The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

Early in the morning, bright sunlight passed through the glass and filled the room.

Anser sat up, glanced around the warmly furnished large room, then lay back down again.

’Was that a dream? A bit strange.’

Ever since he became a professional, he had basically stopped dreaming, and his sleep quality had only grown better and better.

He rolled out of bed. Everything in the room was as usual, and there was nothing unusual about his body. On the contrary, he felt energetic, his Magic Power abundant, his condition excellent.

’Did I miss women?’

He curled his lips, thinking he must have been under too much pressure lately.

’I wonder how the people of Amn are doing—did they sleep well?’

At the thought, he felt a little impatient. Letting out a strange chuckle, he immediately dressed, washed up, and went out.

A servant was waiting outside the door. Upon seeing him come out, the servant bowed and led him straight to the dining hall.

Breakfast had long been prepared, but he was the only one there; no one else was present.

The old steward said Iris had gone out early in the morning. If nothing unexpected had happened, she should have gone into the city.

Anser enjoyed breakfast alone, with the old steward and the servant attending at his side, giving him the illusion that he was the master of the castle.

’No wonder everyone wants to be a noble. This feels pretty good.’

After finishing his meal, he flew up to the city wall and set up a telescope to observe the Amnian camp.

But it was completely empty. All the tents were gone, not a single figure remained—only a mess left behind everywhere.

’Looks like they left in a hurry.’

The Amnians must have sensed that something was wrong, yet not known where the root of the problem lay. Out of caution, they had temporarily withdrawn.

That withdrawal happened to suit Anser’s intentions perfectly.

South of Durlag lay an important city—Nashkel. Adjacent to the Cloud Peaks, it was a crucial gateway into the Kingdom of Amn.

It likewise belonged to Amn and held extremely high strategic value, serving as a forward stronghold for Amn’s northern expansion.

If those cursed treasures were to enter Nashkel and even begin circulating, it would likely trigger panic and chaos on a much larger scale, leaving Amn too preoccupied to deal with anything else.

The treasury curse was not fatal, but it was tormenting.

Anser was in an excellent mood. The Emerald Kingdom was troublesome enough; Amn would not settle down either—so it was just right to give them something to keep busy with.

’I’ll make sure to slap another hat of ”traitor to humanity” on them.’ He decided to help Amn publicize things properly.

At that moment, a black dot rapidly approached from afar. Only upon drawing closer did he see that it was a flying carpet, with a figure seated upon it, a purple cloak fluttering loudly in the wind.

The flying carpet abruptly changed direction, shot straight toward Anser, then came to a stop hovering in front of him.

Worry lingered in Iris’s eyes as she looked at Anser for a long time without speaking.

”What’s wrong?” Anser felt a little creeped out by the way she was staring at him.

”Baldur’s Gate… has fallen,” Iris said softly, as if afraid of startling him.

Anser’s brow furrowed. ”The Upper City, or everything?”

”Other than Rivington on the South Bank, all the other districts have fallen into the hands of the underdark creatures. They say… the three dukes have died.” Iris lifted a hand to smooth the hair that the wind had messed up, but her gaze never left Anser.

”What a pity.” Anser let out a breath.

Everyone he cared about was in Rivington—Rand, Zahir, Soladin…

Baldur’s Gate falling had been within expectations, too. After all, none of this was some accident; it had been planned long ago.

”Is there really no one in Baldur’s Gate you care about?” Iris felt Anser’s reaction was abnormal.

Anser looked into the distance, his expression calm. ”My parents, my mentor, and my classmates are all dead. For the rest of my life, I’ll have only magic for company. What is there to mourn?”

Iris fell silent, suddenly feeling she never should have asked.

Anser had no idea what she was thinking. Just now, he had merely spoken offhand from the original owner’s perspective and hadn’t paid it much mind.

”When did the people of Amn leave?”

Iris came back to herself and replied, ”I asked. They withdrew as soon as it got light.”

”Do you think they’ll come again?”

”No!” Iris said with absolute certainty. She pointed her wand toward the direction of Claw Bay. ”Someone spotted traces of a green dragon along the Bluewater City–Candlekeep line, and a large number of wyvern guards as well.”

”Abeir’s Emerald Kingdom may be launching its revenge. Candlekeep, Beregost, and Nashkel will be the first to take the hit.”

”Amn can’t even look after itself—it doesn’t have time to come provoke us.”

Nashkel was indeed to the south-southwest of Durlag, but it lay along the Coast Way. With convenient transport, it was more likely to be attacked.

By comparison, the Wood of Sharp Teeth blocked the west side of Durlag, making it relatively safer.

”Sounds not bad.” Anser gave a soft chuckle. After running around for so long, he had finally moved away from the war front.

Constant fighting really was exhilarating, and leveling was fast, but it kept his nerves tight. Hiding in the rear to rest for a while was not bad either—he could also take a look at Amn’s strength along the way.

Amn picked fights with this one and that one every day, acting like it was unstoppable. The fertile land of the Emerald Plains was right there in front of them—he wanted to see whether they had the ability to take it.

”I’ve posted a commission with The Watch to search for resurrection items. If you have any channels, ask around as well.” A trace of urgency showed between Iris’s brows. ”And one more thing—go out less if there’s nothing important.”

”Amn won’t mobilize on a large scale, but they’ll very likely send elites to assassinate you.”

”Mm, I know.” Anser considered himself fairly cautious all along.

After reminding him, Iris went to the dining hall for breakfast.

Anser, however, seemed to deliberately do the opposite of her advice. He flew out of the castle in a conspicuous manner and skimmed low all the way into the town.

He did it on purpose—he wanted the people of Durlag to know he had come from Fort Jacqueline, so as to gain a certain degree of trust and make recruitment easier.

Every town had organizations similar to intermediaries, and many guilds also served this function, helping recruit manpower, procure supplies, and so on, saving a great deal of time.

As he walked and asked around, Anser found the Stonemasons’ Guild.

The guild felt somewhat like the talent markets of his previous life. It did not consist only of craftsmen; any manpower needed for urban construction could be found here, and many of them were farmers who had lost their land.

As for why he did not go directly to those farmers—because they had land to cultivate and would not easily take risks.

Only those with no way out might be willing to believe an outsider like Anser.

The Stonemasons’ Guild building was not large, but it was distinctive, as if it fused various architectural styles together. Even the murals, sculptures, and railings used for decoration each displayed a different flourish—both a show of skill and a calling card.

The moment Anser stepped through the main doors, a halfling came up to greet him.

”An honored guest at our door—how may I assist you?” The halfling wore a tailored little formal suit, and when he spoke, his handlebar mustache trembled wildly, making him look somewhat comical.

”I’m recruiting. There’s a large stretch of land in my territory lying uncultivated—absolutely safe, forty percent tax.” Anser did not waste words and stated his purpose directly.

A forty percent tax was by no means high. In most places, agricultural taxes exceeded fifty percent, and there were all sorts of miscellaneous levies besides. Many farmers worked all year and still could not even set aside seeds for the following spring.

”May I ask where your territory is located?” the halfling asked cautiously.

”Holrewen. It’s far away—once you go, it’s hard to come back.” Anser did not hide it, in case some people could not accept it. ”I can guarantee their safety. Ask if anyone is willing.”

”Holrewen…” the halfling murmured, his eyes blank with confusion.

”Anser?!” A voice suddenly rang out from outside the door.

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