“Argrave has to die.”

Following that declaration, Jaray blew a puff of smoke from his mouth. He looked between countless gods arrayed here, who’d come either in-person or through emissaries. Following the tremendous display with the suns, doubts about the amiability of the newly-elected leader of the Blackgard Union had come into fruition in the form of this secret meeting. If Argrave would do something like that without consulting them, what more would he do? It was clear he didn’t have as much an interest in their opinion as he’d claimed.

“He’s gone to tremendous lengths to make sure that all of the cards remain in his hand,” Jaray continued. “When the final hand is dealt, and he alone decides what to do about the cycle of judgment, none of us will have any place remaining in his new order.”

“You claimed to me privately not a month ago that his efforts would lead to the end of all divinity,” one of the assembled gods noted. “The story’s a little different now.”

“I can’t prove it any longer.” Jaray shook his head. “I believe it, but the Heralds can’t back up my words. Their tongues have been cut off, effectively. Argrave decided that when he stole the souls of every living being and hid them away in his new sun. It’s emblematic of his intents toward all of us. To deprive without asking. To ‘help’ without consideration. Who’s to say what power he actually gained from it?”

“What are you suggesting?” another god questioned.

Jaray tipped his pipe, and ashes tumbled out. “Perhaps he can exert control as Gerechtigkeit intended to. Or perhaps, with just a thought, he could sever someone’s tie with their soul, killing them instantly. If either is true, he has all mortalkind in the palm of his hands. From rats to humans, cats to elves… in one fell swoop, he took it all. He can’t be allowed to do it again.”

“If he had any intention of cooperating, he could once again head to Law’s Court and explain himself. No—he remains in Blackgard, martialing his power, bringing every god and mortal that’s both loyal and powerful to prepare for Gerechtigkeit.” Another of the assembled wistfully shook their head. “If he intended to, he could’ve become a god long ago. That he hasn’t speaks of his intents. Argrave fights for the mortals alone.”

“Well said,” Jaray concurred. “But you mentioned a rather significant problem—one that’s the explanation for why I’ve brought us all here, rather overtly.” He raised his hand up. “Argrave remains in the heart of his power, building up more and more defenses around himself day by day. Some of the mortals surrounding him are nearly equal to gods in power, and even the gods are either too blindly trusting or simply don’t care about their own fate. Perhaps, idealistically, they believe their deaths would better serve this planet.”

“Ideals? We can’t have those,” a discontent-looking god said snidely.

Jaray inhaled deeply on his pipe, staring at the lone dissenter. “Any assassination will need to be exceedingly well-coordinated,” he continued. “To kill Argrave, both he and Anneliese need to be all but totally eviscerated. They share a divine power of a sorts which enables the both of them to survive off of the energy of everything. His blood magic burns through and absorbs anything’s essence—life force, magic, divine power, you name it—while Anneliese has an ability to distribute said essence. She can generally reinvigorate other’s supply of magic, but for Argrave, she can restore his body. They haven’t been idle in collecting an abundance of said essence. Any battle done with them will be devastatingly catastrophic.”

“That can’t be right,” one of the gods protested, leaning in. “That sort of power is absurd.”

“We’re talking about the pair that fought Sataistador, Erlebnis, and the Qircassian Coalition, and came out on top,” Jaray cut in quickly. “Not just that—the two that went to the Shadowlands, carved a path through it, and returned victorious, bringing back a powerful tool they employ even now to gain an advantage.”

“What tool?” Someone asked.

“Something that can bridge the Shadowlands and our realm,” Jaray answered smoothly. “Believe me or don’t—but all of you should know by now, I know things. Too many things. And I’ve helped all of you out, in one way or another, with that knowledge.”

The gods looked deeply conflicted, taking him at his words… but in time, it was clear that no protest would be brooked.

“Argrave has an undying soul. Even if we destroy his body down to the last particle, Anneliese can revive him.” Jaray walked around the assembled gods. “The same doesn’t hold true for Anneliese. Argrave can restore her by attacking something with his blood magic, true… but if she stays dead for a period longer than a few seconds, her soul will dissolve into nothingness. At that point, any essence he burns away won’t have a method of being redistributed. He’ll be vulnerable.”

“That’s the general plan.” One of the gods stood up from his seat, pacing around the room nervously. “But it doesn’t matter. We can’t get past the defenses he’s mustered. It was already heading that direction when it was established, but after the attack of that silver knight, Blackgard has become an impenetrable fortress. They’ve managed to recreate the protections of the Palace of Heaven.”

Silence and alarm spread through all present. They all looked to Jaray for answer.

“It’s true.” Jaray nodded. “And it’s something I’ve thought about plenty. Truth is, the Heralds haven’t been fully shut out. There’s one place where their voice can still be heard—and in that place, there’s one person that’s definitely listening.”

“Don’t be vague, Jaray, not now,” someone chided.

“It’s a place that the light of the sun’s never reached before,” he responded. “Argrave may have gained entry to the Shadowlands, but that certainly doesn’t mean he’s tamed them. It’s not perfect. As a matter of fact, it’s rather ramshackle. But we have a venue to coordinate. We have a force sufficient enough even Argrave’s defenses will be forced to move. All we need to be is ready.”

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