The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

The Durlag Union.

Under the dim, overcast sky, Kaleno stood empty-handed with twin swords strapped to his back, his vacant gaze fixed on the distance.

Beside him stood Graham, leaning on his cane. He was impeccably dressed in a black formal suit, the double row of metal buttons glinting faintly with silvery light.

Behind them stood two young scholars, their hair neatly combed, though fatigue lingered on their faces.

Farther back, ten fully armed guards stood in formation. Clad in leather armor and carrying muskets and ammunition, they looked every bit an elite unit—if not for the youthful faces that still betrayed their inexperience.

”They’re here!”

Kaleno looked up at the six-winged figure descending from the sky, a smile spreading across his face.

In just a few minutes, the figure closed the distance, landing with a gust of wind that made everyone instinctively squint.

”Anser.”

”President...”

Answering with a nod, Anser took out the Rod of Security and gave it a wave. Salian and Finn appeared beside him at the same time.

”You two...” Kaleno exclaimed in surprise.

”We’re coming with you.” Salian stepped forward and gave his shoulder a firm pat.

”There’s no need. It’s too chaotic over there...”

”Haha, you’ve only met a handful of people...”

Salian had spent decades sailing the seas, operating around Baldur’s Gate and Paros, and had even visited Dawn Town along the River Chionthar. He not only knew the area well but also had plenty of old friends there.

When it came to finding people, he was far more capable than an inexperienced youngster like Kaleno.

Dawn Town wasn’t exactly peaceful. Fish-men and Underdark creatures frequently appeared in the surrounding area, making it the perfect place for the three of them to hunt together while establishing a foothold, searching for people, and gaining experience all at once.

Back in Durlag, Iris and Stoll remained in charge, while Graham and the other councilors handled the administration. Even the President’s assistant duties had been assigned to two young scholars, so nothing would be disrupted.

Anser had invested a tremendous amount of gold recruiting talent, training key personnel, building a proper chain of succession, and steadily pushing the government toward standardized administrative procedures.

The last thing he wanted was for everything to grind to a halt because a single official fell ill or left—or for one councilor’s impulsive whim to trigger a disastrous chain of events.

As long as officials followed established regulations and focused on execution and oversight, the system would guarantee a minimum standard. Even in the worst-case scenario, things wouldn’t fall apart.

”Thank you.” Kaleno was visibly moved, and much of the anxiety weighing on him finally eased.

As a moon elf, he was actually quite a bit older than Anser. But he’d spent most of his life under his elder sister’s protection, and after disaster struck, he’d simply followed Captain Salian and Anser around. He had never truly stood on his own, so he lacked both experience and confidence.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable. Personal growth simply took time.

”If you’re all leaving, what about Bratt?” Kaleno asked in confusion.

”He made his own choice.” Salian didn’t elaborate, but everyone understood.

Between being an adventurer and an administrator, Bratt had chosen to stay in Holrewen. It wasn’t because he coveted authority. He simply knew Anser already had plenty of capable fighters by his side, so he wanted to help keep the rear secure.

”Let’s go. It’s getting late,” Anser urged.

Kaleno, Salian, Finn, and the ten guards immediately gathered around him.

After giving Graham a few final instructions, Anser gripped the Arcanefire Longbow and cast Teleport.

With his current strength, transporting nearly twenty people at once posed no difficulty.

The world spun around them. Their vision blurred for a moment, and when it cleared, they found themselves standing at a busy street intersection crowded with pedestrians.

”A lot has changed.” Salian rested a hand on the shortsword at his waist, his eyes filled with caution.

”Follow me.”

Anser beckoned them onward, leading them through winding streets until they arrived at Tyr’s temple.

Rand had already taken his people west, but Zahir was still here. With him watching over them, Salian’s group would have nothing to worry about.

They had both money and resources. As long as they recruited freely, it wouldn’t take long to assemble a team and establish a firm foothold.

After giving them a few final reminders, Anser departed without delay.

A flash of teleportation light faded, revealing the ancient stone structure of Otto Mage Tower.

