiancheng said, still a bit shaken at the memory.

Exhaustion was not a pleasant feeling, but back then, he had had no choice.

”I see.” Anser understood. No wonder the Star Demon group had taken the risk to capture high-level mages.

Sure enough, the more advanced the mode of transportation, the higher the requirements for its operator.

The Dragonfly Ship sped steadily through the high sky, occasionally adjusting its course automatically to avoid high-altitude birds. The flight experience was quite good. The only drawback was its speed—it was only slightly faster than Anser’s own Fly.

Seeing no immediate danger, Anser began inspecting the ship.

Aside from the helm, the cockpit also contained maps, storage cabinets, material lockers, and a shrine. Among them, the shrine occupied the largest and best position—it looked even more important than the emergency equipment and navigation logs.

Inside the shrine stood an abstract demon statue. Judging by its appearance, it was likely a balor—possibly the patron of the Star Demon group.

Anser didn’t touch it. He planned to deal with it after arriving at Durlag’s Tower—and replace it with the Platinum Dragon God!

There was nothing much to see in the rest area, but the restroom was rather unique. The ship didn’t store waste—after use, the toilet would eject it directly outside.

A design philosophy of keeping oneself clean while disgusting everyone else.

The cargo hold contained common living supplies—enough for nine people for seven days.

Finally, there was the locked captain’s cabin. Using Knock, he opened it and found a cramped resting space inside.

Just a bed, a table, and a chair.

A stack of books lay casually on the table. Flipping through them at random, he found all kinds of content—spells, alchemy, forging, curiosities, history… all showing clear signs of frequent use.

’Are warlocks this studious too?’ Anser felt a trace of shame. As a wizard, he didn’t have that same level of dedication.

He pulled open a drawer, and a thin blue spellbook came into view.

’A diary?’

He didn’t touch it. The dice spun slightly, and information about the spellbook popped up.

It was actually a spellbook recording the initiation ritual of a Spellscar Sorcerer!

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I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> /TitoVillar

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