Chapter 364: No Man Is an Island

Argrave waded through the thick, viscous blood flooding the underground altar. He’d thought going through the wetlands of northwestern Vasquer had been torturous, but to walk through heavy red blood was far more unpleasant. Fortunately, the source was not too far from them.

Ahead, there was a circular rock wreathed in roots. The blood flowed down the plant life almost artfully, yet it all began from the stone. The rock was unadorned and unmarked, yet blood flowed in three places. With two side and by side, and one coming out from a crescent between and below… the simple, circular rock looked like a face bleeding from its eyes and mouth.

“Ganbaatar and Orion—I think you’ve already agreed to come. As for the rest of you… what do you think? Who wants to go?”

Artur had elected to use his enchanted mantle to hover above the blood once again. He asked tentatively, “Will you hold it against me if I decline, Your Majesty?”

“If I did, I’d never say that,” Argrave shrugged.

“Then I think that I will take my chances and gracefully decline,” Artur tipped his head. “So long as the opportunity is open, of course.”

“I’m of a like mind,” Mina said. “I like being ignorant of the divine… and if it’s not the divine and you’re wrong, I like staying out of whatever you intend to stick your hand into.”

Vasilisa stepped forward to join Argrave. “Whatever. I’ll go,” she told Argrave, fully committed to this endeavor even despite her crassness.

Nikoletta stepped forward, too, though offered no commentary. Argrave raised a surprised brow but didn’t intend to dissuade her. She and Mina exchanged some urgent and muttered words, and then the two parted.

“Right then,” Argrave nodded, turning back to the bleeding-face stone. “I suggest the rest of you back away a far distance, lest you get caught.”

They backed away obediently from the shrine Argrave stood before. Back at the other shrines, those four separate—and far more numerous—groups would be taking much simpler actions. Gods of other realms could be called upon using collective will and intricate knowledge alone. That method could be likened to lighting a fuse. Here, though… Argrave simply intended to light the bomb personally.

He retrieved Fellhorn’s inheritance medallion and held it up to the bleeding-face stone. Orion handed him the next items—a mallet and stake. The Veidimen had used these to make their tents, but Argrave had a different purpose for them here. He secured the medallion in place with the stake, feeling a deep sense of nervousness regarding what he was about to do. In Heroes of Berendar, items with divinity like this inheritance medallion could be destroyed before the shrines of deities. That was the sole way the player had to interact with many of the other realms.

He was fairly certain this would work… but if his method was incorrect, he’d anger Fellhorn for no good reason and look a fool before plenty of important people. But he’d been both a fool and a king, and the two had their ups and down. He pushed the spike against the silver medallion, pulled the hammer back, and pounded. On the first, it bent. On the second, it sunk in deep. And on the third…

A loud clang ran out as the medallion snapped in half. The noise was far too loud for what had been done, and the two pieces of the medallion tumbled down while releasing black smoke, before plopping into the blood at Argrave’s feet. It hissed audibly, and slowly… the inanimate liquid began to bubble, churn, as though boiling. No, it didn’t seem to be boiling. It was. Argrave lifted his feet up as he felt a burning.

A great hand formed of blood pushed up beneath them, sending them into the air. Argrave saw five spirits in each of the hand’s fingers and knew then that he could resist if he so wished as he had done with Onychinusa and her shamanic magic. But now… now, he didn’t care to. The great hand’s fingers clenched, almost as though to crush them. And then they were elsewhere.

#####

Argrave heard a loud, deep rumbling noise echoing across the land, almost like a foghorn. He could feel it through his whole body. It shook the metaphorical cage around his head, and it was only after a few seconds that he remembered to open his eyes.

As far as the eye could see, a great red ocean twisted and cast waves upon the shore just as the real ocean might have. The sight brought back memories, and he urgently turned his head about as he remembered what he’d been doing. Orion, Ganbaatar, Vasilisa, and Nikoletta had all come with him. They looked around in panic. They were on an island of some kind—a tropical island, perhaps, though the trees had bark that looked like flesh and the flat, wide leaves were red and veiny. He might’ve called this a hellscape, yet the bright blue skies gave life to the grim place it sorely needed.

“Take it easy. Don’t do anything stupid,” Argrave told them at once. “We’re in the land of the elven gods, now. Most specifically, in Chiteng’s section of it.”

The deep horn split the air once again, shaking the very earth they stood on. It seemed louder this time. Everyone turned their head towards it source. And when they saw it…

“My…” Nikoletta trailed off, stepping away in fear.

Ganbaatar knelt down in the sand, lowering his head in deference. Orion walked to the shore, staring ahead in protective defiance. Vasilisa took her place by Argrave’s side. And as for him… he simply beheld Chiteng.

