Howard was lost. He couldn't find his way through the ruins of the city. Even though there had only been two Corrupted, they had managed to reduce most of the houses to rubble. Still, most of the villagers had managed to escape, thanks to the soldiers' efforts—and the Summoned one's—for keeping the monsters occupied.
He moved clumsily through narrow alleys, barely wide enough for someone his size. But that wasn't his biggest problem. The Hounds had a sharp instinct. Even if their many arachnid eyes were flawed, their sense of smell and hearing were nearly perfect.
He didn't have many options. He could try to leave the city and disappear into the forest, but… would that really make escaping easier, or would it just turn him into an easier prey?
Why did I even do that? Attack a Corrupted? Jumping off a cliff would've been less suicidal.
The Hound was closing in. Its paws struck the ground with a dull, resonant thud. Howard's knees buckled. He looked back. Nothing. He turned into a street that had somehow been left intact, untouched by the assault. The buildings stood in shadow, but at least they were still standing. He ran without thinking.
And then—he collided with something. He fell backward, hearing another body crash beside him. A chill ran down his spine. But no… whatever he had hit was too small and too soft to be the beast.
When his vision cleared, he recognized the innkeeper. Her blonde hair fell over her face, her chest heaving with frantic breaths. She looked at him with trembling eyes.
"Howard… what the hell are you still doing in the city?" she asked, urgency lacing her voice.
Howard lifted his gaze. He was terrified, his arms shaking.
"A-a-a… C-Corrupted," he stammered.
The woman clenched her teeth and pulled him into a brief embrace.
"Easy, boy. It's all right." She tried to calm him, but Howard shook against her.
"Of course it is." A rough voice echoed from above.
The wolf dropped from a rooftop, foam dripping from its maw like rabid spit. Its many glaring eyes locked onto the trembling boy. The innkeeper froze. She couldn't even scream. Howard clung to her desperately.
The wolf grinned.
"Woman, let go of the brat. He'll pay for what he did… but you, maybe I'll let you live. What do you say?" The creature's gaze crawled up and down her form, and it licked its lips slowly. "On second thought… maybe I'd rather drag you back to my lair."
The woman shivered. Her body wouldn't move—she could only grip Howard's clothes tighter. The wolf shrugged.
"Well then, I guess I'll just have fun killing you both." It crouched, ready to leap.
The innkeeper fell to her knees, clutching Howard tightly. But before the monster could strike, a heavy blow split the air.
Kael stepped into view, spiked mace in one hand and shield in the other.
"I'm afraid today… won't be a good day for you," he said, trying to sound confident.
"How many damned humans are going to piss me off tonight?" growled the Hound, towering over them. Its countless eyes locked on the man. Kael trembled, trying to hold his ground. The beast's face twisted into a grin.
"You're no Summoned. What do you think you can do with that pathetic strength of yours?" The Hound idly swung its axe as it advanced.
"Isn't it obvious? I plan to protect the woman and the boy," Kael shot back.
"And why do you want to die today?" the Corrupted mocked.
"Old men like me are always ready to die. Besides, I plan to take at least one more Corrupted with me." A scarlet aura flared around him.
The wolf's eyes widened in surprise, recognizing the magic. A mocking laugh slipped from the beast's throat just as Kael raised his shield—just in time to block the Hound's strike. Sparks scattered among the rubble.
Kael stood his ground and swung his mace, but the Hound dodged easily. With a swipe, the beast struck his shield again, knocking him off balance. Then came a slash of the axe.
Kael quickly formed a gun-shape with his fingers just as the blade came down toward his neck. A small orb of energy shot from his hand, piercing the Hound's ear.
The beast roared, and Kael managed to stumble back—just enough. The axe cut the air in front of him. He braced to counterattack, but the Hound's kick caught him full force, slamming him into the ground.
"I'm sick of these damned humans," the Hound spat, approaching. One of its animal ears twitched in pain, a thin trickle of blood running down—but the wound was far from serious.
Howard looked around in desperation, but all he saw was rubble. The only open path was the one now blocked by the Corrupted. His breathing grew heavy. He wanted it all to end. He wanted the Hound to vanish. The innkeeper held him tightly against her chest, but even she couldn't soothe him. Her breathing was just as frantic, her eyes fixed on the scene before them.
Kael tried to rise, but the Hound's fist smashed him back down, cracking his nose and spilling blood across the ground. The creature grabbed him by the hair, lifting him face-to-face. Kael tried to raise his arms, to keep fighting… but his muscles had nothing left to give.
"A man who tries to protect others without the strength to back it up isn't brave—he's just an idiot, don't you think?" the Hound muttered.
He let go of Kael… only to drive a brutal punch into his gut. Kael was hurled into the wreckage, shards of wood exploding in every direction, toppling the lone column that still held one of the houses upright. The structure collapsed over the knight.
The Hound exhaled a weary sigh, then slowly turned his attention toward Howard and the innkeeper. His eyes gleamed with renewed delight. He watched them with morbid calm as he began to approach, dragging his axe over the gravel, savoring the feast to come.
