Chapter 185: Three Hounds

  Inside a house in Reinhart, a dimly lit room reeked of burnt herbs and bitter chemicals.

  Scattered papers filled with scrawled notes and arcane symbols littered the floor, and shelves overflowed with vials, dried plants, and curious powders.

  A man stood at the center of this chaotic space, his eyes gleaming with manic excitement as he hovered over a bubbling cauldron.

  He had spent months gathering the rarest of ingredients, traveling deep into the southern towns and forests to obtain the elusive Dreamleaf.

  The powder — delicate and potent — was said to push the boundaries of human potential.

  Now, with everything in place, his greatest experiment was about to be realized.

  The man crushed several ingredients into a thick, pungent paste, muttering to himself all the while.

  The scent was sharp and acidic, biting at his nose. Carefully, he scooped the mixture into the simmering yellow liquid, stirring with deliberate, almost reverent motions.

  As the concoction boiled, it hissed violently before calming — the yellow smoke curling upward like a living thing. His heart pounded with excitement. Finally… after all this time.

  He carefully poured the yellow liquid into a jar, steady hands betraying his anxious grin. With a triumphant chuckle, he reached for a small vial of powder and added it to the mixture, watching as the liquid pulsed and swirled into a rich golden hue.

  The man’s face lit up in exhilaration — this was it.

  "This is it... this is it!" he muttered to himself, voice shaking with glee.

  He retrieved a syringe and filled it with the shimmering liquid, holding it up to the flickering candlelight like a sacred relic.

  For months, he'd been drawn to Reinhart for its openness to magic — no ignorant mobs, no fear-driven persecution. He could work in peace here.

  His former village had called him a madman — a threat. But they simply hadn’t understood his brilliance. Now they'll see, he thought, grinning to himself.

  With an eager gulp, he drank a strange blue liquid — a stabilizing potion he'd prepared to ensure his body could endure the transformation.

  Then, without hesitation, he plunged the needle deep into his arm, injecting the golden liquid directly into his veins.

  For a moment, nothing happened. The man smiled widely, feeling victorious. But then.

  His chest seized violently. His muscles locked, and a sudden burning sensation tore through him as if his blood had turned to molten iron.

  He collapsed to the floor, clutching his chest. Pain bloomed through his body — unbearable, relentless. He gasped and writhed, tears streaming down his face.

  "I- I don't want this!" he cried out between strangled breaths. "I... I don't want this anymore... please, Mommy... MOMMY!"

  His voice broke into guttural sobs, until his cries faltered into strangled gasps — and then, silence.

  For a moment, the room was still. Then his body began to twitch. Bones cracked and popped as his limbs twisted and bulged unnaturally.

  His skin darkened to a slimy, mottled green, and thick, rubbery tentacles burst forth where his legs once were.

  His face contorted, jaws widening into a grotesque crocodilian snout lined with jagged, needle-sharp teeth.

  Eyes — dozens of them — bulged and swelled along his spine, stretching all the way to his grotesque, twitching tail. The creature exhaled a deep, guttural growl, venomous saliva dripping from its maw.

  The man was gone — all that remained was an abomination of flesh and madness, a monster born from reckless ambition.

  Outside of the house, the evening air had been calm, with the soft hum of everyday life filling the streets of Reinhart.

  Lieutenant Pete, short, quiet, and wary, walked steadily down Walnut Street, his boots tapping rhythmically against the cobblestone. This was his route — his street — and for months now, it had been peaceful.

  Despite the tranquility, Pete’s heart felt heavy. The loss of Lieutenant Niko weighed on him. The memory clung to his mind like a fog, clouding his focus.

  They had trained together — long, grueling hours spent learning how to control their earrings. For Pete, that training had been invaluable.

  The strange mouth that appeared on his palm whenever he activated his artifact had once been difficult to control, but Niko’s persistence and guidance had turned that once-awkward power into something fluid and instinctual.

  Their bond had grown strong in those sessions — and now Niko was gone.

  Pete tried to bury the pain, understanding that loss was part of the job. Still, it wasn’t easy.

  He walked alongside two officers, exchanging casual greetings with townspeople along the way. Children played in the streets, their laughter echoing down the narrow alleys.

  The officers' conversation drifted toward promotions, and one of them asked Pete if he'd ever apply for a second artifact.