The tower was unusually quiet in the early morning. Glancing at the duty wizard, who was completely absorbed in an adventure novel, Anser strolled to one side of the hall and picked up the latest—and thickest—newspaper from the stack.

[Viheral Dungeon Reappears! Magic Research Society Crushes Thayan Lich, Seizes Vecna Artifacts!]

The corner of Anser’s mouth twitched. He hadn’t expected the Magic Research Society to handle the situation so bluntly.

He read the article carefully. The account of the battle was largely consistent with what he had described, but as the protagonist, Anser’s alias, ”Drizzt,” was mentioned only in passing. Instead, the report focused on the whereabouts of the two Artifacts:

Now secured in the Society’s secret vault.

It was practically a public declaration to Thay:

The items you’re after are with us. If you want them, come and take them.

On the surface, the incident had escalated, but all the attention and hostility had been redirected toward the Magic Research Society, leaving Anser under far less pressure.

He flipped back to the front page. The newspaper was called the Thousand Spells Daily, a general-interest publication distributed throughout the entire demiplane. Even ordinary citizens could buy a copy if they were interested.

The name came from the city that housed the headquarters of the Magic Research Society, known as the City of a Thousand Spells.

Besides the Thousand Spells Daily, the city published several other newspapers and journals. One of the more famous was The Truth Debater, which circulated exclusively among magic academies and mage towers and focused on advanced arcane theory and spell research.

As one of the Magic Research Society’s longtime rivals, Thay undoubtedly had spies planted here.

For all he knew, today’s issue of the Thousand Spells Daily was already sitting on the desks of the Red Wizards.

’The Magic Research Society... They’re even more decisive than I expected.’

Of course, it might also have something to do with the two Artifacts and the Legendary item. The stakes were simply too high—everyone wanted a piece of the pie.

Society members were still human. The very top echelon consisted of peak-level adventurers, such as the various Tower Masters and the Executive President. With enough effort, they might one day obtain a Legendary item, but an Artifact was something they could only dream of.

Anser grabbed several newspapers, opened the Party Storage, and pinned them to the bulletin board.

Looking at the remaining newspapers and journals, he decided to take one of every publication. Iris and the others could use them as reading material, and it would broaden their horizons.

’The Union needs its own newspaper too!’

He resolved to establish one as soon as the unrest on the Rock of Bral had settled. Public opinion was a form of power in its own right.

Footsteps echoed through the hall.

Anser turned and saw Mason striding toward him, an awkward smile spread across his mismatched features.

”You’re here pretty early. Everyone’s upstairs. Come with me.”

”Sure.”

The two made their way to the Tower Master’s reception room, which was already packed despite its spacious interior.

As soon as Tower Master Quide saw Anser enter, he immediately introduced him to the others.

The Magic Research Society had assembled a sizable wizard corps this time, numbering over twenty members. Among them were nine high-ranking spellcasters or above, representing seven different mage towers.

Otto Mage Tower’s representative was Mason; Jiandar was not participating.

The remaining dozen or so were combat specialists. Even the weakest among them was an elite warrior, while the strongest was an 18th-level Barbarian.

Without even counting the unknown number of constructs accompanying them, this lineup alone was terrifyingly powerful—far beyond what an ordinary organization could ever hope to assemble.

And this was merely a temporary wizard corps put together from a handful of the Magic Research Society’s mage towers.

Leading the group was Nefis, a human female wizard from Aeglin Mage Tower. She looked to be only in her thirties, with delicate skin, while her entire right hand was encased in gleaming silver metal.

If not for the exposed skin at her fingertips, Anser would have assumed it was a metallic prosthetic.

After giving everyone a few final instructions, Quide slipped a handwritten booklet into Anser’s hands before ordering the group to depart.

Nefis led everyone downstairs, where they used the mage tower’s Teleportation Circle to travel directly to the Rock of Bral.

Light and shadow swirled around them, and the next instant they found themselves in a dimly lit basement.

The shadows by the doorway twisted, revealing a small, wiry figure.

”Anser, hurry! They’re already fighting outside.”

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

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