Jackal Among Snakes

All of the high-ranking members of the Stonepetal Sentinels were arrayed before Argrave side-by-side. They had all heard the spellcasters in their number; the king was possessed of magic enough to easily have breached A-rank by now. The two men by his side were giants both, and the sentinels were experienced enough to recognize that they bore enchanted armor. Even the king himself was no slouch, physically—standing a little over seven feet tall, his movements had a strange red mysticism to them. Even as he sat in a chair, cross-legged, he seemed imposing. The white-haired elven woman by his side was little different.

All of this entirely discounted the army he brought to the Low Way. The tension was palpable.

“So… what do you think will make things right between us?” the king questioned, leaning forth and entwining his hands together.

“Your Majesty…” one of them began. “We would… do anything you asked of us.”

“Are you the new Grandmaster Sentinel?” Argrave asked. When the man shook his head, he clicked his tongue. “Still haven’t chosen a new one? Impressive.” He sighed, then scanned them. “I think you know what you need to do, all of you.”

They looked between each other, feeling panic rise as the king’s request went unanswered. They all looked to the seniormost sentinel among them, pleading for aid. The old man swallowed bitterly, then looked at Argrave as he glared coldly. And then…

He fell to his knees and bowed. Everyone was shocked for a minute, but the tent became a scramble to see who could get to their knees the fastest. They stayed there, staring at the floor… but as seconds passed with silence, the old man dared a look up. Argrave was frowning in displeasure.

The man was about to bury his face in the dirt when the king finally said, “Did you listen to what Ossian said? At all? I don’t even see him here.” The king scanned their ignorant faces with his cold gray eyes, and then he sighed. “Good lord… unbelievable. Just because the man’s a pariah, doesn’t mean… well, whatever.” He swept back his black hair, and then said, “Get the crew together. Your watch is over.”

The upper echelon of the Stonepetal Sentinels all looked up slowly, fixing Argrave with a confused eye.

“We’re going to do something that should have been done long ago. We’re going to wipe out all of the Guardians of the Low Way. We’re going to secure the entire city of Nodremaid,” the king said passionately, then pointed at them. “And then, all of you are going to join a crusade against an enemy far worse than the Guardians.”

“Your Majesty, the Order of the Rose--!”

“Are you worried about what I might do with the knowledge in Nodremaid?” Argrave interrupted. “Well, don’t. As you remember, when last I came here… the blood in water stopped flowing. Do you think that was happenstance? And do you think my father, Felipe III, power-obsessed conqueror, would have left Order of the Rose spells unclaimed?” He shook his head slowly. “Fact is, the royal family has always had Rose-era spells. But the Low Way was… not something they cared about. None of my ancestors cared to fix the problem here.”

The Stonepetal Sentinels felt a chill come through them.

“But despite all that’s happened… it’s pointless to fight without end. I will set aside all that happened, and right a wrong that needs righting. Simply that,” the king declared, leaning back. “And I know all of you are good, deep down. You’ve endured a lot, living like this. Your ancestors, their ancestors… and you, fighting the good fight. I want to end that. Now, and forevermore,” he finished, raising his fist up. “Will you come along?”

#####

offering praise. It killed any desire for any jokes he might’ve had. Regardless, after a grueling capstone to Castro’s meticulous training… the

had allowed them to determine its structure, and didn’t see any reason to intervene in the army. Still, Galamon decided the strategy, being intimately familiar with both

it sounded. He was incredibly uncomfortable with inaction these days. Given the coming of the Ebon Cult, he thought it prudent to get used to it. Though he

tended to swarm… but swarming in large numbers meant they might cause casualties. That was an untenable outcome. As such, Galamon and Anneliese opted for

it was their responsibility to attract and manipulate the Guardians that they might land in unfavorable positions. Argrave assigned Melanie as their leader. Perhaps their inaction in electing a new leader had been a boon, as it allowed him to choose one for them. It was couched as temporary,

There, the army assumed the burden of slaughter. Arrows, spears, swords—if the Guardians came through narrow entries, where their opportunity to attack from multiple angles was limited, then common soldiers were more than sufficient

then, Argrave’s army

gear Argrave intended to secure for them, they were a disciplined force to be reckoned with. They were soldiers—professional soldiers, in a time where there were either highly-skilled knights or unskilled levies with little in between. By this time, they’d already grown used to the foul creatures by testing their blades on them in

get his hands dirty and make a change in the battle, but all the counsel he received advised against that. Yet then… reports became faster, and the news was

of the city. A certain vital building was seized. Grimalt’s division handled no more approaching Guardians. Letter after letter became positive where they had been negligible, all of it reminded Argrave that this fight wasn’t his alone. And in time, the people sent below started returning,

walked out to greet her, and she looked between Orion and him. He

to

“Well, that’s…” he chuckled

clean. No brashness, no misbehaving… but

#####

thirty feet tall, but he moved the giant slabs of

just walked through—there’s this place. An underground training area. It’s every bit as advanced as the Tower of the Gray Owl.

They were as strong as the one that blocked them out of the library. S-rank spellcasters

just want free security for this place, I think,” Castro noted shrewdly. “And nothing would

about the place. “You’ve got me there. But am I wrong? Nodremaid, this place… we can revive it, without all

the Low Way had been thorough and complete. It was a systematic elimination of the mindless fiends, and marked a stark victory. In another few days, they’d settle in, fortify this place, and

meet the Alchemist once

is the Ebon Cult?”

exclude or include, but after a silent hesitance decided to be honest. “At present… they’re more advanced than us. They have salvaged dwarven weaponry. It’s not as potent as freshly-forged stuff, but it can cleave through steel when given average strength. And with Mozzahr’s Emptiness enhancing them?” Argrave shook his head. “The dwarves are magicless. Dwarven metal

got plenty of spellcasters,” Argrave continued as he paced around. “They’ve been using leftover dwarven contraptions to collect spirits. Meaning, they already have shamanic magic.” Argrave sighed. “It’s bleak. It’s very bleak. I

once last look to