Chapter 687: Inaction Begets Action (Patreon)

Though Argrave searched very hard for a clever solution to the god of time’s influence, he could find nothing. Neither the records of the past contained in Erlebnis’ wiki nor the happenings of the present gave any indication about how they might cripple the power of time. In the end, Argrave turned to Margrave Reinhardt’s force for aid. He requested the margrave punch a hole large enough in their forces to allow Argrave to strike at the god of time without risk of dying himself. Reinhardt, who’d ever been a loyal servant, agreed, despite the heavy toll it’d undoubtedly take on attacking forces.

His force of knights, partially supported by a few lesser gods, plunged back into battle against the terrifying force of assassins and berserkers as archers of all stripes bore down on them relentlessly. Argrave provided the same support several other spellcasters were, warding away the marksmen as best he could. It frustrated him immeasurably to be so unable to employ his power. The fight was dreadfully slow, and the whole while Argrave could only think of the clock ticking down on various other segments of the battlefield.

In the end, though, Reinhardt made good on his promise to provide an opportunity to attack. Seizing on it, Argrave pressed toward the center of their formation, fighting back the small few assassins and berserkers Reinhardt hadn’t distracted with the overwhelming power of his blood magic alone. Had he and Anneliese not built up reserves of vitality before this day, this would’ve been impossible. What he found was not at all like he expected. After eviscerating the countless guards with little more than a wave of his hand and a devastating pulse of blood magic, he found the source—a coffin. He threw it open to strike at the god of time.

This god, so high and mighty, was unconscious, pierced in a thousand different places by bizarre black needles. The needles pulsed in and out of his body, rejected in one moment and then forced back in the second. The deity frothed at the mouth and spasmed, clearly in agony. Looking around, Argrave could see that his healing roughly coincided with the needles. His divinity and its effects seemed to be manifesting by instinct rather than choice. It was a barbaric sight, but nothing that he wasn’t used to.

It did, however, suggest that this god of time wasn’t a willing participant.

Under different circumstances, Argrave might’ve tried to save this man and win another ally. With the margrave’s men dying all around, however, Argrave callously conjured a blade of his black blood and jammed it into the man lying in the coffin. It passed through easy, cutting him in twain moments before his body burst into spirits. Argrave finally felt new vitality, absent for so long, restored in bulk.

Finally freed of previous restrictions, Argrave rose into the air with the spell of flight [Absolute Movement] and began what he’d intended to do here in the first place. Spells composed of his black blood rained upon the enemy, and the margrave prudently disengaged as had been discussed long in advance. Every area that they fled from soon became destruction incarnate. The damage that Argrave had once caused using the Blessing of Supersession couldn’t even be compared to what he was capable of now.

Dark red lightning struck from storm clouds of fire that swept across the plains of the margravate, blown and twisted by malevolent winds that allowed no escape. The enemy hadn’t been a true threat to him before, but now that he could fight without worry of draining his and Anneliese’s shared vitality, he made that fact known. Argrave only stopped when he felt no more vitality coming from their demises—after all, that meant that nothing was alive. The trampled grass field they’d been fighting on moments before looked like nothing more than a spent fire—coals and hot embers alone. Even the corpses of the margrave’s knights had been reduced to nothing. He pitied their families, but he couldn’t afford to act on that pity.

This battle was over, but others remained. Though things had seemed to pass by in a moment, Argrave knew that he’d been stuck here quite a long while. He looked back at the Lionsun Castle, only to widen his eyes at the huge curtain of water bearing down upon it. The eastern mountains had been entirely buried beneath a wave of water that crawled forth like a slug—and just looking at it, Argrave could tell it’d be more than enough to flood the entire city of Parbon. The people knew it, too—they fled in droves, both from the castle and the city. He didn’t know how Durran had fought against this, but then his people had more experience against Fellhorn and his Vessels.

Argrave soared through the air, [Absolute Movement] still active. As he did, the water’s sluglike movements slowed before stopping altogether. Like invisible strings had been cut, gravity started to act upon the water again. It collapsed down upon the mountain, and with the help of the gods shepherding the water, entire peaks broke off. The mountain began cascading down in a devastatingly loud and horrifying landslide.

In one moment, Argrave could see the Lionsun Castle in a valley, standing tall above the city. In only a few moments after, city and castle both were buried beneath clouds of dust, rubble, and water. Thousands of people who only had time enough to leave their homes witnessed everything they owned buried in less than a minute.