The innkeeper shielded Howard's face as the Hound's floral jaws opened wide, fangs ready to tear into flesh. Then—footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, above them.
From the rooftops, a figure leapt clumsily, brandishing a broken-tipped sword. He descended in a vertical arc. Taken by surprise, the Hound swung his axe. Steel clashed against steel—sparks erupted—and the newcomer was hurled across the ground by the sheer force of the impact.
The Hound staggered slightly, stunned. He lifted his gaze to where the figure had jumped from. The innkeeper followed his eyes, a flicker of hope lighting up her own.
That hope faltered the instant she saw the man's condition: his body drenched in blood, his left arm hanging at an unnatural angle, and his sword's tip shattered—though its jagged edge still carried a deadly bite.
It was the same Summoned from before. Daion, the innkeeper remembered, as she watched him struggle to rise, forcing himself not to collapse. The Hound narrowed his many eyes in recognition.
"The Summoned… still alive?" he muttered under his breath. Daion straightened slowly, piercing blue eyes fixed on the Hound. "What became of Dort?"
Daion looked puzzled for a moment, then realized—he meant the Glutton.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm here… and he isn't," Daion replied, raising his blade toward the beast. He didn't know why, but a smile crept back onto his face, ignoring both pain and reason.
A stroke? he wondered briefly.
The creature's many arachnid eyes narrowed. Daion fleetingly questioned if spiders even had eyelids.
"You defeated my companion?" said the Corrupted, stepping forward. Its beastly limbs tensed, fur bristling, jaws spreading wide again like a grotesque flower. "Such an impressive feat. Allow me to reward you…"
Daion dashed as fast as his battered body allowed, sword gripped in his right hand. The Hound dragged up his axe and swung it in a savage upward arc. Daion threw himself to the side, barely dodging, and managed to cut across the beast's leg. The Hound dropped briefly to one knee as a thin trickle of blood ran down its thigh.
With a painful leap, Daion raised his weapon, but the beast reacted instantly, lashing him with its tail. Daion crashed down onto his broken left arm, screaming in agony. The Hound spun on its axis and brought its axe down in a furious strike. Daion lifted his blade just in time, deflecting the blow. The axe bit deep into the ground, sending dust and rubble flying.
With jaws gaping wide, the Hound lunged. Instinctively, Daion kicked it square in the snout. The beast staggered back, dazed. The Summoned forced himself to rise in a jump, legs cracking and screaming in protest.
Using the momentum, Daion charged straight at the Hound, aiming for its chest.
"Come on, come on, come on!" he shouted to himself. I just need to pierce its heart… and they'll be safe.
Just inches from the beast, the Hound caught his arm. The sword trembled. Daion pushed with every ounce of strength he had left, but with only one usable arm he could barely force the blade against the Corrupted's resistance.
"Please… just a little more."
The Hound exhaled with relief. With a sudden motion, he flung Daion to the ground. The Summoned slammed down hard, landing right in front of the innkeeper and Howard. He barely managed to raise his head. His eyes met theirs. The woman trembled, her gaze bright with unshed tears. And he recognized the boy—the same one who had attacked him earlier.
Yes… just like that woman from my dream, he told himself. Is that why I'm pushing myself so far? Or am I just that much of an idiot?
Even so, he fought to rise again. His strength was nearly spent. He could feel his bones shifting in ways they shouldn't. Blood poured from his wounds. The temptation to give up—to let it all end here—weighed on him.
Daion rose, trembling. His body locked stiff, jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might shatter. Yet his sword was still in hand. He looked at the woman and child, his back to the beast.
The Corrupted panted heavily, steam hissing from its maw, as a long tongue slid from its floral jaws, licking across its own face.
"So even though it's humanoid… it still has an animal cooling system," Daion deduced, glancing over his shoulder.
He was dying. He could feel the blood stop reaching his brain, his vision turning blurry. He lifted his head with his eyes shut, trying to focus. With each passing second, his body slowed, his thoughts slowed… but still, one phrase kept echoing in his mind.
"You can't be dead if you can still smile, right?" he remembered a male voice, one he was sure used to spout all sorts of nonsense. "When it's time to die, let's do it smiling. That way we'll know if we're still in control of our bodies."
It was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard—he was certain of it. And yet, his body responded. Any foolishness brought him comfort in that moment, and he managed a faint smile. Relief washed over him knowing he could still control his body, if only for a few more seconds.
The Hound noticed, irritated that he was reacting—even while losing.
"Want to know something interesting about my kind?" the beast growled, its jaw opening and shuddering with each word. "We can only use our howl five times a day. That's why we ration them. I used one when I slaughtered those soldiers… another when I tried to kill you and the brat jumped in the way…"
Daion didn't fully understand where this was going. He couldn't move—his legs ignored every command. All he could do was wait… or endure.
"Another one earlier this morning, while hunting… and the last one…" Suddenly, its throat swelled unnaturally. Daion's eyes went wide in panic as he saw the corrupt Omega energy swirling inside the Hound's gullet, opening like a deadly flower. "…Right now."
