Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 683: No More Runway

Durran stared out across the vast emptiness of the Burnt Desert. As he did, the words of the woman he loved echoed in his head.

I don’t want you to fight, Elenore had said. I want you to stay in Blackgard, with me.

As he saw the countless people of his homeland running away, he’d felt the words that he’d said after rang all the truer.

This is bigger than you or me alone, Durran had said. Not many people are willing to do what has to be done. If everyone listened to that voice in their head that told them to do what they want, no one would get anything they need.

Durran turned back, looking away from the Burnt Desert and turning his gaze toward its coast. The ocean itself throbbed and pulsed, ascending to greater heights until it began to dwarf the mountains all around these sandy dunes. Countless deities that governed spheres relating to water had coalesced, coming to this point in stark opposition against this arid desert, against the Kingdom of Vasquer and all it stood for. Leading their tide was Fellhorn, undoubtedly, come to reclaim the land he had made more barren than ever.

“It’s a high tide, boys,” Durran shouted, spinning his glaive between his fingers as he walked to where his wyvern waited. He climbed aback the creature, placing himself firmly in the saddle. Hundreds of warriors of the southern tribes, supported by just as many southron elves, looked to him for guidance. He raised his glaive high and continued, “If anyone can conquer the water, it’d be us. We’re the warriors of the desert—and all of us, all of us, know what that means. Let’s give my kingly brother-in-law a pleasant surprise, yeah? When he shows up to help… let’s make sure none are left!” He shouted at the top of his lungs.

Durran’s wyvern ran forth a few steps and then took off gracefully. Those fleeing thousands behind him elevated his rage, his intense desire to protect, all the higher. He would meet this high tide with waves of power of his own. He felt it all course through him—an entire lifetime all leading up to a moment.

This was where the world would be made anew, or broken entirely.

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Galamon looked down at his gauntleted hand, moving his fingers one by one. There was new power within him. He’d thought that, having lived as long as he had and done as much as he’d done, nothing remained for him. But Hause had proven otherwise, and given him something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing.

“You don’t need to take the front, Galamon,” Patriarch Dras said. “This land is foreign to us. We’ve been here no longer than a year at most. These people outnumber ours ten to one, nearly. Let these people of the Great Chu throw themselves upon the coming barbarian hordes. Let’s build a wall from their corpses, and defend what remains.”

Galamon looked up, where a great tide of troops swarmed out of the jungles of the north. At the head of these hosts were gods, bringing structure and order to what was already a tremendously potent force. The Veidimen, gathered together in ruthless discipline, waited orders as the Great Chu soldiers already arranged to fight. Emperor Ji Meng had taken command, once again, intent on throwing back this force.

“Command is mine.” Galamon looked over. “Veid Herself has blessed my actions, and I have realized my full potential. I must fight. All of us must. We cannot claim this land as our own if we would not bleed to defend it.”

Patriarch Dras closed his eyes, sighing. “Very well, Galamon. Achieve victory. For your wife, for your son.”

“Not only them.” He nodded. “For all. Let us unite for all.”

Veid already awaited. Something lingered in his step—something he thought had been killed, cast aside. Perhaps it had been brought back,

Vampirism hounded Galamon’s step.

beast his master… rather, he owned it. He had again become a conduit for that awful power. Its strengths had returned tenfold, while its weaknesses had utterly vanished. Such a power had a cost, of course. Galamon felt a terrible hunger that ate

the blood of gods

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dwarf. It depicted the founder of this great underground dwarven city, Mundi, with a great jar hefted his shoulder. “I go with them to Sandelabara

Dario’s red eyes gazed straight ahead at the entrance to Mundi—it banged mightily, a resounding echo that permeated the whole city. Thousands of dwarves stood at the ready, armaments trained on the gate. Thousands more manned ballistae of Dario’s design, empowered by lava and packing a

as another huge bang echoed throughout the city. “I’m

my life underground,” Dario answered. “As for

noted, hefting her large chitinous sword. “Just

building behind us falls to the enemy…” He turned around, where a huge, heavily-shielded building stood tall. “Then the pressure will hit us, all

this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from

Melanie rolled her shoulder. “Well, you’re used to the weight of the world being on your shoulders.

it wouldn’t destroy his body any longer. Such an improvement was half due to Hause unlocking an ability to

power won’t last forever,” Dario

hand through her long red hair. “I’m getting used to it. Wish Hause had done as much for me as she did for you… but I don’t need

positively dripping with lava, reached out and grasped at air. Melanie opened a portal, walked through, and appeared just above the hand. She swung with all her might, and it cleaved straight through the arm.

still fight. Everything seems to be in order…”

of it… there might be a long life,” Dario said quietly. “I’d like

#####

was joined by the most prominent living spellcasters of Berendar beyond the king’s inner circle—namely, Hegazar and Vera, the duke and duchess of Dirracha, and Artur,

the bottom,” Ingo asked of the three. “Elenore sent word. Apparently, the roaming armies intend to target the base of the

pretty goddess, give you an oh-so-special power. I’m happy for you—I am. But our focus…” He walked to the balcony, looking upward. “Should be on that big bastard

Apparently, countless gods worked in tandem to create it. It was highly mobile, and promised to be highly destructive. While some gods would be doing what they could to defend, and Argrave might eventually arrive to permanently resolve

be focused on dealing with the forces that assault from the ground. In the meantime, Castro taught you more about this tower than anyone still alive. Can you leverage something to stop the storm? That’s the duty

thought long and hard, until finally he raised his head up determinedly. “I can do something. But I’ll need your help, Artur. We have to

them?” Artur repeated. “I may be

Hause gave me,” Ingo confirmed. “The Tower of the Gray Owl already has a lightning rod to help