/n/jackal-among-snakes-1520/c-202
chapter-201

Anneliese felt as though she had returned to the invasion of Berendar, where she stood at the helm of a Veiden longship leading men towards a great throng of foes defending their homeland. There was nervousness, anticipation, and a dim hum of fear beneath it all, larger and stronger and more consistent than any feeling. This was war, she felt. And the stakes went far beyond merely her life. She stayed calm despite these sensations, aided by her own nature and the enchanted items Argrave had given her.

The Waxknights marched ahead of Durran and her, armor clanging against the granite path beneath them. They fearlessly cut their way towards the legion of monstrosities ahead. Leopards with the heads of cobras shot out their fangs as poison projectiles, while badger-like creatures flapped their wings, ready to assail them from the sky. Laughter cut above all the sounds: Durran’s, she knew. The man usually had a haze of cynical depression at most times, but in life-or-death battle, he came alive.

The bard is the passive one, Argrave’s voice rang in her head. If you attack him, he’ll remain level-headed. He won’t attack you immediately. He’ll do nothing but hold you back, using his own men while he aids them passively and waits for reinforcements. Silvic will be interfering with his abilities, so it shouldn’t be as deadly as it normally is.

Anneliese could see the bard in the back. The Barefaced Bard, Argrave had dubbed him. He was a wetland spirit, the same as Silvic, though more massive than the other they’d seen, standing at perhaps ten feet. His head was like a spearhead, though unlike Silvic or the Intrepid Troubadour, it had a face of flesh. It was a child’s face, pale and smooth, and jarringly placed amidst wood so unnaturally it seemed to be painted on. Its eyes were closed, as though it were dead.

The Waxknights charged into the horde of unnatural Sentinels with practiced deadliness. The reason that Orion had insisted on bringing those of his knights that were also mages became obvious—they became a storm of spell and sword that made their charge increase in devastation tenfold as fire, ice, lightning, and the earth tore through the battlefield.

Their charge cut through the Barefaced Bard’s retinue with seeming ease for a time. The strange hybrid animals fell one after the other before effective attacks could be made. But the bard placed his hands against the ground, and his childlike face came to life, eyes opening to reveal empty sockets. He began to sing. The elaborate gardens of the palace became animate, the hedges and trees contorting in impossible manners to assail and obstruct their rush. Much of the granite pathway was turned over as roots bit at the Waxknights feet.

“Step back!” Anneliese shouted, using her commander’s voice again after so long.

As had been agreed before the assault, the Waxknights obeyed her orders. They retreated slightly, tangling with the bard’s assault of greenery. As if on cue, the Sentinels began a countercharge, the true heavy hitters of the opponent revealing themselves in earnest. A giant python twice as thick as a man’s torso lunged out, seemingly seeking to swallow the knights whole. A squad of gibbons rushed out, swinging so quickly from hidden places it was shocking.

Conserve your magic. Considering how many opponents you’re dealing with, big B-rank spells are best, so whenever you feel it’s prudent, use that B-rank spell you used in the Marred Hallowed Grounds. You know, with the twin iceblades, Argrave’s voice echoed like a reminder.

And she did. She advanced past the retreating Waxknights, towards the lunging python’s gaping maw, and conjured the B-rank matrix for [Icebound Twinblades]. Two blades of ice appeared before her, each held by a set of frozen arms attached at the shoulder, and each taller than her. The python’s jaw caught on one blade, but the two arms braced themselves undisturbed.

When the blades of ice began spinning and moving forth, the python was ripped free from the wall it clung to. It hung on for but a second before releasing its bite. It slammed against the outer wall of the palace, dislodging a gargantuan statue that toppled down, killing the giant python and several other creatures. All the while, the [Icebound Twinblades] cut through countless foes before her.

Anneliese staggered from the powerful spell, and when the icy mist settled, her gaze locked with the Barefaced Bard’s empty eye sockets. A chill ran through her. Roots surged up out of the ground, grabbing at both of her legs. She was pulled into oncoming enemies, yet resisted stubbornly. Just then, Durran stepped past. He cast a simple flame spell then stabbed his glaive through it, and the unique properties of the wyvern bone carried the spell with the attack. Durran cleanly severed the attacking roots. She was freed.

“Conserve your magic, Anneliese,” Durran reminded her. She could practically hear his grin through his gray wyvern scale helmet. “And good job.”

Grateful to him, she stepped back, commanding the Waxknights to advance once more. As she retreated behind them, she looked into the far distance. There, she saw an overwhelming presence approaching them all too quickly.

The jongleur is aggressive and foolhardy. I have no doubt he’ll rush towards you blindly as soon as he figures out that the bard is under assault, Argrave’s words came to her.

The Jolly Jongleur, as Argrave had called him, did not match his description particularly well. It was an ape, kin to the gibbons that had assaulted them during their journey through the wetlands. It was giant, though, and white. It ran atop the triangular rooftops of the buildings within the palace as though balancing on a tightrope, its arms as thick and long as the titanic python she’d just slain. It held a true sword in its right hand, and though the blade was thick, black, and crude, the liquid light teeming on its surface told of its true power.

The jongleur tore a spike off the tip of one of the roofs and threw it towards Anneliese with astounding ferocity. She barely had the time to use her ring to conjure a B-rank ward, and even the ward barely stopped the projectile.

She dared a glance to where Argrave waited, but the way light fell made her unable to see beyond the window.

It’s up to him, then, Anneliese noted mentally.