Daion turned his head, ready to throw himself aside. But the Hound didn't react to the feint. It wasn't aiming at him. Its sights were locked ahead—on the two figures crouched in front of him.
Daion twisted his head—and froze. It's a bluff… He wouldn't waste a charge on them. Move, and he'll redirect it toward you, he told himself.
But the Hound's gaze never wavered from its target.
And Daion's body refused to move.
What the hell are you doing, idiot!? If you die, they die too… and the Corrupted will go after the survivors. Everything will have been for nothing!
The Hound unleashed the sonic blast. Daion saw it coming—concentric rings of Omega energy expanding like waves of death. He heard the screams ahead and acted on instinct. He spread his arms wide… and stayed still.
A woman and a child, of course… Damn protective instinct and my stupid memoryless brain!
The wave slammed into his back. He felt every bone in his body rattle and fracture, his organs crashing against each other, his ribs snapping like dry twigs. His wounds tore wider, blood pouring from every opening in his face. He even felt his eyes on the verge of bursting. Agonizing seconds stretched into eternity before the attack finally ended.
Daion collapsed to his knees. Blood streamed from his body in torrents, pooling into a crimson stain beneath him. His gaze fell on the pair staring at him in horror, frozen, unable to move. He moved his lips… but no sound came out.
Why am I still alive? he wondered, letting his sword slip from his grasp. It hit the ground with a metallic clang. Even if my body's tougher… that should have killed me.
His head grew heavy, his body leaning forward—when the Hound seized a fistful of his hair and yanked hard. Daion grimaced as his scalp stretched painfully, forcing his eyes to stay open.
The Corrupted let out a guttural chuckle before releasing his hair, only to grip the back of his neck instead. Its furry fingers wrapped around his throat with a disgusting warmth, not squeezing completely—just enough to keep him breathing.
"I held back the force of that howl to make sure you survived. Now tell me… how many howls do I have left? Can you count them, little Summoned?" the beast crooned mockingly, almost playfully, as the claw of its index finger pricked Daion's neck, slicing the skin just enough for blood to well up. "Who should I kill first? Want to watch that blonde whore's brains splatter across the ground?"
The innkeeper smothered a scream and turned away, silently sobbing, powerless. Howard, trembling, looked at the Summoned and whispered something. Daion didn't hear it—his eardrums had ruptured. He didn't even know why he could still hear the Hound, but he saw the boy lower his head in surrender.
There has to be something… some way out. He tried to struggle, but it was useless. His muscles were shredded—barely able to tense. His bones felt like they'd been ground into flour. I REFUSE TO DIE LIKE THIS!
He managed to move the fingers of his right hand. It surprised him. He could still clench a fist… but what good would that do?
Then, when he glanced down, he saw it. His sword, just inches from his hand. The gauntlet still glimmered faintly, as if calling to him, whispering: Do it.
He remembered how, every time he summoned his sword, it was drawn to him with such force that it always struck like a whip.
"Still haven't decided? Fine…" The wolf's throat began to swell again. Daion had known it from the beginning: that was its weak point, the most obvious one. But it only exposed itself for a few seconds… and it contained a massive charge of omega energy. No one would be stupid enough to attack it. Luckily, he was about to die. "First I'll kill those two… and then I'll cut your throat. Enjoy the show, Summoned."
The Hound's jaws opened wide. Its throat glowed violently. In that instant, Daion summoned his sword. It shot upward with force, slamming into his open palm. He clenched it with every ounce of strength he had left and, using the weapon's momentum…
"Ghhh…" the Corrupted groaned as the broken tip of the blade drove deep into its throat with a sickening sound. Daion's bloodied arm slipped from the hilt and dropped limp, dangling like a severed rope.
Momentum had done the work: the blade had pierced straight through the Hound's neck. The beast released him, a thin line of blood trickling from the wound. It staggered upright, stumbling as it tried to clutch its swollen throat. But the sword slid free and clattered to the ground with a harsh, metallic clang that shattered the silence—loud, final, ominous.
Then, the Omega energy began to leak.
The Corrupted tried to scream… but its vocal cords were shredded. Its throat kept swelling, desperately seeking a way to unleash the colossal energy it had charged. And then, with a roar so fierce that—even with his ruptured eardrums—Daion felt it in his chest, everything exploded.
The Hound's head ballooned grotesquely. Its many eyes burst one after another, spilling thick yellow fluid. The innkeeper threw herself to the ground, shielding Howard with her body. Daion barely turned his head in time to see it: the wolf's head blew apart.
A violent mixture of brain matter, blood, and corrupted energy blasted in every direction, hurling Daion against the pavement like a ragdoll.
He landed on his side, drenched in his enemy's fluids. His mind began to fade, unsure if he was merely passing out… or truly dying. And yet, right in front of him, he caught sight of a pulsing chunk of brain.
The Summoned managed a faint smile.
"At the end… there really were whore's brains on the floor." That was the last thought that crossed his mind before darkness closed in.
Whether he died or not… one thing was certain: he would have to face that god again.
End of Chapter 12.