Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 590

The Alchemist sprawled out on the cold stone plateau. All around, voices spoke.

“Law, instead of casting judgment on Raccomen and myself, could you judge what in the blazes is wrong with the kingling?”

The Alchemist turned his head, drawn from his stupor. There, Rook, with markedly bolstered confidence, stared upward at Law as the golden figure knelt down. An army of Justiciars approached. The Stormfield was dying, so they had no need to protect the army any longer.

“I will not forget this deception. But for now, I will put it aside.” Law split his body apart, and his golden aura enveloped his champion. “Erlebnis is dead. He cast no magic before he went—I sensed only the faintest tingle of his divinity. Yet…”

The Alchemist began to make sense of what had happened. The Ravenstone had been forged out of Erlebnis’ Blessing of Supersession, long ago. With the god himself perished, the Ravenstone broke, sending him out of its protection. Fortunately, the battle was over. The Alchemist, still a husk, slowly gathered himself. He reformed his body that he might stand, and rose.

Argrave had fallen to his knees. He stared upward at the sky, unblinking as he tremored. His eyes were spasming, alongside faint twitches in his fingers. Feeling some urgency, the Alchemist approached.

“Stand aside,” he ordered Law, whose aura prevented his further approach. “I will examine him.”

The gods regarded the Alchemist with some distaste, but they knew better than to argue. All of them were familiar with the Alchemist’s expertise and his constant presence in Argrave’s company. They watched as his gray eyes glowed green, scrutinizing Argrave. Of every human, the Alchemist knew Argrave’s form the best of any—he had performed countless operations on the man, and had spent weeks deconstructing his body. He’d even wrote books on the subject. Naturally, he could tell when something was wrong.

The Alchemist quickly identified several oddities—fever, sweating, confusion, and a seizure. Beyond the skin and bone, he caught an alarming factor immediately. “He has slight encephalitis… but that isn’t something I can simply ignore.”

“Encephalitis?” Raccomen repeated.

“His brain is swollen. It’s…” the Alchemist trailed off as he scrutinized the brain closer. He grabbed Argrave’s head, his fingers stretching around and piercing the skin subtly so as to see beyond. It wasn’t merely swollen—it was virtually on fire, a hub of activity. Given the circumstances, he quickly came to a conclusion about what was happening. “It’s adjusting to knowledge that Erlebnis bestowed.”

All the deities present said no more—from what Erlebnis had said, they could guess as much.

did when it was part of some deal, or when he stood to benefit—the man hoarded it

short… his brain is working on overdrive not to shatter. And even once it settles, Argrave’s mind could be forever changed. It might need to get rid of some things to make room for the new. One human mind wasn’t made to handle

saying he could forget some things?” Raccomen questioned

Languages. Motor skills.” The Alchemist looked around. “Something needs to be done. Quickly. I intend to do that, and you will

Alchemist. “Even if we have the Stormfield, I think it’s abundantly clear the god of war had other plans. We can’t stay here, guarding a lone king. We have to think of the

crossed his arms. “Sataistador remains the threat. We

the Blackgard Union,”

argue, but Law’s voice sounded out. “I will

turned to Argrave. He scrutinized the King of

been taken without permission. Report

while. Rook and Raccomen disappeared long ago, but eventually

“It can handle more of

that safe?” Law

Argrave’s eyes, adjusting his head.

you intend to try it

had given him years prior, bringing it forth to

Alchemist cut into Argrave’s face, starting just below the chin. He stuck the blade deep, deep. Once it was at its deepest, the Alchemist began to turn it counterclockwise. The blade zipped through, rising up the jaw, past the ear, around the top of the head, then back down. Having cut a perfect

he should

up,” the Alchemist interrupted the ancient god.

his fingers atop it… and then slowly began to sink in, as though pushing through water. Unpleasant squelching noises filled the air. The Alchemist took a deep, deep breath once his hand was far

fell upon him. Not knowledge—the Alchemist could handle that. One of the reasons he had long avoiding directly touching another’s mind was related to the Smiling Raven. To escape that beast, he had

with a mind that still had what the

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