Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 698: Trial By Fire

Anneliese was the trapper, the shepherd. She kept the prey in line, prohibiting its movement with tactfully-placed wards from which it could not escape. Gerechtigkeit feared her wards, and Anneliese believed that fear was justified. If she could manage to trap him within one, it would simply be over. She snared his movement as her allies attacked, blocked his counterattacks as they repositioned, and dug sharp spears of magic when the calamity displayed vulnerabilities.

The spark she had wrested from eternity was a tool so versatile Anneliese almost feared her own power. A lightning that never ended, a tempest that never waned, a fire that never ceased, a seal that never broke—it was the stuff of legends. Were it not so singular, it might be comparable to Sophia’s power. Even as it was, nothing other than the calamity could hope to truly fight against it.

Yet even with the upper hand, the battle wasn’t without its share of losses.

The cornered wolf snapped and snarled as they tore chunks of flesh from its body, wearing it down piece-by-piece. In their desperate struggle, the battle surged upward through the valley north of Jast. The chase lasted hours. The narrow confines lowered their maneuverability, enabling Gerechtigkeit to all but escape up the road until he reached Dirracha. There, aid from the host of centaurs and the liches converged, warding the calamity from destroying the city entirely. Even still, half of the city was ravaged, either by golems or his own terrible power.

Thereafter Gerechtigkeit was forced west, toward Mina’s home city of Veden. Elenore assured Anneliese that its people had all but evacuated, yet nevertheless… the decision to pin Gerechtigkeit down on that location weighed heavily on her mind. It was strategically sound; they dealt grievous blows, but in the end, nothing remained of the city. Another sacrifice for a small victory.

A waning Gerechtigkeit tried to escape into the wetlands northward, but by this point all of their allies had gathered. Deities that were veterans of countless previous cycles descended upon his weakened forms like hyenas hoping to hasten a coming death that they might feast on glory and victory. In the end, it was one of Anneliese’s spells that extinguished him—a great bolt of white lightning that struck for eternity, dissipating his form into blackness.

Anneliese dissolved the lightning spell when he was gone, standing on a plain that looked much like the barren hellscapes she’d seen in the Shadowlands. Looking around her, it seemed this place had become a paradise for death. Burnt, ravaged by war, eaten by the calamity—Gerechtigkeit’s poison had seeped into the heart of Berendar. Those too young or too ignorant to know the truth appeared ready to celebrate… yet those that knew better looked to the sky, where the true trouble brewed.

One of Law’s Justiciars came to stand by here, a shadow of the towering golden deity that stood proudly and defiantly after the first phase of the battle was finished. He stared at the black storm clouds in the sky.

“How prepared are your people for the Trial?” Law asked of her.

“They know what to expect, at least,” Anneliese said, steadying her breathing. “But from what Argrave tells me, it isn’t something that one can truly prepare for. We must merely endure—and at a scale unlike any previous cycle.”

Above, the whirling vortexes in the clouds began to ripple with what had been promised for so long—fire. Fire as red as rubies, carried by the formless, sentient power of Gerechtigkeit. It began to entwine itself in the wind, in the clouds, in the rain and the snow… and spread itself across the whole of the land.

Droplets of fire rained down from the sky, one for every living soul. Anneliese could see ruby tears cut the sky like the blood of a god dripping onto the earth. She raised her hand up tentatively, feeling that one her eye followed would come to hit her. She didn’t move, didn’t dodge at all. The Trial by Fire was inevitable. No one had ever been able to avoid it. Gods of space, time, and all manner of arrogant beings had attempted to, but none had succeeded. Even with eternity at her back, she didn’t dare try, either.

The droplet of red fire touched the back of Anneliese’s hand… and with it came a searing pain so intense she howled in agony, falling to her knees. For an unimaginable time, her vision was reds and whites, and she was in total thrall to the pain. But as time passed, senses enough returned to look around. Around the world, the fire fell and consumed. It soaked into the soil, seeking those hidden underneath it. It crawled into homes, hunting those taking refuge. The pain was such even gods were reduced to worms, writhing on the floor with all the rest.

Anneliese thought of what Argrave had told her countless times, clinging to it to use her mind as a shield.

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In the game, the Trial by Fire was just a cutscene. If you hadn’t done certain people’s quests, they wouldn’t be able to endure it, and you’d lose them. They’d break, or they’d choose to end the pain. Here and now, though… Argrave seemed to think of it. It’s harmless, functionally. A grand illusion. So long as people are aware, they should be able to overcome. Just picture how good it’ll feel when it’s all over.

Anneliese slowly got to her feet, even though she could barely tell her limbs were moving. She forced herself to keep her eyes open even as the flames consumed the world. The fact her sight didn’t fade confirmed to her this fire was a mere fabrication. She clung to her curiosity about how such a flame functioned, using that curiosity to ground her in reality.

