Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave felt a brief sense of the totality of Vasquer’s perception extending deep into the mountains and the depths below. He could see the cavern which Anneliese had retrieved her A-rank ascension, and could see the marble city below that. Nothing stirred in their streets, and beyond a certain point, the sense of vision ended. Even as he viewed this for a few moments, his head began to throb.

Argrave pulled his hand away from Vasquer and brought it to his head to tame the pain. This had been his primary purpose in coming here—ensuring that the depths were watched even without active management. Now, if anything were to arise, Vasquer could bring the issue before Elenore and the army mounting outside the city. He intended for Blackgard to be the most well-defended portion of the kingdom.

Beyond that, Argrave had come here with many questions—large questions—but they were questions that no one would truly have the answer to save Gerechtigkeit himself. Just because Vasquer had endured one of the cycles of judgment did not mean that she knew all of the answers. Even Argrave himself only knew so much even with the complete access and repeatability granted by Heroes of Berendar.

Whether he asked where divinity might manifest, or whether Gerechtigkeit himself might manifest where Argrave remembered, Vasquer offered no answer beyond guesswork. Argrave knew where certain gods would appear on the continent… but that had been in Heroes of Berendar, of course. Experience had proven that this logic might be tossed to the wind. Still, the ancient snake’s insights did solidify some of the things Argrave thought to be true.

He was certain that Gerechtigkeit would manifest here. But beyond that, all else of what he knew about the coming troubles could be tossed to the wayside, to be recreated against from the ground up.

Argrave looked at Orion. “Do you want some more time?”

The prince lowered his hand from the snake’s scales and shook his head. “I can move when you wish, Your Majesty.”

Argrave was about to walk away, but he stopped. Some of the things that he’d been grappling with surfaced in his head—the constant drive forward, the confidence, the strange and active person he’d become. Anneliese had been discussing this with him in length, but… he found he sought another’s opinion. One who could see all of what lay inside his head, not some.

With this in mind, Argrave touched Vasquer once again, baring himself utterly. Instead of reassurance and comfort—the constant from this matriarch of theirs—what came to him was amusement. A memory came to him. It was a time in the distant past, when a man with a marked resemblance to Argrave faltered because he felt unfamiliar confidence. Finally, when he embraced it, his failings turned to success. There was a large difference between earned confidence and unearned confidence.

With the comparison made between himself and a hero of legend, Argrave felt strange. He pulled his hand away and turned around.

“I guess it’s time to get going.”

#####

were staring at a mountain of black stone in one moment, and a glacial field in the next. This was the power of shamanic magic—a power undoubtedly to be unleashed on the surface in short order, given they’d found a helmet belonging to the Ebon Cult. As befitted the mid-game magic,

answered

wall of Vei—” Anneliese trailed off, her eyes falling upon

place. It was the ancient stone city of Veiden, and the whole of it had been shielded by a wall of blue ice that never melted. Far from evoking déjà vu, it evoked shock; half of this seemingly indomitable wall of ice was toppled. Nothing around suggested what might

shouted at them, even when they had been halting for a solid minute by that

aim at them, but neither moved to strike. There had been a

daughter,” Argrave said with a small smile, looking upon this force of Veidimen. “A terrible career move, all things

even as one of them raised a horn up to call for reinforcements. He waited for tensions to calm somewhat before speaking… but when his plans were drowned out by a roar loud enough to bleed the

to the wall, peering down at them. He

#####

Rowe’s dragon, though it made Argrave’s heart beat uncomfortably fast, proved to be a good thing. They were taken inside the city in short order, ignoring most ceremony or security. They entered the ancient stone

the Righteous tapped his staff on the ground, his voice sharp as a whip even after the time that passed. He looked as old as ever—tall, bony, and bald, the S-rank spellcaster was much more wizened than he looked… and he already looked quite old. His floppy lips

Patriarch Dras. They’d asked, but he wasn’t here—the man liked to travel frequently, touring his vast icy land. This palace was carved stone, all of it, heavy and gray and solemn.

gaze settled upon Rowe.

narrowed his eyes.

enough to break down that wall?” Argrave gestured

groaned in displeasure. “Galamon

Last I checked he was just a big guy, not an S-rank

“Do you think an S-rank mage could break that wall?

Anneliese stepped around, alight with curiosity. “What happened here? Where is

too.” Rowe smiled bitterly. “Galamon went on a journey. When he came back, he was fighting this… this bizarre winged frost creature. He fought with more strength than I’ve ever seen anyone possess. In the end, they ended up on the wall. Galamon’s finishing blow put an end to the monster. It also put an end to a fortification that’s guarded this city for as long