Chapter 681: Cold World War

Chapter 681: Cold World War

“Argrave has to die.”

Following that declaration, Jaray blew a puff of smoke from his mouth. He looked between countless gods arrayed here, who’d come either in-person or through emissaries. Following the tremendous display with the suns, doubts about the amiability of the newly-elected leader of the Blackgard Union had come into fruition in the form of this secret meeting. If Argrave would do something like that without consulting them, what more would he do? It was clear he didn’t have as much an interest in their opinion as he’d claimed.

“He’s gone to tremendous lengths to make sure that all of the cards remain in his hand,” Jaray continued. “When the final hand is dealt, and he alone decides what to do about the cycle of judgment, none of us will have any place remaining in his new order.”

“You claimed to me privately not a month ago that his efforts would lead to the end of all divinity,” one of the assembled gods noted. “The story’s a little different now.”

“I can’t prove it any longer.” Jaray shook his head. “I believe it, but the Heralds can’t back up my words. Their tongues have been cut off, effectively. Argrave decided that when he stole the souls of every living being and hid them away in his new sun. It’s emblematic of his intents toward all of us. To deprive without asking. To ‘help’ without consideration. Who’s to say what power he actually gained from it?”

“What are you suggesting?” another god questioned.

Jaray tipped his pipe, and ashes tumbled out. “Perhaps he can exert control as Gerechtigkeit intended to. Or perhaps, with just a thought, he could sever someone’s tie with their soul, killing them instantly. If either is true, he has all mortalkind in the palm of his hands. From rats to humans, cats to elves... in one fell swoop, he took it all. He can’t be allowed to do it again.”

“If he had any intention of cooperating, he could once again head to Law’s Court and explain himself. No—he remains in Blackgard, martialing his power, bringing every god and mortal that’s both loyal and powerful to prepare for Gerechtigkeit.” Another of the assembled wistfully shook their head. “If he intended to, he could’ve become a god long ago. That he hasn’t speaks of his intents. Argrave fights for the mortals alone.”

“Well said,” Jaray concurred. “But you mentioned a rather significant problem—one that’s the explanation for why I’ve brought us all here, rather overtly.” He raised his hand up. “Argrave remains in the heart of his power, building up more and more defenses around himself day by day. Some of the mortals surrounding him are nearly equal to gods in power, and even the gods are either too blindly trusting or simply don’t care about their own fate. Perhaps, idealistically, they believe their deaths would better serve this planet.”

“Ideals? We can’t have those,” a discontent-looking god said snidely.

Jaray inhaled deeply on his pipe, staring at the lone dissenter. “Any assassination will need to be exceedingly well-coordinated,” he continued. “To kill Argrave, both he and Anneliese need to be all but totally eviscerated. They share a divine power of a sorts which enables the both of them to survive off of the energy of everything. His blood magic burns through and absorbs anything’s essence—life force, magic, divine power, you name it—while Anneliese has an ability to distribute said essence. She can generally reinvigorate other’s supply of magic, but for Argrave, she can restore his body. They haven’t been idle in collecting an abundance of said essence. Any battle done with them will be devastatingly catastrophic.”

“That can’t be right,” one of the gods protested, leaning in. “That sort of power is absurd.”

“We’re talking about the pair that fought Sataistador, Erlebnis, and the Qircassian Coalition, and came out on top,” Jaray cut in quickly. “Not just that—the two that went to the Shadowlands, carved a path through it, and returned victorious, bringing back a powerful tool they employ even now to gain an advantage.”

“What tool?” Someone asked.

“Something that can bridge the Shadowlands and our realm,” Jaray answered smoothly. “Believe me or don’t—but all of you should know by now, I know things. Too many things. And I’ve helped all of you out, in one way or another, with that knowledge.”

Anneliese nodded. “Some of the ancient heroes that we left to help them agreed to be subsumed into some of the Shadowlanders. The revolution against the Hopeful’s control inherited some of the best expertise in strategy and leadership the world has ever seen, or will ever see. When we’ve conversed with the revolution, they’ve directly cited the men and women we left behind as a source for continued success against the Hopeful despite their inferior numbers.”

Argrave had been a little surprised—and very worried—when he’d heard that some of the ancient heroes that Garm had brought back agreed to be subsumed into the Shadowlanders. Ultimately, they elected to live on, even if in this bizarre, subordinate fashion. He couldn’t fault them that, and perhaps it was a good thing. It gave their foes some sympathies with Argrave’s people.

“I think we can trust them not to act against our best interests,” Argrave said—not a ringing endorsement, but the truth. “Even if not, the Shadowlanders are in in the middle of a civil war. Neither side is especially eager for compromise.” He looked at Lorena. “Do you have any further insights about the Shadowlands? Can the Heralds really reach there?”

Lorena shook her head. “All that I know is that it’s an important place for the cycle of judgment. The Heralds can definitely reach there—specifically, they can reach the Hopeful alone.”

“Cockroaches. Just as prophesied, they survived my little nuclear explosion with the suns.” Argrave scratched his cheek, feeling somewhat disappointed. “What’s the worst-case scenario for us?”

“Gerechtigkeit, the Shadowlanders, and Jaray’s traitorous factions team up, coordinate an attack, and specifically try to target us to dismantle the opposition that we’ve made,” Anneliese summarized. “That’s an eventuality that we’ve already been preparing for.”

“It’s difficult to conceptualize how powerful Gerechtigkeit will be in this cycle,” Lorena noted, crossing her arms. “You remember your friend, Castro, and his A-rank ascension of [Arete]? Manifesting all of the potential of one spell, in a single attack.”

Argrave nodded. “I remember. One F-rank spell tore through Shadowlanders with ease.”

“That’s essentially what Gerechtigkeit will be,” Lorena pointed out. “The Heralds claim he’ll be as strong as every past iteration, combined.”

Argrave had heard the same claim. Lorena had earned the Heralds’ trust, and hearing it mimicked through her, didn’t have any reason to disbelieve it. As Lorena said, such a thing was very difficult to conceptualize.

“For the first time ever, we’re on equal footing with our foe in terms of information-gathering.” Elenore finally spoke up. “Nothing happens on this planet, or any of the divine realms, without Lorena getting word of it. There won’t be any surprises, any more misdirection. Any strategy they devise, we’ll have to counter with equal force, equal tactics, or risk being overwhelmed.” She looked at Lorena. “That means it’s long overdue, Lorena.”

“Raven’s been talking to Hause,” Lorena said defensively. “He’s been doing his best to convince her, and I’ve been doing my best for him. He says that he hates me a lot, but you can’t deny my results.”

It was true—Argrave couldn’t. With the prospect of Raven’s soul still having a use in the future taken off the table, Lorena made an effort to help Raven become less abominable in his own eyes—therapy with a space dragon, Argrave called it affectionately. And Raven, in turn, had been speaking to Hause and her followers. He’d gone through tremendous lengths to save them as the Smiling Raven, and stood as testament that Hause’s power wasn’t necessarily all bad.

“I think it’s time to stop pussyfooting around the goddess of potential.” Argrave looked out the pavilion, looking out at the changed Blackgard. Gods and their servants roamed freely, acting in stalwart defense of the city. It’d exploded in population, and architects were hard-pressed keeping up with the demand. “Before any real fighting starts, we need to have Hause unlock our potential. Elsewise, we might get assassinated. And that’s... unideal.”