Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave was the only one who could stop Sataistador.

That wasn’t a grandiosity complex, merely the facts of the situation. Argrave should’ve put some of the pieces together when he saw Governor Ji Meng tear his own rib out to make the array that warded away divinity. The governor was dead now, unfortunately, but at least he got to see his granddaughter’s wedding.

Regardless, the Stormfield was shamanic magic, true enough. But it was more than that. It was blood magic.

“Thief god, space god, I need you to defend me from Sataistador. He’s quiet enough now, but in a few moments, everything inside and outside the Palace of Heaven is going to become a warzone as his little soldiers show their face. Almazora, I need you to amplify the power of the blood in my body. And Anneliese… I need you to keep me alive.”

He spoke only the names he had verified in Erlebnis’ wiki. Except Anneliese, that is. He would never confuse her with another. Unless he was, which would be rather embarrassing.

“What are you talking about?” Anneliese questioned as Argrave looked upon Sataistador, who still kneeled bleeding.

“Why should we take orders from the man with a crooked face?” Space god questioned—he thought the name was Raccomen, but he couldn’t be sure.

Argrave ran his hand over his face. Was it crooked? He thought he’d put it back on right. He dropped his hand down and pointed. “You’re talking to me about being crooked, after that stunt you pulled? Listen, tomorrow I can be straight, but you’ll be dead forever if you don’t shut up and suit up. I promise I can explain everything after this is over.” Argrave conjured a dagger of blood magic, then walked out onto the glass cover of the Stormfield and kneeled. “I learned some things. Just do as I say, or this whole continent is going to fall into chaos.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sataistador gurgled, looking at Argrave as smoke billowed all around him. He seemed like an erupting volcano, wreathed in smoke while his neck erupted with blood. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

But in the smoke, figures danced—figures eerily similar to the god of war. The army, it would seem, was on the march. The first wave of soldiers was soon to arrive.

Argrave rolled up his right sleeve. “Almazora—do your part. Empower my blood. I know you can do that—I read all about it.”

amplify the magic in your blood?” The goddess of magic walked up behind him, kneeling. “I trust your intentions, but what you’re asking… it could kill you, even with Anneliese’s intervention. And even if it doesn’t, it could be a similar experience as what you experienced

up enough already. I’m certain I’ll live—I saw it, clear as day, in the wiki. Still, I can’t beat him unless you

her hand on the back of his head… and in a few moments, Argrave’s body

up, then slit both of his wrists. These weren’t attention-getting cuts from a teenager, either—he committed, starting the incision at the bottom of the forearm and ending just below the hand

black blood poured across the glass plate on the floor. He met the god of war’s green eyes. Fire burned within each of his

losing his cool, desperately trying to kill you. It looks like he broke his word, blabbed about my intentions to you. But even still… we’ll meet on the field

the pain, “I’m counting on

him. Maybe it was blood loss. Maybe it was his Erlebnisitis. But when the darkness rose

going to the Stormfield. There, the god of

#####

taken so long researching other things. He might’ve been able to talk the man back from the ledge,

been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the

just as the arrays that warded the divine, was blood magic. It was made of the blood of its creator, the first emperor of the Great Chu. His blood alongside his ingenuity lent the arrays incredible power, incredible dominance, over the entire continent. But another feature of theirs had been behind

Sacrifice.

time, during another cycle, Sataistador had overcome the same odds that Argrave had. He breached the walls of the fortress, and was going to enter triumphantly. Before he could, the Emperor of the

tried in one way or another to dismantle the empire—to tear it apart, piece by piece. Sometimes it fragmented, sometimes it fell into civil war… but it never truly ceased to exist, and the Palace

Argrave followed

instinctively sent out a blood echo and teleported, and it worked flawlessly. Argrave looked around to see an endless plateau of stone, with a purple sky above that danced with the power of a thousand electric

followed a few seconds after by the sound of thunder. “Following me here. I’m going to give you some praise, Argrave. You’re a soldier I’d have loved to have on my side, back

it was the Stormfield. The few crevices Argrave saw weren’t large enough to hide one of the many soldiers in Sataistador’s army. It

from the darkness, then cast some magic right into the back of Sataistador’s head. The lone soldier’s head blew clean off in a burst of flame, and the one fragment of the god of war turned