The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

”What happened?” Anser asked calmly as he strode out of the crowd.

Ever since the Teleportation Circle had been opened, he’d known this stone building was bound to become a crossroads for every kind of faction. Enemies running into each other and drawing steel was hardly surprising.

”One side claims to be the Harpers. No idea who the other side is.”

Osborn gave the group of wizards another look, his opinion of Anser rising even higher.

The female wizard Nefis turned to Anser and said in her usual gentle, unhurried voice, ”Come on. Let’s take a look.”

”Alright.”

Anser led the way outside, with the wizard delegation following close behind.

Nefis was a 17th-level Wizard of the School of Transmutation, and everyone respected her abilities. Despite the steel ornaments adorning her robes, she spoke with remarkable softness, as gentle as a spring breeze.

When they reached the first floor of the stone building, everything was still relatively orderly. Around them stood more than a dozen Giff, firearms in hand.

Standing beside the entrance was General Smokefire, a towering Giff gripping an oversized blunderbuss with both hands as he nervously watched the fighting in the alley.

Anser took a few quick strides out of the building. At a glance, he saw that several people were already lying dead or wounded in the narrow street.

More than a dozen adventurers dressed in ordinary traveling gear were locked in a chaotic, vicious melee. They had split into several groups, and the sounds of clashing weapons mingled constantly with music.

Anser’s gaze settled on one man with a hand drum hanging from his waist. He fought with a sword in his right hand while occasionally striking the drum with his left, seamlessly weaving its rhythm into his combat. His movements were graceful, and his fighting style was unlike anything Anser had seen before.

The die spun slightly, displaying the target’s information.

[Senior Harper, Human, Level 16 Bard (College of Valor)]

’I knew they’d show up.’

Anser wasn’t surprised.

The Harpers were everywhere and were famous for sticking their noses into other people’s business. There was virtually no chance they’d ignore something as significant as a Chosen of Bane seizing power.

Still, a Level 16 Bard wasn’t nearly strong enough to challenge a Chosen. The real question was whether they had reinforcements waiting in the wings.

His opponent was a rogue who fought while steadily retreating, clearly having no interest in getting bogged down in a fight with the Harper.

After spinning for a moment, the die revealed his identity as well.

[Zhentarim elite, Human, Level 17 Rogue (Arcane Trickster)]

Anser clicked his tongue.

That Zhentarim rogue wasn’t exactly doing his organization any favors.

He’d been identified by a bard a level below him—and was even being chased around the battlefield.

After hesitating for several seconds, Anser chose not to intervene.

After all, he only knew a few members of the Harpers, and even then, their relationship was nothing special. He had no personal grudge against the Zhentarim. Jumping in now would make him look like he was meddling in someone else’s affairs.

More importantly, he wasn’t acting solely on his own behalf anymore. Reckless actions could drag the Magic Research Society and everyone traveling with him into unnecessary trouble.

Now that the Teleportation Circle was open, all kinds of people would inevitably pass through it. As its owner, he had to remain neutral. As long as no one provoked them first, they couldn’t attack travelers, nor could they interfere in conflicts between other factions.

The moment he abandoned that neutrality, people would start thinking twice before using his teleportation circle.

The Zhentarim were arguably the most powerful criminal intelligence network in the underworld, operating throughout Realmspace while spreading their influence and expanding their power by whatever means necessary.

Without question, both the forces of good and legitimate rulers regarded the Zhentarim as an evil organization.

Oddly enough, however, their reputation among ordinary folk wasn’t particularly bad. Public opinion toward them was surprisingly neutral rather than universally hostile.

In those brief dozen or so seconds, the Zhentarim had already completed their withdrawal.

Splitting into three groups, more than ten of them successfully shook off their pursuers before disappearing into the maze of alleyways.

The Harpers chased after them for over a hundred meters before giving up and regrouping.

”Thank goodness...” General Smokefire lowered his blunderbuss and scratched his thinning hair.

He was a high-level fighter himself, but he had no desire to get dragged into a fight that had nothing to do with him—a point Osborn had specifically emphasized to him earlier.

”My head’s about to explode. The fighting hasn’t stopped for days...” Osborn plopped down on the steps outside the entrance and launched into an endless stream of complaints.

