Chapter 674: Unassailable Entrenched Position (Patreon)

“I think that the answer should be obvious.” Elenore stared Argrave down. “When you’re fighting an opponent, there’s only two ways to gain advantage. Strengthen your own side, or weaken theirs.”

Argrave narrowed his eyes at her suggestion. “Weakening him kind of defeats the purpose of this being a test, doesn’t it? If you turn down the difficulty when you get beaten into the dust, you don’t learn how to overcome the challenge. It’s… cheating, basically.”

Elenore shrugged. “Fine. Why are you even asking me? Ask Anneliese—she’s the one with magic.”

“I will. But in the meantime, I respect your opinion, too.” He leaned on her desk. “Besides, you were right alongside Orion and I when we melded into the Tree of Being, and you have the most experience around talking with Vasquer.”

“Alright…” Elenore stood up. “Then I reiterate—make him weaker. You aren’t playing a game, you’re fighting a war, a battle—and learning how to weaken Raven can be applied to Gerechtigkeit in much the same way. They’re similar, even, in how terrifying I find them.”

Argrave thought on it for a moment, then realized she did have a rather ironclad point. Beyond changing his own strategy, the only other option was to make the opposing side weaker. It was a skill that did have some hope of reapplication in the times to come.

He knocked her wooden desk with his knuckles. “See, and that’s why I came to you first. Thank you. You’ve given me a good foundation for me to ask the others about.”

“Hold on. You’re sure this… bizarre endeavor will stop Gerechtigkeit?” Elenore asked. “It’s important we be timely. I’ve started to make arrangements for some of the god’s agents to come and restore order—well, the gods that I trust, at the very least. Law’s Justiciars are already working to uphold it in the most badly-affected areas. But things are getting worse, day-by-day. Time was, we could stop suicide pacts before they’d even formed. But they keep growing and numbers, and they’re starting to throw themselves upon either our soldiers or their blades in numbers we can no longer realistically prevent.”

“Provided I can win…” Argrave nodded. “It’s as good as done.”

“Then beat his damned ass for me.” Elenore sat back down. “And shut the door on your way out. I’m busy enough as is.”

Argrave made to leave, a faint smile on his face. Before he could…

“Sophia keeps asking to see you,” Elenore called out as he opened the door slightly. When he looked back, her gray eyes met his own. “Might not hurt to pay her a visit. Boost that resolve, remind yourself what you’re fighting to protect.”

Argrave gave a steady nod, agreeing. Last time they’d spoken, Argrave had said that Sophia was like a daughter to him. Then, he’d gone out to get some smokes with Jaray. It was overdue to end that. And at her mention of people he wanted to protect, he already had some inspiration for what might weaken Raven.

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Argrave consulted the others about what he might do to win the fight against Raven. They had much the same thoughts that Elenore did, yet they added their own refinements that fit their character. Galamon in particular had the most poignant insight.

“Even if it hurts, fight again, and lose,” he’d instructed Argrave. “Learn how to fight against him without the weakness. Lose battle after battle, skirmish after skirmish, yet win the war.” The old Veidimen commander grabbed Argrave’s shoulder as he imparted his advice seriously. “It’s what I’ve done. I’ve suffered humiliating defeats more times than I can count. I’ve never lost a war, though. That’s key.”

And after he’d gotten enough advice to cram his head full of tactics he might employ, he took Elenore’s advice and paid a visit to Sophia. He didn’t waste any time filling her head full of any nonsense about duty and Griffin, but instead affirmed what he’d already told her—that he intended them to be a family, and that nothing would change that. It was nice to take that moment, yet in the back of Argrave’s head, he couldn’t shake the fact that the Heralds and Gerechtigkeit both would bear witness to this scene.

But after all the advice was heard and all the consultations were had, Argrave inevitably had to throw himself back in the wringer. He did as Galamon suggested, enduring the unabated wrath of the soul that had survived the Smiling Raven. The second time was every bit as painful as the first, despite the fact that Argrave was preparing for its arrival. Time and time again, Argrave and all the forces his imagination could conjure were wiped out, and the confrontation was capped with a single world from Raven.

“Return.”

After that came a return to the mortal world, a brutal assessment of Argrave’s resistance, and some time alone for him to recover at the nightmares that had battered against him. Each break from the soul battles felt woefully insufficient. He visited with his family to rebuild his resolve, but there was a mounting pressure in the back of his head that told him he needed to hurry and overcome this obstacle so that he could protect the people from the enemy assailing their very souls. Elenore’s continued reports that things were worsening did little to cut back on that mental pressure.

