Argrave stared at his hand as they drifted across the sea. Not his first or second, but his third hand. There was one small benefit to active ascensions over passive ascensions—the effects were immediate. Anneliese had needed to wait a few days, but Argrave already saw the fruits of his labor before him. It was quite a small and singular fruit—a faint dark red hand projected out from his own, so translucent it was invisible when placed before the red ocean the whale took them across. His entire body had this little echo, and it obeyed his will absolutely.

He waved his hand in front of his face. The echo followed his movements with a slight delay, fading like foggy breath into the air. Over time, this echo would draw from his blood just as the silver bracer on his arm did. Once it could bear no more, another echo would be born. And another, and another, and another, for all eternity. They were all bound to his soul, and his will alone directed them as he pleased. Everything was just as he’d hoped from his A-rank ascension.

An idea came to him as he saw the thrashing waves. He started to siphon a great deal of his blood into forming the echo quicker. It was painful, but he still had to make full use of the elven realm’s regenerative abilities to skim a little off the top before he returned to the mortal realm. The echo’s hand gained clarity, going from a faint red mist to what was almost a red shadow. Before long, he could no longer see through it.

“Given how you’re grinning, I can take it you’re satisfied with the results?”

Argrave looked back and down to see Nikoletta anxiously sitting on the whale’s back. His blood echo, without his will holding it separate from his body, fell back in place inside him. His cousin had elected to travel with Orion and Argrave this time to seek an audience before Chiteng. He didn’t know why she’d decided to do so, but he certainly couldn’t protest.

“Yeah,” Argrave nodded simply, not wishing to speak for long.

And that was no lie. He was very satisfied with the results—it felt like he’d just found some addictive new toy. Of course, he’d made the toy. And this toy was actively killing him, technically. Many things that were addictive did end up killing people, he supposed.

The blood echo suddenly gained enough of his essence to complete itself, and he felt as though it shifted back to another layer within his body as the next took formation. He projected them both from his body, one faint and forming and the other dense and shadowy, its maroon a bewitching color. It required intense concentration to manipulate both at the same time, like driving two cars at once. In time, they would be dozens, or hundreds even.

The whale they rode atop shifted, and Argrave’s attention was forcibly diverted as the creature made harbor at the ivory docks before Chiteng’s throne. He looked up to see the god of flesh and blood staring down at them. He wanted nothing more than to spend all of his time delving into the intricacies of his new advancement, but he couldn’t. Other matters demanded his attention.

Still… while I’m here, I’ll make as many of these babies as I can, test out if my undying soul really is the best anchor I could hope for.

Argrave watched Chiteng up above as he stepped back up on the harbor. The god stared down at them, dispassionate as ever. He waited on the harbor with his cousin and brother until he heard a faint stone click and lowered his head toward the noise’s direction.

The towering white door at the base of the throne slowly parted. An elven woman in a red dress walked outwards, her hands held before her in a dignified manner. Argrave waited patiently for her to approach, making no rash moves.

that red dress was quite similar in tone to the robe Chiteng wore, so he made some assumptions. He wasn’t sure enough to voice them, though,

Argrave. “My father will receive you

spared a glance upwards. “Might we speak here?”

no indication of pleasure or displeasure as she informed

was well used to dealing with people that needed to be given a lot of face—counts, dukes, margraves. Even now

“Lead on,” Argrave said.

Your Majesty?” Orion

alive later,” Argrave explained, then followed after the red-dressed elven woman as she walked away. “See? Now you just stand

the blue swordfish heraldry on her armor incidentally. “Be careful,” she called out

heavy doors, looking at the intricate carvings on them… and then into the holy temple beyond. He

of worship

had only one color supporting them—the deep, dark, and rich red of blood. The two were so starkly contrasting it was a little wondrous when he saw banners of red, carpets

so modest as to wear clothing, either. It was like a cult. He supposed religion was just a big cult, and this one didn’t necessarily seem depraved… indeed, they all

away into the crowd of worshippers, and Argrave turned his head back to see the white door shutting behind him. He looked up at what they all worshipped. An elven man sat in a throne sternly, wearing a vibrant red robe. From the look of him, Argrave supposed he was the

admire all you

“They’re pretty ladies. Handsome men, too, I guess, but I can’t judge that

is a falsehood,” the

but love disagrees,”

a man, just as all the men and women he’d seen weren’t elves. Each and every one of them were Chiteng’s servants. Supposedly, beautiful men and women that died before their time in honorable service to their

got to

been told,” the representative said. “We know His

treatment. “Dying isn’t particularly godlike. I wanted to try and stop that from

from the god sitting above them shook the house of worship. Argrave’s Brumesingers fell from his coat, looking up above and whining

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