jackal-among-snakes-16091326
chapter-451

Argrave truly hadn’t known what to expect with Sataistador. When he thought of a god of war, he pictured the honorable general type, someone like Galamon—hard and brusque, one who talks harsh and short. He supposed the addendums of ‘chaos and ruthless destruction’ should’ve tipped his mind toward the direction of someone like Genghis Khan. He had tried to worm his way into disrupting Argrave’s plan, even despite the safety the White Planes offered.

And Melanie had been the one to pull them out of the fire.

He briefly thought himself careless, but upon seeing Melanie step away from Sataistador to stand by his side, adjusted that perception. Careless wasn’t the right word—he’d brought people that he trusted to the White Planes, where safety was assured for a cohesive party, and he’d only been proven right in his judgment. There was a reason Melanie was one of his favorite player characters.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t immensely grateful for Melanie’s choice. And not just her choice—her quick thinking in extracting information. He knew Sataistador was old, but had no idea he came from the first cycle of judgment. And she had brought him here, exposed that invaluable knowledge. Still, they’d leave ignorant of that fact if no accommodation was reached.

The White Planes are a double-edged shield, thought Argrave as he stared upon the giant war god. However that metaphor works. We could part ways here, and I’d go back to thinking Sataistador might possibly be a swell guy. I don’t want that.

But after hearing about Sataisdor conspiring to snake on him for Erlebnis, Argrave had no high hopes about a long-lasting alliance. At the same time, if Sataistador truly was from the first cycle of judgment, there was knowledge to be gained. His mind whirled, trying to think of something that couldbe made of this.

Argrave advanced. He had been around Orion and Galamon too much to be afraid of tall and wide muscle freaks. And considering Melanie wished to be looped in, he simply said, “Melanie is right. You died, Sataistador, where I’m from. You see, I played this game called Heroes of Berendar. And this reality we exist in was simulated within it repeatedly. But no matter the outcome, no matter the choices… you, Sataistador, were stomped beneath the boot of your opponent—Mozzahr.”

Anneliese and Galamon both looked at Argrave as though he was mad, but Melanie grinned a little wider.

“A tall tale. The weak do so love to talk when it has no consequence,” Sataistador shook his head. “You won’t remember offending me, and I won’t remember being offended. This is an exercise in futility.”

“So you are offended?” Melanie pointed out. “Well, so am I. I’m offended you thought I’d be so cheap.”

“We have nothing more to discuss,” the god of war said, rolling his shoulders as though preparing to leave.

“You can still benefit from this,” Argrave said. “And I’m big enough to let bygones be bygones.”

“I have no interest in you,” Sataistador said as he looked upon him coldly. “You’ve avoided war at every turn. Your only virtue is fighting battles you can’t win and coming out on top—admirable, I’ll admit, but I have no blessings to give, and I will not ally with someone I hold in contempt. Your continued charity will be your undoing.”

“I meant what I said, though,” Argrave stepped closer. “Mozzahr did beat you. He has such an advantage over you that you can’t ever come out on top.”

“Useless provocation will never turn my weapons against your foes,” Sataistador shook his head. “I have naught to prove.”

“What can I do to prove it to you?” Argrave spread his hands out. “Fact is, you have a fatal flaw. Mozzahr knows it. I know it.”

“Easy to say, wrapped in safety,” Sataistador glanced at the White Planes around them.

Argrave smiled, feeling cheeky. “Alright. Would you like to meet outside?”

Sataistador’s godly aspect stared for a few moments, without words for the first time in this conversation.

Melanie stepped up to him. “Hey, I didn’t mean for—”

“You want to meet me?” Sataistador asked, puzzled.

“Do you think I’m bluffing? Let’s meet in two months if you’re up to snuff. You’re probably not manifested yet, but that’ll change. You were never a part of my plans. I can change that. We can make a deal to meet in person. Hell, I’ll do it right now. You show up in two months, we continue this conversation,” Argrave pointed between himself and the god of war.

Anneliese asked cautiously, “Argrave, are you sure about…?”

Sataistador’s confusion deepened. “You would let me roam free with the knowledge I have?”

“I’m not stupid. I caught you with your hand in cookie jar, and the worst lesson you can teach a child is giving them a cookie they tried to steal,” Argrave wagged his finger. “If you want to keep your knowledge, we must form a pact that you never speak or act upon knowledge of our heist against Erlebnis. But you’d remember this conversation.”

Sataistador sighed in disappointment. “And I presume you wish for an assurance of your safety during our meeting outside of the White Planes.”

“No.” Argrave shook his head. Sataistador’s surprise was a good treat. “I don’t care whether you come to fight me or flatter me. Fight me, I’ll have spirits aplenty from your broken body. Flatter me… well, that depends on your ability.”

Sataistador crossed his arms. Silence existed in these endless White Planes as he considered his next words. “If you would invite the god of war to your home, there is an… expected outcome. Do you intend to persuade me to ally with you, have me stay my blades at the final juncture?”

“Don’t aggrandize yourself. You’re a god of war, not the god of war. Like I said, if you fight me, I’ll be flush with spirits, nothing more.” Argrave stared ahead coldly.

“I am the first god of war,” he said matter-of-factly. “And one still surviving after uncountable millennia. And you barely scraped through against Erlebnis,” Sataistador narrowed his eyes.

Argrave laughed. “You’re not him.” Sataistador was not pleased by the disparagement, and stared ahead at Argrave wordlessly. In the silence following, he continued, “Two months. We meet at Lake Dedsworth. You know where that is?”

“I can know. But I’ve agreed to nothing,” Sataistador shook his head.

“What did you want from Erlebnis, anyway?” Argrave questioned curiously. “I suppose it doesn’t matter—whatever you seek, it’ll be mine. I reckon the choice you have is this: sit down or step up. If I know you right, I can expect to see you on the lakeshore,” Argrave answered, not looking away from his target.

The only pervading noise was tense breathing as all parties waited for the deity’s answer. “Expect me there,” he said with a slow nod. “If this is the deal you intend to make, I can grant it. And as you wish, I shall not hinder this heist against Erlebnis, neither by action nor word.”

“Wonderful,” Argrave said.

“Could we get that in writing, you think?” Melanie asked a little sheepishly.

“But I will not forget what you’ve said here today. If you bluff, now would be the time to accept that embarrassment,” his green eyes glimmered with expectation. “And if you truly seek to meet me on your realm, shake my hand.”

The god of war held his hand out. It was gigantic, just like the rest of him. But as Argrave held his out to grasp it, he realized his own wasn’t so small by comparison. He felt a distinct shift in the air as their deal was recognized by the White Planes.

Sataistador huffed in amusement. “What to do with you…?”