The air was thick with tension as the ranger stumbled into the camp, face pale, eyes wide. Her legs pulled her forward, towards safety, on instinct, but her breath was shallow and ragged, she was pale, sweat and something else staining the inside of her thighs.
"Oi, Lera?" The Chienthrope's nose, Daz, twitched. He was crouched near the fire, casually chewing dried meat. "Did you piss yourself?"
The other four turned. The tank, a tall, 190cm bronze-skinned Amazoness with wild deep crimson hair, laughed a bit too hard. The rogue smirked condescendingly and offered her a water flask. The mage, disinterested, meditating Only the healer seemed concerned, rising halfway to help.
Lera didn't respond immediately. Her mouth opened. Closed. Then she collapsed to her knees and screamed.
"IT KILLED THEM ALL!"
Silence, nothing but the distant sounds of the dungeon.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" the mage asked, one slender brow raised, gripping her staff tighter.
"The berserkers and the variant., the whole damn tribe, All of them." Lera's voice cracked. "They were slaughtered. In seconds. One man… one… THING, bathed in fire and bl-lood, a laughing demon! A hellhound followed him like a pet, but it was only barley a hellhound, it looked closer to a cerberus with one head, it was taller on 4 legs than a dwarf is on 2, and he—that—it" She curled in on herself. "Gods, it smiled."
The Chienthrope — Daz — stood slowly, stretching out his tall, 200cm frame. His nostrils flared once more as an arrogant half grin which didn't reach his eyes showed his canines. "Smells like irrational panic and exaggeration. But you said one man, or one monster, which was it, haha?"
"I know what I saw!"
Daz tilted his head. "You said it came out unscathed?" His lips curled fully into a cocky grin. "Then its magic stone is definitely intact. It's mine."
The mage rolled her eyes. "Oh gods, here we go."
"For the glory of Ishtar," he said proudly, thumping his chest. "This monster rex, or variant, whatever he or it is, I'll take the thing's head."
The rogue whistled, she nor the rest of the party except the healer taking the situation seriously. "Not much stone left if you spear it clean through."
"You think a freak like that wont drop something else?" Daz smirked. "I'll get her attention with this. Finally."
The tank chuckled, elbowing the healer. "Bet he's already picturing her stepping on him."
The healer frowned. "Lera's not lying. She's never like this."
"I'm not going!" Lera shrieked. "You can't make me! You didn't see it! He wasn't human, wasn't even a monster, he was a thing!"
Daz's grin faded as his voice turned cold. "Then you can stay here and walk back alone." He pointed up. "You know what lurks on this floor alone, not to mention the 45 others you will have to climb solo. Your call."
Tears welled in her eyes, but Lera said nothing more. Eventually, she stood, lips quivering, and activated her [Tracking] skill…
Half an Hour Later
The party crept through the shifting shadows of the 46th floor, led by Lera's increasingly reluctant steps. The trail was fresh, the scent of ash, a few small tufts of coarse black fur. Then they saw it.
The hellhound. If you could even call it that anymore, it was twice and a half the height and a half size wider than any of its kin
It lay in the open, alone, curled up, a resting beast atop a scorched stretch of floor. Its massive head lifted lazily, one golden glowing eye blinking.
The rogue frowned. "That's… it, we tracked all this way for a single wolf?"
"It shouldn't be," the mage muttered. "These things don't stray far from their packs."
"That's not just a hellhound," Lera whispered. "It's his pet."
Daz narrowed his eyes, instincts prickling. "...Something smells off… not with the dog but there's something else around, something… cursed, something w rong." Daz's eyes widened in alarm but it was already too late.
A looming shadow fell across the party, cast by a nearby torch of the dungeon.
A voice, deep and gravely, rumbled from behind them.
It wasn't Common. It wasn't even intelligible to most. But its tone was questioning… annoyed.
Only the Amazonesses turned, eyes widening as they understood just enough, the voice was ancient, rough like weathered rock, but their mother tongue shared its bones.
"He's… asking why we were following his hound…" the tank whispered in disbelief.
They turned.
He towered over them, a multi-horned, soot-skinned giant of a man, muscles like carved stone, amber-golden rune pulsing dimly on his bare chest. His presence was crushing, and yet... silent. No aura, Daz could not sense a magic stone, his ability which had allowed him to target much stronger monsters than someone of his standing could usually handle was completely ineffective.
Nothing.
Daz stared. "I-I can't sense his stone..."
Lera's knees buckled. She eeked out- "He doesn't have one?" the absence of a magic stone suggested that whatever this thing was, technically wasn't even a monster
The hellhound yawned behind them, its maw steaming with residual flame. Caelun tilted his head.
None of them moved.
25 Minutes Earlier
Caelun stopped in his tracks-
The scent reached him on the stale wind, drifting like smoke through the broken channels of the 46th Floor, pushed forward by the heat of the dungeon.
Leather. Oiled steel. Something processed and unnatural.
He paused, his bare feet scuffing against black stone.
A twitch in the air. A whisper against his skin.
Not smelling or hearing breath, evidently too far for that. Not flesh, no open wounds or rotting corpses. Just the faint, fabricated trace of something equipped.
Not monsters. At least, not of the wild sort.
But not people, either, not certainly, there was no scent of campfire or cooked meat, if they were human they knew well enough to eat dry foods while pursuing a quarry. His senses weren't so sharp that he could parse a race by scent alone. Only the truly unique things stood out to him: the dry ozone of dragon's breath, the cold iron rot of undead. These scents were too sterile to tell. But they were wrong for this place as far as he could tell with his limited experience.
Hunters, he thought. Or something clever enough to mimic their strategum.
His expression did not change, but his weight shifted slightly, redistributing his balance. The glow from his chest dimmed as he sank further into shadow, letting the ambient curse-mist hide him.
A low sound beside him, claws clicking lightly, soft breath like smoke. The runt had noticed too. The hellhound's nostrils flared, head lifted, ears cocked forward.
Good instincts.
He raised one hand, slowly. Two fingers twisted, a small circling gesture, a signal to stay down,stayquiet, waitformovement.
The hellhound blinked, then tilted its head sharply, clearly not understanding. Its tail flicked once, uncertain. Then it gave a soft, irritated huff, lips twitching in what might have been frustration or mild offense.
Caelun inhaled deeply and exhaled through his nose, in the mildest of annoyance. Quiet, controlled.
Of course. Too soon to expect obedience to signs. The runt wasn't trained, only tamed, and barely that.
He crouched beside the beast, one massive hand resting on the back of its neck, his voice low and smooth, hardly more than breath.
"Down. Stay low. Don't move until I call."
The hound growled faintly, confused, eyes flicking between his hand and the corridor they were walking through previously.
He pointed.
"There. Upwind. They're coming that way. We wait here."
A pause.
He made a fist-
"If they mean harm, we strike."
And slammed it into his palm
Another pause. shook his head exaggeratedly-
"If they don't… we listen."
And cupped a hand and held it to his ear, then placed a palm back on the pup's neck.
The runt made no noise, but its body stilled beneath his hand, muscles tense like coiled wire. Not trained, but willing. That was enough, for now.
He rose, slowly, and moved into position, climbing over a particularly large boulder on the far right of the clearing they had stopped in, just the right position to pincer their pursuers.
Stillness returned.
He would wait. Observe. Not pounce.
Not yet.
Let them show him what they were messing with.
And if they drew steel without reason…
Then he would educate them why omen blood remains feared by the golden order.