Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 618

To satiate his desire to gamble the fate of the universe, Argrave visited someone to enable him; a craftsman who was entirely ignorant of what these fruits were.

“I need you to make two four-sided dice that have a hollow space that could fit this fruit inside of it,” Argrave gestured toward the two of them. “I can’t accept them being damaged, so you’ll have to be gentle. On top of that, I need to be able to open up the die to remove the fruit inside. Do you think this is feasible?”

Dario looked at him incredibly strangely. “Why do you want to put a fruit inside a die?”

“Incredibly high-stakes gambling among the rich. Don’t question the whims and wishes of your betters,” he said, putting on a fake snobby voice.

Dario reached out and took the fruit. Argrave was deeply alarmed when he squeezed them slightly, but resisted the urge to snatch them out of his hand. “I suppose I could make a bizarre mold for a tetrahedron, split it in half, then add some mechanism for it to open and close that doesn’t disturb its balance nor open while being tossed.” The red-eyed man looked over coldly. “Alternatively, I could just make a pair of dice without all of this stupid stuff.”

Argrave shook his head adamantly. “Both have to be able to fit one fruit.”

Dario sighed. “Come back in three hours.”

He patted Dario on the shoulder with a smile, then turned and walked toward the exit. Anneliese stood there, and she gave him a disbelieving shake of her head when he walked by.

“You’re really doing this? Really? A game of dice for the fate of the Fruits of Being?”

Argrave protested, “Of course I’m not playing dice. That would be incredibly crude. Do you really think that I’m so irresponsible as to play a simple game of dice to distribute unimaginable power? That would be tactless. Impetuous. Harebrained. Ludicrous. Inconceivable, even, and I don’t use that word lightly.”

“…yet from the glee on your voice, you do have something in mind that involves those dice.”

“A sixteen-person lottery.” Argrave nodded. “Elegant. Sophisticated. Refined. A patrician fashion to decide the fate of the world, far removed from the crudeness of mere dice.”

Anneliese followed him along in silence, finally stunned into quietude by one of his antics. Argrave thought that it was one of the best ideas he’d ever had.

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greet him. She set her writing implement down and leaned

You might’ve spoken to me through

ornate black wooden box on her table, with a slot on the top of it just large enough to fit a large hand through. He shook the box, keeping his hand over the top, then held

told her. “Then, tell me

studied him with narrowed eyes. “What

with numbers ranging eleven to fourteen, twenty-one to twenty-four, thirty-one to thirty-four, and forty-one to

tell me anything,” Elenore said, her distrust

box closer

sigh, she reached in, rummaging through. She pulled free a crumpled piece of paper, unraveled it, and read the number. “Twenty-one.

the paper back atop his hand. He combusted it with

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golden armor walking about the courtyard of the parliamentary hall. “Elenore said you would be here. I have an important

do? I am at your

this tale on Amazon, know that it has been

out. “Draw a paper. Tell me the

his demeanor relaxed considerably, his brother reached into the box and pulled a paper

paper and

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searched out sixteen people—now fourteen, after his siblings—and had

and called him an inbred—it was a factually true statement considering his biological mother was also his first cousin, but not very hurtful nonetheless. Eventually, however, the man once known as the Alchemist

parliament, and the Veidimen drew a paper without question. He asked questions after, but Argrave gave no answers and left with the elf’s

its now solitary denizen. Onychinusa, last heiress of the ancient elven empire on Berendar, offered her condolences for Vasquer’s passing. She proved to be the most difficult to persuade to reach into the box and draw her

who would come with them into the Shadowlands, because the

treatment Durran did. She tried to negotiate for an entry fee to the lottery—namely, that she would be paid to enter the lottery—but Argrave remained steadfast and she did eventually succumb to

master of the Hall of Enchantment, S-rank magister afflicted with dwarfism, had been an arrogant if reliable ally. In the Bloodwoods he’d proven his worth many times over, especially in stressful situations. His mastery of the

was resistant to enter the lottery because he hated gambling. Argrave finally had to break his demeanor and admit that this was rather important, and the man once of the subterranean

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