The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

”The Emerald Kingdom shouldn’t be familiar with Faerûn’s situation,” Anser said, deep in thought.

”What if some humans defected to them?” Iris speculated. ”Maybe it has nothing to do with the legends of Viheral. They might be trying to capture and tame wyverns.”

”That’s also possible.” Anser stroked his chin as he considered it.

There were indeed quite a few wyverns in the Wood of Sharp Teeth. It wouldn’t be strange for the Emerald Kingdom to tame them to replenish their guard forces.

Iris held the Teleportation Cube. ”Securing White Stone Island is more important for now.”

Her thinking aligned with Anser’s—they intended to turn White Stone Island into a rear base, allowing them to advance or retreat at will.

”I’ll head back to Durlag’s Tower immediately.”

”Then I’ll gather the guards here and wait for you.”

The two disembarked at the same time. As he did, Anser casually stuffed the demonic statue from the shrine into the now-empty Avaricious Dragonhide Pouch. He hadn’t yet decided how to deal with it—perhaps selling it to Traveler’s Respite wouldn’t be a bad idea.

As for why he didn’t destroy it?

Because destroying a divine statue constituted a serious act of provocation and blasphemy. If a deity had ever manifested through that statue, there was a high chance it could sense its destruction—and the identity of the one who desecrated it.

Such an act could easily invite hostility, or even pursuit.

A balor wasn’t a god, but it still wasn’t something to take lightly.

After that, Anser attempted to teleport the ship into Holrewen. It was somewhat strenuous, but he ultimately succeeded.

The Rod of Security had a limit to its teleportation capacity. If the dragonfly vessel were any larger or heavier, it likely wouldn’t fit—unless it was dismantled and transported in parts.

”I’m off.”

He waved to Iris, summoned Nornoth, and headed straight for Durlag’s Tower.

Nornoth hadn’t been close to Anser for quite some time, and it ran with unusual excitement, galloping freely.

Anser gave its horned head a reassuring pat. The touch was cold—and it seemed to have grown slightly.

He pulled up Nornoth’s character sheet: 2133/2700 experience. Not far from leveling up.

Thinking about it, the man and his mount hadn’t fought side by side in quite a while.

Anser’s feats and abilities were already enough to support aerial spellcasting. His Fly spell didn’t require concentration either, so he had long grown accustomed to fighting in the air.

Still, Nornoth remained useful—there were plenty of situations suited for mounted combat.

Before long, the pair arrived at Durlag’s Tower. Nornoth slowed to a light trot along the streets.

Most of the citizens recognized him. They made way instinctively, and only after he passed did they sneak glances at him.

Aside from the upper ranks of the Council, no one knew he had been missing for several days.

At the Council headquarters, Quentin was observing the Defense Force’s first training session together with several councilors.

The former Durlag guard had been split into two units: the Watch and the Defense Force. The Watch, just over a hundred strong and led by Marshal Pardo, was responsible for maintaining order, resolving disputes, and handling various criminal cases.

The Defense Force numbered over three hundred fifty, under the command of Giant Tail. About a third were newly recruited—carefully selected for their physical condition—and more than a dozen were classed adventurers.

Although Giant Tail had once been a lizardfolk chieftain, this was still a human society, and most of the soldiers were human. So the training followed conventional methods: physical conditioning, unit coordination, and individual combat skills.

As soon as Anser arrived at the headquarters, Quentin, Kaleno, and the others received word and hurried out to greet him.

Seeing him safe and sound, the heavy weight pressing on everyone’s hearts finally lifted.

The former chairman had just died—if the new one were to meet with misfortune as well, the entire Durlag Council might collapse.

”Chairman, you’re finally back.” Quentin’s tense expression eased slightly. He could handle tasks, but without the chairman, there were many things he simply couldn’t carry alone.

”I just went out for a bit. Even if I’m not here, I trust you can manage Durlag well,” Anser said, not elaborating further to avoid making them overthink.

”Durlag can’t do without you,” Quentin replied. He knew it hadn’t been a simple trip, but he didn’t press the matter.

Once they had steadied themselves, they began reporting the events of the past few days. Aside from the disturbances in the Wood of Sharp Teeth and the wyvern guard matter, everything else was minor.

