The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

The Moonlight Holy Symbol was extremely useful, with a detection range of a full sixteen kilometers.

But the moment Anser entered the Ethereal Plane, the Moonlight Holy Symbol stopped responding.

It couldn’t sense Chosen across planes.

’Could be better.’

He silently grumbled to himself, passed through the more than twenty-meter-high city wall, and emerged outside Suzail.

Through his Truesight, everything in the Material Plane remained perfectly visible.

Orcs tearing into hunks of unidentified meat, gnolls squatting under the shade of trees to take a dump, goblins that had somehow gotten themselves stuck in tree branches... nothing escaped his sight.

But seeing everything too clearly wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Blood, gore, filth, feces, and urine were all mixed together, leaving the entire camp a complete mess.

Fortunately, Anser was on the Ethereal Plane. Otherwise, there probably wouldn’t have been anywhere clean to step, and just imagining the smell was enough to make him sick.

’Maybe those Purple Dragon Knights from prestigious families are afraid of getting dirty too.’

The thought carried no small amount of malice.

He circled the perimeter of the enormous but disorderly military camp, feeling somewhat disdainful.

’No formations, no equipment, and probably no such thing as logistics either.’

After the orcs swept everyone out of the Storm Horns, they had no supplies, no support, and no tactics. They survived entirely by sustaining themselves through war.

Food and drink went without saying. Wild beasts, monsters, and even the corpses of humans and their own kind were all sources of food.

Anser quietly made his way deeper into the center of the camp. Unlike the outskirts, there was finally some semblance of organization here.

And the ones responsible for it weren’t orcs, but a group of properly equipped half-orcs.

Half-orcs were mixed-blood descendants born from unions between orcs and humanoids—a process that, naturally, was rarely voluntary.

Half-orcs were generally larger than humans. They possessed both the strength and resilience granted by their orcish blood and the adaptability and intelligence of humans, yet they had always struggled to integrate into human society.

Under the influence of their orcish blood, some half-orcs would hear Gruumsh whispering to them in their dreams, calling on them to unleash the fury brewing within their hearts.

Some half-orcs would also feel Gruumsh’s exultation amid the chaos of battle. What followed might be the half-orc’s own excitement and joy—or trembling and revulsion born of fear.

Half-orcs weren’t inherently evil, but evil was always lurking within them. Some chose to embrace it. Others chose to resist.

’It’s rare to find a bunch of them with working brains. That Chosen... couldn’t be a half-orc, could they?’

A thought occurred to Anser.

He observed for a while but found no magical traps.

Then he passed through tent after tent until he reached the central command tent.

The tent was stitched together from animal hides. Its style was rough, but it was relatively sturdy, and Gruumsh’s holy symbol was embroidered across the top.

The two guards at the entrance were both half-orcs. They had vicious-looking faces, and each had only one eye. Strange markings were visible across exposed areas such as their foreheads, faces, and arms.

The die turned slightly, and information about the targets quickly appeared:

[Orc Eye of Gruumsh, Half-Orc, Challenge Rating 3]

’Eye of Gruumsh?’

Anser narrowed his eyes and didn’t recklessly barge inside.

Becoming an Eye of Gruumsh involved an ancient sacrificial ritual. An orc would kill an elf in Gruumsh’s name and offer the corpse as a sacrifice to the god of slaughter, causing Gruumsh’s holy marks to appear on the orc’s body.

Afterward, the orc would sacrifice one of their own eyes, symbolizing Gruumsh’s mutilation and forever remembering the origin of his injury—as well as the enemy he hated most, Corellon Larethian.

Gruumsh would then grant the orc spellcasting abilities and unique blessings. Such orcs were known as ”Eyes of Gruumsh,” and every one of them served as an officer within their tribe.

’No wonder the Seldarine and the elves hate Gruumsh so much. Who the hell wouldn’t lose it over something like this?’

Anser quietly raised his guard.

He circled the area and discovered that the central command tent was surrounded entirely by Eyes of Gruumsh—at least three or four hundred of them.

’That means at least three or four hundred elves died.’

It seemed the orcs weren’t nearly as pathetic as they appeared on the surface. They had elite troops of their own.

’The Purple Dragons must have suffered against them.’

That was Anser’s guess.

What did three or four hundred Eyes of Gruumsh actually mean?

Ordinary Professionals were simply no match for them one-on-one. Only Elite Professionals could face them with a reasonable degree of confidence.

And although the Purple Dragon Army had plenty of soldiers, most of them were still ordinary knights. They were so renowned because of their exceptionally high proportion of Professionals, combined with the advantages provided by their mounts and equipment.

’A war of racial conquest serious enough for even Sehanine to pay attention to really isn’t simple.’

He focused his senses, and the Spirit Net projected every fluctuation in the surrounding area directly into his mind.

There were no magical traps and no protective barriers. There was only a powerful but subtle energy fluctuation near the entrance.

{He seems to... know when someone approaches.}

Sakkors’s telepathic message suddenly sounded in his mind.

As long as Anser remained within the Spirit Net’s coverage, Sakkors always kept a portion of his attention on him.

Powerful Professionals caused slight disturbances in the raw magic around them to varying degrees. By taking advantage of this characteristic, Sakkors could help Anser—who couldn’t split his attention between multiple things at once—identify potential dangers.

’Heh. Sneaky bastard.’

Anser sneered and, rather than approaching the tent, immediately withdrew.

Before long, he had left the orc camp and entered Suzail, where he materialized in an empty alley.

It wasn’t that he was scared. It was that anything this abnormal was bound to have something behind it.

’Looks like there are some things Sehanine didn’t tell me.’

The Eyes of Gruumsh weren’t particularly powerful spellcasters. They were skilled with Augury, but there was no way they could keep casting it constantly.

Therefore, they had to possess an Artifact bestowed by Gruumsh to protect against assassination.

Even Sehanine’s Moonlight Holy Symbol couldn’t match this kind of detection ability.

It made sense when he thought about it. Gruumsh placed so much importance on this war that he certainly wouldn’t allow his Chosen to be killed so easily. Even a small divine blessing from him would be enough to completely change the situation for that Chosen.

If Gruumsh’s Chosen were really that easy to kill, there was no way Cormyr would have done nothing.

For one thing, having orcs besieging the city wasn’t exactly good for Cormyr’s reputation. For another, the existence of the ”Eyes of Gruumsh” would hit a particularly sensitive nerve among the elves. They would never tolerate the orcs acting so brazenly.

Tens of thousands of elves lived in Suzail!

{Is that person a Legendary?}

As Anser walked down the street, he questioned Sakkors through Telepathy.

{I’m not sure. Their presence is well concealed, and they aren’t one of our members,} Sakkors replied.

{Keep a close eye on them!}

{Yes.}

Anser thought for a moment, then decided to first seek out the Chosen within the city and learn more about the situation.

Suzail was extremely prosperous, but with Sakkors and the Moonlight Holy Symbol guiding him, there was no need to worry about getting lost. Instead, he had enough leisure to admire the thriving trade city around him.

The orc siege had still caused a considerable impact. Security throughout the city was tight, many civilians wore worried expressions, and the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive.

Following the Moonlight Holy Symbol’s guidance, Anser soon arrived at a large complex of buildings near the city center.

The grounds covered a considerable area and were clean and orderly. A set of words was inscribed above the white-stone gate:

Suzail Academy!

Directly across from the gate stood a tall domed temple, predominantly white and designed in a gentle, understated style. A statue stood at its entrance.

It depicted an elderly man holding a blank scroll in his hands.

’This... the god of knowledge? He doesn’t exactly sound like much of a fighter.’

---

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

---