Geirna yawned as she looked over the horizon. The black of night was just barely giving way to the purple of the rising sun and beginning to dim and cast away the stars. Behind her, she heard Roshka snoring loudly.

  She frowned at the empty bottle of booze, regretting letting him drink more of it than her. Such a boring watch could have been made a little more bearable if she were able to stay drunk through it. There were no monsters in this part of the vale that were any true concern, so it’s not like she had to stay on guard. Simply making sure the pups did not escape the cave was her only job, and when the reinforcements arrived tomorrow, flushing them out would be a simple thing.

  She paced away from her station, scanning the mountainside to check on their Direwings. She could see them each on a different perch above them, wings and tails hanging lazily off the sides of their rocks. Then, Gerina's gaze drifted to the lake at the middle of the vale, watching how its overflow of mana danced softly upwards, glowing a beautiful green in the night.

  She reached up to remove her mask, then held it in front of her face. It had several sharp teeth carved into it, the sign that she earned her place as an honored warrior of their tribe. Ever since the Amarii attacked many years ago, when she was young and lost her parents and saw how the great Valrok descended from the skies on his dragon and swiftly turned the tide of battle, she was sure of two things.

  First, she wanted to be a warrior and know the honor of fighting for her tribe and destroying her enemies.

  Second, she wanted only to follow Valrok.

  When she was very young, she had childish daydreams of one day being made his wife, though she knew she was not worthy and he had already chosen another. So instead, she took the next best thing and poured everything she had into her training, to at least be worthy to fight under his command. Though an old leg injury that was not healed in time weakened her potential, she still gave everything she had in honor of the man she admired.

  She knew the Almighty Above had blessed him for a reason, and she hated that there were those among her people who did not see it. He was loud and boastful, but he deserved it. She thought it only right he should hold such pride, as the pride of his strength and blood should be the pride of their tribe. He was a legendary-tier warrior, the kind that only existed in ancient stories. So how could anyone dare to second-guess that?

  Even Roshka, whom she had grown up with and trained alongside.

  Roshka had been capable in his own right—fierce, cunning—but grief and drink had dulled him. Losing his cousin in the latest battle had further smothered his flame, and she saw how now he carried ash in his heart.

  Geirna sighed, running a thumb over one of the carved teeth on her mask. “You are a fool to doubt Valrok,” she murmured softly. She looked over her shoulder toward where Roshka slept, slumped against the stone with his blade lying carelessly across his lap.

  The first wind of morning swept through the vale, stirring her hair and sending a chill through her armor.

  She would have liked to have brought the pups back herself, deeply regretting that she let them slip away. But that would be corrected tomorrow, and though she would not get to carry the honor of accomplishing the task herself, she would still be key in ensuring their capture.

  She supposed it was enough to share in Valrok’s victory and to stand among those who would return triumphant.

  “Soon,” she whispered. “We finish this.”

  Then, something moved in the silence.

  A soft scrape.

  Her eyes flicked toward the cave. Nothing—only the dark mouth of the cave catching an echo of Roshka’s snoring. She frowned and tilted her head, listening harder. Maybe Roshka had shifted in his sleep?

  “Roshka?” she asked.

  No answer.

  “Wake, fool. Dawn’s near. One of us ought to fly up and look out for the reinforcements.”

  She took a step toward him and heard another scrape. She stopped and reached down for her spear, heartbeat quickening. She didn’t know what it was, but her instincts told her to be alert.

  “Roshka,” she repeated, sharper this time.

  He responded with another loud snore.

  Then—a sliver of movement in the dark behind him. A shadow glided low across the ground. For half a heartbeat she thought it was a trick of the moonlight. Then she saw the faintest gleam—two pinpricks of blue flitting towards him.

  Her mouth opened to shout, but she was too slow.

  Roshka jerked once—just once—as something detached from the darkness, pouncing on Roshka as he slept. He barely got half a scream out before it died in his throat.

  “Roshka!” Geirna yelled, now running at the monster.

  The creature snarled, shaking him by the neck until his weak attempts to free himself fell limp. The creature dropped him and dove away from Geirna’s spear just as she lunged at it.

  Geirna took one glance down at her comrade as she took a defensive posture. There were a few twitches left in Roshka, but she already knew it was over for him.

  But what the hell was this thing attacking them? It paced out of range of her spear, melding with the dark once again. Its blue eyes stood out, focused on her, assessing her.

  “What the hell are you?” Geirna growled.

  This cave system was not known to have such monsters. Could it be something else that ventured out of the depths, from the far side of the vale?

  No, get a grip. Anything that could survive the depths wouldn’t waste its time wandering around this random cave!

  She pulled back her wits and used {Inspect} so she at least understood the level of what she was dealing with.

  Hell Hound - Level 12

  “What!? Impossible!” she hissed.

  The eyes shifted slightly, as if the creature was turning its head curiously.