Deep in the heart of the ocean of blood, a blocky throne stood strong, rising from the deep. It was made of rich, radiant ivory, and tall as a mountain besides. It had to be tall to accommodate the giant elven figure resting upon it. Like all of the wood elves, he had blonde hair and red eyes. Garbed in only a crimson robe, Chiteng slouched on his throne decadently… or decrepitly. His limp arms seemed to be the only thing stopping him from sliding further down, and his feet were hit by high waves all too often. Still, his eyes… they saw. He was alive, without question.

A whale swam away from the throne, every so often rearing above the surface and letting out that haunting call that sounded all too similar to a foghorn. It seemed made of the same ivory as that throne, yet still it swam without issue, coming closer and closer and sounding louder and louder. As Argrave saw the size of it, he wondered if it was the cause of every wave in that vast ocean.

“Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale…” Argrave said as awe and fear both seized his heart. He stepped ahead as its horn call dominated all thought, standing at the shore with Orion.

“Your Majesty… be careful,” Orion cautioned, but Argrave only waved him away.

It became abundantly clear as it approached that Chiteng’s whale was far larger than the island they stood on. When it came close enough, its great horn call stopped, and its ceaseless swim forward slowed so that it might land harmlessly by the shore.

Eventually, it settled by the island, its great broad head looming over them all. Up close, despite its terrifying nature… it had a beauty to it, Argrave couldn’t deny. It looked more like a marble sculpture than a living creature, yet it moved and bobbed with the waves every bit as alive as any whale he’d seen.

The whale waited, and waited, and waited. Argrave knew what had to be done, it was simply about mustering himself up to the task. Gradually, he swallowed. “I offered the spirits from the ancient god Fellhorn as a gift. My hope is that it aids you in the years to come, as Gerechtigkeit descends upon this earth.”

No response came from the whale. It floated there, its great tail barely moving behind it as it waited.

“I hope to ask of Chiteng two boons. The first… I believe it wholly amenable. In this realm of the elven gods, the forces permeating here rejuvenate the body, making death a difficult prospect. I hope that I can enjoy the benefits of this realm as I ascend to A-rank.”

The whale didn’t move… but Argrave saw from people’s reactions that Chiteng, the distant god, did. He could not see past the whale, but he stepped aside and craned his neck just as the giant elf slammed his fist upon his throne. The ocean began to rumble, and a door rose up, settling along the shore.

Argrave stared at the door, then looked back at the wall. “…I’m assuming you’re telling me I can leave when I like.”

There was no answer in return. Argrave supposed that so long as he didn’t receive a clear refusal, the answer was yes.

“I thank you for your grace,” Argrave dipped his head. “Then… for the other matter. I ask that you forgive my hubris, but I must make a suggestion to you and the other gods of this realm,” Argrave said delicately, leaving pause for a blunt refusal. When none came, Argrave continued. “My subordinates travel to the other ancient altars, rousing each of your family in kind. My hope… my hope is that you will accept my direction in the conquest of another god already laying waste to your worshippers’ homeland, and further unite my kingdom and the elven society against the true threat.” Argrave finished quickly, lowering his head in deference.

From afar, a deep, guttural laugh echoed throughout the land, louder than even the whale’s horn call. Chiteng laughed, he realized. The god sounded amused, like a child had said something funny because of its ignorance. Argrave kept his head bowed and lowered, hoping that amusement did not spell anger. The gargantuan whale backed away from the shore, sinking deep into the ocean and fading away into redness.

It’s over. He won’t hear me out. Despair crept into Argrave’s chest. Yet then… the whale pushed against the shore, moving aside the sand with its broad head as it crept towards Argrave. It seemed liable to split the entire island, and Argrave took a step back in fear. Orion grabbed Argrave, prepared for anything. Yet the whale settled before them, waiting.

Argrave stared down at the whale, expecting further movement at any time. His breathing was a bit quick. When he looked up, the elven god he saw was vastly different from the one he’d seen moments ago. He was still slouched, yet his hand had moved to his temple, and he tapped his finger and stared… expectantly, Argrave realized. Impatiently.

Once he realized what was asked of him, Argrave exhaled loudly, gathering himself. He tried to step forward, but Orion stopped him.

“What are you doing?” the prince asked urgently.

“Let go, Orion,” Argrave directed with a calm he did not feel inside.

Ordered so blatantly, Orion obeyed. Argrave stepped atop the whale, feeling its dense blubber beneath his boots. Just as it began to rumble… the prince joined him atop its broad head.

“Are you sure?” Argrave asked him.

“I must protect you,” Orion confirmed. “You are my brother.”

With that, the whale slowly backed away from the shore, keeping its body as level and steady as any cruise ship. Slowly, slowly, it rose up out the water, turned, and began to swim towards Chiteng. The elven god of flesh and blood waited, his red eyes fixed upon the two of them.