The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

The stone pillar leaned diagonally against the pit wall. It was about four to five meters in diameter, with an uneven surface that offered plenty of handholds for climbing.

”About a dozen meters,” Anser briefly estimated the distance from where he was to the top of the pillar.

From this angle, he couldn’t see whether anyone was up there, but no matter what, he had to go up. The pillar could collapse at any moment, and he didn’t have much time left.

He took off his torn boots and stepped barefoot onto the protruding rocks. The touch was icy cold, but it didn’t hurt. His draconic physique, combined with the Tough feat, had made him very different from before.

Taking a deep breath, he alternated his limbs as he climbed upward, his movements practiced, nimble, and light, as if he were a veteran climbing expert.

”Hah, this is really exhilarating.”

He lowered his head and looked down at the pitch-black abyss below, his heartbeat unconsciously speeding up.

There was a bit of fear, but it wasn’t a big problem. He knew Feather Fall—if he fell, he could cast it instantly on reflex and make sure he didn’t die from the impact.

What truly surprised him, however, was the set of ”basic actions” granted by his character sheet after becoming a classed character.

Attack, dodge, sprint, withdraw, hide, jump, climb, swim…

In the game, these were nothing more than very unremarkable basic abilities, but now they had turned Anser into a well-trained athletic elite.

Combined with proficiency in the Acrobatics and Athletics skills, they allowed him to reliably push his physical attributes to their limits.

His movements were crisp and efficient, skilled and fluid—something not only ordinary people, but even most classed characters, would find hard to achieve.

After climbing several more meters, the angle of the stone pillar approached vertical, forcing him to circle around it in search of better leverage points.

But just as he rounded one corner of the pillar, the corner of his eye caught sight of another pillar. At its top, a young man was staring at him, dumbfounded.

”Holy shit!”

Anser’s mind went taut. He pressed his body tightly against the stone pillar and looked upward.

No one was looking down; everything seemed normal.

He turned his head to the side. The young man had already withdrawn his gaze, crouching with his knees bent on the ground, his body turned sideways toward Anser. One hand held a sword, while the other subtly pointed diagonally upward.

”Smart.”

Anser gave a slight nod and continued climbing upward, moving even more carefully, stopping every few steps.

That young man used adventurer hand signals to communicate with him from time to time, and in no time they were working together with tacit coordination.

There were two enemies. One of them should be that duergar; his status was unclear.

As he neared the top, Anser grew even more cautious.

The last three meters!

The young man suddenly stood up and threw a stone toward the top of the pillar Anser was on.

[Bang!]

His throw was very accurate. The stone landed on the stone platform with a crisp sound, drawing the enemy’s attention.

”عداوةތެރިން...” (Goblin language)

Footsteps and shrill curses rang out one after another.

Anser understood at once and immediately circled to the other side of the pillar.

The young man was still throwing stones and cursing loudly, sounding a bit hysterical—doesn’t even sound like he was acting.

After pausing for a few seconds, Anser mustered all his strength to climb upward, then sprang into a leap and jumped onto the stone platform.

His gaze swept across quickly. The platform was four to five meters in diameter, with two small figures.

One sat in the middle—short, stocky, solidly built, bald, with grayish-white skin. A warhammer lay at his side.

One was near the edge by the pillar, back to Anser. Under a meter tall, with sharp fangs and pointed ears, gray-green skin, and was swinging a scimitar to intimidate that young man.

The sudden appearance of a figure startled both of them.

The duergar grabbed the warhammer and turned sideways toward Anser, but didn’t stand up. Instead, he shouted loudly.

The goblin shrank back timidly, not charging in right away.

By now, Anser had already activated ”Innate Sorcery.” With his left hand, he clenched the crystal at his chest, focused his mind, and—relying on instinctive sensing and guidance of the surging magic—constructed a simple spell model.

About one second passed.

”जादुઈવિસ્ફોટ” (Draconic)

Accompanied by a clangorous, metallic-strength Draconic utterance, a mass of light and shadow shot from his fingertips, instantly crossing more than two meters of space before detonating with a roar. A piercing peal of thunder slammed into the duergar’s face.

Cantrip: Sorcery Burst—Thunder!

Even though it was his first time casting, facing an immobile target, Anser didn’t miss.

The duergar let out a muffled grunt. His face was covered in blood as he toppled backward, head thrown up.

At the same time, the dice in Anser’s mind spun crazily, and a line of text prompt flashed across his mind in an instant.

[You cast Sorcery Burst on the duergar. The enemy is in the frightened and prone states.

The duergar is hit and takes 15 points of (critical) thunder damage. Current Hit Points: 4/26…]

Anser was overjoyed. He hadn’t expected the dice to have this kind of function.

But now was not the time to investigate that. The duergar wasn’t dead yet, and the opponent had spellcasting ability.

He took a few quick strides to the duergar’s side, planted his left foot on the warhammer, raised his right foot, and stomped down hard on the duergar’s neck.

[You launch a melee attack against the duergar. The enemy is in the prone, frightened, and deafened states.

The duergar is hit and takes 4 points of (critical) bludgeoning damage. Lethal strike. Target killed. You gain 200 experience points…]

The tension in Anser’s chest finally eased. He immediately turned to face the goblin.

In just a few short seconds, the most threatening duergar was dead, leaving only a goblin with terror written all over its face.

”So slow—never heard of thunder?” Anser tightened his grip on the crystal and cast again.

The goblin reacted a beat too late, roaring as it charged forward.

”जादुઈવિस્ફोट”

Thunder detonated with a roar, blasting the goblin off its feet. It sprawled on the ground, wailing as it clutched its bleeding ears.

The distance was too close; even Anser’s own eardrums were buzzing.

He forced himself to endure the discomfort, quickly picked up the warhammer—it was somewhat heavy, forcing him to grip it with both hands—took two quick steps, and brought it down in a crushing blow to the goblin’s head.

[…The goblin is hit and takes 6 points of (critical) piercing damage. Lethal strike. Target killed. You gain 50 experience points…]

Anser scanned his surroundings. Only after confirming there was no danger did he finally let out a breath.

”Hah… really exhilarating!”

In truth, a goblin’s challenge rating was only 1/4, with just 7 Hit Points. Even in melee, it could be dealt with. But this was, after all, his very first real fight—how could he not be nervous?

”This Sorcery Burst is really useful,” Anser said with feeling.

Sorcery Burst was a Sorcerer-exclusive 0-level spell of the Evocation school, with a casting range of 36 meters. On a hit, it dealt 1d8 (1–8) damage, with the damage type chosen by the caster: acid, cold, fire, lightning, poison, psychic, or thunder.

If it dealt maximum damage (8), the spell’s energy would erupt again; at higher levels, it could potentially trigger chain explosions, making its power quite impressive.

Anser recognized the duergar and knew it might have resistances to poison or psychic damage, but most likely not to thunder, so he chose thunder. The practical results were very good.

In fact, the strongest offensive spell he had mastered was the 1st-level spell Chromatic Orb, but casting it required a diamond worth at least 50 gold pieces, which he didn’t have on hand.

Moreover, 1st-level spells were harder to cast. With the Weave in turmoil and his emotions tense, there was a real chance of failure.

”Luckily, a steady performance.”

Looking at the corpses on the ground, he felt a trace of discomfort—especially those two pairs of eyes stained by blood, as if they were staring straight at him.

He lifted his foot and kicked the corpses’ heads to one side, then began gathering the spoils. The time left to him was very limited.