”I don’t see any damage to the stone building. I’d say you’ve all done an excellent job,” Anser quickly reassured him.

He looked around.

A squad of halflings, a squad of dwarves, and two squads of Giff mercenaries were stationed both inside and outside the building. Together with Osborn, General Smokefire, and the high-level hill dwarf Bruno, they formed a respectable defensive force. Most newcomers wouldn’t dare cause trouble.

”Where’s Bruno?” Anser asked, not seeing the hill dwarf anywhere.

The two had met during the mind flayer crisis, when Anser had helped the hill dwarves and earned their friendship.

”I sent him away.” Osborn shot Anser a helpless look. ”His temper’s too explosive. He got into an argument with a group of adventurers and nearly came to blows.”

”Ah... I see.” Anser shrugged.

The wizard delegation waited quietly on the first floor while Nefis stood by the doorway, listening to their conversation.

Seeing that, Anser took the initiative to ask, ”What’s the situation at the Star Palace now?”

”The Chosen of Bane was attacked once in the military camp before, and then again last night. It was probably adventurers. The army quickly surrounded and killed the attackers...” Osborn explained in detail.

The royal family had deep reserves, and the Star Palace’s magical defenses were formidable. The Chosen of Bane was wary of the constant stream of troublemakers appearing one after another, so he didn’t dare make an all-out move. As a result, the standoff had continued until now.

According to Osborn’s records, hundreds of people had come and gone over the past few days, including no shortage of clergy from various churches. Their purpose was obvious.

Rock of Bral no longer had anything resembling public order. Residents were afraid to leave their homes, the authorities had pulled all official forces back, and both the Star Palace and the army’s perimeter were packed with lookouts and adventurers. The atmosphere was unbearably tense.

Anser’s tactic of muddying the waters had turned Rock of Bral into a massive powder keg that could explode at any moment.

And whatever move the Chosen of Bane made next might well be the spark that set it off.

’Most of them are probably from the lawful good factions...?’

Anser fell silent for a moment, not entirely sure.

”Are there any other Chosen here?” Nefis suddenly asked.

Osborn glanced at Anser before giving a slight nod.

”Yes. Besides Priest Evan of the Church of Selûne and the Second Prince, there’s one more. They’re hiding in the Temple District of the Upper City. I haven’t met them.”

”I want to see Evan,” Nefis said, turning to Anser.

”Let’s get you settled in first. This is Osborn, the halflings’ leader. I’ll have him arrange a meeting with Evan and work out a suitable time.” Anser gestured toward Osborn as he introduced him.

”You’re our guide. We’ll follow your lead.” Nefis smiled, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth.

Osborn had been thinking ahead. Instead of arranging accommodations in the Burrows, he had chosen houses right beside the stone building.

The area around the building had been in constant turmoil these past few days, and all the neighboring residents had fled. Taking advantage of that, he’d rented several nearby courtyards at steep prices. Two of them housed the Giff mercenaries and the dwarves, while the rest were practically empty.

He had already had two courtyards cleaned and fully furnished, making them perfect for the wizard delegation.

If an enemy too powerful for them ever appeared at the stone building, the wizards certainly wouldn’t stand by and do nothing. Even in ordinary times, simply having them nearby would serve as a powerful deterrent.

While thanking him, Nefis casually summoned two Iron Golems—one into each courtyard.

The towering constructs immediately assumed combat stances, their imposing presence alone enough to make anyone think twice.

When Anser met her bright, watery eyes, he instantly understood.

She had seen through Osborn’s little scheme from the very beginning.

Not only had Nefis not minded, she had willingly helped him.

Most creatures judged with their eyes first, and Iron Golems possessed an overwhelming deterrent effect—far greater than several hundred ordinary soldiers.

’She’s... incredibly considerate.’

Anser gave her a slight bow in gratitude.

When they’d first met, he’d assumed she was a taciturn, aloof wizard with a personality as cold and rigid as steel.

Thinking back on it now, he felt a little embarrassed.

The Aeglin Mage Tower might be famous for its constructs, but that certainly didn’t mean the people there had personalities to match.

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