  It couldn’t be one of the pups they had chased into the cave. Even the bigger one had only been level 8 not even two full days ago! On top of that, if this was the same creature, then clearly it had evolved. Even as it lurked in the darkness, she could see it was considerably larger.

  No matter…

  She braced her spear with one arm, then reached behind herself for the shock pole.

  Its growth is incredible… It completely defies logic. It is easier to level up at lower levels, but… 4 in two days?

  Still, I’m level 17. I should be able to subdue this damn thing without killing it. Then, when the others arrive, I’ll have her all bound up and ready to ship off.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Geirna’s teeth clenched. “Roshka was a fool, but he didn’t deserve to lose his life without a fight. I can’t expect a monster to know anything of honor, but I’ll still make sure you suffer, pup.”

  The Hell Hound snarled, suddenly charging right at her. She struggled to make sense of its shape, and its obscured form distorted her sense of distance. Then, when it was on her, it was like it detached from the darkness itself, like it was one small piece of the totality of the night.

  But Geirna was ready. She pivoted her spear up just in time to parry it. She did not risk trying to pierce it with the blade, simply getting the pole of her spear in the way of its fangs as she prepared a side-step and thrust with her shock pole. But the monster didn’t let itself get near enough for her to try.

  Instead, it abandoned its attack, flying past her, out of the mouth of the cave, and nearer the cliff as it reoriented itself.

  Its lips rose as it snarled, Roshka’s blood still staining its teeth and dripping from its muzzle.

  Geirna took a step near it, and it took an equal step back. There was the faintest hint of dark blue deep in its fur, and its claws were likewise unusual; she almost wanted to think more like glass than nail.

  Geirna took a few more testing steps, then charged. She thrust with her spear, but it was just a feint. As the Hell Hound ducked low and to the side, Genirna pivoted her momentum and swung her shock pole down.

  The Hell Hound jumped right at it, opening its jaws.

  Ha! Dumb animal! Thought you’d learned from last time!

  She channeled her mana through it, imbuing it with electricity that should be strong enough to send the Hell Hound reeling. The monster bit down and instantly was thrown back as a visual zap of electricity shocked its face. The monster slid and then rolled, clenching its teeth. The faint smell of burnt hair lingered as a thin wisp of smoke trailed from its muzzle.

  Geirna, not wanting to give it time to realize how it was outmatched and retreat, pressed the attack. But as she did so, she noticed something—floating particles of mana, coming from her shock pole, and moving towards the monster.

  What is that? Why would it—

  Just as she swung her spear for a follow-up attack, the injured Hell Hound looked up, intense, with eyes that had the faintest hint of a white glow overcome them as the beast charged right at her, ducking to the left of the spear and then jumping up, slashing a claw at her.

  She barely registered the white light dancing on the tips of its claw when she realized—it was a spell.

  Her armor protected her somewhat; the claws raked across her mask and chest plate, but the electricity found its way through, stabbing through her skin and shocking her core, sending her falling back.

  She stumbled, her injured ankle twisting as she cursed it. She swept her spear in a blind arc to try to keep the beast back, but then new pain exploded from her ankle.

  She screamed in pain and horror as the Hell Hound latched on and twisted, snapping the bone, sending sickening pain shooting through her.

  “RAAAAAAAHHHH!” she screamed, jabbing her shock pole at it again before it tried another retreat.

  The Hell Hound dodged but turned back at the last second, lifting its paws as if trying to grab the pole. Geirna couldn’t make sense of it. What kind of beast defends itself like that?

  Though she didn’t get a good, direct hit, the beast hurt its own paw with that move, its arm being thrown back as it staggered off its hind legs and rolled. The Hell Hound then looked at its paw, tilting its head curiously… but that wasn’t all.

  Once again, Geirna saw those particles of white mana floating towards the Hell Hound.

  If she wasn't mistaken, she saw its lip curl up, not to growl, but to smile.

  She quickly pulled out her healing potion, popping the cork with her thumb. But as she barely touched it to her lips, the Hell Hound reared back, slashing a claw through thin air, but white light flashed through its fur, up to its claw, and then shot out.

  A bolt of lightning struck Geirna’s hand, knocking away the healing potion. It clattered and emptied on the ground behind her.

  “Shit!” she growled. Her ankle was in agony, useless, but she used the other to spring forward and meet the beast’s attack.

  She drove spear-first, a look of surprise coming into the Hell Hound’s eyes, unable to change its course mid-leap, and her spear sliced across its shoulder and down its side.

  The Hell Hound stumbled as it met the ground but scrambled back up and took enough distance to keep it out of range of a follow-up attack.

  It was bleeding but not injured enough to stop. It prowled around her in a slow circle. If it chose to abandon the fight and return to the dark of the cave, she couldn't chase it.

  Her eyes flicked to the healing potion. It was mostly empty, but a little remained inside the bottle. It wouldn't be enough to fully heal her leg, but it'd be better than nothing.

  But, returning her eyes to the Hell Hound, she knew it had no intention of leaving. It watched her—assessed her. She could feel it calculating, planning its next attack.

