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.

victory rather than one of hubris lies in the forces behind it.” The Alchemist waved his hand across

of meat vaguely resembling a head with a mouth possessing far too many teeth. It had two eyes but they were not in alignment, as

by what you did in the Bloodwoods,” the Alchemist said, picking up the obsidian

“Divine politics,” Anneliese repeated.

Fellhorn’s desire for control of all water, Kirel Qircassia’s bid

fate of Vasquer.” Argrave stepped to the table and grabbed

Alchemist’s voice retaliated sharply, cracking like a whip. “This is not about your kingdom. This involves the

he had no issue letting go of this idea. ‘No gods, no masters’ was a good slogan, but the reality remained that Argrave was one man. Even with a kingdom at his beck and call, he had to bend with the wind. At least this way, he could enter on his own terms, and

in. The snow

Alchemist continued. “Not all are like those elven gods. Some are so far removed from mortality that communication is impossible. Their servants might fulfill that role. In other cases…

an elaborate idol depicting a woman clothed in fur—Veid herself. “I doubt she could be called upon to help with theft, however. But she can earn us a place at the

and examined the crafted statue with some

his hands together. “Tricksters, thieves, charlatans, magicians, lovers, war masters, scholars, and seers… they watch you like wolves, waiting for opportunity. If the forces of the world permitted it, they would stalk you every second, propositioning you. But they are bound to their shrines, and this is a relatively godless continent. There are little more than local spirits scattered

didn’t have much rebuttal.

piece he held down, twisting it. “Shouldn’t I be… well, rather unappealing, if I’ve

an outcome as ostracization. And the key point of your conflict is this: you dealt Kirel a grievous blow. Another god fragmented his realm.” The Alchemist reached

to Anneliese, seeking her counsel, but she seemed to be in agreement with the Alchemist on first glance.

back. “And what about you? Why aren’t you

good indicator he was somewhat angry, Argrave suspected. Then, he said very slowly and deliberately,

me?” Argrave held his hand out. “I

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