Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 643: Make Love, Not War

As Argrave felt the stampede of the hounds of hunger come ever closer, it felt as though he was witnessed a stampede of wildebeests charging at him. Predators seldom worked in herds, but these cooperated to sate the hunger eating them from within. He began to see these blackened, indistinguishable creatures as hyenas—and like that, the image crystallized.

In his mind’s eye, color returned to this blackened world as a vast savanna took shape. Golden grass sprouted from the flat ground, and the black hyena-like hounds dodged the sparing few trees that disturbed the endless flatness. He was a lone hunter facing a riled stampede, and behind him, he had to protect the village of his mind. He sent out his blood echoes, preparing to rain hellish spells down upon them, until he thought of something.

He had never truly faced any fight alone, had he?

Then, manifesting his mind’s thoughts, his blood echoes became imitations of his closest allies. Anneliese, Elenore, Orion, Galamon, Durran, Melanie, the houses of Parbon and Monticci… all his echoes manifested as these people, taking up arms like it was natural to do so. Steeled by this, Argrave was able to step forward, all of his power at hand.

Orion rushed forth toward the hounds, confronting them with his brutal strength and insurmountable will. Galamon loosed steady arrows to catch those that broke away from the herd—then, at his command, Argrave’s royal guard erupted into the flank of the coming hounds, punching a great hole into the stampeding horde. Durran soared on his wyvern, casting S-rank spells that burnt away great sections of the hound army. Melanie and the noble houses coordinated closely to create skirmishes that brooked no retaliation.

As for Argrave and Anneliese… as they were in the Shadowlands versus its denizens, so too were they versus these hounds of hunger. His bloody magic raged against the tide, conjuring all manner of spells he knew and simultaneously inventing some with his imagination on the spot. She reenergized him with her brilliant white scepter forged of Veid’s heart, but was also a force unto herself. She carried herself with the same ferocity as she had in the battle against the tephramancers that earned her the alias Stormdancer.

Then, a voice cut into his head (despite the fact he was already in his head). Elenore told him, “Argrave. I’ve prepared a trap for our enemies. Have everyone fall back, following you so as to avoid the dangerous locations.”

Argrave ceased his relentless disassembly of the enemy, got some distance, and looked back. His mind filled in what would be there—beyond the savanna, there was the jungle. He could see his mind formulating the dense rainforests in real time. He’d never born witness to them, so they were surely altogether infinitely more foreboding than such places actually were.

He saw Elenore, aback Vasquer, head deep into the rainforests. Her words pierced his skull, guiding him. He echoed them to his allies, and they followed the safe path through the jungle. Galamon’s Veidimen covered their retreat, and they headed far into the jungle with their pursuers hot on their tail. But Argrave—a native to the jungle of his mind—walked unimpeded, rapidly making his way through. The hounds of hunger, meanwhile…

Argrave heard an explosion behind. When he looked back, he saw a fragmentation mine explode, tearing dozens of the hounds of hunger and the surrounded trees to bits. These mines continued to violently explode. Alongside it came artillery. Heavy bombardments of shells broke past the canopy, blowing the dogs to bits.

Realizing his uninspired American mind had conjured what little he knew of Vietnam as Elenore’s trap, Argrave continued back to their camp within the jungle. As he walked forward, his companions passed by him. They wore excellent camouflage and military gear, bringing with them rifles and grenades all with a peculiar logo—ARTUR. Then, Argrave heard a terrible noise, and whipped his head.

They were tanks, but not tanks as Argrave knew them. Instead, they looked to be made in the same fashion that the golems Dario had made were. Argrave could see enchantments shining along their surface, and even spotted golem cores powering them. Instead of a cannon,

and ballistae shot from tanks rained down upon these vicious characterizations of the Shadowland’s endless hunger. Each of these

obtained from Royal Road. If

wind as something started to descend upon them. Looking up, he saw a helicopter coming to a stop, its blades slowing losing intensity even as the mounted machine gun continued to fire upon the hounds. Orion—in heavy-duty modern military gear, with a large rifle—jumped out of the chopper, then ran toward Argrave. Instead of his usual long hair and bushy beard, he

above the whirring of the helicopter.

where the head of his secret service—Galamon—took him into safety. As the chopper lifted off, he saw Anneliese rush into a throng of hounds bearing a flamethrower, burning everything in front of her to bits with a blood-magic imbued flame. The blades gained

Argrave on his presidential private jet. “Llewellen has completed the Blackgard Project. If you give the go-ahead,

see the true scale of the Hopeful’s hunger.

the bomb,”

them, the blood bomp dropped from its hand, falling delicately… then combusted with such ferocity he never even saw it burst.

Prime Minster Supreme,” said Melanie, and Argrave turned his head. “The leader of the hunger has contacted us. He’d like to

“Let’s meet,” Argrave decided.

and reporters snapped pictures of him as he descended. Galamon’s secret service herded them away forcefully. At the

briefcase out. “If you can take this as a peace offering… we can

hound in a suit opened the briefcase. Within was the memory of Traugott that Argrave had plucked free. The dog

“Good boy. Give me your

treat; the briefcase. With it, the

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