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chapter-595

Zen was quite certain that Argrave had lost his mind.

First, it started with the name mix-up. He thought that Argrave was calling him Ji Meng as some sort of joke or pointed barb, but as time carried on, it became painfully obvious that Argrave genuinely thought his name was Ji Meng. Argrave carried himself with such force and confidence that it was difficult to even consider correcting him.

Second, as they explored this strange realm—the Stormfield, as he called it, and as Zen had come to accept—Argrave often retreated into itself. He would stop speaking for a few minutes at a time, making strange hand movements that might’ve been spasms. When he was finished, he would emerge from this state acting as though he knew everything, like he’d just seen some vision that told them everything they needed to know about the situation. For instance…

“Do you know what this place is?” Argrave asked. He’d been standing on the top of a high peak overlooking the vast plateau of stone for the past hour, yet then suddenly he opened his eyes again and asked that question. In that time, Zen had studied their surroundings on his lonesome. The terrain was very familiar, but much of it was blocked out beneath the haze of the purple sky above.

Zen shook his head. “No. I mean, I think it’s familiar, but I can’t say for—”

“It’s a Phillensian Soul Model. According to everything I’m reading, it wasn’t copied from its inventor. The Emperor of the Great Chu must’ve developed it independently, centuries before Phillen ever did. A genius man indeed. And unlike the Phillensian Soul Model, it’s using our blood as the conduit to our souls. Meaning, to enter and leave the model… the person doesn’t need to perish. And like I suspected, the strength and amount of the blood in question determines the power the soul is capable of exerting.”

Zen nodded as if anything Argrave said made sense. He’d studied the Stormfield, but had heard nothing about Soul Models or ever heard the name Phillen.

“So, what’s the plan?” Zen questioned.

“This place is a model of the whole mountain that the Palace of Heaven is based atop of,” Argrave explained with extreme confidence. “It’s a model without the gates, without everything—just land and sky. I suspect under ordinary circumstances, we’d see everything we don’t—the buildings and all those within them. We’d be able to control the Stormfield—be a hidden hand of god, dominating the battlefield. But with all of our blood mixing into the vessel, and with none of us submitting to one another, the Stormfield isn’t functioning quite right.”

“Right. That’s a sensible deduction,” Zen agreed, not quite sure what he was agreeing to. It sounded right, but how could Argrave know this?

“So, we have to kill every last bit of Sataistador, or make him submit—but I think we both know that’s not likely.” Argrave stroked his chin. “And once that all happens, we’ll have the whole might of the Stormfield at our disposal. The hand of god.” He looked at Zen. “I’m going to give you control of it. And then, we’re going to do Sataistador like he was done before. We’re going to break him. And this time, he’s not going to be getting back up.”

“I’m not sure what it is I’m agreeing to,” Zen finally admitted, sensing that he was being called upon to do something dangerous.

“It’s simple.” Argrave put his hand on Zen’s shoulder. “Have you ever heard of a battle between souls?”

“That’s the domain of necromancy.” Zen narrowed his eyes.

“Not necessarily. Don’t be narrow-minded, Ji Meng.” Argrave shook his head like he was disappointed. “In a battle of souls, you can conjure whatever your mind can imagine. It’s a straight-up slugging match of willpower. A Phillensian Soul Model is similar, but it has certain dictates imposed. So—once Sataistador is out of the picture, you’ll be subject to those dictates. Namely, you’ll be bestowed with the ability to use the Stormfield to your whims. Then, you’ll put an end to all of our enemies. Simple enough?”

Zen thought it did sound simple enough, but he wasn’t entirely sure how Argrave had come to any of these conclusions. Still, he gave a cautious nod. “But you said to do that, we have to kill Sataistador. What gives you any confidence we can do that?”

“Like I said—the strength of the blood is proportionate to the strength that the soul can exert in the model.” Argrave tapped his temple. “I came prepared. Do you know what it’s like to have unlimited magic power?”

“By magic, you mean vital force?”

“I forget—you call it vital force.” Argrave shook his head. “Yes, unlimited vital force. Do you have any idea what’s that like? Because I do. I have a very good memory of what that’s like. I have experience using it, too. And since Almazora helped me out, it’s like the days when I had Erlebnis’ blessing.”

“Well, what’re you going to do with it?” Zen questioned, indulging him.

“I think I’m going to see if I can use S-rank spells.” Argrave tapped his temple. “It’s all in my head so clearly, it feels like I just need to reach out and grab it. I’ve been watching videos about it for what feels like days. I’ve got the itch, and I’ve got a rather nice testing ground.”

“I was told you’re an A-rank spellcaster.” Zen crossed his arms.

“Was. Now it all seems so obvious, so easy.” Argrave scratched his cheek, smiling. “What the hell is an army before absolute power? I suppose we’ll see. So—all this sound good, Ji Meng?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

And as the third bit of evidence that Argrave had lost his mind… he decided to face off against Sataistador, alone, while experimenting whether or not he was capable of casting S-rank spells.

“Yeah, it… sounds good,” Zen reluctantly consented, without much say in the matter.