The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

Tonight was a family-style dinner, not a traditional banquet of ”serving separate courses one by one.” The dishes were almost all brought out at once.

The spread was extremely lavish, nearly covering the entire table. It was clear that the castle’s head chef had put in great effort today.

The staple was hand-held pies. The castle chef’s signature dishes were Sembian honey-glazed ribs and Durlag game stew, with meat making up more than half of the meal.

This suited Anser’s taste perfectly. Lately he had especially loved eating meat, and since he had gone hungry all day, he did not stand on ceremony and simply ate to his heart’s content.

However, because it was a plated service, many dishes were placed far from him. Whatever he wanted to eat had to be cut by the attendant and brought over, which made the servant attending him particularly busy.

The elderly woman ate very little, merely watching him eat quietly, her expression growing more and more satisfied.

Seeing how happily he was eating, Iris’s mood inexplicably improved as well, and the worry between her brows faded considerably.

When Anser had nearly finished eating, Iris finally spoke softly, ”Anser, do you have any resurrection-type magic items?”

Anser drank the last mouthful of wine and shook his head slightly. ”No. You want to save Stoll?”

”Yes.” Iris looked somewhat disappointed. Propping her elbow on the table, her slender fingers pressed against her brow. ”He cannot die. Without him, Durlag would have changed hands long ago…”

Durlag was a small free city, also known as the City of Adventurers. Because it lay close to the resource-rich Wood of Sharp Teeth and along a major trade route, it attracted numerous adventurers and guilds.

Fort Jacqueline had been established during that period by Iris’s grandfather.

Durlag had once been extremely chaotic. After Iris’s parents died in an accident, a warrior named Stoll appeared in the town.

Any creature that dared harass or covet Fort Jacqueline was nailed to crosses at the edge of the Wood of Sharp Teeth—without exception.

As Iris’s Sorcerer talent gradually manifested, no one dared provoke Fort Jacqueline anymore.

But Stoll did not leave. Instead, he established a council, jointly governing Durlag with representatives from various sides. There were seven seats in total, one of which belonged to Fort Jacqueline.

Yet barren land attracts no farmers; once cultivated, it invites contention.

Amn set its sights on this small city. After its conspiracy to subvert the council failed, it turned to direct assault. However, they underestimated the resolve and strength of a professional standing at the peak among mortals.

After suffering several heavy losses, Amn stopped pressing the attack. In recent years, there had been little movement.

A few days ago, an adult green dragon flew over the town. No one provoked it. Yet for some unknown reason, yesterday that green dragon suddenly appeared and, like something gone mad, attacked Durlag, killing very, very many people.

Stoll had lived here for more than twenty years. Everyone he was close to was here. How could he possibly let the matter rest? He pursued the green dragon relentlessly, refusing to let it go.

Iris returned from outside and, after learning what had happened, immediately rode her flying carpet to give chase—but it was too late.

”Right now, most magic scrolls have stopped working, and magic items have issues too. Even if we try to buy from the major guilds, I’m afraid there won’t be enough time,” Anser sighed.

”There will be a chance.” Iris pressed her lips together. ”I sealed his body within a special magic circle. As long as we can find an item with an effect that can bring the dead back to life within half a year, then he still has hope of being revived.”

”Half a year…” Anser smacked his lips, and at once felt that this hope really was quite large.

”I haven’t told the council this yet—I’m afraid it would cause panic—but this can’t be kept hidden for long.” Iris leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at the ceiling mural.

Anser did not respond. There was nothing he could do either.

This was clearly premeditated. Amn would stop at nothing—stabbing from behind when there were troubles within and without—truly disgusting.

But their strength was formidable. No matter how unwilling you were, you could only swallow it.

He suddenly thought of his Avaricious Dragonhide Pouch. It was crammed full, yet only two or three magic items inside were decent; the rest were not worth wasting his blood on.

If he did not purify them, he did not dare use them. Throwing them away would only harm others. Not throwing them away took up space.

He might as well dump all of it on the Amn people—scatter the treasury’s curse around. That way he would not have to worry that a dragon might come looking for him someday as a ”thief.”

After all, I don’t have any curse on me, and I don’t have any treasure either, so it definitely wasn’t me who stole it.

”Have the Amn people left?”

