The Archmetamagician: The Weave Collapses Again

Anser actually wanted to say a few words in Waterdeep’s defense. They really had sent reinforcements—two cruiser-class warships, no less.

But he could tell how much resentment Grand Duke Ravengard was harboring, so he simply kept his mouth shut.

“We don’t need to worry about the Lords’ Alliance, but the situation with Paros is actually more troublesome,” Grand Duke Ravengard said thoughtfully.

After a moment’s thought, Anser understood his concern.

Paros had originally been a dependency of Baldur’s Gate. Now that Baldur’s Gate had joined the Holrewen Federation, what was Paros supposed to do?

“Let them decide for themselves. I won’t force the issue.” Anser didn’t particularly care.

“No, this is very important. If the Federation sends troops from Durlag, we can only strike Rivington and Silver Scale Bay on the south bank of the River Chionthar. Any attempt to cross the river will inevitably come under underwater attack from the kuo-toa.”

“If we establish our forward position in Paros instead, things will be much easier. It’s close, transportation is convenient, and we would have the Sword Coast’s enormous population base to support us…” The Grand Duke patiently analyzed the advantages and disadvantages.

Anser wasn’t well versed in military affairs, but even he understood the key points.

“With me around, distance isn’t a problem.” He smiled confidently. “As for whether Paros stays or leaves, let Lady Silverleaf make that decision herself. I don’t want to interfere too much.”

“Well… all right.” The Grand Duke didn’t press the issue.

He believed that as long as Anser was willing to step in, persuading Paros’s independent council wouldn’t be difficult.

The reason Paros had attached itself to Baldur’s Gate in the first place was that its people had caused quite a bit of trouble by cracking down on the slave trade everywhere, yet lacked the strength to deal with the consequences. They had been forced to shelter under Baldur’s Gate’s name.

Baldur’s Gate had never sent troops on their behalf, but the value of its reputation couldn’t be discounted.

Anser and the Grand Duke stopped expanding on the subject and instead began discussing the details of their cooperation.

When Grand Duke Ravengard escaped from Baldur’s Gate, he had managed to bring a considerable amount of his resources with him. Combined with the soldiers he had recruited recently, he still had more than a thousand troops under his command, along with over a hundred trusted retainers.

Among them was the renowned Flaming Fist. More than five hundred members remained, all of them elite troops, and their commander was a high-level Barbarian.

The newly recruited soldiers had all been incorporated into the Watch Legion, whose numbers had just surpassed one thousand. Most were recruits currently training at a military camp outside the city.

There were also quite a few former subordinates from Baldur’s Gate, but some had died, some had fled, and others had scattered. Only a little over a hundred were still willing to follow the Grand Duke.

Their capabilities aside, there was absolutely no questioning their loyalty.

All of these people had to be properly settled and put to use. They couldn’t simply be abandoned.

After more than two hours of negotiations, the two jointly drafted an exceptionally detailed magical agreement and signed it.

Grand Duke Ravengard knew exactly what Anser was looking forward to most. After putting away the magical contract, he took out a silver chest half as tall as a man and set it down in front of Anser.

“You take a look. I’ll go pack my things and gather my people.”

He patted Anser on the shoulder, got up, and headed outside.

Their cooperation sounded simple enough, but actually handling everything involved was extremely complicated.

Their assets, for example, weren’t all gold coins. There was no way they could finish appraising and transferring everything in just a day or two.

Anser had arrived too suddenly, and many things hadn’t been prepared in advance. They could only hurry and get as much done as possible.

“All right. I’ll issue an announcement shortly and send people over to handle the transfer.” Anser spoke without taking his eyes off the silver chest.

When he heard the door close behind him, he took a deep breath and gently lifted the unlocked lid.

The walls of the chest were thick, and whatever was inside had been wrapped in a red blanket.

He pulled the blanket aside, revealing an enormous, thick book. Its material was heavy and dense, resembling some kind of stone, and it radiated a powerful psychic pressure.