The people of Amn didn’t come again, and no trace of the Mind Flayers or Intellect Devourers was found. Overall, things could be considered calm.

”Isn’t that all pretty good?” Anser chuckled.

”This is the calm before the chaos. I haven’t slept well these past couple of days,” Kaleno complained helplessly.

”It’s fine. I’ll head over later and take a look—kill a few wyverns and hang them on the city walls,” Anser said with a smile. ”For now, gather me a hundred soldiers. I’ve acquired an island—we need to guard against pirates.”

Everyone froze for a moment, not quite understanding.

”An island?” Kaleno instinctively thought of Holrewen, but that was an extraplanar space—where would pirates come from?

”White Stone Island, in the Sea of Fallen Stars. It’s far from here. I’ll use a Teleportation Circle to bring people over,” Anser explained. ”Councilor Graham, I need to establish a complete administrative system there as well. Start selecting officials and personnel today.”

”Oh… right.” Graham paused before reacting. The amount of information packed into those few sentences was overwhelming—he was still trying to process it all.

”Is the Defense Force training?” At that moment, Anser faintly heard Giant Tail shouting at someone in less-than-fluent Common.

”Yes,” Quentin replied immediately.

”Let’s go take a look.”

The group headed to the training ground, where the soldiers were practicing the most basic formations.

The requirement for this training was simple: recognize your squad leader and teammates, be able to find your unit, form ranks, and advance or retreat in formation. It didn’t need to be perfectly orderly—just don’t get separated.

It sounded simple, but every time there was a break or someone went to the latrine, there were always people who couldn’t find their unit. Some couldn’t tell left from right or east from west, and some had trouble recognizing faces.

Anser felt rather helpless. Most of these soldiers were illiterate, which made training quite difficult.

Still, he didn’t expect too much. Step by step—so long as they could patrol, guard the city, and put on a show of force, it was enough. After all, once they put on leather armor and picked up weapons, they looked like proper soldiers—no one could tell how well they were actually trained.

He immediately called a halt to the training and had Giant Tail assemble the most elite hundred soldiers, fully equipped but without carrying supplies.

Giant Tail and Quentin would go with him—one to command the troops, the other to handle administration—and bring White Stone Island under control as quickly as possible.

Kaleno and the other councilors would be responsible for recruitment. The Defense Force would recruit another five hundred soldiers, and officials and all kinds of talent would be welcomed without restriction, with generous compensation. With tens of thousands of refugees in Durlag, there was no shortage of manpower.

Coincidentally, he wasn’t short on money either. These hundreds of thousands of gold coins wouldn’t earn interest just sitting there—better to throw money around and rapidly expand his power.

In an age of disaster, it was hard to buy legendary equipment—but ”buying” people was incredibly easy.

After making these arrangements, he informed Quentin of the situation over there, then directly cast Teleportation Circle on the training ground, opening a portal leading to White Stone Island.

Giant Tail and Quentin led the soldiers through at speed, but only about half had crossed before the portal dissipated.

A spell wasn’t the same as a permanent Teleportation Circle—the portal could only remain open for a very short time. Even with Anser’s ability, he could only maintain it for a little over ten seconds.

He had anticipated this. After waiting ten minutes, he cast Teleportation Circle again.

Wizard Moen indeed appeared on the other side of the portal. While the soldiers passed through, the two quickly exchanged a few words. After confirming that the pirates hadn’t returned, Anser finally relaxed.

He didn’t go over himself, instead remaining at the Council headquarters.

It was still early, so he immediately sent people to contact the Flamerule Mercenary Company and the bearded barbarian working under the noble Tyron Sarberg of the Claw city-state.

Taking advantage of the time, he drafted several magical contracts, leaving the amount and compensation sections blank.

He was about to start throwing money around.

An ordinary worker could earn dozens of gold coins a year. A low-level classed individual could earn a few hundred annually. Elite classed individuals started at a thousand gold coins per year.

As long as he was willing to spend, he could recruit as many sub-elite classed individuals as he wanted. Spending a few thousand gold coins to hire an elite was an absolute bargain.

With people came power—and with power, others would think twice before provoking him.

Unless it was a legendary being, anyone facing a force with numerous classed individuals would feel at least some degree of caution.

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