The flames danced around the wooden posts of the structures, creating a hauntingly beautiful spectacle of orange and red hues. It licked at the fabric roofs and greedily devoured the flimsy wooden doors that once provided some semblance of safety to the residents. Through the holes in the ceiling, the acrid fumes billowed up, bringing with it the sickeningly sweet smell of burning flesh. The cavernous room resounded with the screams of the dying and injured, accompanied by the deafening roar of the flames that engulfed everything in their path. With the surrounding space becoming thick with smoke, the unbearable heat intensified. A scene of absolute chaos and destruction; a battle between life and death, and the latter was approaching victory.

Not on my watch!

Ronan kicked down the door, which he heard hacking. “Everyone, evacuate this place! Crawl on the floor if need be! He waited for the flow of smoke to lessen, subsequently rushing inside. It took him a few moments for his vision to adjust to the gloom. Amidst the room, a couple futilely shielded their children from noxious fumes.

“Ronan!” The woman cried, her voice filled with desperation. Her visage was streaked with soot and tears, and her clothes were tattered and singed. She pleaded, “Please, save our children!” With a pleading expression, the man looked at Ronan, a glimmer of hope shining through.

“I will do my best,” Ronan promised, kneeling beside the children. Their tiny faces were pale and streaked with blood and sweat, their lips blue from lack of oxygen. “Grab onto me. We’re getting out of here. Do it for your children!” he urged the parents.

The man put his arm around Ronan’s shoulder while the woman grabbed his waist. The weight was nearly too much for him; Able to support them all, they staggered out of the burning house. Outside, it was quiet; maybe too quiet for a Pencari invasion. The family couldn’t make progress without cleaner air. With the children positioned, Ronan began the chest compressions. Despite the scarlet marks covering his palms from the punctured skin caused by the nails, he did not stop.

“Keep breathing, damn it,” he growled, pumping away at the girl’s torso. “Come on, kids! You’re stronger than this!” He persisted despite his sight growing hazy with tears. He hated seeing people dying, especially children who couldn’t fight back. So having to watch an increased number of children die was causing an overwhelming ache in his heart. Please work, please fuckin’ work!

Then she coughed. Life returned to the boy as well. Relief flooded his face as the two were taking breaths, “See? What did I tell ya? Strong kids.” Ronan said, flashing a crooked grin. He looked at the parents and saw them both in tears, clinging to each other desperately. “All right, that’s enough of that shit. Let’s head over to the jailhouse.

As they stood up, Ronan searched around for any pencari. Thankfully, there were none. And he hoped it stayed that way.

Guiding the family, he brought them to the same jailhouse where he had previously led numerous people. Despite his desire to locate his father, prioritizing the evacuation for safety was wiser. “You will be safe going down. Let the rest know that the only me and River will be coming after you. Wait for an hour. If we are not back by then... well, you know...” He ended the order on a somber note as he waited for the family to go down the hatch. Once inside, he closed the hatchway.

Now... to find Father...

Once he contemplated his next move, he heard a manic laughter, joining in the orchestration of the settlement’s combustion. Flinching, he wondered where that came from. I guess I’ll find out, he thought as he ran out of the jailhouse and followed the source of the noise. The echoes of his footsteps enforced the fact there was no one else around, an inch of anticipation of another’s steps besides his own.

Crossbow at hand, he arrived at where the marketplace used to be. He probed for any sign of his father, or for any movement that might happen within the vicinity. With bated breath, he slowly moved forward. Right at that instant, he saw something that made his blood run cold. A form lying on the floor, unmoving. As he ran toward the motionless form, he recognized it as his father.

“Dad! Oh god, Dad no!” He yelled as he reached his kneeling position and started shaking him. After shaking frantically, he checked for signs of life by pressing his finger under the nose. A tense few seconds elapsed before he sensed inhalation being drawn into the nostrils. Oh thank god, he’s alive! He exhaled as he checked for any notable injuries, which he found challenging because of the dark clothing. As he was getting his father’s arm around his shoulder, he heard someone treading toward him. With his gaze pointed skyward, he spotted a child.

“Oh hey,” Ronan displayed a faint grin, “Are you okay? You’re not hurt?” He made an effort to keep his tone soft as to not scare him. The child gave a small smile and nodded. He didn’t seem to have any serious injuries; perhaps scraps and bruises underneath the clothing Ronan could guess.

“It’ll be ok. We’re going to vacate this place and into a safer area.” He held a hand out for the young boy to grab, an attempt to comfort him. The boy smiling could be him not fully understanding the situation, and Ronan knew too well about that. With his hand outstretched, he waited as the boy approached; his hand soon reaching to hold on to his. Then the boy got closer to him, which Ronan assumed was a hug. But in one quick second, the boy stared up at him and his gaze glowed a wicked purple.

