Oliver staggered to his feet, ribs heaving, and barked, defiant, a broken call of courage. The rothounds froze mid-chew, blood dripping from their maws, then turned as one, abandoning Renny's torn body. Their yellow eyes locked on Oliver, circling him, growls rolling low and hungry.
Renny lay sprawled, panting in shallow bursts. His abdomen was ripped wide open, insides spilling across the dirt, his face twisted and disfigured from the mauling. He exhaled in ragged gasps, clinging to life by threads.
Pathetic. That was all his mind spat at him. Even with resources poured into him, he had failed to complete a simple combat task. Sick all his life, sheltered, weak, maybe if he had known more fights on earth, felt more blood on his knuckles, he wouldn't be here. He had never even been chased by a dog before… how could he ever hope to fight monsters like these?
His vision dimmed. His breathing slowed.
Then came Oliver's whimper.
Through the haze, Renny saw him, a loyal, broken beast, body battered yet still hurling itself at the rothounds. They seized him, tearing and slamming him to the ground, again and again. Still, Oliver rose each time, only to be crushed down harder.
Renny's throat clenched. Oliver… the one he had promised to protect, the one he had sworn to save along with his family, still found the strength to rise… only to save him.
The irony gutted deeper than the wounds.
Pain. Pain. Pain. The word pounded through his skull, a cruel chorus. His life had been nothing but pain, and yet he feared it, dreaded it, cowered before it. He was supposed to have tolerance, to endure, but still, he could not take it.
"What kind of demon are you, Renanyo?" The voice in his head hissed, cruel and mocking. "How can you have an edge… and still be afraid to use it?"
"I tried…" Renny rasped, his throat thick with blood. "It's unbearable."
"Unbearable?" The voice sneered. "Your very existence is unbearable. Maybe the universe was wrong to choose you as the new Ezraphor. Because look at you, groveling in your own blood like a worm. Even Oliver had more grit than you. And you... you're supposed to be the king."
"Yes…" Renny nodded weakly, breath rattling. "I… can be the king."
"No, you can't."
"I can."
"You can't."
"I can!"
"Then prove it."
The command slammed through him like a hammer.
Something in Renny snapped open. His left eye seared, burning with an agony sharper than all his torn flesh combined. Then a violent, purple blaze burst from his royal eye, so bright it tore into the dark like a beacon.
His wounds began stitching themselves closed in a rush of raw power, flesh reforming, bones knitting, blood retreating back into his veins. The rothounds froze mid-maul, their heads twisting back to glare at him as if sensing a predator's rise.
Renny pushed himself up, first to one knee, then staggered upright, chest heaving. His body was whole again, but the torment hadn't left. No, it had concentrated, burning hotter than ever in his left eye. Every second he kept it open was like being ripped apart all over again.
He had traded one pain for another. And yet, through that unbearable agony, he stood, staggering forward, one hand clamped over his royal eye. His breaths came ragged, each exhale trembling with agony. Then, slowly, he lowered his palm.
The hounds snarled back at him, but through the Royal Eye, something had changed. There were more fracture points now, more than his demon eyes ever revealed. He could filter the noise now, shutting out every other current of energy, every distraction. There was only the weakness.
And it was beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful.
Renny's lips curled into a shaky grin as he bent down and picked up his dagger. The hounds snarled, but he didn't care. He didn't even flinch. Pain roared through his skull, but he held the eye open.
Then he bolted.
One by one, he struck. His dagger flashed, driving straight into the glowing fracture points in their skulls. Every time steel met fracture, the hound convulsed, bones shattering outward from skull to tail in a chain reaction, collapsing them into nothing but twitching sacks of flesh and blood.
Some broke and tried to flee. It was all to no avail. He chased them down, cutting them apart at their seams, dismantling them with ruthless precision.
The hound he'd knocked unconscious earlier had risen, jaws wide, lunging from behind in a desperate ambush.