Jackal Among Snakes

The people of the Great Chu had come here today, spurred by the son of heaven, to once again beat back the gods—to once again prevent their nation from crumbling. Yet the battle before them proceeded like nothing else.

The endless fire of the sky tower began to rain down upon Grand Commandant Sun’s forces as they marched ever closer to heaven. The application of magic and the aid of divinity made them fire retardant, but the whole of the area was scorched. It was a deep, unending heat, seeping past lesser armors to pool around the skin and slowly burn it away. Their advance upward became harsher than that in any desert, and only those with heat-protected armor like Grand Commandant Sun or his wife were spared the misery.

After this torturous trek, they came to the first outpost—the first gate, protecting the path to the palace. The mountain had been bored through to make way for it. The building was sheer red, and with an angular crosspiece supporting the mountain above, it was a striking image that all born on this continent recognized from tales and stories. In the gates leading to the Palace of Heaven, countless heroes had made their legends sound around the world.

And to all’s fear, manning it was one of these legends—one of the heroes that struck awe in all those of the Great Chu. Distinguished by his towering horn helm, all knew him as the Swallower of Sinners, an ancient commander of history who had once held this very gate against a million barbarian invaders. His gigantic bow, taller than the man himself, struck dread and reverence into the hearts and minds of those that came to take this fortress.

The Grand Commandant Sun informed them all he was a machination of Erlebnis—a replication of the great hero, reborn from the god of knowledge’s vast collection of history. Even they could see these figures were mimicries, gleaming like reddish mercury… yet the legends of old could not be banished so easily. Even a replica of a legend evoked the same primal fear.

Just as in the stories of old, the Swallower of Sinners caught an arrow aflame, and pointed it downward. He fired it not at the grand commandant, nor at the Justiciars protecting him… but at the ground, where pipes of oil led to barrels full of black powder. And just as had happened once before, the ground itself exploded with tremendous force as the oil carried the fire to all the traps beneath the earth.

But the foreign conqueror, Sun, was unfazed by these legends. He barked an order, and his people dug into the earth. With spells, they poured gluts of water inside. And when the aflame oil attempted to ignite the black powder beneath their feet… the water had already soiled it, utterly. His people walked across the lake of fire, where the Swallower of Sinners waited to rebuff them.

The Swallower of Sinners was still a mighty and clever warrior, commanding a legendary retinue of archers. Great blasts of power bridged the gap in an attempt to break the spearhead of their army—to break Grand Commandant Sun, protected by Law’s Justiciars. Though a great man the Swallower was… a man he was all the same, and with a tactic tried and tested against foes of the past rather than those of today.

Red ghosts, born in Sun’s image, streaked across the battlefield to penetrate the fortress. They cast explosive magic, disrupting the Swallower of Sinner’s perfect formation. With an opening, great ballistae brought from the land overseas fired from the back, striking down those that manned the first gate. When they came to the giant red door that blocked their entry, the Justiciars reeled back and slammed against it. A great gong echoed down the mountain as the first of the metal doors swung open.

The first gate fell.

Gods and monsters swarmed like water to flood out rats... yet unexpectedly, support came. Far behind the grand commandant’s marching army, a lone figure stepped out of the tall shadows cast by the mountain to confront the gods and their servants. Giants, demons, and gods standing one hundred feet tall

the prudent few that recognized the god of war, chaos, and ruthless destruction. And consequently, only a prudent few hung back, to

as though they were merely wheat before a scythe. Sataistador chased his thrown weapons, drawing and utilizing countless more as unimaginable glee flickered across his face. Blades, hammers, warpicks—he clashed

this tailwind to make it to the second gate. There, yet another Great Chu hero awaited—Secret Listener. The last member of an assassin guild, he had created a regiment that had never fallen in all its days. And here, just

simply too skilled

their poison failed, so too did they—great though they

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Secret Listener himself descended upon their grand commandant. Yet their commander projected strange shadows of blood, then seemed to disappear—and when the scene settled, Sun stood with a blade of blood stabbed

by Law’s Justiciars… and with it, another

the Great Embracer. This hero had protected the third gate in millennia past with the fiercest of beasts—his pets, serpentine dragons. The men of the Great Chu feared for their life as these beasts of myth soared through the air, conjuring all the elements of the world to break them down… yet Law’s Justiciars shrugged away fire, ice, and lightning all,

manage to defend themselves in time. Law’s Justiciars called upon the golden aura within their beings to create great shields that blocked the people, and on they pushed. Yet strangely, all

it, flying through the air and descending upon the weakest link like a falcon plucking fish out of the water. She was as fearsome as all heroes before… yet strangely, the people of the Great Chu did not feel that same fear, that same hopelessness, as they had in the gates before. Something had

for the mistress. For a time, it seemed hopeless to the warriors of the Great Chu—surely the Mistress would dance away, unharmed? Yet the Mistress of the Sky, ever the hunter, became the hunted. The elven

itself. The Long-Horned Bull stood in their path, out front the fortress. Standing ten feet tall, his strength was such that even gods had fallen before him. He bore a great crescent axe wrought from the skull of a dragon. The Bull had never lost, and in the end, old age was the only thing to claim him. Yet despite that, the people of the Great

tandem… yet with a swing of his axe, Long-Horned Bull proved the validity of his legend, swatting them all away.

axe, and their armor shattered beneath his blows. The grand commandant stood waiting all the while, the arrow on his bow humming with power unimaginable. After a minute, the bow let out an eerie howl,

Long-Horned Bull

onward, striking the metal doors of the fifth gate. The iron groaned, wrenched from its hinges, and it blast forth with the arrow of blood.

There could be no disputing whose story would ring the loudest if he passed this sixth and final gate. Grand Commandant Sun