”No. They withdrew to about five kilometers south of here. They might come again.” Iris gave him a strange look, not knowing why he was asking.

From her shallow understanding of Anser, he was decent enough, but he was realistic. He was not the sort who would put himself in danger and play at being some savior.

”Mhm.” Anser’s gaze flickered, and he felt he had a bit of a plan in mind. ”By the way, do you know how to handle dragon meat? Do you know any masters who deal with this kind of material?”

This was the City of Adventurers; it should not be lacking in such talent.

”I knew it!” Iris said irritably, her violet eyes staring straight at him.

Anser remained perfectly composed. ”I thought you didn’t care for it. Besides, it isn’t easy to carry. If you want some, I can split a bit with you.”

”Heh.” Iris sat up straight, her expression serious. ”Dragon meat, dragon blood, dragon hide—those are all high-quality materials. Whether it’s refining potions or crafting magic items, they’re very useful.”

”Keeping them in your hands is pointless. Why don’t I find you a buyer?”

”Sure.” Anser agreed without hesitation. If he wanted to invest in building Holrewen, he could not do it without money.

”Have you processed it? It’ll spoil.”

”I processed it.”

”Right—I want to purchase a batch of meat. The quality doesn’t need to be good, but the quantity has to be large. Where can I buy it?” Anser himself was full, but there were still more than three hundred kobolds in Holrewen going hungry.

After not quite understanding, Iris still extended her index finger and pointed toward the lights down below the mountain. ”Durlag isn’t short on meat. Go to the Hunters’ Guild—every day they sell large quantities of unprocessed meat.”

”Alright.” Anser rose to his feet. ”I’ll go take a look. I might be back later.”

”Now?” Iris lifted an eyebrow, feeling more and more that something was off about Anser.

”Are they closed?” Anser asked, puzzled.

”Not really.”

”Then I’m going.”

”I’ll have the steward send you.”

Iris watched Anser’s back disappear through the doorway and stayed silent for a long time.

Beside her, the elderly woman had not said a single word from start to finish and had not joined their conversation. Only after Anser left did she stand, gently pat Iris’s hair, her face full of affection.

”Make your own decision. You don’t need to consider anything else. Many things aren’t your responsibility.”

Iris turned and hugged her grandmother, burying her head against her, muttering, ”What are you talking about?”

Grandma only smiled and said nothing.

...

Anser politely declined the steward’s carriage. After stepping out the main gate, he spread his butterfly wings and flew toward the town below the mountain.

The distance between the two was several kilometers, and he arrived quickly.

Before entering the city, he used a spell to disguise himself as a short, fat human merchant.

The situation in the city was not good. Many houses had been burned or destroyed, and quite a few bodies still had not been collected. Crying and sighing were everywhere. Only a handful of shops were open for business.

’Amn… Amn…’

If a country falls into merchants’ hands, then it’s truly finished. It looks glorious on the surface, but they either harm their own people or harm others—everything is for money.

Anser grumbled a few lines, did not linger, and followed the old steward’s directions to find the Hunters’ Guild in the west of the city.

There were still people on duty here. After he explained his purpose, the person in charge was so happy he could not close his mouth, and he hurriedly dragged Anser to a storeroom embedded halfway underground.

As soon as the door opened, a thick stench of blood and rot drilled straight into his nostrils. Animal carcasses were everywhere—small ones the size of sheep or dogs, large ones bigger than bulls—more than a hundred in total.

Near the entrance, slaughtering tools were piled high. Under the lamplight, more than a dozen butchers were busy carving up the carcasses. Seeing their lifeless expressions, they had clearly been exhausted to the extreme, wielding their knives purely on instinct.

These were all ordinary animals. They were not worth much; anything valuable would definitely be processed first.

In the end, Anser contracted the entire warehouse’s ”game” for the price of two hundred and fifty gold coins.

That price was not low. After all, in hot weather it would not keep.

If he were running a restaurant, he could process it and store it in an ice cellar and really could make several times the profit.

’What a pity. It’s all dog feed.’

He chased everyone out, sent all the corpses into Holrewen, and then quietly slipped away.

Once outside the city, he hid up in a tree and waited in silence.

’Next comes the time to guest-star as the god of wealth. I hope the Amn people will be too happy to sleep…’

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