Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 443

Though Argrave had been captivated by the discovery of [Blood Infusion], the Alchemist’s suggestion of robbing Erlebnis of knowledge drew his attention unlike anything else before.

Argrave and Anneliese walked into the Alchemist’s temporary abode constructed by his Pawns, where the giant waited for them with stacks of books laid out without much reason. He seemed to take issue with this, for he scooped up the books with many hands conjured from his body and placed them inside the wall. Argrave was baffled at what, exactly, this place was constructed of. Was this obsidian, or something more?

“Was that idea of yours more than just that?” Argrave decided to ask bluntly.

The Alchemist did not look back as he said, “Mortals have stolen from gods before.”

“Those tales generally end in smiting the mortal in question,” Argrave rebutted, recalling well the stories of gods and their wrath.

Whether in his world or in Heroes of Berendar, some poor sap would steal the Super Sandals, the Awesome Armor, or the Magic Mantle. Afterward, the thief would suffer a curse ten thousand times worse than whatever meager benefit the items actually offered. It was a bad deal.

“These tales spread only because people don’t like to think they are responsible for their mediocrity.” The Alchemist turned around. “But we can steal from Erlebnis. And whatever knowledge he holds will undoubtedly be of more use than this upstart, Mozzahr.”

“How do you know we can steal from a god?” Argrave gestured toward him.

“Personal experience,” the Alchemist said coldly.

Silence followed after that declaration. As Argrave exchanged glances with Anneliese, the Alchemist extended his hand to the ground. He clenched his fingers as if molding clay, and then a table rose up to occupy the once-empty room.

a tale of victory rather than one of hubris lies in the forces behind it.” The Alchemist waved his hand across this newly-formed

teeth. It had two eyes but they were not in alignment, as though its face was melting

by what you did in the Bloodwoods,” the Alchemist said, picking up the obsidian king piece. Argrave was surprised he was so abreast of the news. “Enemies of enemies are friends. You

“Divine politics,” Anneliese repeated.

down the king piece, and eight others identical to it rose up from the obsidian table to form a circle. “Gods might seem incomprehensible. They have unknowable urges—Erlebnis’ thirst for knowledge, Fellhorn’s desire for control of all water, Kirel Qircassia’s bid to flatten the earth

to involve gods in the fate of Vasquer.” Argrave

sharply, cracking like a whip. “This is not about your kingdom. This involves the world itself. Abandon your insistence on self-reliance. This

good slogan, but the reality remained that Argrave was one man. Even with a kingdom at his beck

escorted Galamon in. The snow elf looked

all are like those elven gods. Some are so far removed from mortality that communication is impossible. Their servants might fulfill that

it morphed into an elaborate idol depicting a woman clothed in fur—Veid herself. “I doubt she could be

and examined the crafted statue with some

If the forces of the world permitted it, they would stalk you every second, propositioning you. But they are bound to

like that, but he didn’t have much rebuttal. It was true—he did intend

twisting it. “Shouldn’t I be… well, rather

of your conflict is this: you dealt Kirel a grievous blow. Another god fragmented his realm.” The Alchemist

deal closer with divinity almost as an inevitability, but he didn’t think the time would come so soon. He looked to Anneliese, seeking her counsel, but she seemed to be in agreement with the Alchemist on first glance. Galamon was simply awed and

looked back. “And what about you? Why

was somewhat angry, Argrave

Rules for thee, not for me?” Argrave held his hand out. “I get the merits,

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