JACKAL AMONG SNAKES chapter-684-forced-march

Argrave was certainly no master of warfare. There was one thing that he understood very well, though, having once watched an entire one (1) video on Napoleon’s misadventures with the coalitions when he’d been bored, thus making him at least an expert in the field. Speed and maneuverability were incredibly important factors in any battle. Being able to reach a position, providing either timely reinforcement or carrying out a devastating blow to an undefended front, could often decide the fate of entire campaigns.

That was the crux of their defense strategy.

The benefit of being the defender was that one held a defensive position—the onus was on the other party to launch the attack. The castles and fortifications throughout Berendar could finally be put to good use. The primary instruction that Argrave had given each and all of the people throughout him domain was simply this: hold the line, and wait for relief. Argrave, and a few key other heavy-hitters, was that relief. freewёbnoνel.com

The hardest task didn’t rest on his shoulders, however. Elenore had expanded her network of mental connections to a vast degree to compensate for the loss of druidic magic. She was also supported by Lira, the goddess of connections. The two of them, together, received and processed communications from around the continent. They obtained reports, processed them, and gave judgment calls. It was unimaginably mentally taxing… yet Elenore was up to the task. Even someone as pretentious as Raven had acknowledged her genius.

And most importantly, Elenore could make the difficult calls without hesitating.

The first thirty seconds after everyone had departed was tense, and Argrave stared at Elenore as she listened to hundreds of voices in her head with some help from Lira. Finally, though, she opened her gray eyes, focused on Argrave, and gave the first command that ushered Argrave into non-stop battle.

“Reinforce Quadreign, immediately,” she said with certainty.

With a nod, Argrave called upon a blood echo that had been distributed long in advance. Ordinarily, maintaining an echo at such a long distance would be impossible—with sufficient focus, however, he could maintain countless in various different locations. He simply couldn’t employ them in the fight, lest that focus waver.

Argrave went from the pleasant warmness of Blackgard to the harsh cold of Quadreign in moments. Deafening noises and flashing lights disoriented him immediately, and he looked to the sky to see a power near equal to his own raging: the black flame of House Quadreign.

Hause’s ability had given Vasilisa of Quadreign the ability to wield her house’s purging flame as an extension of herself. All around, it raged defiantly against a swarm of insects of such scope that the sky itself had vanished. No more light reached the north—the only thing keeping this place illuminated was Quadreign’s black flame and the countless spells that ascended upward to fight the coming killers. The ground, too, was covered by bugs—centipedes, cockroaches, ants, all in such numbers they appeared to turn the ground into rolling waves of blacks and brown.

Vasilisa stood on the top of her family’s clock tower, wielding the flame as though she held two whips. She was frighteningly effective given how little time she’d had her power, yet the insects were so numerous she couldn’t keep them from entering the city. Already, entire houses were overrun, their inhabitants devoured in mere seconds. Argrave already stood amidst these swarms, protected only by Artur’s enchanted armor. Even wards broke in seconds before this insect tide.

“Elenore judged you’d need help,” came a voice from beside Argrave, and he turned his head to see Raven standing there. Any insects that came near him walked inside his body like they were welcome… and never came out, absorbed into his being.

“Trace the gods controlling the bugs using [Truesight]. They’re the key,” Argrave commanded quickly. “Then, help me kill them!”

Without waiting for an answer, Argrave closed his eyes and scoured Erlebnis’ wiki for something usable against this mass. [Apollyon] would work, but it used too much of his blood—he only needed to kill bugs, not gods. With the criteria of something with a large area of effect that couldn’t kill people, yet could still reach the creatures worming their way through the ground or the smallest cracks, it didn’t take long for him to find what he needed. Invented by a jungle explorer tired of mosquitoes, this spell had already been intended for a similar scenario… though on a lesser scale.

Argrave took a few moments to work out how to use [Blood Infusion] on the spell, then opened his eyes. He gathered the spell in both hands, then held his arms out. Two blood-infused pulses of electricity exploded outward, dispersing upon contact with either the ground or the copious swarms filling the area. Argrave continued to cast the spell, feeling it chip away at his vitality. Electricity began to course throughout the whole city. The swarms became clouds of red lightning, burning away into nothingness. As they died, essence delivered by Anneliese filled his being.

Argrave heard screams of pain as his electricity hit a great many citizens, but he considered that a good thing. Better they suffer some burns than die to hordes of bugs. After countless pulses of mosquito repellant, Argrave and Vasilisa together reached a stalemate with the bugs. And after a time…

“Traced it. Only one,” Raven shouted. “I’ll expose it.”

Raven held his arms out, over a dozen mana ripples echoing from hands growing from his body before a tremendous burst of fire cleared a massive stretch of insects. There, Argrave saw a putrid-looking wasp with a swollen abdomen that had holes inside of it, as if it were a beehive. Argrave didn’t hesitate to call upon a spell he and Anneliese had designed long in advance.

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Argrave held his arm up, and cast the S-rank [Godkiller]. His entire arm all the way up past his shoulder exploded into gore, and in its place, a bolt of pure blood magic rose to the sky. Argrave screamed in agony as he manipulated it with his will, sending it hurtling after the god of insects. It was fast—with a flight pattern rather similar to a dragonfly’s, it avoided Argrave’s attempts to hit it countless times. With his left arm, however, he prepared a lightning spell. At the right time, he struck it. The spell struck instantly, and when the god wavered for half a second, [Godkiller] slammed into it.

