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Jackal Among Snakeschapter 471: fantasy cancer

Argrave and all of his companions returned to the mortal realm, Hause’s court in tow. Their point of arrival was the place they had first entered from—namely, in the heart of the Ebon Cult’s territory. That was quickly remedied, as the Alchemist cast [Worldstrider] once more, taking them back to Blackgard. Argrave felt as though he was doing something wrong whenever he saw or heard something, and so he quickly disclosed what he’d seen to the Alchemist—namely, Erlebnis’ curse.

Naturally, it was a matter that demanded some attention. Argrave separated from everyone else, using Elenore as a conduit to speak to the others as the Alchemist examined him. He inquired about the results of the battle.

Despite the great length of time that they’d been absent, the fight still raged—though perhaps ‘raged’ was the wrong word. It was a constant probing skirmish, where Ebon Cult spellcasters tried their defenses and retreated when no opening could be found. Sieges could last weeks, even months, and they occupied the defensive position. The Ebon Cult seemed reluctant to assault fully without Mozzahr’s aid. Still, it would need to be wrapped up with as little bloodshed as possible, ideally.

But just as the heist, this battle was largely a success. It would take a miracle for the Ebon Cult to regain the advantage without Mozzahr. That was the failing of a cult—without the one person holding it all together, it crumbled.

With that matter shelved for now, Argrave focused on the curse that Erlebnis had levied. They were in the Alchemist’s temporary obsidian abode atop the mountain, entirely sealed off from the world. Argrave sat on a cold obsidian table, feeling like he was at the doctor’s once more. The Alchemist stood over Argrave, reviewing the books he’d composed when the monstrous figure had first examined his body completely. He hoped they would be of some use.

“…so, what will you do now that Hause’s back?” Argrave questioned.

“She doesn’t know me,” the Alchemist said coldly. “That’s a question for you to answer. She can be a very valuable tool, and she owes you. Make good use of her. She can change the tide of everything, including our struggle against Gerechtigkeit.”

“She doesn’t know you?” Argrave repeated.

“She was present in my life for less than one percent of its existence,” he looked down at Argrave. “Yes. She doesn’t know me.”

Argrave grew silent as he tried to divine how old the Alchemist was from that information. His head started to hurt, and he instead thought back on other things.

“So, Anneliese said that your—"

“You’ve just been told that someone hears everything you hear, and yet you won’t shut up,” the Alchemist leaned over Argrave menacingly. “Wait. For. Me. To. Finish.”

Argrave knew he was babbling so much only because he was nervous, but the ever-constant disdain that the Alchemist showed grounded him for a moment. He waited there, trying to think of anything that might distract him from things. But nothing came.

“This cloak…” the Alchemist touched it, rubbing it between his fingers. “It drew out large quantities of Erlebnis’ power from the Blessing of Supersession, yes?”

“It did,” Argrave confirmed.

The Alchemist looked at the books again. “Vast quantities of Erlebnis’ power entered into your body. It is reasonable that he would be able to enact something like this. And just as the Keeper said, I believe I can see it. What he did… he blessed you. Or rather, he enhanced the blessing he’d already given you.”

Argrave scoffed. “Enhanced?”

“You forget that babbling fool you brought me. He was ‘blessed.’ It’s only terminology.” The Alchemist shut the book, and Argrave realized after a few moments he was talking about Ingo. “You can use the Blessing of Supersession whenever you want. But when you do, I suspect he would be able to enhance his ability to perceive your body. The Keeper didn’t lie. Much.”

Argrave blinked, considering the implications of this. After a time, he refocused. “I watched you disassemble and reassemble me like I was a toy soldier,” Argrave pointed at him. “Tell me you can get rid of this.”

“It’s… annoying,” the Alchemist said, shaking his head.

“Damn,” Argrave lowered his head.

“I said it was annoying, not that I couldn’t do it, imbecile.” The Alchemist set his book aside. “The curse is just needlessly complex. And it’s entwined with your soul—an undying soul. A rare thing, but I kept you ignorant about it because it can be used for—”

“Lichdom, yeah,” Argrave nodded, excited now that there was hope. “I’ve known that for a while. What about the curse?”

The Alchemist looked at Argrave for a few moments. “Well, that spares me time. You used your soul to anchor your blood echoes. Erlebnis used those conduits to support his curse. That’s why it’s annoying. I don’t know how someone as slow-witted as you managed to do something so… genius, but your A-rank ascension is very impressive. That you didn’t die on your attempt is astounding. If you failed, you’d vomit blood, bleed from eyes, et cetera. You’ve done that before, but practice doesn’t perfect everything. It is… an impressive achievement, what you did.”

Argrave smiled, deciding to completely ignore to mention the fact he’d used the elven realms to circumvent that whole ‘bleeding from the eyes’ part.

“What are my options?” Argrave pressed.

“Two. I’d prefer to destroy your magical pathways,” the Alchemist said. “Tear it all out, with the other blessing you bear alongside it. You would lose all progress. As compensation, I could give you the same thing that Durran has.”

“No,” Argrave refused at once. “Not a chance. I went through a lot of effort to get this.”

