Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 141

In the alleyways of Sethia, someone crawled away on their knees, veritably pulling themselves forward using the walls. They pushed aside rubble, heaving, then eventually collapsed against a building, breathless.

“Haah… haah,” the man breathed. Covered in grime, dust, and sand, the man was entirely nude. He was ridiculously skinny, appearing both dehydrated and starved. His hair and eyes were brown. His skin was the color of copper.

If any of the residents of the city saw him, they would know he was unmistakably the Lord of Copper.

Brium did not consider himself a fool. He knew when he had lost a battle. His enemies waited beyond, letting the elves tear at him like wolves hunting a lion. All of his allies were vanquished. His death was inevitable. As such, rather than perish, he elected to commit the only cardinal sin for Vessels of Fellhorn—severing his connection with the ancient god.

Two Vessels before Brium had done such a thing. It was an abominable act, and all who had done it had died miserably. Brium was no more than a mortal man, now. He looked much older than he once did—near forty, his true age. He was weak, friendless, and surrounded by people hostile to him. But he was alive, and that alone was sufficient.

After having caught his breath, he tried to rise to his feet. Something stopped him from doing so. Brium raised his head up, only to see a man in plate armor holding a boot to his shoulder.

Boarmask stood there. His namesake, the boar helmet, was badly dented. Part of the mock boar’s eye was caved in. His armor had been ripped asunder in many places, and even now, the man was bleeding.

“Planning an escape?” Boarmask questioned. “You aren’t why I’m stalking these streets. But the world must consider itself fortunate that I was watching. A tyrant such as you cannot escape judgement.”

Brium raised his hand up. He opened his mouth, but his tongue was dry, and he could form no words. Boarmask raised his mace up. Light fell onto his helmet, revealing a blue eye as cold as the deep sea.

“Reap the misery you have sown.”

Boarmask’s mace descended. After a second, the man pulled away his foot and mace both.

“Gods above, nurture these souls I send to you, wicked though they may be,” Boarmask prayed as he cleaned his mace. “There is one more I must send to meet you. I beg of you—watch over me, and ensure I walk the righteous path.”

Boarmask limped into the alleyway, where Titus’ voice grew ever louder.

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Now that Titus had brought his plan into light, many of the oddities and inconsistencies throughout their journey started to make sense to Argrave.

elven war relics could be found was in Malgeridum, deep within a cordoned section of the mines. Titus presumably found them there. The revolt was likely a distraction to move them—and it would explain

Since he knew much about Durran and the tribals, he had likely been the intermediary between them and Brium. He was near certainly the Lord of Copper’s primary agent in this coup, influencing guards and population

a variation between fiction and reality? Was it a set of coincidences, one after another? Had Argrave

stepped into the square where the victors gathered, listening to Titus. Blue eels sparked and swirled around him dramatically. His Brumesingers flanked him, filling the air with their mysterious fog as they sung their chiming song. Following behind was Anneliese, Galamon, the southron elves. Everyone noticed their

they must be seen—and Argrave

loudest spell that they knew. It

of the lords of this city are dead and gone! The Lord of Gold, slain by her own people! The Lord of Silver, felled by my hand!” Argrave revealed the silver inheritance medallion—it was a ceremonial thing, and so easily recognizable. “And lastly, the Lord

sort of friendly welcome Argrave hoped to receive, that they might be more receptive to further direction. Durran turned his gaze

not provide Durran with any weaponry whatsoever.” Argrave stepped forward, standing atop rubble to reach a higher place. “I brought the elves into this struggle for independence—no one else!” Argrave waved Florimund up to where

as he came to join them. “We provided no weaponry to the people here. We were aware of the coming

a member of the crowd shouted. “The

to scrape and bow for the sake of protection?” Argrave countered quickly, anticipating Titus’ men might try

matter. Yet how can any trust Durran?” Titus shouted out. “The tribals know he was the one to discover

discredits me by naming me foreigner, Argrave deduced quickly. “If none know of this collaboration besides the

tribal,” Titus replied quickly.

spoken against the elves earlier rose, almost in cue. “Aye! Titus has kept in contact with us. He suffered underneath the reign of the Vessels, fighting

that he is the one who armed men with elven war relics as Durran,”

voices within a crowd made itself known. A mob was a volatile thing—humans are reasonable creatures, by and large, but within a crowd, one can

Titus even was, but the crowd soon

rang his bell and made to speak, but

simply no proof in this matter! A proper judgement

holding a man by the neck. “I captured this man. He had these,” he explained, holding out arrows that had

at the unexpected

us, gave us all our plans!” the

be booed, but a silence did take over the

beaten—he’d say anything!” Titus refuted, and his men planted in the crowd

Galamon muttered, stepping up to him.

nodded, feeling a

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