  Pete shook his head with a small smile. "Nah," he said. "Plenty of capable officers deserve a shot at one of those. I’ve got enough on my plate already." He paused, then added, "With Burt coming back... the town’s in good hands. We’re secure."

  He wanted to believe that. The new roads, the growing population — Reinhart’s expansion demanded stronger leadership, but Pete had faith.

  More lieutenants were rising to meet the challenge, and with Burt’s rumored newfound power, Pete felt the town had enough guardians to keep it safe.

  Just as he was about to continue, the house beside them shook violently — the walls bulging outward with a loud crack.

  BOOM!

  The wall burst apart in a spray of shattered wood and stone as a grotesque, oversized crocodile head crashed through the debris.

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  Pete barely had time to react before the beast lunged forward — jaws unhinging wide enough to swallow a man whole.

  CRACK!

  The creature’s teeth snapped shut around Pete’s head and shoulders in one brutal motion.

  Blood spurted from the wound as Pete’s muffled scream was swallowed along with him.

  The monster jerked back, dragging Pete’s mangled body deeper into its throat with a sickening gulp.

  "NO!" one of the officers cried out, staggering back in horror. His hand shot to the bell at his waist, ringing it frantically as his other hand reached for his sword.

  "Civilians! Get back!" the second officer shouted, unsheathing his blade.

  The townspeople scattered in a panic as the beast’s bloated body twisted unnaturally.

  With terrifying speed, its tentacle-like limbs lashed out, propelling it forward with unnatural grace.

  It lunged again — this time clamping its jaws around the second officer’s torso. Bones crunched audibly as the man’s body twisted and crumpled in the creature’s maw.

  His lifeless form was dragged backward, disappearing down the beast’s gullet like a snake swallowing prey.

  The last remaining officer stood frozen in place. His face drained of color, his hand trembling so violently that he nearly dropped his sword.

  His breath hitched as the abomination’s many eyes locked onto him — cold, predatory, and filled with insatiable hunger.

  The creature coiled its tentacle legs, preparing to pounce. The officer could only watch in paralyzed terror — until a searing FWOOOSH! lit up the street.

  A fireball shot from the side, colliding with the beast’s face and exploding in a wave of heat and flame. The monster recoiled, letting out a distorted, guttural roar that rattled the air.

  Emilia sprinted into view, her orange hair wild and plastered to her sweat-drenched face.

  Her freckled cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was heavy, but her eyes — sharp and fierce — stayed locked on the creature.

  The red wand in her hand smoldered faintly, glowing with heat as wisps of smoke curled from its tip.

  She took a defiant step forward, planting herself firmly between the monster and the terrified officer.

  “Get back!” she barked. “I’ve got this!”

  Her grip on the wand tightened as she prepared to unleash another volley of flames.

  The monstrous crocodile’s many twisted eyes fixated on Emilia, its grotesque head tilting slightly as if analyzing her.

  A guttural growl escaped its gnarled throat — low, menacing, and brimming with predatory hunger. Then, without warning, it lunged forward.

  Emilia reacted instantly, her wand flaring to life as she fired another fireball.

  The blazing projectile struck the creature square in the face, detonating in a burst of flames and smoke.

  The beast staggered, thrashing its head as scorched scales sizzled beneath the heat.

  But Emilia knew better than to celebrate too soon. Her heart pounded as she felt the dangerous heat rising inside her own body — the telltale sign of the wand's cost.

  The artifact was powerful, but the energy it drew drained her dangerously fast.

  The heat prickled beneath her skin, her breathing growing heavier. If she wasn’t careful, dehydration or unconsciousness could take her down faster than the monster itself.

  Still, she kept her stance firm, biting back her exhaustion. The creature was immense, its bloated body armored with hardened scales and jagged spines.

  Her fingers twitched, gripping the wand tightly — until she caught sight of movement from the corner of her eye.

  Relief flooded her chest as Samir and Sander appeared with their officers, fanning out and taking position.

  Samir’s lantern flared, golden chains slithering outward in preparation, while Sander’s fork-turned-sai hummed with latent energy.

  The beast bellowed into the sky, a reverberating roar that shook the air.

  “Hold your ground!” Samir barked, voice sharp and commanding. “Protect the civilians and contain that thing!”