Before he could react, the boy reached out and a dark magical arrow pierced through Ronan’s upper body. Gasping, he fell back with his father onto the hard ground; And it became increasingly harder to breathe as the wound was taking its toll. He didn’t understand what had just happened, nor did he want to believe it.

The boy spoke in a manic tone that shook the air. “You humans are so easy to manipulate! If I had a silver coin, every time someone fell for the innocent trick, I would have just two! Which is so weird how it’s happened twice!” The child clapped its tiny palms together as Ronan gritted his teeth, trying to not succumb to the agony.

“Oh, but where are my manners? I cannot continue appearing like this!”

Amid a black haze, the child found themselves surrounded. With an unnatural height, the figure morphed and cracked. After a moment, the haze revealed a masked humanoid with strange black leather-like armor and an ornate helmet with spiked horns and sharp, jagged edges. The mask’s appearance reminded Ronan of the art he found on a single card; marked with a J

The Jester; that was what his father identified it as.

Ronan let out a grunt, aware of his wound worsening as crimson liquid dripped from the laceration. “Damn you... fucking damn you...” He hissed, as the man chuckled.

“Hush, hush! It’s almost over.” He purred, bringing his face close to his. Ronan experienced his breathing becoming ragged as the Pencari enclosed a hand around his throat and whispered into his ear, “Regrettable that I am unable to interact with you and that man any longer. Lord Philon’s orders, and I don’t want to make him anymore angrier than he already is!”

“Go to hell,” Ronan choked out, “go to hell!” With his remaining strength, he brought his face up and rammed it into the Jester’s mask. The impact knocked the Pencari away and forced him to let go of Ronan’s throat. Falling, he quickly scampered to grab the crossbow he dropped. Swiftly, utilizing limited time, he aimed the crossbow at the Pencari. “You damn bastard!”

Stolen novel; please report.

He fired a bolt and struck the Pencari jester in the heart.

Or at least he thought it did.

Instead, it dissipated upon impact as the Pencari appeared nonchalant to it. “You possess spunk! I like that!” He laughed and clapped his hands in unison. With an awe-inspiring display, the opponent effortlessly called forth two ethereal spheres that materialized into hands, radiating an otherworldly magic. The Jester, casting a foreboding glance at Ronan, then touched a finger to the place where his lips would be, silently conveying a message.

“Hush now, human. Rest your head. It’s time for bed!”

With that, the Pencari threw both balls at Ronan. However, a figure intervened between the orbs and its target and swung his great axe. The figure effortlessly split the orbs in half and they went past them. The Pencari jester’s smile weakened, noticing a brute of a man with horns and a tail.

“Whew, close one! It was a close call, but I made it!” Aralt grinned, his green pupils growing radiant every second. “I nearly missed the fun! Hey clown, mind playing with me for a bit? I was a little bored with your rag-doll of a Rakshasa outside. Can’t even regard it as a warm-up!” He remarked, eyeing the Jester with keen interest.

The Pencari gave a long pause, before clapping his hands together in apparent glee. “Ah, a Hellhound! How wondrous! But aren’t you far from home, puppy?” The jester taunted.

Aralt huffed as he stepped forward. “How about you save your tongue for when you actually swallow something?” He put a hand on Ronan’s head as he said, “Hey, kid. This asshole’s mine, got it?”

Ronan stared at Aralt in surprise, just from the massive size alone. It gave Huon the appearance of a teenager. He nodded, grateful for any assistance he could receive. “S-Sure, big guy.”

“Awesome,” Aralt then gave him a grin and glared at the Jester, who backed away. “Let’s do this. Just the two of us, no funny business! But I can’t promise I won’t play nicely!”

“You seem confident, hellhound. Have you faced one of my kind before?” The Jester questioned, but in a hostile tone.

“Nope, not yet. But I’d love to start now!” With that, Aralt charged forward with his weapon raised high. Observing the scene unfold, the Pencari clasped his hands together, forming a protective barrier that diverted the blade. Aralt instead rammed into the barrier and used it as a push point. Strong enough to crack, he aimed for the Pencari’s spine. When he was about to strike, the Pencari vanished into smoke as Aralt hacked at air.

“Oh, you little shit-!” He exclaimed, only to see the Jester reappear above him and bombarded him with shadowy arrows. One struck him in the back, causing a pained howl. “Ah! Son of a-!” He was planning to charge at the Pencari, but additional shadow arrows rained down on him. Growling, he flailed his weapon as he tried to defend himself from the barrage.

The Jester cackled, “Ha ha! Look at the puppy run around! How pathetic! Don’t you know that running is for prey? I thought you were better than that, hellhound!” The Pencari summoned two small twin balls of fiery essence and sent them toward Aralt. They exploded upon impact, and the fire wrapped around the Hellhound like a blanket.

Laughing, Aralt sensed his wounds healing from the scorching blaze. “I should ask you the same question, idiot! Aren’t you aware we love fire?” His grin grew wide as his physical form transformed into a large canine. Ronan’s orbs bulged as the man transformed into a colossal creature. His entire form, covered in thick, pitch-black fur, was just about the size of a one-story building.