But once we get through the Trial… Argrave had said. It’ll be the home stretch. One final fight… for this world, at least.

Anneliese stood up straight. She was the sole able to do so in this field of pain. Yet… there was another who was surely standing. She could feel his life, humming inside her through their connection. Argrave. He was as much an anchor to her as anything else. With so much support, she wouldn’t ever succumb to pain. So long as he was alive, she’d be able to live as well.

#####

Argrave’s attempts to fight against the Hopeful in a more strategic manner had proved to spare him a great deal of pain, but didn’t produce much in the way of results.

The crawl of the shadowed abomination was unending, unerring, even as the well-constructed enchantments of Blackgard suppressed him to the point he paused every few steps beneath the weight of it all. The Hopeful’s shadows, that foul manifestation of his hunger and desire, was both an unbreakable shield and an unstoppable sword.

All that Argrave could try, he did. He tried gathering vitality using lesser spells cast by blood echoes to fuel an empowered [Bloodfeud Bow], but it was insufficient. The issue lied in the fact that the shadows could actually consume his typically-impermeable echoes. He tried using them to teleport in, deal a punchy attack, and teleport out… but the Hopeful was far too adept at using his power to ever let that happen.

Argrave—having already surrendered two checkpoints—retreated to a third, watching the Hopeful as the thing slowly craned against the pressure exerted by the arrays of the mountains of Blackgard. Looking back, Argrave could see that not many checkpoints remained. Elenore had spoken to him little, trusting him to deal with this matter… but if this carried on further, they would be in genuine crisis. With that mounting pressure in his head, Argrave once again looked upon the smiling giant of shadow.

In power, Argrave was outclassed. In skill at using power, he was outclassed. Few people could offer usable assistance, and they were all caught up with conflicts on the other side of the world. To that end, Argrave considered every last idea, every last bit of power that he had—the Brumesingers, some trick with the Domain of Law, some divine weapon that had gone unused, but… each and every trick came up wanting before this opponent.

It was only when the sun began to crest above the mountains signaling the entire night had come and gone was Argrave reminded of something that had failed once before. There was a conduit within him—an anchor, partially formed of the silver knight that had once stormed Blackgard with far greater success than even Gerechtigkeit had exhibited. It resided in the spot his soul ought to be.

Argrave could feel it within his being. It was a subtle feeling, and he generally did his best to ignore it. It was essentially an instant kill to whoever tried to reach within. Argrave didn’t think he’d be spared its wrath if he attempted to meddle with it. It was the link to the souls of every living being in the world—a link to the new sun. It held greater mental pressure than the Smiling Raven had endured. It was intended as a defensive measure, yet…

What if it could be more than that?

Argrave could feel his mind probe near the entrance to that hellhole buried within his body. Even peering inward from the edge was the closest he’d ever come to death—one misstep, and his undying soul would be battered by the weight of the world. Nothing could save him, then—his soul would surely shatter, his body would become an empty shell, and everything would fall apart.

But Argrave looked at the Hopeful, creeping down the valley in long strides. He thought of those who’d already died fighting—first against Jaray, and now against Gerechtigkeit. He thought of Anneliese, who’d claimed a power so great it seemed liable to win them this whole war. The Hopeful had come here to parasitize this world—it was only fair, then, that the full weight of every living soul bear down on him.

Above, black storm clouds filled the sky. Argrave knew what came next—the Trial by Fire. He inhaled as he realized what Anneliese had managed to achieve thus far, further sealing his conviction. He looked at the Hopeful again, the weight of what he was considering making his breathing heavier. The Trial affected all, even gods—it would surely affect the Hopeful, too.

Argrave was no stranger to pain. He found his power in it, and had developed thick calluses from the sheer amount blood magic caused. Perhaps, as ever, he might find his opportunity in the heart of it. Given all that he’d already endured… perhaps the Hopeful would prove himself less capable of enduring the Trial.

But even if he could punch through the shadows, Argrave would need an attack he was certain would end it all in one blow.

Argrave descended from the checkpoint, alighting again in the valley. He was heedless of the calamity raging above them, casting its pain-bearing fire to every corner of the world. Gerechtigkeit’s intent was to break lesser people beneath pain as he reconstituted for the final fight. But pain was Argrave’s bread and butter, and if he could truly get the whole world at his back… perhaps hope could be stolen from the shadows.

He faced the Hopeful once again. This time, his resolve to die was somewhat more genuine. He reached for that conduit buried in his body, preparing to use it as a weapon. And with his will steeled, he walked toward the shadow as the fire of pain came to cover the world.