Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave stared at Galamon as red mist poured out of his body. He was running things through his head in a panic, yet held out his hands to follow his course of action.

“Remember what we talked about, Galamon,” Argrave called out. “Stay conscious. All your years of experience in fighting this thing—use it. You are stronger than the beast.”

A spell matrix whirled in Argrave’s hand—one of C-rank. Then, his black blood started to come free of his hand, bringing the pain that came with blood magic all too familiar to Argrave. He used the spell [Putrid Paramerion], summoning a potent weapon of blood that took the form of the curved sword from which the spell took its name.

The red mist responded to this spell like piranhas smelling blood in the water. It started to flow towards Argrave, coalescing into biting fangs that threatened to chip away at the impeccable surface of the bloody blade.

“Muriem, Rhomaden,” Argrave repeated. “What do those names mean to you?”

Looking at Galamon, whose eyes had been completely obscured by the glowing red mist pouring out of his orifices, it was difficult to feel as though he was talking to a person.

“How did you meet Muriem?” Argrave asked, expecting no answer. He pulled the blade close to him and knelt until his face was level with Galamon’s. “And how did that lead to that little boy you named Rhomaden? I don’t need the details, just think about it.”

No noise came from Galamon, either way. The people nearby stared at Argrave strangely… all except Anneliese. In his free hand, Argrave cast another spell—a druidic spell. His Brumesingers scampered out of his clothing, surprising both Svetlana and Ganbaatar. The elf, who still held his wire around Galamon’s neck, had the forbearance to refrain from anything stupid. The small fox creatures hated the cold, yet they obeyed Argrave’s order nonetheless. Their mist spread out around them, prepared for combat.

“Keep him steady,” Argrave commanded all nearby. Then, he plunged the blade forth.

The curved sword of blood pierced Galamon’s abdomen, and the snow elf naturally writhed for a moment. The mist pouring from Galamon started to coalesce—not around the blade, but back into Galamon.

“Fight it!” Argrave shouted. “You don’t want this blood. The beast wants the blood. Let the beast have it—let the beast take it! But Galamon, you must refrain, because that’s not what you want,” Argrave said through clenched teeth, fighting past the enormity of his instincts that screamed at him not to hurt his companion.

Galamon’s body was contracting. His hands, rigid by his side, clenched and gripped and spasmed in so many ways. Yet then… Argrave started to notice something else beyond his movements. There was something else… a red echo, so faint it was almost indiscernible. Yet as the time passed, it became so obvious anyone could observe it.

To call the redness emanating from Galamon’s body an echo was not quite right. It did not merely follow what he did… indeed, it had different desires. It wanted the blood, the valuable black blood, placed right directly through it. And Argrave seized on that.

“Yes!” Argrave shouted. “Galamon, think of it! Think of food, of breathing, of drinking water again! Think of setting foot upon the frozen shores of Veiden! Think of stepping past the great ice wall, and setting foot in your home once again!”

The more Argrave spoke, the more this redness started to differ from what Galamon was doing. As though craning against invisible bindings, it reached, pulling against the force, trying to bring its hands inward to grasp the blade of blood plunged into its stomach. The surface of the blade started to chip away, and Argrave could only supply more blood to sustain it.

“What put death in your mind?” Argrave shouted at him. “Your end’s not in sight. Not until you’ve done what the world needs you to do. Your family, your friends… Damn you, you’re going to do what I need you to do. I got a big burden, and I ain’t so tough…” Argrave rose to his feet and put his boot on Galamon’s shoulder. “But you’ve got enough grit for the both of us. Blame fate, blame Veid… but you’re coming with me, Galamon.”

Argrave pushed down with his boot and pulled with both arms. Unlike how it entered, the paramerion fought dreadfully to stay stuck, and Argrave knew he’d hooked the fish he’d been baiting. All watched Argrave with shock and awe… then, the blade shot out, and Argrave staggered back. Galamon slumped over, no strength left in him, and Ganbaatar kneeled as he fell so as not to cut his head off.

When Argrave finally gained his footing… he abruptly realized he wasn’t the only one holding onto the blade of blood that he’d conjured. There was another, and they were larger than even him. With indiscriminate red features, Galamon’s vampiric beast looked at Argrave. And the red construct was most definitely alive. Anneliese had a spell matrix prepared, but obviously feared to cast when the beast was so closely entangled with Argrave.

Argrave barely processed this before the blade in his grip shattered beneath its intense strength. It lunged at Argrave, both hands rushing for his stomach. Argrave tried to retreat to the defense of his Brumesingers as was planned, but it was far faster. One of its hands pierced Argrave’s stomach. Extreme pain exploded from his gut. The other hand…

A southron elf warrior stabbed the vampiric beast through the arm… or rather, a mist warrior conjured by the Brumesingers had. Their chiming howls echoed and their mist spread out, and before long five spears held by five warriors thrust towards the vampiric beast. Recognizing the situation, it disentangled and leapt away with supernatural speed.