  But before they could act, a calm yet powerful voice called out from behind.

  “Wait... this one’s mine.”

  The officers turned, surprised to see Burt approaching with deliberate steps.

  His posture was broader, his shoulders squared with newfound strength. Despite his familiar face, something about him seemed different — more powerful, more... alive.

  The glowing mark on Burt’s forehead — the symbol of three fiery hounds — shone brighter, turning into an orange flame as it seemed to activate flames across his arms and legs.

  Heat radiated from his body, distorting the air around him in shimmering waves. His eyes blazed with fierce determination.

  Then, as the fiery mark on his forehead flared, the three hounds leapt forth — each formed from pure orange flame.

  They hit the ground with a burst of heat, their snarling jaws snapping as embers crackled around their paws.

  Their glowing eyes locked onto the abomination before them, each creature tethered to Burt’s wrists by a rope of fire that wrapped tightly around his arms.

  Burt grinned, his breath coming out in heated wisps. He flexed his fingers, feeling the fiery energy pulse beneath his skin.

  “This... feels amazing,” he muttered, almost in disbelief.

  The officers stared in awe, even Emilia lowering her wand slightly as she marveled at the spectacle.

  Burt took a step forward, the burning hounds advancing with him — low growls rumbling from their throats.

  Even the monstrous crocodile seemed to hesitate, its twisted eyes flickering between the fiery beasts and the man who commanded them.

  The fight was far from over — but for the first time, the officers believed they had a chance.

  With a sharp motion of his arm, Burt barked out the order.

  “Go!”

  The fiery hounds surged forward, their blazing forms streaking across the cobblestone street like comets.

  Their snarls filled the air as they leapt onto the grotesque crocodile abomination, flames licking hungrily at its twisted body.

  The beast thrashed violently, its tentacle-like limbs flailing as its corrupted scales blackened and cracked under the relentless fire.

  “Now!” Burt shouted. “Hit it while it’s pinned!”

  Samir didn’t hesitate. With a commanding swing of his lantern, golden chains shot forth like striking vipers, coiling around the beast’s limbs and tightening with radiant energy.

  The creature screeched, its distorted jaws snapping wildly as it struggled to break free.

  Emilia, still breathing heavily but focused, raised her wand again. The tip flared as she mustered her strength, pouring what power she could into another fireball.

  She released it with precision, and the searing orb streaked through the air, striking the crocodile’s face with a loud boom.

  The creature reeled back, howling in agony as flames consumed its deformed features.

  “Now!” Burt roared. The infernal hounds snarled in unison, their blazing jaws clamping down together — one on the beast’s twisted neck, another on its bloated torso, and the last on its tail.

  The crocodile writhed, screeching in pain as the flames seared deeper.

  Its corrupted flesh blistered and cracked, blackened scales curling away as the fire devoured it.

  “End it!” Burt commanded.

  The ground beneath the creature began to glow. The flames on Burt’s forehead pulsed brightly, and with a low growl of exertion, he clenched his fists.

  Flames erupted from the earth in a roaring pillar, engulfing the crocodile entirely. The heat surged outward, forcing the officers to stagger back as a wave of blistering air washed over them.

  The crocodile’s final screech echoed through the streets before fading into silence.

  When the flames finally subsided, nothing remained but a charred, skeletal husk — the twisted monstrosity reduced to little more than brittle bones and ash.

  The air was heavy with the scent of burned flesh and scorched stone.

  The hounds, their purpose fulfilled, retreated as streams of flickering flame, slithering back into the glowing mark on Burt’s forehead.

  The fire faded, leaving Burt standing alone, shoulders squared and chest heaving.

  “Secure the area,” Burt ordered firmly, his voice steady and commanding. “Find out where this thing came from. I want answers!”

  The officers moved quickly, relieved but energized by their victory. Emilia and Samir exchanged glances — they knew that if Burt hadn’t returned stronger than ever, this battle could have ended far worse.

  As Burt turned back toward the scorched remains, he couldn’t help but give a bittersweet smirk.

  He felt stronger, sharper — more alive than he had in years. Whatever flame had been ignited within him wasn’t just power... it was purpose. But today, he had lost a lieutenant and an officer. A tragic fate indeed.