Jackal Among Snakes

Elenore had absolute focus on the area where the Shadowlander had tumbled down the mountainous path to the Dragon Palace. Sumner’s men were hardened warriors, fiercely loyal, well-equipped, and prepared for what was to come—prepared enough to stake their lives. That dedication to a leader did not come easy.

And these factors working in tandem were the only reason they did not break against the Shadowlander immediately.

The moment the titanic creature of darkness landed on the streets, those stationed nearby leapt at it decisively even in their fear. Their blades—some enchanted, some simple steel—wobbled and shook when they met with the Shadowlander’s flesh as though they struck stone instead of meat. The weapons and enchantments did some damage, but the utter non-effect plainly demonstrated Orion’s superior stature to normal men.

The creature, stunned from the fall, came alive as it was attacked. It rose to its feet and swiped its too-long arms at the attackers. It was a motion no more complex than pushing away an annoying pet, yet powerful enough that all five knights took to the air, clashing into their comrades or meeting the stone walls of Dirracha. Despite the show of insurmountable prowess, those behind advanced—there was no moral gray in this battle, only honor and duty. And Sumner’s men rose to their task, shouting in defiance and slamming their boots upon the earth.

Elenore relayed its position to the duke but could do nothing more beyond that. She sighed a breath of relief when she noticed Galamon suspended higher up on the mountain cliff, if only because she knew his death would crush Argrave. Some of his bones were broken, yet he stubbornly clung to the mountain. Further up, within the Dragon Palace, she watched Argrave’s actions.

“Come on. Let’s go, Mary Poppins—use your magic boots to take me down,” Argrave demanded of Anneliese, clearly worried for his friend and the situation down below. “Anyone who has healing spells—work on getting Orion back to fighting shape,” he pointed beyond.

Orion crouched there. With his fight done, he barely managed to keep his eyes open. “I wear this pain as an honor, brother. Leave me. Go,” he said weakly, some blood in his mouth.

Argrave shook his head in disbelief at the prince’s words and looked to Vasilisa. “You used S-rank magic. I can’t expect you to do more than that. So, please stay here,” he told her.

The blonde woman knelt beside Orion. “I’ll keep your brother alive. Do whatever the hell you did back then with Margrave Ivan.”

“Read my mind,” Argrave nodded, then turned to Anneliese. “Let’s go,” he said, offering his hand.

Elenore watched as the two of them took a running start and leapt off the mountainous stretch of the Royal Road, her heart leaping just as they fell. Soon enough, Anneliese half-carried Argrave as the two of them relied on her enchanted boots that projected wind. Even as they fell daintily through the sky, the Shadowlander’s influence crept through the streets of Dirracha as hundreds of soldiers pressed against it. Though Sumner had managed to disperse most citizens, in the distant reaches of the city people panicked and fled for the tightly shut gates to the wall.

arms raged against it unabated, and it did not fall back—no, it was forced back. Though every swipe of its clawed hand tore through steel and flesh, and though it cleaved them in twain whenever it used its unnatural magic… Sumner’s troops proved their commitment to the kingdom of Vasquer

of blood took shape in his hand. Elenore had heard of this attack several times, but had never before seen it—[Bloodfeud Bow], it was called. Up ahead, all of the mages of Sumner’s force, the majority of his archers, and Sumner himself waited for the creature to come within striking

could be replaced. Argrave was not blind to this—panicked, he tried to step into a better position so as to force it into

emitted it nearly escaped her notice. Atop a building, almost opposite Argrave, a shadow manifested. Someone crawled out of it. It was someone Elenore remembered all too well—Traugott. His eyes scanned the scene. Then, he held his hand out. She could see his body light up with mobilized power, and then a great

quickly Elenore could not help

outwards like an unending deluge from a burst dam. As it took shape, a gargantuan claw raised above the scene. It craned, cracking and splintering mightily as all on the battlefield stared in awe

moment. The beast crumpled from the surprise attack. Just as suddenly as it had formed, the claw of ice pulled back, dragging an unbalanced Shadowlander straight into the city square. It rolled, tumbling, and then the ice shattered. It fell amidst

and befuddled, Elenore barely remembered to shout, “Attack!

did not need to reach Sumner—he was competent enough to know when his opportunity had come. He gave the signal—a single blown horn. And with that, unrivalled destruction rained upon the Shadowlander. Ice, fire, frost, earth, lightning, and even simple

mana ripple split the air, signifying another high-rank spell soon came. Elenore’s heart dropped again as she feared he would change targets. A gigantic hammer of wind took shape in the air, craning backwards. The Shadowlander could not

firmly on the chest, digging in a few inches before dispersing. Even that attack was not enough to pierce it fully, and so the barrage continued for a while longer. Anneliese cast B-rank spell after B-rank spell, her A-rank ascendency [Life Cycle] enriching her magic

away in despair. Then, thin curtains of light pushed past the grasping darkness, falling onto its hand. More light poured in, illuminating the city and warding away the foul darkness as its hand fell to the earth, still and dead.

and Argrave locked

#####

stared at a teetering detached tower barely clinging on to the Dragon Palace, their men just behind. The battle between Orion and that

crumbled away leaving a path no wider than one person. The tower itself was tilted at a harsh, perhaps forty-five-degree

Georgina said optimistically,

looks unstable. Too

to disguise the contempt in her eyes. Even until this moment, the common-born duke did not trust her commitment to King Felipe III. Perhaps it was because she had never shared her reasons for support. That distrust only gave her

“Not like you’d be

scarred freak laughed, then angled his head