After so many brutal, cutting attempts at beating Raven, Argrave’s mindscape transformed from the idyllic city it had been to a warzone filled with fortifications and machines of war. That transformation wasn’t without merit, however, because progress was actually made on each attempt. Before, Raven’s assault had seemed like nothing more than a fell explosion emanating outward from his body that rocked everything in its path without logic or reason. But even the nightmares could be made into something comprehensible, something beatable. So long as he never admitted victory was impossible, it wasn’t.

In time, the fortifications became able to redirect and block the nightmares, and their bullets were empowered enough to cleave through Raven’s attacks. Argrave first thought it was some sort of genius adaptation on his part. Raven disagreed, claiming it was only a symptom of his soul growing hardened and more resilient.

After what felt like an eternity of Raven battering Argrave with all manner of horrible abominations, they finally had what Argrave might dare call a real battle. In a minute-long exchange of firepower, his soldiers managed to cut enough of a hole in the relentless wave of chaos that they got a payload jam-packed with nuclear magic right onto Raven’s body. The resulting explosion burnt Argrave’s eyebrows right off… but it barely ruffled Raven’s feathers. Like a child fighting an adult, even once Argrave did land a hit, it didn’t amount to much.

Even with that good sign, Argrave stuck steadfastly to the strategy that Galamon had suggested. He held back his weakening blow for the right moment, keeping that ace in his sleeve to pull one over on the opposition when he was all-in. At first his advantage seemed like a fluke, because he was unable to replicate it. In time, however, Argrave managed to not only repeat his blow, but repeat it consistently, attempt after attempt.

Yet even when Argrave earned a hit… it didn’t harm a damn feather on Raven’s body. In time, as Argrave earned more and more hits without achieving any significant damage, he started to get an inkling in his head.

If I just weakened him here…

If Raven himself was just a little softer…

If I turned the tables, it would at least be equal, right?

I’m holding my ground. If I just pull the card out of my sleeve, it’ll all work out.

Eventually, Argrave became unable to argue against these points. This battle would always be close—it wouldn’t ever be a sweeping victory. The longer that he waited, the more powerful Gerechtigkeit got, and the more souls he was able to bend to his will. Who’s to say that Gerechtigkeit wasn’t growing better and better at battles of the soul every second as well? He’d heard them speak—he would be preparing in the same way.

And so, even though Argrave had no certainty… on the dawn of one of his attempts, something clicked in his head, and he felt instinctively that it was his time to play his hand for all that it was worth. Argrave stood in his command center, encased in a bunker, staring at countless monitors that fed him video footage of the battlefield. Despite the modern technology of the monitors, there was an old-fashioned radio before him, with a mic just beside it.

“Raven.” Argrave picked up and spoke into the mic. He could hear his own voice sounding out from countless speakers outside. “Before we start this round, there’s something we should discuss.”

“I fail to see what,” Raven answered, his voice coming through the radio in front of Argrave in a somewhat static manner.

Through the monitor, Argrave stared at his face embedded in the Smiling Raven’s chest. He began somberly, “I spoke to the people whose lives you saved.”

“What?” Raven said, confused.

“They’re walking out, now,” Argrave continued, watching them move through the streets in his monitor. “Even when you had become the creature displayed before me… even when you’d lost all your wits, and succumbed to the Smiling Raven… some part of you remained. And it saved these people.”

Hause, goddess of potential, walked to the front of the streets. Following soon after her were countless of her followers—countless people that had once known Raven when he was still called that. Most prominently, there was Sonia, a woman who he’d once loved.

“Even in the depths of potentiation, your compassion persisted. Your genuine love of these people saved their lives,” Argrave said seriously. “You preserved them. You protected them from the evils that would possess, use, and abuse them. You kept them safe from the Smiling Raven and Erlebnis both. And when I told them that you yet lived… do you know what they said?”

The people that Argrave had summoned forth began to repeat what they’d said to Argrave when he told them Raven yet lived, one after another. He put the mic down as their words reached Raven’s ear. He heard none of what they said; he only saw how it affected Raven through the camera. Meanwhile, Argrave walked to another area in his command center—specifically, the area that controlled the weapons. He flipped switch after switch, pressed button after button, issued command after command…

With a devastating salvo prepared, Argrave jogged back to the mic, taking it in hand. He saw Sonia, Raven’s former lover, saying the words that she had.

When she had finally finished, only then did Argrave say, “So, let’s kill the Smiling Raven. And let’s be done with this farce of who you are.”

Firepower rocked the world—hails of bullets, bombs, and spells, all moving through the air with far more speed than they possessed in reality. The first volley hit, and the monitors that Argrave watched became bright white as blinding light erupted from the countless explosions. Argrave’s eyes strained… and when finally the scene became clearer, his heart leapt with satisfaction when he saw the Smiling Raven bleeding. Not merely bleeding—one of its wings had been battered, stripped, cut down to the bone.

