The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

’This section is for books written in Common as spoken across Toril... over here are biographies, and those shelves are for plays. This entire room is devoted to literature.’

After making a full circuit of the library room, Anser stepped back outside. Sure enough, mounted on the wall beside the door was a wooden plaque listing that room’s classification.

He returned to the main hall and peeked over the registration desk. An elderly man with graying hair was hunched over a book, completely absorbed in his reading, with his wand carelessly tossed aside.

”Hello. I’d like to look up some reference materials.”

He removed his identification badge and placed it on the white countertop.

The old man looked up, though his eyes seemed reluctant to leave the page. Several seconds passed before he finally focused on Anser, his expression puzzled.

”Hm? The Society accepted a new member?”

A moment later, realization dawned on him.

”You’re Drizzt?”

”You know me?”

”No. The Society hasn’t recruited anyone new in years, and I know everyone else.”

”Oh...”

Once again, Anser realized just how rare membership in the Magic Research Society really was.

The library’s security looked lax on the surface, but without an identification badge, getting inside was impossible. Not even apprentices or family members of Society members were allowed in.

”You’re a Sorcerer, aren’t you?” the old man asked with an odd look.

The rivalry between Sorcerers and Wizards ran deep. The Magic Research Society, which prided itself as the premier organization of arcane spellcasters, had never accepted a Sorcerer as a member.

”They’re both arcane magic. Close enough.”

”Confident, aren’t you? Are you a Chosen?”

”Of course not.”

Anser waved dismissively, ignoring the man’s scrutinizing gaze.

”I’m looking for the rune sequences of publicly accessible Teleportation Circles in different regions.”

The old man stopped staring at him and lowered his head back to his book.

”Fourth floor. Library Room Eight, magical reference section. Pay attention to the labels on the bookshelves.”

”Don’t damage the books. If you want to borrow anything, bring it here to register.”

”Thank you.”

Anser gave a slight bow before heading toward the staircase in the corner.

As he climbed, a thought crossed his mind.

If I wanted to live as a shut-in Wizard, staying with the Magic Research Society might actually be a pretty good choice.

...Though a bunch of Wizards gathered in one place would probably be insanely competitive too.

He quickly found Library Room Eight. Following the indexes posted at the entrance and on the shelves, he located an entire row of books containing rune sequences. They were neatly organized by region and chronology, making everything easy to navigate.

He pulled out a volume titled Forgotten Realms - Compendium of Permanent Teleportation Hubs Across the Sword Coast (17th Edition).

It contained detailed records of Teleportation Circles throughout the Sword Coast, including the cities they were located in, their exact positions, the scale of each circle, whether they were open to the public, and the rules governing their use.

Most of them, however, were private circles that weren’t publicly accessible. Some entries were so old that there was no guarantee the circles were even functional anymore.

Outside the Sword Coast, there were even fewer Teleportation Circles. Altogether, they filled only three volumes, and most had long since fallen into disuse after centuries of abandonment.

”Maeve, time to get to work.”

He summoned his spellbook and handed the copying job over to her.

Calling it copying was almost an exaggeration. Thanks to the Wizardly Quill, the task was hardly difficult.

Maeve shot him an annoyed glare but didn’t refuse. She opened the book and began transcribing.

Meanwhile, Anser continued wandering through the other library rooms. Whenever he came across something interesting, he quietly made a mental note to copy it later.

After all, his Black Tower was still practically empty.

Even if he planned to found a magic academy someday, it wouldn’t amount to much without books.

The first three floors contained general knowledge—languages, literature, history, art, military studies, and similar subjects.

The fourth through sixth floors focused on magic-related knowledge. There were noticeably fewer books, and most were sealed behind protective enchantments. Visitors could only browse their catalogs. Borrowing them required spending Academic Points.

Anser had well over a hundred thousand Academic Points, so he could read virtually anything he wanted. Only a handful of books protected by intellectual property restrictions required signing confidentiality agreements before they could be borrowed, forbidding their contents from being shared freely.

