The Guardian gods-Chapter 519

Zarvok raised his glass again, grinning. "Spoken like a man who’s sure of the board. Let’s hope the pieces agree."

"You seem confident," Zarvok said, swirling his glass.

Ikenga nodded without hesitation. "Indeed I am. The pieces are already in motion. Give it a few more years, and a crack will appear in the Empire’s foundation. I believe that crack is exactly the opportunity you’ve been waiting for."

Zarvok leaned back slightly, eyes gleaming with amusement as he casually uttered, "The ratmen."

Ikenga’s gaze flicked toward him, sharp and brief. Their eyes locked, silence hanging heavy between them for a moment.

"It seems," Ikenga said evenly, "you have some idea of the broader layout."

"I wouldn’t say I know," Zarvok replied, flashing a sly smile, "but I have my guesses. And if they’re right, then Your Highness may have unknowingly nudged the Empire onto a path of self-destruction."

Ikenga didn’t respond immediately. He looked down at the wine in his hand, the reflection of candlelight flickering in the dark liquid. The silence that followed wasn’t defensive—it was thoughtful, calculating. He realized then that there were gaps in his knowledge, blind spots even he hadn’t accounted for.

It seems I should spend more time in Zarvok’s library, he thought to himself, lips pressing into a faint line.

Zarvok watched him closely but said nothing, letting the moment simmer. It was enough to know he’d struck something real—if not a nerve, then at least a point of intrigue.

Zarvok spoke up, his tone shifting with an unusual blend of respect and hesitation. "I have a few personal matters I would like to bring before Your Grace."

Ikenga raised a brow, his interest piqued. "And what would those be?"

A flicker of something passed through Zarvok’s eyes—recognition, respect, and perhaps a glimmer of calculated ambition. "Your Highness battled three of the Empire’s top mages... and returned with nothing but a few scars—and a handful of trophies."

He leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping lightly against the table’s polished surface. "I happen to have a particular interest in those trophies. I believe they could serve a significant role in the hand I’m preparing."

He fell quiet then, watching Ikenga closely.

Ikenga, hearing the word trophies, thought back to the battle—specifically, to the severed head and the three sixth-tier souls he had claimed and passed to Keles. Souls of that caliber were exceedingly rare, even in their original world. For the goddess of death herself, such specimens were priceless. In this world, though... there were cracks, exploits—ways to capture that which should not be captured.

"You do know," Ikenga said slowly, his voice calm but firm, "that those trophies now rest in Lady Keles’ care?"

Zarvok offered a knowing nod, his smile thin. "I had assumed as much. Which is why I bring it up to you first."

Ikenga studied him, swirling his wine once more. "If it were anything else, I might have indulged you. But those particular items... are not so easily reclaimed."

Zarvok’s grin didn’t falter. "I never said reclaimed, my lord. Only... negotiated."

Zarvok continued, his tone more pointed now. "No matter what Lady Keles intends to do with those souls, I doubt they’ll translate into direct power for her. Meanwhile, for demons like us... souls are sustenance. And one so rare could bring about enormous growth."

He leaned back, folding his hands in front of him. "I have a few trusted followers on the cusp of advancement. With even a fraction of those souls, they could break through into the next tier."

Ikenga gave a slow, understanding nod, then asked with cool curiosity, "I see. But tell me, Zarvok—why would you expect Keles or I to simply hand you something that would only increase your strength and status?"

Zarvok let out a low sigh and lifted his drink, taking a slow sip before answering. "To tell you the truth, Your Grace... I don’t. This request is less about desire and more about necessity. I’m forced to bring it up—because of what I anticipate your next move will be."

Ikenga’s brow rose at that, an edge of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Oh?"

Zarvok gave a knowing smile, a hint of sharpness behind it. "You hid your movements well before the invasion began. The Abyss is vast, yes—but it speaks to those who listen. And if one pays enough attention, patterns emerge."

He tapped a claw lightly against the rim of his cup. "You may have cloaked your motives, but your silence was louder than most. The timing. The choice of battlefield. The way the Empire bent—not broke. It told me enough about you."

