Jackal Among Snakes

Galamon looked back at the soldiers arranged before him. The tactics and the discipline of the Veidimen were instilled into this human army so perfectly he nearly felt he was leading troops from his homeland. In them was the burning fire of responsibility and duty that made Galamon certain they would all be ready to march down through the tunnels and meet the blades of the Ebon Cult head on.

“Argrave sent word. They’re in Erlebnis’ realm,” Elenore’s voice entered his head.

Galamon reached for the Ebonice axe at his side and held it up into the air without another thought. He raised it high, and felt the surging power of Veid’s blessing coursing through his body. “We march!” he shouted, his pride and duty carrying with the words in a supernatural way.

The divine power that Veid had vested in him left his body, traversing the air with imperceptible speed before finding purchase in the hearts and minds of those he led. And as he turned, planting one foot in front of the other… the subjugation of the Ebon Cult began. But perhaps it would be two others who subjugated, first.

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Onychinusa stared at the empty air where Mozzahr had been a moment before, unpleasant feelings rising when she briefly felt the familiar sensation of Erlebnis. It had been so long since she last felt her former master’s realm… and it had become unpleasant. It was like the salty tang of blood, or the smell of the hands after touching certain metals.

Erlebnis no longer defined her. Instead, she was Onychinusa, last of the imperial bloodline of the ancient elves, and master of the dryads of the elven forest. And she had deigned to help her friend Anneliese—after all, the poor woman sorely needed her. And fittingly, the instrument of Onychinusa’s help embodied her bloodline, so she could not protest overmuch.

The Ebon Cult surrounding them fell into utter chaos after Mozzahr disappeared. He was the object of their worship, and he had been attacked and struck. His last command still rung in their mind, and two intruders persisted in their midst… but the two intruders were far more prepared for this outcome than the Ebon Cult. Castro and Onychinusa both raised their hands, spells prepared long in advance of the Ebon Cult collecting itself for battle.

They both cast one spell: [Subjugate], the S-rank shamanic spell created by her grandfather, Emperor Balzat.

The spirits and the magic within Onychinusa roared to life, merging together to form thick wires of malicious energy. It spiked outward from her hand in a cone, one tendril of power whipping forth for every head in her line of sight. The bolts moved with the speed of an arrow, piercing into the minds of the cultists by the thousands. They screamed in agony as the spell activated. The lesser among them collapsed to the floor, unconscious. The others grappled with tremendous pain as it took effect, most falling to the ground as their limbs failed.

[Subjugate] was a spell that subdued the mind and soul. It targeted the mind and the memories, shattering them both if the target did not possess spirits of their own to defend against the assault. The target’s faculties could be regained given time, but in the here and now, no other outcome was better suited for this situation. It isolated the mundane people from the spellcasters in one fell swoop, exposing their key targets.

The black wires of the malicious power of [Subjugate] faded away like strands of broken spider silk, and Onychinusa watched the standing foes with sneering derision as the masked fanatics panicked. She dared a glance behind, where Castro had left a scene of similar magnitude, then focused on her targets.

which did not use shamanic magic to assault. When the spell left her foe’s hand in the form

it, she stood at the fortress they had passed by

to use shamanic magic with so many

his gray robe that had been badly burnt. “Well… I would say we did more than our duty. Their army will be in abject chaos.” He turned his head back, where the first of the army headed by Galamon began to emerge from the tunnels, the commander himself at the

said, and then vanished into formless magic once again. She still lingered in the air, watching the battlefield from above. Castro sighed, looking out into the dwarven city. The light of Emptiness had left it, in part, but vestiges still

forever, Onychinusa supposed, so long as the Castellan of the Empty lived. But that wasn’t a sure thing,

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of darkness bathed in teal light and questioned if, somehow, the spear forged by the Alchemist had failed to take them out of the dwarven city.

the pitch black, Argrave could only make out the color of the floor—a dull brown that felt strangely fleshy beneath the feet. Realizing they’d succeeded, he sent a brief message to Elenore speaking of their success, giving her

succeeded. They had abducted Mozzahr, bringing him to Erlebnis’ realm. With this, their two most powerful enemies would come to fight one another. Back on the mortal world, the Ebon Cult would be without its person of worship. And as Mozzahr undoubtedly called on his Emptiness to protect himself in this uncertain scenario, their imbued power would wither away. Their morale would

of a hostile god with the most powerful human foe Argrave could conceive

relieved to see all of his companions were here. The Alchemist still gripped the spear, held out in thrust. And at the same distance away as

inside of his right eye, empowering him. “And intuition says I require this spear to return. So…” he reached around his back, grasping where the weapon entered his body. He freed himself with ease, his teal Emptiness taking the place of his flesh so that no blood fell. His hands still firmly gripped the spear.

his hand up to call upon his blessing. A new blessing, in fact—Law’s blessing. “In this domain, might and magic are incomprehensibly

Melanie stepped to join the Alchemist and gripped the white spear, bracing on the ground and pulling tremendously hard. The Alchemist sprouted additional limbs to

steady and immovable, but as more of Mozzahr’s Emptiness flowed into him, he strengthened. He overpowered Orion and the Alchemist, and the weapon began to move deeper into the portal, further into his

the Castellan freed one hand to conjure a ward to protect himself. Even despite Argrave using multiple blood magic spells, Durran

it appeared suddenly, stabbing right at his eye, Mozzahr released his grip on the spear to defend himself. He overestimated the attack, to their benefit. With a simple flick of his wrist, her blade shattered, and she cried

the spear out with tremendous speed. Mozzahr reached through the portal, seeking to regain contact, but the Alchemist moved faster. Arms sprouted

they were elsewhere, he cried out, “In this domain, we are hidden

like sleep might claim him at any minute.