With another volley of fire soon to come, Argrave watched the scene with hope in his chest. His soldiers crossed the boundary of his mindscape to Raven’s, encroaching upon his territory for the first time. Victory felt just around the corner.

Then… that face, buried deep inside the black bird’s body, erupted forth. Raven abandoned the carcass of the Smiling Raven, taking humanoid form and forgoing raw power to carry out a skillful yet primal rush. Argrave saw a figure dancing through countless monitors until he heard a terrible crash, and the fortified bunker to the command center burst open.

Raven towered over Argrave, having torn into the bunker with his bare hands. In response to the assault, Argrave sent forth a vast array of blood magic in an attempt to defend himself. Raven’s arms reached out, sweeping all of the magic up like it was merely cotton. His two giant hands closed around Argrave, and then darkness came. For a moment, Argrave thought Raven might genuinely destroy his soul…

Then Argrave opened his eyes, and they were again in the obsidian lab. Raven had wrapped one hand around Argrave’s neck, and held him suspended. They were in the physical realm once more, Argrave’s soul returned to his body.

“You had no right to tell them I lived,” he said, true anger in his icy voice. “No right at all.”

Argrave sent out one of his blood echoes, swapping places with it. The moment he could breathe again, he said, “Maybe they had the right to know! Maybe they deserved to know!”

“Who are you to decide that?!” He took three steps forward.

Argrave straightened his posture. “You’re shaken that they don’t all hate you—admit it. You’re not half the damn monster you think you are, Raven, or half of the one you act like. You got dealt an awful hand, and you still did better than most anyone could’ve.” Argrave pointed to his heart with his thumb. “Even me, who you make a damned golden statue of.”

Raven stared at Argrave with his gray eyes, eerily still. He offered no feedback for the fight—he merely turned and walked away, his steps heavy and hard. When he’d left, Argrave sunk to the floor, frustrated and defeated. He sat there for a long while, sorely regretting having blown his chance.

“Blew your chance?”

Argrave looked up just in time to see Lorena walk in the room. She had her arms behind her back and walked with a light-footed saunter.

“Maybe,” Argrave conceded. “He had a phase two. Wasn’t expecting that.”

“A phase two?” She thought for a beat, but before Argrave could answer, continued, “I think I get the meaning. There’s no surprise he’s more than the Smiling Raven, though—Sonia and Hause were a big, pivotal part of his life, but he’s lived lifetimes since. Mentioning that alone won’t wear him down enough to win.” Lorena sat on the table he was typically operated on, coiling her tail around her waist.

Argrave was surprised she grasped everything so quickly—as Raven said, she was rather smart.

Lorena raised her hand, then effortlessly created a ward that encircled them to block listeners. “Want some help?”

“What, a tag-team?” Argrave chuckled.

“No, some advice.” She ran her hand across her tail. “I know Raven pretty well.”

“How?” Argrave narrowed his eyes. “You were on the moon before he was born.”

“Because I’ve been watching him for a long, long while.” Lorena smiled, almost sadly. “I… pity him, I suppose. But I also respect and admire him, and many things in between.”

“You’ve been watching him,” Argrave repeated. “Why?”

“All of my people were watching him when the Smiling Raven came to being,” Lorena continued. “They stopped watching him, one-by-one, as he secluded himself in research and dedicated himself largely to the task of fighting against Gerechtigkeit.” She tapped her chest. “I never did.”

“You spent your free time peeping on a twenty-foot-tall monster doing all manner of dubiously ethical experiments?” Argrave raised his brows. “I’m not sure who’s weirder—you or him.”

“Me, obviously.” Lorena laughed, then grew serious. “But you’re wrong. I don’t think he’s a monster.”

“Poor choice of words,” Argrave agreed. “Still… why watch him?”

Lorena sighed, as if the question weighed on her too. “Honestly… a part of it was living vicariously through him. He possesses the same shapeshifting abilities that we once did. He was like one of us, returned to the world. I wanted that.” She paused, then said more passionately, “I wanted that, very badly, in whatever form.”

Argrave stared at her bright eyes as they expressed countless unfathomable emotions.

“Along the way, I saw him reinvent himself. From Raven…” She held up her hand, and it turned gray. “…to the Alchemist.” When she described the Alchemist, the hand shifted to black, as though it were decaying. “It was very sad to watch him kill himself like that. Now, at least in part, I’d like to help him. And in doing so, I’ll help you.”
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Volume 8 is now out on Amazon.
Paperback is a little delayed as I wait for an artwork change for the back cover. Shouldn't be too long, but it's out of my hands, sadly.