Jackal Among Snakes, Book 5: A GameLit Fantasy by Nemorosus

Author:Nemorosus [Nemorosus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Galamon pressed forward a fair bit ahead of Argrave, his metal boots impacting with the cold stone impressively quietly. Their strategy for the advance was quite simple—these vampires would rely on their senses to search out living things. Galamon, being a vampire, would have a better chance at surprising his foes. Argrave would serve as the eye-catching distraction.

To that end, Argrave had three electric eels swirling around his body, illuminating his surroundings through the beige smoke that assailed from every direction. The smoke stung his eyes, the sensation reminding him of swimming eyes-open through a pool with chlorine in it. He remained ready.

This place was a catacomb. It appeared to be a warrior’s tomb specifically, with statues depicting armored knights erected just behind stone sarcophagi. The opening section was a long, long hallway of stone coffins. Primitive traps, detectable even by Argrave’s unskilled eye, lined the floor—snares, caltrops, the like. It was the beginning of the vampire’s preparation. They thought the smoke would be able to stop any from entering for a long while, evidently.

Deep in the tomb, Argrave could hear the faint scrape and stir of scrambling. The long hallway opened up into many a larger chamber divided by a pillar down the center, and Galamon knelt down, gaze intent. He scanned the place. Argrave counted six openings, each leading into different rooms—offering rooms, he recalled, where the living could leave gifts to the departed. After a long silence, Galamon pointed to each opening, displaying on his fingers how many people were in each room.

Heaviest on the right side, was Argrave’s conclusion. With that in mind, he gestured right, and Galamon gave a nod of confirmation. He moved slowly and quietly, while Argrave remained in place. Once Galamon took his position just beside one of the rightward entrances, Argrave advanced.

Once he passed a certain point, a great roar echoed out, and three pale-skinned people wearing clothes too fine for a tomb stepped out of their recess, tossing daggers adeptly. They did not seem like monstrous beings—they appeared like ordinary men and women, and even resembled particularly well-dressed aristocrats.

But their daggers flew through the air as quickly as any arrow. Having been given ample warning, Argrave conjured a B-rank ward with his ring. Metal clashing against magic and battle cries echoed across the tomb, giving signal the battle had begun. Argrave scanned the three foes for any spellcasters but found none. Not all had the magic affinity for such a vocation, fortunately, elsewise vampires would be a much more potent force.

Galamon lunged and grabbed the closest, clutching his wrist. He pulled the vampire forth effortlessly, slamming him into one of his partners. The third reared back, retrieving more throwing daggers. Galamon’s speed had always been astounding, but with royal-forged armor and the crown both empowering him, he seemed naught but a dark gray blur. He jammed his Giantkiller in the vampire’s neck before he could ready another attack, then turned and cut it out, severing his head.

Vampires on the

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