“Hmm,” the Alchemist nodded bitterly. “Then I suppose I… unravel it, ever so slowly, like the worst tangle in a rope imaginable. You would be in a vulnerable position for a long period of time—time I suspect Erlebnis would attempt to assassinate you. I can avoid that by taking you somewhere and encasing you in stone so that no identifying information might reach Erlebnis. By the end of it, you would be free of the curse, and the Blessing of Supersession with it.”

Hearing that, Argrave could only take a deep breath. He’d been trying to distance himself from the Blessing of Supersession, using it as a last resort rather than something that he would rely upon as heavily as he did in the past. As it turned out, that hadn’t been a fruitless thing—it was to be removed. It nonetheless was discouraging to have that emergency measure stripped away.

“How long are we talking?” Argrave asked.

“I suspect… that you would barely be able to make that meeting with Sataistador.”

“Over a month?” Argrave said in surprise. “That’s…!”

“Find someone who can do it better,” the Alchemist said slowly. “I hid my presence, and my capabilities, incredibly well. Now, I’ve given all of that up for this gambit of yours following a lead that amounts to ‘what if.’ The Keeper did not speak with such confidence for no reason. Under ordinary circumstances, it could never work. No one can do what I can. And being from where you are, you should know that,” he finished, speaking of Earth in vague terms.

Argrave might’ve cowered before, but he stared on and said, “I won’t act like you haven’t spent a lot. But don’t act like you’re not gaining anything from this. We’re allies.”

“A fair point,” the Alchemist conceded. “I imagine you’ll be going with the second choice.”

“Yeah, I will,” Argrave nodded. “But…”

“You have things to settle,” the Alchemist finished. “You have forty-eight hours to return, or I will leave you to your fate. While I treat you, I will be examining the information I collected, trying to piece together a coherent theory of attack against Gerechtigkeit. You will make yourself useful, and answer questions that I have.”

Argrave had thought that things weren’t turning out so bad, but it turned out Erlebnis’ punishment was far greater than he imagined. He would be trapped with the Alchemist, alone, for an entire month. He wouldn’t be able to speak with anyone besides the giant genocidal Raven and his sister. The second conversationalist would probably be the only thing keeping him sane. Unless…

“Can I train my magic while I’m there?” Argrave asked hopefully.

“I suppose,” the Alchemist shrugged.

“Then I have something you need to get,” Argrave smiled. ”It’s far in the north… and we only need a pinch.”

#####

“…I see,” Anneliese said calmly, the wind of the mountaintop blowing her hair slightly. They stood outside the Alchemist’s silver abode, Vasquer watching over them.

Argrave stared her in the eyes for a few moments. “You do?”

“It seems necessary,” she shook her head, then grabbed a thick stand of her hair to braid it idly—a nervous tick of hers, resurfacing after so long. “It will be painful to be apart for so long. But…” she trailed off.

Elenore’s voice cut into his mind, relaying, “Anneliese says, ‘there are other ways we can talk.’ By the gods… have I become a glorified messenger?”

“You’re right,” Argrave nodded. “Painful but necessary. It’s best if no one knows where I go. He’s going to encase me in stone and then transfer me somewhere. I won’t know where.”

“Prudent,” Anneliese nodded. “No telling how Erlebnis might locate you—the direction of the wind, the smells, et cetera. And… despite what we saw, I do trust the Alchemist.”

“Why?” he pressed curiously, though he didn’t disagree.

“He has been remarkably faithful. Not to mention he… well, he did a lot to protect those he cared for. We are bound by duty and alliance, too. I shall not speak the rest, lest unwanted listeners learn more than they should.”

Argrave guessed this was about what she mentioned earlier—the Alchemist’s ‘lifeforce,’ whatever that meant. She’d seemed touched by what he’d done, then, and trusted him more since.

“Right,” Argrave nodded. “While I’m gone… I’m naming you my regent. The excuse for my absence is to recover from the battle with Mozzahr.”

“Not entirely inaccurate,” Anneliese nodded. “We waste time. Orion should be healed by now, demigod that he is. Melanie and Durran have already headed down into the underground. Elenore tells me that their arrival has caused quite a stir amongst the cultists, as a few recognize them. If you appear personally, and Mozzahr remains absent… their morale will break utterly. From there, we negotiate their surrender. Mial, Mozzahr’s daughter, is already wavering. It would be a victory with as few casualties as possible. Oh, and…” she trailed off.

Elenore’s voice surfaced in his head. “We’ve established contact with the dwarven nation. As it turns out, Anestis’ father is a senator. He kept that detail private, but he appears to be cooperating for now.”

“Excellent,” Argrave said, both aloud and in his head. “Then… it’s time to end this war before it truly begins.”

Argrave walked away, coming to stand with Vasquer. The feathered serpent craned out, and he touched its snout.

“Had a strange dream… and you were in it,” Argrave said, and Vasquer sent over relief at his safe return. He only had one emotion to return to her—hope. Argrave hoped he was finally on track to put an end to all this madness sewn by Gerechtigkeit, now and forevermore. Only time would tell.