The Magic Research Society's rules were remarkably well thought out—especially when it came to selecting its Executive President.
They deliberately appointed spellcasters who were on the verge of reaching the legendary rank, and for good reason.
First, the position served as a form of tempering, helping them adjust their mindset so they wouldn't become obsessed with breaking through and end up taking reckless risks.
Second, it allowed resources to flow toward them, giving them more opportunities and options.
Lacking talent wasn't necessarily a dead end. Luck and powerful external aids could still help them take that crucial final step.
For Executive President Gordon, nothing mattered more than reaching the legendary rank. Anything that couldn't help him achieve that goal was expendable.
"This legendary item has been with me for over thirty years," Gordon said with a sigh. "But in all that time, I haven't experienced a single battle worthy of it."
Some people were either fighting or on their way to a fight.
Others always remained outside the turmoil.
Anser gently ran his hand along the bow's limbs before asking hesitantly, "In exchange for the Regalia of the Nether Periwinkle?"
"Of course, if you're willing."
"I am."
Anser thanked him immediately. He hadn't expected the Executive President to be so generous.
To him, the Arcanefire Longbow wasn't even in the same league as the Regalia of the Nether Periwinkle.
Still, he understood that an item's value depended on who was using it.
The Arcanefire Longbow provided a percentage-based enhancement, dramatically raising a spellcaster's combat ceiling. But if the wielder's spellcasting ability was mediocre to begin with, that ceiling wouldn't amount to much.
The Regalia of the Nether Periwinkle, on the other hand, offered a fixed increase. Anyone who wore it could raise an undead army, making it especially valuable to a necromancer at the lowest point of their career.
Anser glanced at the Elemental Orb floating beside his shoulder and realized its time had passed.
It wasn't a bad item. Its resonance with the four elements was spectacular, and its Elemental Bane effect had a chance to reduce an enemy's resistances.
But for Anser now, most of those abilities had lost their significance. The only thing he truly hated to part with was the boost its Air affinity gave to Fly.
'I'll leave it to Iris.'
That was what he decided.
He had already given Iris the Ethereal Amulet and the True Sight Ring. Her equipment was quite good, though she'd acquired most of it back when the Weave was still stable.
"You should head back first," Gordon said. "I'll go speak with those old geezers. But prepare yourself—Vecna's artifacts come with enormous drawbacks. A fair-value exchange is out of the question."
"I understand."
Anser put away the Arcanefire Longbow, gave a respectful bow, and turned to leave.
Quide exchanged a glance with Gordon, waved casually, and hurried after him.
"The truth is, our vault holds more than one artifact," he said quietly. "But some are even more dangerous than Vecna's. There's supposedly even a god-slaying weapon among them. Heh... Your artifacts will most likely end up being traded away."
"Traded with whom?" Anser asked, puzzled.
From the sound of it, the Magic Research Society had no intention of keeping the Eye and Hand of Vecna.
"The Shadowfell, the Astral Plane, other Wildspace systems... any of them, really," Quide replied casually.
Understanding dawned on Anser.
He realized his perspective had been too narrow.
Vecna was only a lesser deity with limited influence. Looking across the entire multiverse, he had plenty of enemies—and even more beings who had no reason to fear him.
...
After returning to the Otto Mage Tower, Anser bid farewell to Tower Master Quide and found Jiandar waiting in the main hall.
"Looks like things went well for you," Jiandar remarked, noticing the smile lingering at the corners of Anser's eyes.
"The Executive President gave me his own arcane implement."
"Now that's surprising. Quide didn't turn green with envy? He's had his eye on that thing for ages," Jiandar joked.
"Huh? I didn't notice anything like that," Anser replied, genuinely surprised.
"Don't mind him. He's not the petty type." Jiandar stroked his beard, only to discover two hairs had come loose. He immediately looked rather distressed.
"I could tell."
Perhaps because elves lived such long lives, they generally weren't as attached to material possessions. Most of them simply weren't as greedy as humans.
According to Jiandar, he hadn't originally been the resident wizard at Traveler's Rest. The post had belonged to a wizard from another mage tower.
But that man had been far too greedy, causing one problem after another, so the assignment was eventually transferred to Otto Mage Tower.
It was a highly desirable posting. Without Quide's relationship with Gordon, Otto Mage Tower would never have had a chance to secure it.
After chatting for a while longer, Anser cast Teleport, bringing Jiandar with him to Fort Jacqueline.
