Yesterday, Stoll had gone to the Union. Everyone had been exceptionally surprised by his return. On the surface, they seemed delighted, but their attitudes were also somewhat ambiguous.
He had once believed that the Durlag Union bore his mark everywhere, that he had personally built it from the ground up, and that Anser's appearance had merely been a convenient stopgap measure at the right moment.
The reality, however, was nothing like that.
Stories of the Six-Winged Dragon circulated throughout the city. Commoners talked about the new President every chance they got. The number of officials had increased dramatically, and many of them had never even heard of Stoll.
Everything he saw in Durlag told him the same thing:
This was Anser's city.
Anser noticed something off in Stoll's tone, but he didn't think much of it.
Stoll had only recently been resurrected. Fluctuating emotions were perfectly normal. Besides, he wasn't a particularly complicated person. He would soon find his way back to himself.
Breakfast was lavish.
Anser ate four six-inch hand pies, a platter of spicy cheese-roasted mushrooms, two pounds of Sembian honey-glazed ribs, and a large bowl of valley dwarf oatmeal porridge before finally wiping his mouth and bringing the simple meal to an end.
Now, he could go several days without food or water, or eat enormous amounts in a single sitting. His form of life had become vastly different from that of an ordinary person.
Seeing that he had finished eating, Iris set down her fork and carefully reminded him, "Be careful. Don't push yourself."
"I know."
Anser took a few sips of tea to cleanse his palate, then stood up and pressed a hand against the identity badge of the Magic Research Society through his robe.
"Where are you going?" Stoll asked in confusion.
"The Magic Research Society."
Anser didn't elaborate. He was afraid Stoll wouldn't be able to handle the truth.
"Huh?"
Stoll stared at him in surprise.
"You're a member of the Magic Research Society?"
Having traveled far and wide for many years, he had naturally heard of the organization. According to rumor, its admission standards were extremely demanding, and combat ability wasn't even part of the evaluation.
"Yep."
Anser walked to one side of the dining hall and began casting Teleportation Circle according to the rune sequence recorded on the badge.
"Uh..."
Stoll scratched his bald head, looking baffled.
"Aren't you a Sorcerer?"
"It's all arcane magic. More or less the same thing."
Anser explained with a perfectly straight face.
Hearing that, Stoll put down his utensils and instantly lost all interest in continuing the conversation.
After completing the spell, Anser didn't activate the Teleportation Circle immediately.
Instead, he first cast Augury to divine the outcome. Only after confirming there was no danger did he open the portal.
He nodded to the two of them and stepped through.
His body vanished into the portal.
A flash of light passed before his eyes.
The next moment, he found himself inside a...
Magic academy.
Beneath his feet stretched a white-stone plaza.
Several broad paved roads extended in all directions. In the distance stood lush greenery interspersed with stone buildings of various colors. Names were written on each building, and signposts lined the roads.
Teaching Hall.
Library.
Academy Dining Hall.
Opera House.
Alchemy Laboratory.
Observatory.
...
Students in standardized uniforms moved beneath the shade of trees and along the roads in groups of two or three, hurrying from place to place.
Farther away, more than a dozen wizard towers rose into the sky, each with its own distinctive design.
'Wasn't there supposed to be only a little over a hundred members? Why are there so many people?'
Pressing his lips together, Anser picked a direction at random and started walking.
Footsteps approached rapidly.
Turning his head, he saw a young man in a gray robe running toward him, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead.
From a distance, the young man waved and called out, "Mr. Drizzt?"
Anser stopped and looked at him.
"That's me."
"I'm terribly sorry. I'm late."
The young man bowed repeatedly, looking apologetic.
"I'm Albert, a student of Mentor Jiandar. Please allow me to escort you to headquarters."
"This isn't the headquarters of the Magic Research Society?" Anser asked.
"It is... and it isn't..."
Albert took the lead and began guiding him down the road while explaining.
The Magic Research Society was located within an artificial demiplane.
Through the efforts of generations of members, it had continued to expand over the years. Its current diameter exceeded ten kilometers, making it comparable in size to a large city.
