Jackal Among Snakes

Ossian and Argrave did not enter the headquarters of the Order of the Rose without proper planning. What they intended to do was already established long beforehand, both offering some contributions based on experience.

For Ossian’s part, he knew how the Guardians would attack. They had all the reckless abandon of a locust plague—they had numbers, and knew well how to take advantage of them. Despite this, they were not unintelligent in their attacks. They had weapons bolted to the backs of their hands, and they knew how to use them effectively. They would lurk in corners or hang off ledges, waiting for an opportunity to capitalize on a mistake or simply surprise an unwitting wanderer.

Argrave knew simply that being encircled would be the least ideal situation, and the rough path that they needed to take. Beyond that, he left the strategizing to Ossian. The man was competent, and he could be trusted to see their plan to fruition despite his lack of trust in them.

The key in this situation was simply this—a burst forth. They would need to move quickly, never allowing the creatures to obtain an advantageous position.

Argrave took the first step forward, Galamon just beside him, sandwiched between him and Anneliese. They moved in a steady jog, heading across the balcony of the second floor that overlooked the central lobby towards the stairs. The spellcasters working with the Sentinels strove to light the place as best they could, uncaring about the attention attracted—they wanted to attract attention, at least somewhat.

Galamon served as the protector, warding off stray attacks from Guardians lurking in places unseen. Anneliese and Argrave served as the wedge to open a gap. Whenever a group of Guardians would block their advance, they would need to use magic to dispel them forcibly. Despite their fierceness, the Guardians were light compared to humans—a sufficiently powerful spell would knock them away. Fire, lightning, and wind elemental magic danced through the air, sending the creatures flying.

Their initial rush from the Menagerie to the stairs proved to be no issue. Yet as the sounds of the elements echoed out across the stone building, fell noises returned—metal grating against stone, flesh slapping against the ground… all signs the Guardians heard their advance and already moved to stop it.

Progress slowed at the stairs. The Guardians climbed up the side, thrusting at the three of them through the railings like wolves nipping at the heels as a pack. The Sentinels, though, moved forward with unity, pushing back against the tide that rose up the stairs. With their parties grouped closer together, Argrave proceeded further once again, careful not to stumble on the stairs.

Once Argrave’s feet stepped off the stairs and met the ground floor, he thought the anxiety might be relieved somewhat… but looking out across the room only stoked his unease ever higher. Despite the haste Argrave had endeavored to achieve, the creatures already pooled in the central lobby. Gleaming black and gold eyes moved towards them, so numerous they were uncountable.

“Gods be damned,” Ossian cursed, stepping up beside Argrave. “There’s too many. Cut our losses—we return to the Menagerie.”

“Fuck that,” Argrave disagreed, panic making his tongue crasser than normal. “I’ll carve a path.”

“What?!” Ossian said in disbelief.

“Didn’t want to use this at all,” Argrave shook his head. He gestured his hand backwards. “Don’t send anyone forward.”

Argrave triggered the Blessing of Supersession. It felt as though his whole being was being flooded, magic welling up from his chest like a spring freed from the rocks. Erratic thoughts about preserving his magic and minimizing his debt vanished to the wind, whisked away by the tornado of panic disturbing his guts. He stepped past Anneliese and Galamon, conjuring a B-rank ward with his enchanted ring to protect them from errant magic. With the central hallway in the distance in his mind, he held his hands out, spell matrixes forming.

out across the central lobby, sending debris and flesh every which way. The entire place became awash with spell light. The sheer sound, sight, and smell of it all consumed Argrave’s senses until nothing else occupied his thoughts. He sought out the creature’s black eyes as his targets, conjuring spells as an indiscriminate butcher. The sheer sense of power he felt in

like a giant drum. Spears of ice hurtled forth, meeting flesh or stone and shattering into a fine blue mist. The wind cut all it moved past, setting anything

his shoulder did Argrave remember himself. His ears rung, and he turned to see Anneliese mouthing

We have a

“Yeah. Yeah, right.

in the gods’ name are you?” Ossian spoke, looking out across the

soaked in sweat tight in his grip. He slowly gathered himself as the feeling of invincibility began to fade. If these are C-rank spells… the carnage I could wreak at A-rank? He briefly thought. Not even a minute had passed,

just in a hurry. Let’s go,

out into the central lobby, passing the sight of carnage. A strange quiet had settled over the place. As he stepped into the sight of his attacks, he felt the damage he’d caused directly—the heat beneath his feet, the

up easily on account of being

that led down, and Argrave caught

think my cardio got worse, actually,” he huffed. He looked back, watching the armored Sentinels still rush to catch up to them. “Alright, Garm. If this

thought enter your head,” Garm assured, breaking his silence from his place in Anneliese’s hands. Anneliese took the first few steps down the stairs. Argrave followed just behind, where ahead, he saw

door. “I will do mine. Your presence, now, is… well, overpowering. The magic within you…” it muttered. “I can hardly bear to look at

At once, a black, flower-like pattern bloomed across the door. It slid to the side. Someone had been leaning against the other side, and they fell backwards. Galamon mercilessly dispatched the

down the stairs, leading the other Stonepetal Sentinels. “Gods… it opened. The lower

you

can celebrate at a later date. Did you forget the next part?” Argrave pressed, almost having recovered his breath. His inhalations still felt shallow, and he felt some measure of

sliding back in place. It would likely not be sufficient for long term, but it was only to prevent the door from moving long enough to allow the

the stairs, watching the hallway beyond. “Plenty of Guardians coming, following the noise. We enter, lead

glibly to disguise his own unease, then stepped into the

his head around. Rather than simply being dark, it felt like light had not touched this place in a long while. It was mostly free of dust and dirt and had the same elaborate carvings as in this first floor. The hallway stretched on for a long

the hallway opened up into an open space. The room was massive, its ceiling stretching high into the air. It seemed split into halves—the front room was an administrative center, housing desks and reception areas that had long ago been repurposed to the vampire’s needs. The other half was blocked off by thick iron

across the room, abject terror in the voice unbefitting the vampire

said to Ossian. Despite his position as the Master Sentinel of the group, he did