He couldn’t access the seventh floor or above. The only thing he could do there was browse the catalogs and introductions in the seventh-floor hall before redeeming materials with Academic Contributions.

He only had 14,000 Academic Contributions. That number wouldn’t increase no matter how many people purchased his spell models. The only way to earn more was by continuously contributing new knowledge to the Magic Research Society.

That amount was only enough to exchange for a single forbidden golem-crafting technique: the Flesh Golem—a humanoid body stitched together through the abuse of magic or grotesque technology, dangerous and notoriously difficult to control.

Anser had no interest in that. His goal was a Stone Golem, or even a Steel Golem.

By the time he returned to the first-floor hall, Maeve had already finished copying everything and was floating beside the registration desk, waiting for him.

The elderly man stood across the stone counter, studying her with obvious curiosity. Every now and then he tried striking up a conversation, but Maeve completely ignored him, her eyes half-closed and her expression as cold and aloof as ever.

The moment he saw Anser return, the old man immediately asked if there was anything else he needed help with. His attitude was noticeably warmer than before.

Anser politely declined, then hurried back to Otto’s Wizard Tower with Maeve.

The tower was far livelier than the quiet library. Even non-members could study there under the guidance of mentors.

Neither Mason nor Jiandar was around, but their students and the Wizards on duty were. Anser handed each of them a copy of the intelligence report on Rock of Bral.

Still worried they might not take it seriously enough, he visited three nearby Wizard Towers as well, delivering the same information to the Wizards on duty.

His strategy was simple: cast a wide net. The important thing was spreading the news. As for what actions they chose to take afterward, that was beyond his control.

Standing outside the Wizard Tower, he suddenly remembered that he also had the right to recommend one magic apprentice for admission to the academy.

With the Adventuring Party system, he didn’t need to worry about the candidate’s aptitude. As long as they were trustworthy, that was enough.

Having one of his own people stationed inside the Magic Research Society would make many things much more convenient. It would also let him keep track of the Society’s movements as soon as they happened.

This demiplane was far larger than an ordinary city.

I wonder if Kafka would be interested.

He decided to talk to him after returning.

With his mentor’s fate still unknown, Kafka was still young. Staying with the Holrewen family would be little different from wasting his potential. The Magic Research Society would be the perfect place for him.

But first, I need to get back to Durlag as quickly as possible.

After teleporting out, he flew toward Durlag at full speed.

...

At the same time, an unrestricted bounty worth 500,000 gold pieces swept through the major Adventurers’ Guilds like a storm.

Every capable guild maintained its own communication network. The most common methods were flying messengers and Message Stones capable of long-distance communication, allowing valuable intelligence and missions to be shared rapidly among branch guilds.

As a result, news of the bounty spread across Faerûn at an unimaginable speed. Even ordinary civilians enthusiastically discussed it, as though it had something to do with them.

It couldn’t be helped.

Half a million gold pieces was simply too tempting. A bounty of that magnitude hadn’t appeared in many years.

Even many long-established great noble houses couldn’t produce that much money.

The sum wasn’t insignificant even for the Magic Research Society. The reason they didn’t mind was simple: they had already passed the cost of purchasing spell models onto their members, earning far more than they spent.

No one questioned the bounty’s authenticity, because it had been jointly issued by the Final Hope Cathedral and the Durlag Union.

That’s right.

It was a massive bounty personally endorsed by three Paladins, with the actual sponsor naturally being the unseen Anser.

Iris and Stoll personally carried a chest of gold to the Adventurers’ Guild. They didn’t deposit the full amount upfront because the reward was simply too enormous, and they feared someone might embezzle it.

Anyone could accept the bounty, but actually claiming it was another matter entirely.

An adventurer first had to find a way to reach Rock of Bral, personally participate in killing Bane’s Chosen, then claim the reward by presenting his corpse or severed head. Alternatively, testimony from a highly respected witness confirming the kill would also suffice.

Anser was both the one who posted the bounty and one of its participants. Trying to steal his target from him would be extremely difficult.

And if some true powerhouse really did show up?

He wouldn’t go back on his word.

Trading money for experience points was a bargain he had no reason to refuse.