Argrave was no stranger to pain and kept his wits about him as he kept his eye on the vampiric beast that was Galamon’s double. As he healed the dreadful wound, Argrave was protected by the Brumesingers. The beast changed targets to Anneliese. The thing moved so ridiculously quickly that the only thing she could do was conjure a ward with her enchanted ring. The humanoid beast slammed against it, then gained its bearings and kicked off towards Vasilisa.

Vasilisa, even with her A-rank ascension [Matrix of the Body], could not react in time to its speed. She, too, barely managed to get a ward up. The creature learned from its brief encounter with Anneliese and was prepared to dart away, using both its legs and arms for tremendous speed. It made no sounds and left no trace, and that made it only more terrifying.

As it changed targets to Svetlana, Argrave was ruing underestimating the beast itself. It was a relatively weak, if speedy, construct that he assumed would be dispatched the moment people saw it. Even Anneliese, who had been informed beforehand, could not act fast enough. He neglected to make the proper preparations. As it neared Svetlana, Galamon, and Ganbaatar… he feared for the worst.

Anneliese felt comfortable to release her spell by this point and cast the B-rank [Cloudborn Chain]. It was a bolt of lightning that manifested as a quick moving chain. It struck the vampiric beast, and though a great bit of it was blown away, it reformed just as quickly. The lightning from the spell spread out along the ground, conducting through and shocking Svetlana. She staggered to the ground, yet managed to cast her own spell—a wave of fire.

The beast reeled away from the flames. Its head darted around quickly… yet then, seeing opposition from nearly every direction, made the most unexpected choice. It started to run away, heading away from the abandoned ranch house and towards the city. Anneliese cast more lighting spells, and Vasilisa joined in as well—the thing was so fast it could barely be tracked, let alone hit.

“Damn it,” Argrave cursed, his wound finally healed. He started conjuring [Electric Eels], yet already the creature was getting away. He feared some damage being done to anyone nearby.

A brief explosion of dirt puffed near the creature, and it rolled away. Argrave spotted a glint in the air, and realized Ganbaatar was standing… and his wires were free of Galamon’s throat. He threw out his left hand, and another knife flew through the air. The creature dodged again, and then made to keep running. Ganbaatar manipulated his hands, and the wires closed in. In not a second, the manifestation of the vampiric beast was cut in half.

Argrave, still fearing the worst, ran up beside Ganbaatar. The creature, utterly severed in half, persisted in solid shape as the two of them walked towards it. Its lower half was regenerating ever so slowly. Argrave felt like he was staring at an echo of Galamon. He was reminded of the time he’d seen the man frenzied by intense blood loss… this creature had fought much like him, then. It crawled away with its arms yet was not even half as fast as it had been.

“You undid your wires,” Argrave noted, breathing slightly heavily. He put his boot on the back of the creature, ceasing to conjure [Electric Eels].

“I felt his heartbeat,” Ganbaatar returned. The creature tried to reach at Argrave’s foot yet could not.

Argrave nodded. “I made a mistake. Didn’t realize this would cause us problems.”

“This is new ground. You couldn’t be expected to know,” Ganbaatar returned.

The vampire hunter retrieved his daggers with the wires attached, then knelt. He wrapped one wire around the vampiric beast’s neck and pulled it tight. Its head fell off… and then, exploded into mist. As he watched the elf, Argrave left out the part where he did, as a matter of fact, know this was coming. That lack of precaution nearly cost lives. If his allies had been less competent, it would have.

Ganbaatar looked back. “What’ll happen to him?”

Argrave also looked back, where he spotted Anneliese and Svetlana both running to catch up with them. Staring at Galamon, he only answered, “I’m not fully sure.”

Argrave knew numbers—the regeneration buff, the strength buff, et cetera… but those numbers were gone, now. This was reality. Argrave truly couldn’t say what would change of Galamon. All he knew was that his vampirism was gone.

Ganbaatar stepped away. “He must be exposed to the sun. Only then… will I be sure.”

Argrave nodded distantly as Anneliese caught up to Argrave. “I apologize,” she said at once. “You told me to be ready to kill it, and yet I was not. I feared hitting you…”

“It was my fault,” Argrave returned. “Didn’t retreat fast enough to give you that opportunity. It poked through my armor like cardboard.”

“I cannot say how my heart dropped… are you okay?” she questioned, looking down at his stomach.

“You know…” Argrave mused, feeling disconnected with reality as the adrenaline in him slowly faded. “Maybe this is the wrong time for inspiration…” he looked at her. “But I think I know how I’m going to ascend to A-rank.”

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