Argrave stared at the torrents of sludgy liquid metal pour down, illuminating their surroundings with some emitted light. He looked up at the Alchemist.n/)o.-v.(e)/l--b)-1(-n
“Looks like... you did it,” he said, breathing heavily. “Just in time for the second phase.”
“I should be surprised that you did it. Your role was always my concern,” the Alchemist said cooly. Hands emerged from his body, running over each of them and casting healing magic. Orion was so badly injured that healing magic alone would not restore him to fighting condition—only time regenerating with his own blessings would cure his ills.
Argrave looked back at Hause and her court of mortal servants. They gave their party a cautious distance, acting more as temporary allies in misery than fellow participants in this heist. He didn’t know what her being here meant—either for this fight, or for the distant future. But they had succeeded. A challenge remained. Namely, getting the hell out of this place.
The Keeper walked across the top of the flowing liquid, and neither Mozzahr nor Argrave made to fight with this new arrival. They were like animals snarling at each other—even though they knew a conflict was inevitable, it still came with consequences that forced caution from both of them.
“You came into our home, bringing along a foul and monstrous mortal whose strength could be likened to a god’s,” the Keeper said contemptuously. “You killed hundreds of our emissaries, destroyed a Lodestar of the Annals of the Universe, and stole its power. You entered this vault, putting an end to creatures that have been alive longer than any of you. Have you any idea what it took to entrap those dragons? Do you know what Erlebnis surrendered to earn the fealty of the King of Beasts?”
“Ruining your home was part of the plan.” Argrave slowly rose to his feet, still feeling unimaginably drained. He didn’t think he could muster casting another Domain of Law. The Blessing of Supersession left him not too long after Mozzahr’s attack, and he’d been forced away from the old domain when the vault crumbled around them. He was dangerously low on blood echoes—perhaps thirty remained.
“You’ve almost entirely destroyed this Museum of Artifacts within the Magic Wing,” the Keeper continued, walking closer. “And along the way, you... you and the Alchemist, have pilfered a collection we collected over millennia,” he said, shaking his head. “But... none of that matters. Because this only ends two ways.”
“Victory or defeat. That’s how I always wanted it,” Argrave nodded.
“No,” the Keeper laughed. “You can submit to eternal servitude, or you can die here, forgotten. You will be relegated to a small footnote in history—an accident analogous to a freak housefire. Either way, by freeing Hause... we don’t think it’ll be a net loss. We can finally utilize her abilities.”
Anneliese rose to her feet, coming to stand behind Argrave. “This conversation repeats time and time again, does it not?” He eyed her injuries, and she gave him a reassuring smile. She was pale from her wounds, even though they’d been sealed by magic. “They say we have no hope of victory. We disagree. And then, we win. Am I correct?”
“True enough,” Durran agreed, using a divine artifact fashioned as a spear to rise to his feet. “Cut him some slack. He’s knowledgeable, but it’s clear creativity can’t be learned. All Erlebnis can do is learn what other people discovered, then hoard it and trade it.”
“Let’s just focus on fucking living, yeah? No time for talk.” Melanie insisted, standing shakily. Orion agreed, and with Argrave’s support, rose to his feet.
The Keeper stared. Though his jaw did not move, his voice echoed in Argrave’s head. “In this realm, I can speak into your mind. But my brother... what do you think he can do?”
The Alchemist slammed his dimmed gray spear on the ground. “He begins mental warfare. Be ready! Resist that which consumes your mind, and forget not your place in reality. He will attack both your mind and our bodies. There will be no reprieve, no rest. I will lead us away from this place. When we are in safety, come to me. I will use [Worldstrider] to take us away.”
Argrave swallowed nervously. Mental warfare from a god... this would not be easy to overcome. Argrave had drained much of the god’s power by being struck while using the Blessing of Supersession and the Inerrant Cloak in tandem, but the fact remained that Erlebnis was a deity, and this was his realm. Even if they bested him, he could not truly die here. He was immortal in every sense of the word.
“We will follow,” confirmed Hause. “If you would cut a path through Erlebnis, I will guard our rear.” Argrave had so much to ask of her, but for now he could only be glad she was cooperating.
The Alchemist hunched over, his body trembling. Arms burst free from his back one after another, making grotesque noises as they spread to their full length. He brandished the weapons of the divine in each hand—swords, spears, all of it. The arms were flaccid and limp at first, but they slowly shifted and burst with muscle. The Alchemist lifted his head up, mouth wide open and teeth gnashing together. Then, his head was subsumed into the rest of him as he fully slipped into a form made for nothing more than war. And then... he stepped toward the pool of liquid metal. It all shifted, and then rose up to meet him.
Argrave prepared to follow... but he was consumed by darkness.
You seek creativity, do you? A question surfaced in his mind—not the Keeper’s voice, and not his own... indeed, he could discern nothing about this voice, not even what it sounded like.
Then, Argrave stood atop a tower. He looked around furiously, then recognition dawned on him—this was the roof of one of the towers of the Dragon Palace in Dirracha. His heart beat, sounding like a great bass drum in his ear. In mental warfare... there’s always a chance at victory. He held his hand to his heart, doing his best to ignore it, then stepped to the edge and looked down. He spotted a tall, spiny tower, and followed it down.
The tower... it was a finger. A gigantic purple humanoid stood under him, its hand holding the tower in its palm. It was a Shadowlander. The moment Argrave recognized this its fingers clenched, crushing the tower. Argrave’s eyes widened, and then he climbed atop the railing and jumped to the roof of the Dragon Palace. He ran along, and the impossibly gargantuan Shadowlander rose up.
It chased after him with a belltower in its hand, the bell still attached. It swung at him like a maniac, and each time the bell struck the Dragon Palace, it rung out in an ominous grandeur as the building crumbled away. Purple lightning struck all around him as he ran. When the roof ended, the great snake Vasquer’s body rose out, forming a pathway for him that ascended to the heavens. He sprinted along the feathered snake’s back, following it away and away as the Shadowlander continued to swing its belltower in a beautiful yet eerie song.
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