Jackal Among Snakes

The bolt of blood magic shot forth with enough speed that all onlookers saw was what had been left in its wake. Its tightly compressed power leaked out in jagged black-red sparks that tainted the land, leaving a tremendous field of coursing maroon power in the line it had travelled. An entire forest had become ash in half a second, and the hue marking the land only barely began to fade.

Argrave stared ahead with steady eyes, recovering from the tremendous burden that spell had put on him. Then, a voice cut across the scar he’d carved in the world.

“The favorite of your rudimentary gambits,” the voice said—a deep, rumbling voice that made one’s ears throb, one’s chest ache. “A cheap trick in your hands, but a suitable weapon in mine.”

Argrave’s bolt of blood thrust out of the crimson vortex, clenched firmly as a spear by a gargantuan hand of the same roiling black sludge he’d been fighting minutes ago. It stabbed directly at him, but Argrave met it without even closing his eyes. Claimed by Gerechtigkeit as his own weapon, the spell seemed liable to deliver its explosive power upon Argrave and all the forces at his back.

Before it could, it tilted upward and burst in a curving line with a destination in the sky. All of the clouds in sight vanished, dispelled by the sheer force of its ascent. That spell was Argrave’s, and it responded to his will as ably as any of his [Electric Eels]. It vanished like a rocket sent to space, but Argrave could firmly feel it connected to his being. He could feel its slow turn, adrift in space… and before long, he could feel its point aimed firmly at his target once more. It descended with the selfsame force it had left this planet.

The arrow of blood split the sky, burning the atmosphere, breaking the sound barrier. Thousands of sludge-like black hands rose into the sky on thin appendages, grasping at the bolt as it fell. Once it reached the heart of Gerechtigkeit’s essence, Argrave unbound the spell. Its power, tightly packed, exploded outward in a blooming spiral. The surge of vitality finally returning to Argrave was evidence that his attack had landed successfully.

Moments later, evidence reached all of them. The earth beneath shifted, the air around attempted to escape from the force, and the world itself reeled from the destructive impact of that single spell. As a wave of undeniable power slammed into Argrave hard enough to send him tumbling backward, he expected they’d feel the impact all the way in the Great Chu.

The one feeling it the most would be Gerechtigkeit.

When the dust cleared, the first thing that Argrave saw was a huge shell attached to an arm like a shield, facing the sky. The shell had been pierced through, and in the writhing mass of body parts that squirmed like a colony of worms in a panic, Argrave could see the lingering effects of his blood magic still eating away at the coalescing form of Gerechtigkeit. At this time, the calamity was at its most mutable, yet also at its most fragile. It was the perfect time to press the attack, breaking past this blockade Jaray had engineered.

Argrave looked back to find Anneliese, but she found him first, crouching beside him. “We’re going,” she said. He could barely hear her over his ringing ears. “Stout Heart Swan has lent her hounds. Come.”

Anneliese quickly helped him to sit aback a white wolf. The goddess of hunting—Durran’s patron—had lent use of her hounds to him, Anneliese, and some companions like Raven that they might be carried forth while keeping their hands open. Anneliese kept Sophia sitting right in front of her atop the same wolf, and together their small party bolted forth like wind. Sophia seemed less tired, but still markedly so. Despite their speed, Argrave didn’t feel pressed to hold onto its back to keep steady.

After the attack on Gerechtigkeit, less than half of the essence that he’d expended had returned to him. Such powerful one-shot spells were devastatingly powerful, yet not as energy-efficient as the ones he’d been using on the embryotic tissue. Gerechtigkeit’s consciousness was present, now, and that meant he could act freely… but his flesh wouldn’t be much firmer than liquid for a few minutes yet. To that end, Argrave cast the improved [Bloodfeud Bow] once again, hoping to give his allies more advantage.

Argrave’s flesh again turned to fire as the white-furred wolf bounded across the broken, dead landscape. Law strode above Argrave and Anneliese as they rode, his golden footfalls leaving no impact while he swung his sword fiercely at Gerechtigkeit. Leading all allied forces as the vanguard, he created a Domain of Law, strengthening all allies. Their mad charge to break into Blackgard was emboldened further yet. From Gerechtigkeit’s writhing, transformative mass, a black crab’s claw rose to catch the golden sword. Raccomen seemed to appear from empty space, creating a shroud-like portal that enveloped the claw, transferring it through space to somewhere else. The maneuver enabled Law’s blade to soar cleanly past, slicing into Gerechtigkeit’s mass.

As a howl of pain and a deep rumble of coming reprisal echoed throughout the world, the hounds made it near the ruins of Jast. The once-proud city of magic had been reduced to nothing more than history. None of its towers still stood, and all of its walls had been rendered ineffectual. They veered east, heading toward the rocky coast where the marble tower of Foamspire had once stood.

“The southern valley leading to Blackgard is plugged by foes,” Anneliese shouted to Argrave, even as his spell continued to grow in power. “Even if we can lift the siege of the undead and those golems, we don’t want to be funneled into the valley. We can’t fly over the mountains, either—between the golems and the active defense arrays, we can’t risk it. Not with Sophia.”

Stolen story; please report.

Argrave found it hard to speak, but he shouted back, “Plan?”

“We hug the coast, then use the ocean to reach the port,” Anneliese declared. “These hounds can traverse anything—open sky, or turbulent ocean. It should be sufficient.”

