The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

Durlag—its city gates reopened. It had been less than two days since the citywide lockdown was lifted.

News of the battle had already spread throughout the city. People discussed it enthusiastically; even ordinary civilians knew bits and pieces.

First came the aerial bombardment of boulders and fire oil, and then the appearance of the legendary elemental creatures, which shattered the Amnian forces into a complete rout.

No one had expected such an outcome. Everyone had thought it would be a tense and hard-fought siege, yet the beginning was already the end—the numerically superior side of Amn had proven so utterly incapable.

Durlag bordered Amn; no one understood Amn’s strength better than its people. Many refused to believe it at first, only accepting the result after repeated confirmations.

In truth, very few knew the actual details. People only knew that the Amnian army collapsed at the first touch, suffering heavy casualties—and all of this had transformed into awe and reverence toward the new president, Anser.

The prestige of the Union also rose along with it. The guard garrison was packed with citizens coming to enlist—being a guard in Durlag had never been easier.

At Fort Jacqueline, those arcane turrets had all been moved into the castle and placed in one corner of the square.

Anser inwardly lamented. At the time, he had only been focused on eliminating the enemy. The earth elementals had struck too ruthlessly, leaving these turrets heavily damaged—now they were unusable.

”Can you repair them?” he asked, looking at Iris.

Iris shook her head slightly. ”I’ve never studied engineering or machinery. But the castle library has books on the subject—if you want to learn, you could study them.”

”I’ll pick up a few to study when I have time.” Anser wasn’t joking—he truly planned to do it.

With his memory and comprehension, learning would definitely be twice as effective with half the effort. If he accumulated knowledge bit by bit every day, he didn’t need mastery—just understanding these magical constructs would be enough.

He patted the thick cannon barrel and sighed. ”I used to underestimate artificers. Just a war-oriented arcane artillery specialist can be this powerful.”

A level-three arcane artillery specialist could already produce this kind of self-propelled cannon—its power, range, and mobility were all formidable. Used for sieges, it was practically unstoppable.

Among artificers were also alchemists who could refine experimental potions, battlefield engineers who built steel guardians, and armor specialists equipped with arcane exosuits—they were essentially scientists among spellcasters.

If artificers devoted themselves entirely to warfare, the scale of destruction they could cause would depend entirely on their moral compass.

”This group won’t be large,” Iris said, raising a brow and tapping her temple. ”This profession is somewhat like a Wizard—it requires not only brains, but also a complete elite education.”

”That makes sense.” Anser suddenly understood.

He had fallen into a cognitive blind spot, subconsciously overlooking how few people in Faerûn actually received education.

This wasn’t modern society. Very few people were literate; many couldn’t even handle basic arithmetic within ten. The foundation of education was extremely weak.

No wonder artificer organizations chose to cooperate with Amn. Amn was wealthy, with a developed education system—the talent pool there far surpassed most regions of Faerûn.

As the two spoke, the old butler Harold hurried over and handed Iris a letter.

She opened it, scanned it once, and her expression changed slightly.

A moment later, she looked up at Anser and sighed. ”Last night, Beregost was attacked at night. The Emerald Kingdom deployed large numbers of Kobolds and dragonborn, with wyvern riders supporting them. Both sides suffered casualties, but fortunately, the city wasn’t breached.”

”Any green dragons?”

”No.”

”Any news from Candlekeep?”

”Candlekeep is safe. The Kobolds have blocked the roads, but they haven’t approached or attacked it…”

”I see.” Anser paced back and forth, thoughts rapidly flashing through his mind.

The Amnian army had previously taken on a posture of long-term siege, yet this morning they suddenly launched a hasty attack—it was likely related to the situation at Beregost.

They needed the support of artificers and high-level professionals; the situation there must not be optimistic.

This was also good news for him. If Beregost fell, Nashkel and Durlag would be next in line.

That meant demanding war reparations from Amn might have to be postponed. Asking now would feel like taking advantage of their crisis—like coercion.

The Amnians might be shameless, but he had to care about his reputation.

”Have people keep a close watch on Beregost. If anything happens, we need to be prepared,” he instructed seriously.

”Don’t worry.” Iris smiled brightly, showing no concern at all. ”You’re underestimating Amn. A bunch of primitive tribes can’t possibly be a match for them.”

Amn was one of Faerûn’s top civilized nations, with immense war potential. Dealing with a primitive Emerald Kingdom wouldn’t be difficult.

And given the Amnians’ greed, they might already have their eyes on Abeir’s vast lands. Even dragons were merely high-level prey in their eyes.

The reason Anser had been able to make Amn suffer repeatedly was entirely due to intelligence failures—they kept misjudging the situation. Even when taking him seriously, unexpected variables always appeared.

The two did not dwell on the matter further. With Amn holding the front line, Durlag would likely remain peaceful for some time.

After a simple meal, Anser returned to his room alone, still thinking about his multiclass options.

He brought up his character sheet. The experience pool had increased by over a hundred points—likely from severely wounded soldiers who later died.

He still needed 3,600 experience points to reach level four as a Paladin. His new class would require 5,400 experience points to reach level four.

’Experience is never enough.’

He lay back on the balcony recliner, suddenly missing those werewolves.

There were only three options for his new class: artificer, psion, and Wizard—all Intelligence-based.

Artificer was eliminated first. It was a half-caster class known as masters of invention, capable of enhancing objects with both ingenuity and magic—leaning toward a support role.

Artificers had a powerful feature: they could attune to up to six magic items. The more items attuned, the stronger their saving throws—and they could even resist instant death through magic items.

But Anser already had Brilliant Soul, allowing him to attune to more items, and he also had Death Ward. That feature didn’t appeal to him.

Psion was a rare class, known as masters of mental power. They could not only use psionics, but also weave magic and supernatural effects through the power of the mind.

In other words, psions could also cast spells—but unlike Sorcerers’ innate magic or Wizards’ structured spellcasting, they used mental power to produce magical effects. Their casting method was fundamentally different.

Psions had four main branches: the Transmuter who manipulated life and flesh, the Riftwalker who distorted space, the Telekinetic who specialized in raw psionic power, and the Telepath who excelled in mental control.

Although their subclasses differed, psions’ spell lists leaned heavily toward enchantment, with some illusion and transmutation mixed in.

Anser wasn’t particularly interested in their limited spell list—but he coveted psionics themselves.

Because psionics were not affected by Antimagic Field, and could still function in dead magic zones.

Of course, this only applied to psionic power itself—what people commonly called telekinesis. Psionic spells that produced magical effects would still be suppressed by antimagic fields.

The final option was Wizard—the academic arcane caster, the eternal protagonist of Toril. Aside from some divine magic, they could learn almost every spell.

Wizards were masters of magical theory, understanding spells from their underlying logic. Because everything depended on self-study, their lower bound was low—but their potential was limitless. Their upper bound depended entirely on talent and effort.

Sorcerers’ casting methods had similarities with Wizards’, and it was said that many sorcerers’ ancestors were once powerful Wizards.

Multiclassing into Wizard would fill the theoretical gaps in his spellcasting, improve his casting ability, grant access to a wide variety of powerful spells, and also serve as a foundation for learning scroll scribing, alchemy, enchantment, astrology, and other auxiliary disciplines.

’This is tough…’

He browsed the Wizard subclasses and discovered that beyond the standard eight schools of magic, there were also rare branches such as War Magic, Bladesinging, Blood Magic, Gravity Magic—

—and Time Magic.

’This… Time Magic?’

His heart skipped a beat.

---

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

---