But for all that managed to evacuate, just as many likely didn’t have time enough.

Argrave saw Reinhardt storming ahead with all of his knights as if he could fight the landslide, while he himself came to an uneasy stop above the now-empty plains of the margravate. Elias, his sister Rose, his wife Ridia… Argrave couldn’t say if any had made it out. He’d given Elias warning. Perhaps the man had led the evacuation efforts.

Argrave tried to shake all the thoughts away, focusing instead on the gods who’d orchestrated this attack. Before he could…

“Argrave,” said Elenore. “Jaray is behind you.”

He whipped his head around, shocked to see that was the truth of the matter. He sat on a disturbed rock in the midst of the carnage that Argrave had caused with his magic, sitting and smoking while looking up at Argrave.

“Law’s won,” Elenore continued. “We’re winning. Anneliese destroyed Almazora, and some unexpected allies have joined us. Durran’s going to hunt down Fellhorn with Stout Heart Swan. Despite all of that, Jaray is here. Lorena says she’s never seen him fight, not even once. I think that’s cause for caution.”

“I’ll be careful,” Argrave promised as he landed on the ground, ceasing [Absolute Movement].

Argrave prepared blood-imbued [Wind Eels] as he walked forward, positioning them in the air both for offense and defense, if need be. He called out, “If the god of politics is here, can I expect some kind of offer?”

“You’re winning, by all appearances,” Jaray answered. “Why would you come to the negotiation table? Besides, both of us have gone beyond the point of no return. You just saw a city buried. I doubt you’re in the mood.”

Proving his point, Argrave quickly cast a lightning spell to probe his foe. It struck Jaray’s shoulder, and he jerked back slightly. Beyond that… nothing. Argrave felt nothing at all.

“Awfully cautious of me.” Jaray brushed off his struck shoulder. “Lorena’s likely told you that she’s never seen me fight. There’s a very good reason for that, and it’s the only reason I came here. The fact is, I’ve never been in a fight. Not when I was a mortal, and not once when I became divine.”

To verify his results, Argrave struck again with another lightning bolt. It hit Jaray right in the eye. Though his head did jolt back slightly, Argrave once again felt no vitality flowing through him and saw no change from Jaray.

“When I was mortal, I didn’t fight by choice. I found it all rather beneath me. It was a lot easier to talk other people into doing the things I needed than to do them myself. Bring people together, give them both what they need by connecting them to help each other, and then they both want to help you.” Jaray blew smoke. “It always amazed me what people would pay for convenience. In gold… or blood.”

Argrave bridged the gap, grabbing a sword discarded on the ground. He raised it high and swung it at Jaray’s head. The thing bounced back, shaking from the force of his powerful blow… but not a hair on Jaray’s body was harmed.

“Now, it’s not my choice whether or not I fight.” Jaray looked up at Argrave. “I can’t act upon the world, yet nor can it act upon me. This is the way I like it. I think we’d both agree that my influence hasn’t waned.”

Argrave tried to grab his throat and choke him, but Jaray merely pulled away slightly, and his neck was free. He rose off the rock he sat upon. Argrave tried to wrap his arms around the god, only to find himself repelled by something incomprehensible. Even a blast of pure blood magic shattered upon contact with Jaray’s body.

Argrave flinched as the sky split in the wake of what seemed like a comet. In less than half a second Lorena was above them all as a great dragon. Her gigantic tail slammed down upon Jaray. His head bent slightly beneath the weight, while the ground all around him cracked from the force… but again, nothing happened.

“Is this what they gave you?!” Lorena shouted, shifting to human form. She landed just beside him, towering above.

“Lorena,” he greeted amicably. “No, the Heralds didn’t give me this. I’ve always had it.” He looked back to Argrave. “Shall we talk, king, about where things go from here?”

“This is just a cheap trick,” Argrave pointed out. “It doesn’t change anything. You’ll vanish alongside all the other gods once we’re done. And I don’t have time for this.”

Argrave made to leave, but Jaray said, “Shall I speak to your sister, instead? I can head to Blackgard. It’d be nice to visit in-person. The third alternative, well…” Jaray smoked from his pipe again, blowing an O. “There’s no need to show you all my cards, but you should know my hand is still relatively full. And you still have cities upon cities to protect… or lose.”