Ikenga said nothing at first, merely staring at the smaller demon, who even in his impish form exuded the poise of something much greater. A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes.

"So, tell me then," Ikenga said smoothly. "What is it you believe I’m planning?"

Zarvok smiled, toothy and deliberate. "That... depends. Would you prefer I ask my question now—or after we’ve poured another round?"

Ikenga stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

Zarvok pressed on, voice calm but weighted "Your Highness has shown a vested interest in the growth of a particular wingless gargoyle. I’ve been watching... as has Lady Vorenza. It came as a surprise to us both when you made the calculated decision to publicly abandon your investment."

He let the words settle, then leaned forward slightly "Still, someone of your stature rarely moves without reason. Your earlier interest... your subtle interventions... they made his ascent far too smooth to be coincidence. And now, that gargoyle stands as the third powerhouse in this abyssal layer. A force—unwinged or not—backed by disciplined demons whose strength has only grown thanks to the opportunities this invasion brought." frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Zarvok’s voice dropped lower "Which is why I cannot allow the souls you acquired to fall into his hands. Especially not now."

Ikenga’s gaze sharpened, but he remained composed.

"The balance here is delicate," Zarvok continued. "Power is finely distributed—just enough tension to hold us in check, but not enough to tip us into chaos. Giving that gargoyle what he needs to breach the sixth tier would shatter that balance. And that, Your Grace, serves none of us."

He sat back, wine glass untouched now, his tone steady but edged with finality "This is not a plea for charity. It is a warning... and a request for prudence."

Ikenga finally spoke, his tone low and thoughtful "I see. So the request isn’t truly for you—it’s to prevent him from rising."

Zarvok offered a nod. "Exactly. We both know the cost of letting the wrong creature ascend at the wrong time. And whatever your reasons for stepping back from him... I trust you’ve not lost your foresight."

Ikenga swirled his wine, glancing at the deep crimson liquid before murmuring "You’ve been watching closely, Zarvok."

"Always," Zarvok said with a polite smile. "As any proper host should."

Ikenga leaned back into his seat, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I have no reason to hide my previous intentions with the gargoyle."

Zarvok raised a brow, intrigued.

"This was a plan born from our first meeting," Ikenga continued. "You left quite the impression, Zarvok—enough to make me reevaluate my understanding of the abyss. You said something then... something that stuck with me: ’The abyss rewards those who defy its will.’ That idea—bold, almost heretical—lingered."

He paused, swirling his wine.

"I saw the lay of the land. The abyss had positioned you and Vorenza as its two favored contenders for dominion. So I thought to myself... why not introduce a third? A piece the abyss hadn’t accounted for. Someone cut from another cloth. The gargoyle—wingless, scorned, but hungry—fit the role perfectly."

Zarvok’s voice came gently, though not without edge "Then why did you stop?"

Ikenga chuckled softly, eyes half-lidded with reflection "I won’t bore you with the details. But the truth is... I realized I may have overreached. I fancied myself clever—clever enough to outmaneuver the abyss itself. But the deeper I looked, the more I understood just how ancient, how unfathomable it truly is."

He took a slow sip of wine before continuing.

"And I detest being a piece in someone else’s game. If the abyss was already playing me, then backing out was the only intelligent move left."

Zarvok gave a long, contemplative nod "You chose restraint. That’s rare among your kind."

Ikenga smirked "No, I chose survival."

Zarvok leaned forward, placing his cup down with deliberate calm "Then you understand why I can’t sit idle while those souls remain with Lady Keles. Regardless of your retreat from that gambit, the gargoyle still stands... and grows."

Ikenga’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes hardened slightly "You assume Keles and I intends to hand them over to him."

"I assume nothing," Zarvok replied smoothly. "But I prepare for every possibility. She is the goddess of death. Her curiosity may blind her to implications that don’t concern her experiments."

Ikenga tilted his head. "So you’d rather they serve your consolidation of power?"

Zarvok didn’t flinch. "Better that than destabilize a delicate balance."