The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

Anser had already learned about the movements of the Claw city-states’ nobles from Quentin, including Tyron Sarberg, who had caused trouble before.

The Claw city-states had always been a loose collection of factions even at their peak; after losing their territories, they completely fell apart. Instead of banding together for survival, they turned on one another.

So much time had passed since the disaster that many nobles had burned through their wealth and were forced to downsize their retinues.

After offending Anser, Tyron Sarberg found himself isolated—no one dared associate with him. Yet he had nowhere else to go.

To the east of Durlag lay vast green plains, full of unknown dangers. The only viable option was heading south to Amn. But everything there required money—Amnian merchants were wolves. If you had money, you’d be targeted; if you didn’t, you’d be exploited.

Recently, these minor nobles had been having a hard time, plagued by internal conflicts.

So when the Association’s invitation arrived, the bearded Adolf didn’t hesitate. Deliberately avoiding the others, he came alone.

Anser hadn’t expected him to arrive so quickly and sent someone to bring him into his office.

Adolf had a thick beard, a rugged appearance, and a tall, sturdy build. He wore no armor and carried a massive axe on his back.

Upon seeing Anser, he recalled their previous conflict. His expression turned slightly awkward, even though the two had never spoken directly at the time.

”Mr. Adolf, please, have a seat,” Anser said with a warm smile.

The die spun slightly and quickly displayed the target’s information:

[Adolf, Human, Level 10 Barbarian (Path of the Beast)]

”Thank you for the invitation, President. May I ask what you need from me?” Adolf put on a polite front, though his stiff wording made it clear he wasn’t used to this kind of conversation.

”Baldur’s Gate has been overrun by Underdark creatures. Claw Bay has fallen. Cormyr’s Purple Dragon Knights are locked in a desperate struggle against orcs. A sinkhole has appeared in Sembia. The Weave is unstable. Calamities are descending—there is no safe place left in all of Faerûn.”

”Survival is no easy task. I have an island in the Sea of Fallen Stars, connected by a Teleportation Circle. I’m short on manpower to defend against pirates…” Anser spoke calmly, laying things out in a measured tone.

Adolf’s expression shifted repeatedly. Much of this information was new to him, but he knew that a renowned paladin like Anser wouldn’t deceive him.

What attracted him most was the overseas island. Pirates didn’t worry him—few powerful adventurers chose that path unless they were fugitives or part of major pirate fleets.

His relationship with Sarberg was purely contractual and could be ended at any time. Staying in Durlag was awkward enough already—leaving would be ideal.

Moreover, serving under a noble paladin sounded respectable and came with no psychological burden.

Seeing his interest, Anser knew only one step remained.

”How much does Sarberg pay you?”

”Seventy gold a week. Uh… he helped me before, many years ago…” Adolf answered instinctively, then realized it didn’t sound quite right and awkwardly tried to patch it up before falling silent.

He had once been the second-in-command of Sarberg City, but under Anser’s gaze, he felt inexplicably tense.

Anser smiled and took out a magical contract, placing it in front of him.

”I’ll pay you one hundred gold per week. Here’s the contract—you can sign it now if you’re willing.”

One hundred per week came to about five thousand two hundred gold a year—an excellent deal for securing the service of a level 10 adventurer.

As far as he knew, the entire Claw city-states couldn’t even gather ten level 10 adventurers. These individuals had the potential to step into high-tier ranks.

In Amn, the base salary for high-tier adventurers started at ten thousand gold per year, along with various benefits—official positions, housing, titles, magic items, and more.

Adolf nearly agreed on the spot, but he wasn’t a rookie. At the critical moment, he held back. He picked up the magical contract and carefully reviewed each clause.

The contract was a standard employment agreement: a five-year term. The employer could terminate it at any time, but the employee could not unilaterally break it, nor could they betray the employer—violations would be punished just like breaking the law.

”President, I still have more than a dozen subordinates. They’ve been with me for many years…”

”Bring them along, but they must follow the rules.”

”No problem. I’ll keep them in line.” Adolf grinned broadly and decisively signed the magical contract.

Anser’s face was full of smiles. Adolf wasn’t affected by the Weave, and his combat power far surpassed Giant Tail’s. The moment he joined, he became Anser’s strongest fighter.

Although Lin Qiancheng was a high-level mage, he only had the level without the corresponding spellcasting ability—he could only pilot ships and handle management tasks.

High-level adventurers already held elevated positions and were difficult to recruit. Elite adventurers were the backbone of any force; once their numbers increased, they were enough to surround and kill ordinary high-level adventurers.

After signing the contract, the atmosphere of the conversation immediately changed.

The two exchanged information about their respective situations. Then Anser advanced Adolf twenty gold bars, telling him to return and gather his men and arrive at Fort Jacqueline before nightfall.

After he left, Kaleno finally brought in Makaria, the leader of the Flamerule Mercenary Company, into the office.

”You’ve… gotten more and more handsome,” Makaria said casually as she sat down opposite Anser, placing her weapon aside.

”Have you been busy lately?” Anser noticed the fatigue between her brows—she wasn’t as relaxed as she appeared.

”We’re barely breaking even.” Makaria shook her head, staring steadily at Anser. ”Calling me here this time—big job?”

”How much does your mercenary company earn in a year?” Anser asked instead of answering.

”Hm?” Makaria was puzzled but didn’t hide anything. ”Ten to twenty thousand gold a year.”

”So little?” Anser’s eyes showed surprise.

The Flamerule Mercenary Company was quite strong. Among its more than sixty members, there were three elite adventurers and over twenty full-fledged adventurers.

”Little?” Makaria rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. ”Looks like you come from a distinguished background. What would you know about the hardships of ordinary adventurers?”

”You misunderstand.” Anser waved his hand. ”I mean, with the strength of the Flamerule Mercenary Company, you should be able to earn more.”

That ten to twenty thousand also included pensions, equipment wear and tear, and other expenses. After deductions, splitting it among more than sixty people didn’t even compare to serving under a great noble.

”We don’t take overly dangerous jobs. We don’t make enemies. We don’t get involved in noble conflicts.” Makaria smiled faintly, her tone firm.

”Oh.” Anser leaned back in his chair, suddenly finding things troublesome.

He had originally thought money alone would be enough. Now it seemed it wouldn’t be so simple.

”Interested in working for me?” he decided to give it a try. If not, then so be it.

”You want to keep me?”

”Cough—”

”That’s not impossible.” Makaria raised an eyebrow, seriously considering the suggestion.

”Long-term employment!” Anser emphasized. ”Including your entire mercenary company. I’ll provide salaries for each of you, and you fight for me.”

”I see… got my hopes up for nothing.” Makaria crossed her legs and leaned back on the sofa, smiling with amusement. ”I’m personally very willing, but it violates our company’s rules. Impossible.”

”What kind of rule is that? Adventuring is more dangerous, isn’t it?” Anser asked, puzzled.

Makaria fell silent for a moment. ”Because we all come from the same tiefling tribe. We can’t bring trouble to our people.”

Realization dawned on Anser. ”How many people are in your tribe?”

”A few hundred.” Makaria gave a vague number.

”The calamities have arrived. The current situation is completely different from before. Your tribe won’t be able to stay untouched. I have an island in the Sea of Fallen Stars, isolated from the world. It might be more suitable for taking shelter in these chaotic times…” Anser’s mind stirred—this could be a strong bargaining chip.

Makaria listened carefully. Her expression clearly showed interest. After hesitating for a moment, she said, ”I’d like to take a look first.”

”No problem.”

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