CHAPTER 77: DEVIL BAT EXPEDITION [2]

As everyone examined themselves, checking armor, wiping blades, and tending to light wounds, some of the Guardsmen moved among the fallen, delivering finishing strikes to bats that still twitched with stubborn life. The hiss of breath through clenched teeth, the soft groan of wounded men, and the crackle of torchlight filled the cavern.

Then it came again. The sound of wings.

The beating air was like distant thunder rolling through the tunnels, and it was no longer distant. Heads turned sharply toward the echo. Tension shot through the company like lightning through a field of blades.

Hound, who had been squatting before a Guardsman, inspecting a long gash along his arm, froze. His crimson eyes narrowed. He sniffed once, then sprang to his feet like a coiled spring loosed.

In a heartbeat, he was moving.

With inhuman speed, his powerful frame blurred forward, his claws leaving gouges in the stone floor as he dashed toward the growing sound. His breath came in steady, rumbling growls. The white fur along his back bristled like spears. He unsheathed his twin Mountain Sabers with a shing of steel that echoed like a challenge.

Just as the five incoming bats screamed into view, Hound leapt.

He soared into the air with terrifying grace, a blur of muscle and white fur. At the apex of his jump, his arms crossed, then slashed outward in an ’X’, his sabers cutting clean through the air and into the lead bat’s chest.

A crisscrossed gash burst open, and blood exploded from the creature like a fountain.

The bat shrieked in agony as its wings flailed, its momentum lost. It tumbled through the air, eyes already dimming, and struck the ground in a twitching heap.

Still in midair, Hound didn’t slow. He twisted violently, using the force of his spin to hurl one of his sabers like a javelin. It spun end over end and slammed into the gut of the bat to his left. The blade sank to the hilt, skewering the creature midflight. It screamed once, then dropped like a stone.

But Hound wasn’t done.

Turning with the last of his spin, his legs extended outward, his clawed feet slicing through the air. With savage precision, his thick, hooked talons tore across the chest of a third bat, raking deep into flesh and bone.

The bat let out a strangled cry, its ribcage collapsing inward with the force of the blow. Its broken body hit the ground like a corpse tossed from a rooftop, sending up a choking cloud of dust.

As he fell, he stabbed his blade into the wing of another, opening his protruding mouth and biting off a chunk of its neck while it screamed.

Thud!

Hound landed on both feet in a crouch, claws digging into the stone. Blood dripped from the edges of his maw. His chest rose and fell slowly, like a beast savoring the kill.

Then, a flicker in his peripheral vision, movement. The last bat was coming for him, wings stretched wide, mouth gaping open to reveal a mouthful of jagged, yellowed fangs dripping with saliva.

Hound’s lips curled into a snarl. His crimson eyes flared. His body tensed, then lunged forward.

Just before the bat’s jaws could close, Hound leaned his head back and snapped it forward in a brutal headbutt.

The impact was like a hammer striking stone.

With a sickening crunch, the bat’s fangs shattered against Hound’s skull. Its cranium caved in from the force, and the creature fell limp instantly, dead before it even hit the ground.

Blood streamed from Hound’s forehead, trailing down his muzzle, but he didn’t flinch.

With a guttural grunt, he turned toward the second bat, the one he’d skewered and approached. The hilt of his saber jutted from its twitching body. He gripped it tightly, planted a foot against the bat’s ribs, and ripped the blade free with a wet sound.

Then he spat on the corpse.

"Disgusting creature," he growled, his voice rough like gravel dragged across iron.

As he turned to return to the line, he found all eyes on him.

The soldiers, Guardsmen, Archers, even Soren stared in awe. Their expressions ranged from astonishment to reverence, but they all shared one truth: they had just witnessed a storm incarnate. A commander who didn’t bark orders from the rear, but charged into the heart of chaos with blade and fang.

Kaelor, standing with Keranous resting on his shoulder, let a small smile tug at his lips. This was exactly the kind of strength he demanded in a commander. A warrior who could turn the tide of war. A symbol to inspire. Hound was just a hunter of beasts, but now, it seemed he would soon hunt both man and beast.

Kaelor didn’t utter a word.

He simply began to move, stepping deeper into the blackened heart of the cavern. The silence of command carried more weight than any rallying cry. Without hesitation, his soldiers followed, blades drawn, breath steady, their spirits alight with renewed fervor. The thunder of Hound’s rampage still echoed in their veins, stirring the fire of battle in every heart.

It was not their commander who screamed.

It was the beast within each of them, awakened.

The air grew colder as they descended further. Shadows thickened like a creeping mist, and the ceiling above rose higher with every step, vanishing into darkness. The walls expanded, opening into a vast, hollow cathedral of stone. But this temple bore no sanctity, only death.

There were bones everywhere.

The remains of creatures, different beasts, littered the ground in grotesque piles. Broken ribs jutted out like jagged teeth from brittle torsos. Skulls stared blankly from beneath the dust. Femurs snapped underfoot with every step. The floor had become a graveyard so thick with death that the living had no choice but to walk upon it.

Then Kaelor’s pace slowed.

Without turning, he lifted his hand in a clenched gesture.

Instantly, the first row behind him stopped. The second followed. Then the third. Row after row, like ripples freezing over a lake, came to a still halt, until even the archers at the rear fell silent and unmoving.

The only sound was the soft, unsettling crunch of settling bones beneath their feet.

Beside Kaelor, the Cerberus let out a low, rumbling growl. Each of its three heads peered forward into the darkness, eyes narrowed, fangs bared. Something stirred in that void ahead, something no torchlight had yet touched. Even the Bloodkin with their gift of night vision squinted in vain.

Then Kaelor spoke. "Can you hear that?" he asked, his voice low, calm, yet razor-edged.

He tilted his head toward Hound, who stood just to his left.

Hound’s white-furred ears twitched.

His posture changed, subtle but unmistakable. Shoulders hunched. Claws flexed. He inhaled deeply, sniffing the air. The hair along his forearms bristled.

A sound, faint yet pulsing, echoed from the dark. Kaelor’s expression turned solemn. His jaw set and without a word, he stretched his hand backward.

A soldier immediately stepped forward and pressed a torch into his palm.

Kaelor stared into the flickering flame. It danced like a whisper from the abyss.

Then his voice rang out, low but commanding. "Drop your torches. Strap your shields."

The men obeyed without hesitation. Torches fell to the ground, one by one, hissing and spitting sparks as they struck the bones below. Shield straps clicked into place, echoing softly like the drawing of a thousand arrows.

Kaelor raised his arm.

Then hurled the torch into the void.

It spun end over end, a fiery comet streaking through the darkness, its light carving a path through the unknown.

Two hundred meters away, It struck the stone with a soft clack, and rolled to a stop, flames licking hungrily upward.