Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 196

Argrave disliked looking at the bronze hand mirror. With something—or someone, rather—to find solace in, he didn’t need to use it for motivation much at all anymore. Now, though, the day had passed, and he stared down at its surface in the early morning light…

Traits: [Tall], [Black Blooded], [Intelligent], [Magic Affinity (High)], [Insomniac], [Blessing of Supersession (MAX)]

Skills: [Elemental Magic (C)], [Blood Magic (B)], [Healing Magic (C)], [Illusion Magic (C)], [Warding Magic(C)], [Druidic Magic (C)], [Inscription (E)], [Imbuing (E)]

Seeing that ‘B’ just beside blood magic made him feel quite satisfied. Unfortunately, Argrave had underestimated himself, and brought no B-rank spellbooks with him besides that for [Bloodfeud Bow]. He felt like he was wasting precious time that could be spent learning more and more B-rank spells, yet even still…

His rate of advancement was quite exceptional. Between his high magic affinity, his black blood, that [Intelligent] trait, and his own diligence in studying, maybe it was to be expected. He felt some fulfillment. His rate of advancement was not unprecedented, lore-wise, but it was quite fast.

Orion’s presence culled what might’ve been a seed of arrogance, though. With [Bloodfeud Bow], a single-projectile attack with the potential for power far outmatching near all spells, Argrave could seriously injure Orion now. That was assuming the ridiculous possibility the man would stand still and let him charge it for minutes, naturally. The Holy Fool could still crush him and all of his companions without much issue. Fighting him personally was a long way off.

Yet with B-rank magic at his hands… he could start planning for the future in earnest. His advancement to A-rank would be as significant as his visit to the Alchemist, he knew. A-rank was when a mage more closely integrated with magic—rather than merely using it, they would assimilate into it. It was a vague description, yet the innumerable processes to become A-rank were so varied that only a vagary sufficed for describing it.

Argrave stowed away the bronze hand mirror and rose, doing brief stretches before he emerged from the tent. Anneliese sat on a large root not too far away, cleaning and braiding her long white hair back in preparation for travel.

Anneliese turned her head towards him yet remained focused on her task. “Good morning.”

“Is it? I’m not so sure,” Argrave questioned, blinking his eyes as he raised his hands to his face.

“You are pale,” Anneliese noted as Argrave wiped away his tired eyes. He’d gotten a few hours of sleep, but his current state of fatigue made him question if he’d have been better off staying awake the whole night.

“I always have been,” he answered quickly.

“No. You had a healthy pallor not weeks ago, yet you keep…” she trailed off. “Why are you so pleased with yourself?”

Argrave’s subtle grin broadened into a smile. “You’re a good teacher—anyone ever tell you that?”

see now. You—you broke into B-rank with that blood

that’s the demerit,” Argrave brushed off the remark

through her half-braided white hair in frustration. “You complain when you are miserable, and yet you never… Why in the world do you never…” she sighed. “You will not use blood magic for the rest of this journey,” she commanded, planting a finger

he raised

a concession you must make for me. I will not bend on this matter,” she stated plainly, amber eyes fierce as he’d ever seen them. “You insisted that I remain inside at Jast for my

Then, he raised his hand and fixed her messy hair. “As long as it’s

pouted—a rare expression on her, and one Argrave found quite adorable. “If it is truly life or

Stay quiet about that while we’re here,” he whispered, looking around. Thankfully, neither him nor his Waxknights

a nod of apology. “Alright. But

costly. I suspect night will fall before I can

you,” she

only smiled in response, giving no verbal commitments. But in his head, those

#####

forehead. He was just out of sight of the Waxknights, who assembled around a campfire as they ate their rations.

Argrave tilted his head questioningly, and Orion confided immediately, “Another of my

“Vanished?” Argrave repeated.

during his watch,” Orion

rations and wrapped their waxpox-rife flesh in clean bandages.

“Deserted, or…?” Argrave mused.

grabbed his collar, and Argrave’s heart fell into his stomach. “Deserted? Why would you say such a thing?” the prince questioned

yet things are this challenging.

grip loosened on Argrave’s collar slowly, and the prince straightened. “Their flames must be stoked

morale is important, yes,” Argrave agreed, feeling a strange discomfort

word, Orion stepped to where they gathered. Their prince’s steady, determined approach

Orion began. “Three of our number have left us. They swore an oath to the royal family, and to the gods, to live and die for

“I have some things to say,” he said

speak, dear brother,”

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