‘A book made of stone?’

He didn’t rashly touch it. Instead, he focused and examined it.

The die slowly turned, and information about the target appeared:

[Sola’s Book of the Tablets of Fate, Wondrous Item, Legendary]

‘The Tablets of Fate?’ His heart jolted.

Then he immediately realized that this was probably someone’s imitation, not the actual Tablets of Fate.

According to legend, the Tablets of Fate were three unadorned stone tablets—the Overgod Ao’s memorandum of the laws of the cosmos, symbolizing the trinity of balance, order, and responsibility.

They recorded every deity’s portfolio, divine rank, sphere of worship, responsibilities, and obligations.

The Time of Troubles had been a catastrophe triggered by the loss of the Tablets of Fate.

Later, Ao reclaimed the Tablets, ground them into powder, and reforged them into a stone tome that glowed throughout with a faint blue light.

Of course, these were all just legends. Anser had only heard about them himself.

‘What kind of secret needs a Legendary-quality magical book to record it?’

He rubbed his hands together, lifted the book out, and placed it on the carpet.

The word “Ascension” was written across the cover in Netherese, though the handwriting was as clumsy as a child’s.

He opened the dusty gray stone cover, revealing stone pages densely carved with text.

[Mystra, Goddess of Magic, Greater Deity. Portfolios: Magic, Knowledge…]

Anser’s eyes widened. The more he read, the more astonished he became.

The book actually recorded the names, divine ranks, portfolios, and other information of numerous deities.

He briefly compared its contents against his own memories and found very few discrepancies. Its accuracy was remarkably high.

‘Who is Sola? How could someone have the nerve to make something like this? Can this thing update itself?’

The names on the Tablets of Fate were inscribed by Ao and could be automatically revised and replaced, but this Book of the Tablets of Fate shouldn’t possess that kind of power.

Regardless, if the gods learned that someone had dared imitate the Tablets of Fate, there was no way they would simply ignore it.

He picked up the book and vanished in a flash, teleporting to the top floor of the Black Tower in Holrewen.

‘Why do I feel like a thief?’

Grand Duke Ravengard had presumably read this book before, and nothing had happened to him. That meant the book probably hadn’t attracted anyone’s attention.

Anser continued reading. The first three pages were filled entirely with the names of deities, densely packed together—more than a hundred in total—arranged from highest to lowest divine rank.

Starting on the fourth page, however, the contents changed.

The author began by introducing the Tablets of Fate, then explained six paths to godhood and offered an assessment of each one.

The most conventional was apotheosis through faith. Its core requirements were to establish a vast and loyal network of worshippers, gain control over a portfolio that wasn’t already monopolized, and accumulate enough faith energy to break through to the level of a “demigod.”

Ao had always tacitly permitted this path. Upon attaining godhood, the new deity would automatically gain recognition from the Tablets of Fate.

According to the book, the Overgod Ao wasn’t the “ruler of the gods,” but rather the custodian of cosmic order.

The loss of the Tablets of Fate itself hadn’t actually mattered that much. What enraged him was that someone had disrupted “order”!

After stealing the Tablets of Fate, the Dead Three temporarily gained “temporary divine freedom,” but ultimately suffered punishment and had their divine ranks shattered.

And yet all three of their names still remained on the Tablets of Fate!

They were still gods.

‘That’s right. Why didn’t the Overgod erase them completely?’

Was he unable to, or simply unwilling?

There were several other paths to godhood as well.

The least risky was inheriting a portfolio. For example, during the Time of Troubles, Kelemvor inherited Myrkul’s “Death” portfolio after passing Ao’s test of “fairness in life and death.”

The riskiest was seizing a divine rank. If Ao chose not to intervene, the new god would directly inherit the fallen deity’s place on the Tablets of Fate.

Then there was ritual apotheosis, the least reliable method of all. The book dismissed it in a single sentence, while taking the opportunity to express some contempt for Karsus.