The spell was true to its word, and the god died immediately. As his blood magic consumed the resulting spirits, vitality poured into Argrave, and his arm returned to him as quickly as it disappeared. This horde of insects, broken of their unifying force, let out a sound so horrifying that Argrave couldn’t help but cover his ears. Everything became chaos, and millions, billions, perhaps even trillions of insects dispersed and turned on each other.

“The hold is broken,” said Raven once there was quiet enough, stating the obvious. “But the effects of this will be felt for years to come.”

“We can worry about that once we make sure there are years to come. Take me to Vasilisa,” Argrave commanded.

Raven grabbed Argrave, using shamanic magic to teleport them a short distance. Argrave arrived atop the belltower, where she still diligently wielded the black fire.

“Vasilisa,” Argrave shouted. “Need anything more? Any other threats?”

“None.” she answered, short of breath. “But I might need reinforcements. The gods you stationed here… they died in moments. And my sister… my sister was out there. She took the field, heading the army,” she said quietly. “Said it was her duty… as archduchess.”

Argrave looked back. On high, barely beyond the valleys, he saw the island city of First Hope. Its tower, made in imitation of the Tower of the Gray Owl, had toppled. Argrave couldn’t tell if anyone was alive or dead from this far. If things had been this bad here… beyond, could anyone survive?

“We can’t worry about that now,” Argrave said, both to her and to himself. “The people below—you have their lives in your hand. Remember that.” He looked to Raven, giving the man a nod. “I’m leaving. Stay in touch with Elenore.”

Argrave called upon one of many blood echoes lingering in Blackgard, letting his blood transfer him away. When he arrived before Elenore, he was reminded that this was the first of many relief efforts, and the first of many tragedies he’d have to bear witness to.

A deafening boom jolted Argrave, and he ducked low while looking about frantically. He moved to the window, seeing a huge beam of power leaving its mark in the sky. It seemed to have come from the Tower of the Gray Owl.

“That was… Ingo,” Elenore’s voice came weakly, and he looked at her to see her sweating a great deal. Lira looked similarly strained. “He sacrificed the tower to destroy the various storm gods.”

Argrave’s heart sunk—how many had died?

“The threat from the sky is gone,” she continued. “But Ingo is dead, Hegazar lost his magic, and Vera and Artur are both out of commission for the rest of the fight. They preserved most of the Magisters of the Gray Owl. Raccomen’s portal was destroyed, too—it’ll be harder for the gods to reinforce us, or us to reinforce them.”

Argrave inhaled deeply to swallow his shock, looking around. “Where are the others?”

“Dispatched,” Elenore explained quickly. “The north was the worst hit, but the others still have it bad. Head to Jast—Mina and Anneliese are holding out as best they can, but Nikoletta’s force was routed, and it might be wiped out. Be aware—Mina’s illusion spells have become reality, in a sense. Anneliese is there keeping her magic supply up. She’s doing incredibly well, but her attackers are just as fierce.”

“Got it.” Argrave nodded.

Argrave called upon the echo in Jast, and felt his body carried away by his blood toward the famed city of magic.

“Damn it…” Jaray cursed, then poured the ashes from his pipe onto a map of northern Berendar, where Quadreign was. “I had higher hopes for Emmyt. He was the closest to an ancient god we had. He underestimated Argrave… or maybe he didn’t. That black flame was unexpected. If he’d just hung back…”

“Right, sure. The closest. There’s no one else.” Another god shook his head with amusement. “Come on. Don’t you think it’s time to pull out the card? I know you, know your games.”

Jaray set his pipe down on the table, then nodded. “You’re right. Since you know me so well, Ail… do you have a courier ready for the god of deception?”

“All but.” The god of couriers smiled, pleased he’d predicted Jaray correctly. “What shall I tell Rook?”

“Tell Rook that we’ll open a path for him to kill Law,” Jaray said, and the other god nodded. “No one’s actually seen Lorena, but I have to think she’s on their side. That means they know our plans as soon as I’ve said them. Get a message to the force south of Jast, and have them fold inward on Parbon. Make Argrave choose—save Law, or save the Lionsun Castle.”

“Given two choices, Argrave often invents a third,” Ail counseled.

“You’re right, sadly…” Jaray took the counsel seriously, staring at the map hard. “Let’s give him a third choice, then. Don’t call off the force from Jast. Have them press Nikoletta’s band into this valley north of it, and divert those near Dirracha to pincer them. Durran’s resistance is going too well. Have Fellhorn retreat and attack Parbon, instead. His tides should be able to send some mountains tumbling down on the Lionsun Castle.”

“We’re concentrating our forces… dangerous. But it seems necessary,” Ail sighed. “Couriers are en route. They’ll have their orders in mere moments, sir.”

“I’ll take the field once Law dies.” Jaray packed his pipe again.

“Once?” Ail repeated.

“Do you think Argrave will save people, or save some ancient god?” Jaray shook his head. “Law is more useful to their cause, but Argrave values people more.”

“I get nervous when you say things so confidently.” Ail leaned over the map. “Guess we’ll see.”