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

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

guarantee it; he would deal with you all the same. But you have earned the animosity of the Qircassian Coalition 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 must enter the world of divine

“Divine politics,” Anneliese repeated.

Kirel Qircassia’s bid to flatten the earth to make way for his legions—but

Argrave stepped to the table and grabbed one of

abandoning that idea,” the Alchemist’s voice retaliated sharply, cracking like a whip. “This is not about your kingdom. This involves the world itself. Abandon your

and resisted advice that challenged his preconceived values, he had no issue letting go of this idea. ‘No gods, no masters’ was a good slogan, but the reality remained that

he turned a Pawn escorted Galamon in. The snow elf looked about cautiously, and then came to stand behind

a place in divine politics, you must speak for the divine,” the Alchemist continued. “Not all are like those elven gods. Some are so

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

examined the

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

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

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

Qircassian Coalition, meaning cooperation is near as likely 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

seeking her counsel, but she seemed to be in agreement with the Alchemist on first glance. Galamon was simply awed and touched by the idea that Veid was

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

he was somewhat angry, Argrave suspected. Then, he said very slowly and deliberately, “It will not

Argrave held his hand out. “I get the merits,

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