Argrave focused his attention back on the calamity, where Raccomen and Law fought as able allies. Argrave sought a place his [Bloodfeud Bow] would be used best, yet as he watched, Gerechtigkeit lashed out with a scorpion’s stinger at the god of justice. Raccomen redirected the attack into Law’s swinging golden blade, yet even as he cleaved the stinger in two the separated bits wrapped around his golden blade and shattered it. Law’s ethereal form was unphased, clenching its mighty fists together to batter Gerechtigkeit relentlessly.

Though Law tore into him, it appeared only as though his golden form was being sullied by the corruption of the calamity. Eventually, a hard black hand gripped his neck, and fire erupted out.

“Law… where is my justice?” Gerechtigkeit asked. “Must I make my own, as mortals ever do?”

Argrave, feeling his sanity wearing thin beneath this constant onslaught of pain induced by blood magic, fired the second enhanced [Bloodfeud Bow] directly at the sky. He soon trained it to strike from above as it had before. Though less than half as powerful, his spell still made its mark in this world as it lit up the sky. Both vanguard gods, seeing the coming airstrike, disengaged. As Raccomen attempted to phase away, one of the eye-golems erupted out of his own spatial portal—Argrave didn’t know when, but it must’ve discovered and entered the other side. It seized Raccomen, and before either deity could react, a colossal praying mantis arm erupted out, swiping like the reaper’s scythe. The god of space exploded into spirits, dead in less than a second.

Argrave’s second attack struck moments after, severing that outstretched mantis arm and dealing considerable damage to the undefended calamity. Still, before the unending tide, the attack seemed underwhelming. This explosive charge had at least given them the time they needed to bypass Gerechtigkeit and near the mountains surrounding Blackgard. To Argrave’s right he could see barely see Mateth, under siege by undead giants of the Bloodwoods that’d walked the ocean floor to do battle here. To his left, he saw the ruins of Foamspire, barely sticking out above the sea.

Gerechtigkeit followed closely behind them, arms crawling on the ground, legs sprinting full-throttle, and disgusting wings beating all at the same time to produce a horrifyingly face chase. It was only the effort of the full brunt of their forces they’d gathered that kept the calamity from overwhelming them.

“Argrave, the right,” shouted Anneliese.

Argrave looked again. Hundreds of golden-armored knights emerged from the forested hills in front of them. These warriors were a twin to the silver knight that had assaulted Blackgard. Each of them drew their blades in tandem, raising them prepared to fight.

“They’re weaker than what Orion faced, but more than powerful enough to kill if we’re not careful,” Anneliese outlined.

Argrave prepared powerful magic, hoping to quickly destroy what may be the last barrier between them and Blackgard. But as they grew ever nearer the host of golden knights blocking their route to the open ocean, Argrave’s gaze flicked upward in horror as a thick black line split the air above. Like ripping open curtains, two gargantuan hands ripped the fabric between this realm and the Shadowlands. Not far above them, the smiling face of the Hopeful peered down shadowed by the hundreds of gleaming eyes of those Shadowlanders who remained loyal to him.

“Faster!” came the decisive shout from Stout Heart Swan.

As the Hopeful fell from this world into theirs, the divine wolves beneath them worked their legs desperately to avoid being caught in this sudden ambush. The vivid yet horrifying world all around them became a squalid gray wasteland as the Hopeful’s influence sapped countless sensations from the world. They were barely fast enough to avoid a devastating attack from the absolute ruler of the Shadowlands. It split the earth, and the wolves scrambled up crumbling terrain in adept flight. Following shortly after that attack was a volley of projectiles from Shadowlander marksmen.

Anneliese managed to block most attacks for all the others, but Argrave’s wolf was struck. As the creature fell to the ground, he catapulted forward, carrying its momentum. He had the wit to use [Absolute Movement], and gained flight long before hitting the ground even became an option. With a burst of power, he caught up to the rest. Anneliese seized his hand, pulling him down that he might sit upon the same wolf she did. Together, they sandwiched Sophia between them.

Argrave turned his body around so that he could look upon the biggest threat. When he saw the sheer bulk of the Shadowlanders behind, he feared the worst… only, he saw a familiar white-haired Shadowlander, and fighting erupted soon after. His burdened heart soared. The Hopeful’s smiling face disregarded it all, though, and his malevolent eyes stayed fixed on Sophia.

“Argrave, the Gilderwatchers…!” Anneliese said in surprise, and he whipped his head back around to peer forward.

Just as Anneliese said, the Gilderwatchers flowed down the mountains of Blackgard like a rushing stream. After having only seen Vasquer for so long—inanimate and sluggish, after centuries of barbaric confinement—seeing these feathered serpents move so quickly looked alarming, almost off. They moved to engage the golden-armored knights. The matchup was fitting, considering these knights were likely the enslaved wills of their brothers and sisters manifested as Gerechtigkeit’s slaves.

“Finally, a break. Let’s hurry,” Argrave said with conviction, then looked back to where the Shadowlanders fought.

The Hopeful was an utter monster. He tore through the horde of rebel Shadowlanders pouring out from Guy’s portal like they were annoying flies instead of god-destroying entities that’d once been gods themselves. The rebel commander attempted to reform her ranks to keep him back, to hurt him… but all it did was slow him down. His white-toothed smile persisted all the while, eyeing Sophia like tasty food. Everyone else was pressed engaging Gerechtigkeit—no obstacle stood between him and Argrave.

Of everyone, Argrave knew he was the only one who stood even half a chance against the Hopeful. He started to consider the idea this might be his stop.