He had the butler summon Kafka and prepare a reception room so the two could speak in private.
Yet barely fifteen minutes later, Jiandar emerged with Kafka in tow, a satisfied smile on his face.
"That was fast?" Anser remarked, feeling the evaluation had been rather casual.
"It wasn't exactly complicated."
The academy's purpose was to train wizards. Kafka was already a full-fledged Divination Wizard, and his talent more than met the requirements. As long as his background checked out, there was nothing else to worry about.
"Anything else you want to tell him? If not, I'll be taking him with me," Jiandar said, looking at Anser.
Anser stepped forward and pulled Kafka into a firm embrace, patting him on the back.
"Study hard and build a future for yourself. If you ever need anything, write to me."
To Anser, Rock of Bral orbiting the moon, the Magic Research Society in its demiplane, and Durlag were all equally close. He could reach any of them in an instant.
But for Kafka, they were separated by an uncrossable chasm. He had no way to make the journey on his own. Once he left, he might not return for years—or even decades. Living alone in a foreign land was far harder than it sounded.
Kafka froze in confusion. His hands hovered awkwardly near Anser's shoulders as his emotions suddenly threatened to spill over. Scene after scene of their desperate flight flashed through his mind, and his eyes slowly reddened.
Just moments ago, he'd only been excited.
"If you need anything, just take it from the warehouse."
Anser stepped back, signaling that it was time for them to leave.
"Mm."
Kafka took a deep breath and moved to stand behind Jiandar.
A flash of light enveloped them, and the two vanished simultaneously.
"You're surprisingly good at pulling on people's heartstrings."
A soft female voice drifted down from above.
Anser looked up to see Iris leaning against the second-floor railing, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
"I wasn't trying to. Where are Stoll and Brunhilde?"
"Heh, they're at Durlag. Back when there was work to do, they ignored it. Now that everything's settled, they're going out of their way to find something to keep themselves busy." Iris arched a brow, amusement flickering in the corner of her eyes.
"I'll head to Durlag myself in a bit. Oh, right—this is for you."
Anser reached up, caught the Elemental Orb, and tossed it toward her.
The mithral sphere streaked through the air as a crimson flash.
Iris instinctively caught it. The moment she saw what it was, she froze.
"What about you?"
"As for me?" Anser grinned as he produced the Arcanefire Longbow and gave it a little wave. "I've got something even better. A legendary weapon."
"Oh?" Iris wasn't particularly surprised. "The Magic Research Society really is loaded."
Trading for new equipment wasn't unusual.
Trading for something that suited you perfectly, however, required a bit of luck.
"I'm going to attune to it, then test its power."
"Mm."
Anser hurried back to his room to attune to the bow, even postponing the draw for his eleventh Adventure Trait.
Once a man got his hands on the weapon of his dreams, even if ten stunning beauties threw themselves at him naked, they wouldn't be enough to distract him.
The former was a satisfaction that came from the soul.
The latter was merely the basest of physical desires.
Of course, Anser was a man of base desires.
He just happened to be noble once in a while.
An hour later, Anser appeared out in the wilderness.
With the Arcanefire Longbow in hand, he drew the string and loosed arrow after arrow of translucent arcane energy.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The surrounding grass, trees, and boulders all suffered the consequences as explosions rang out one after another.
'Awesome!'
The power of the arcane arrows depended on the wielder's spellcasting ability, and with Anser's Charisma at 25, both their damage and range had skyrocketed.
The arrows were quiet, flew in perfectly straight trajectories, and traveled at incredible speed. Their base range was twice that of an ordinary ranger's bow—1,200 feet, or roughly 360 meters.
The same applied to spells cast through the Arcanefire Longbow.
Without using Distant Spell, Fireball now had a range of 216 meters.
But after applying Metamagic, its range wasn't 648 meters as he'd expected. Instead, it topped out at just over 486 meters.
Repeated tests produced the same result every time.
'Must be the way the spell mechanics work.'
Both Distant Spell and the Arcanefire Longbow extended a spell's range. Although they worked through different mechanisms, there was enough overlap that their effects couldn't simply be multiplied together. The maximum range with both active ended up a little lower than expected.
'That difference doesn't matter in the slightest.'
A range of nearly 500 meters was already absurd.
At that distance, forget ordinary wizards—even a ranger at the absolute peak of mortal ability couldn't shoot that far.
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