The wizard towers surrounding them had all been left behind by legendary wizards of the past. Each tower represented a different school of magic.
To avoid running out of successors, the Magic Research Society accepted not only full members but also actively recruited talented magical apprentices. It had even established a brutal selection system.
Every year, each member was entitled to recommend one student for admission.
These students had no fixed mentors. Instead, they all studied at the academy for six years. Outstanding graduates would be selected by the various wizard towers and taken on as apprentices, while those who failed would be expelled from the academy and assigned to manage the city, farm the land, or tend livestock.
At first, there had been no ordinary citizens here. Aside from constructs, there were only familiars and apprentices.
But people had desires and emotions.
After countless generations of natural reproduction, the population had long since surpassed ten thousand.
Other than being unable to come and go freely, life here was no different from the outside world.
"So you're saying everyone here can read, write, and do arithmetic?"
Anser's eyes lit up as if he had discovered a treasure vault.
"Uh, not exactly."
Albert let out an awkward laugh.
"Have you ever heard of heredity?"
"I know the basics."
"A genius's child isn't necessarily a genius. The differences can be enormous. That's why many commoners here aren't much different from those outside. Still, if a family can afford it, they're willing to send their children to school. After all, what if one of them becomes a Wizard?"
The Magic Research Society offered preferential treatment to the descendants of wizards, allowing those with exceptional talent and a strong work ethic to earn admission to the academy through their own abilities.
"What are the graduation requirements?" Anser asked with interest.
"Either become a full-fledged Wizard, or be recognized by one of the members and accepted as an apprentice."
As he said that, Albert cautiously stole a few glances at Anser.
There were some things he left unsaid.
Members did not choose apprentices lightly, because most of the resources required for an apprentice's training came from the mentor's own pocket.
The more Anser listened, the more familiar it sounded.
Isn't this somewhat similar to Thay's system?
"Take a look at this."
Albert handed him a rolled-up newspaper.
Anser took it. The paper felt thick and well-printed.
When he opened it, the headline on the front page read:
"Genius Wizard Drizzt Joins the Society, Suspected Chosen of a Goddess"
The publication date was the day before yesterday.
The author's name was one he had never heard before.
It seemed Jiandar had also been influenced by this article.
"Same name."
Anser took a deep breath and casually made up an excuse.
"Oh, I see."
Albert lowered his head, though it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
While they talked, the two arrived beneath a wizard tower, where Jiandar was already waiting at the entrance.
"Drizzt, over here."
He waved with a smile.
The people nearby immediately stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to Anser, their expressions varying from person to person.
"You can anchor your teleportation coordinates to Otto Wizard Tower. Next time, you'll be able to teleport directly here."
Jiandar patted him on the shoulder.
"Mm. Are you coming too this time?"
Anser felt that Jiandar was more of an academic. His temperament was gentle and scholarly, not at all like a battle mage.
"I am, but I won't be handling the fighting."
Jiandar stepped slightly aside and gestured toward a tall, thin man standing nearby.
"The leader of this expedition is him—the guardian of Otto Wizard Tower, Mr. Mason."
"You've surprised me, Mr. Drizzt."
The tall, gaunt man was rather ugly, with a long horse-like face and an oversized mouth. Yet he carried himself with remarkable composure, speaking in an unhurried tone.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Anser flashed a bright smile.
The dice rolled and quickly displayed the target's information:
[Mason, Half-Elf, Level 14 Psion (Telekinetic), Level 3 Wizard (School of Transmutation)]
So this was actually a Psion—the very class Anser had mentioned before.
They were exceedingly rare.
Fortunately, both Psions and Wizards relied on Intelligence as their primary ability score, making the two classes highly compatible.
Mason was clearly interested in Anser, yet he didn't pry any further. After offering a few words of praise, he fell silent.
For this operation, the Magic Research Society had dispatched only two people:
Mason and Jiandar.
This wasn't arrogance.
They had also brought along an Iron Golem, two Stone Golems, and two Shield Guardians.
Wizards may have fallen from their former glory, but the weapons of war they created remained as powerful as ever.