  It has no elemental reserves. That must be it. That's why it absorbed the mana from my shock pole to fuel those attacks.

  She tossed her shock pole away, instead grabbing the dagger sheathed at the small of her back. She raised both weapons threateningly.

  “Come on then. What's your move!?” she hissed at it.

  Would it blend with the dark again? That would make it harder to discern the nature of its next attack, but she could manage.

  She shifted to keep it in front of her as it continued to prowl. Now the cliff was at her back. She considered the possibility of throwing it off the side when it came for her. At this point, that'd be the best way to end this fight without killing it, and then they could hunt it down in the forest when her tribe arrived.

  The Hell Hound made a move forward; she tensed. Then it lifted its paws and slammed down.

  Another spell? But—

  The ground in front of the Hell Hound bubbled, earth groaned as a streak of churned dirt shot towards her.

  Earth magic too!?

  The turned earth ended with a geyser of rock shooting into her. She crossed her bracers just in time to block it, but it pushed her back, and before she could ready her weapons, the Hell Hound pounced on top of her.

  It snarled, snapping its jaws at her neck. Instinctively, she flexed her shoulders up and lowered her chin. Its teeth raked across her mask. She abandoned her spear and put the Hell Hound in a headlock with one arm. It tried to pull away, but she tightened her grip and stabbed her dagger into its side.

  Its claws slashed at her stomach; her armor protected her gut, but it managed to cut her side. They rolled as Geirna tried to get on top. Her mask tilted awkwardly out of place on her head as they struggled.

  Letting it live was out of her mind now. She would have to kill it. This one was already too feral, nobody could tame it either way, and it was stronger than it had any right to be at level 12.

  She pulled her dagger free and stabbed down again. But the Hell Hound managed to jerk free from her hold, and she only achieved a shallow cut.

  Her free hand shot up to fix her mask as she slashed her dagger forward. Her swing met resistance as the Hell Hound bit her wrist, her bracer protecting her, but she could feel the incredible strength of its jaws as it tried to break her arm.

  She punched it, but it didn't let go until—

  Snap.

  Geirna screamed, the dagger falling from her grip. She thrust her head forward and bashed the Hell Hound with the face of her mask, throwing it off of her.

  Disoriented from pain and the primal frenzy of the fight, she searched the ground for her dagger with her unbroken arm. But she was too slow.

  The Hell Hound pounced again, this time taking her side and sinking its jaws into her shoulder. She screamed as it ripped back, taking her flesh with it.

  She flailed with both arms, hitting it again, but doing little damage. Its claws slashed at her face. Twice, three times, the beast snarling.

  A claw found its way past, cutting open the side of her neck. But, with the grace of the Almighty, her dagger was guided back to her hand.

  Geirna screamed, lunging blade first. The Hell Hound tried to avoid it, and she missed its throat, but her dagger cut low on its chest.

  Geirna tried to catch herself on her broken arm as she fell forward but ended up awkwardly propped on one elbow.

  The Hell Hound stood several feet back. Panting. Blood—her blood—dripping from its fangs. But it was also injured. It was only level 12! How could she lose? She couldn't! She just needed to get ahold of it one more time, when it attacked again, and stab stab stab.

  But her bloodlust was squelched by the cold look in the Hell Hound’s eyes. It calmly raised its paws, and for a chilling moment, she sensed its thoughts. It knew this was already over—and so did she.

  It slammed its claws down, and another bubble of earth formed, coming towards her. This time, the geyser exploded upwards right into her chest armor. The force of it was so strong that the impact punctured right through her, throwing her back. But when she tried to catch herself she found only empty air—she was falling.

  Her last scream escaped her as she saw the cliff rising out of her reach.

  A tree branch struck her. She was thrown sideways, turning in the air, reaching with broken limbs desperately for something to catch her fall. She found nothing and soon met the ground with an impact that tore through what little strength she had left.

  All that remained, lying in the dirt, were a few more strained breaths that tried and failed to draw air into her lungs. But desperately, she tried to force that air into her lungs.

  This thing was a monster—a true monster. She had to live and warn her tribe. They thought they’d be hunting two helpless pups. They wouldn’t be aware of the threat this powerful and intelligent beast would pose. In the dark of the cave’s tunnels, Geirna knew there would be more casualties.

  But how is this possible? How? Is this truly how strong Hell Hounds are, even as pups?

  A weak inhale kept her clinging to life a little longer, but she knew it wouldn’t last.

  Above her, beyond the cliff, a faint star was dimming before the coming dawn. But as soon as her gaze settled on it, a shadow blocked it out.

  The Hell Hound turned its gaze down to her. It was so far above her now, but those eyes—those haunting eyes—cut clear through the darkness, staring into her very soul.

  Valrok said they had incredible potential, but this is… It's beyond comprehension. It had only been two days!

  For the first and last time, her belief was rattled, and doubt seized her heart. By incurring the wrath of the Hell Hounds, she feared that Valrok had doomed their tribe.

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