A Hellhound. It felt like facing a nightmare. Ronan would have been more terrified if the monster weren’t on his side. Striving to uncover his inner fortitude, he pushed himself to reach his father. Damn it, he got me good... I can barely move, he thought as the Hellhound jumped with incredible strength toward his target. It unleashed a huge amount of fire from its mouth, and it turned the area into an inferno once more.

Ronan gritted his teeth against the heat, barely noticing how close he was to the burning fire. He needed to make it to his father. “Come on,” he urged himself, “keep going! You’re almost there!” As he moved incrementally forward, he could perceive his being yielding to the sensations of pain and exhaustion. But he wouldn’t let that stop him.

Finally, he reached his father. Clinging onto him, he propped his gaze up to look at him. “Get up.” He called out to him as he saw the color was coming back to his face. A cut on his forehead bled into his eye. When he blinked, his vision was hazy and unfocused.

“R-Ronan? W-What’s going on...?” He croaked, wincing at the taste of smoke in his mouth.

“It’s ok, dad. He grunted as he kept experiencing more blood emerging from his chest. His father’s gaze darted toward Ronan’s chest, widening in horror. He tried sitting up, but his body prevented him from doing so. “Your chest-!” He choked out.

Ronan shook his head, “I’ll... I’ll be fine.” He tried to console his dad, but even he was not sure how long he can stay conscious before the pain ate away at him. “Can you get up?”

“I... I don’t know...” His father grunted, putting a hand on his forehead as his breathing became erratic. “Why is it so hot here suddenly?”

Before Ronan could reply, a powerful force threw the hellhound into the soil next to them with enough force to send a shockwave throughout the area. The dust cleared to show Aralt had transformed back to his human form.

“Ow,” Aralt grunted, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up. “that one hurt a little.”

The Jester clicked his tongue as he dusted off his armor. “Quite an impressive performance, hellhound.” He said as the floating hands around him charged up, ready for another attack.

Ronan cursed under his breath and hoisted his father up, forcing himself to stand on both feet despite the pain. “Come on, Dad! We need to get out of here now!” Ronan’s tone was becoming desperate as he watched Aralt bring his axe up once more. The Pencari cackled, seeing the desperation in their eyes, “Hold on, we haven’t arrived at the finale yet!”

Suddenly, a gigantic ball of blue flame rushed toward them. Aralt deflected it with his axe, but the force sent them all flying into the air. Ronan experienced a decline in his physical strength as they descended downwards. His father landed on his back, breaking the fall for him and Aralt. He tried to survey the area, but everything whirled and his ears rang loudly.

Before the Pencari could charge up another attack, the sudden appearance of bats stopped him, creating a barrier between him and the three men. “Zoas,” a harsh, powerful voice came through. With the realization of the voice emanating from the church, Ronan experienced a heightened sense of tension throughout his body. Motionless, as though anchored to the surface. “You are to return to the camp, or do you want me to come to get you?”

Zoas jumped and exclaimed, “N-No! No need, Lord Commander! As he turned, the floating hands eased away and vanished, leaving him with the three down. “We’ll play again later! Ciao~” He managed to utter the words before black ink engulfed him, morphing his body into murky goo. The bats intensified, cause a tremendous gust of wind that brought Ronan down. Eventually, the wind died down, leaving them alone in the remains of the once-proud human settlement. The spreading inferno and battle cries faded away. On the ground, he couldn’t stand up and started hacking blood. His vision blurred, and he was losing consciousness.

Aralt, noticing this, reached the two. “Shit! Hold on, you two.” Before he could proceed, two individuals approached him; one with a hood over his head and the other masked. Upon seeing them, he readied his weapon. “Take it easy.” The hooded man held a hand out. “We’re allies.”

He narrowed his gaze, leaning towards Ronan and quietly asked, “Are you familiar with those two?””

Stungalm and Nahele were acknowledged by Ronan as they arrived. They appeared to have similar injuries to the hellhound, but they were not seriously injured. Stunglam walked ahead, ignoring the Hellhound as he got down and carried Ronan with ease. Groaning in pain, Ronan mumbled; “Y-yeah, these two... are with us...”

Displaying a gesture of indifference, Aralt put away his weapon and took hold of Ronan’s father. “And where were you when all this was going down?”

“We had our own enemy to fight.” Nahele responded, “but it seems like from what we saw; yours ran off like ours did.”

Stungalm grumbled, minutely shaking his head in response. “I will fuckin’ kill it and rip its entrails out...”

“Someone’s pretty agitated.” Aralt blinked, “Anyway, I came here to help by request of someone you might know. We led your kind to our encampment, where you can be safer.” He then noticed Ronan going limp. “Hey! Hey! Stay awake man! Hey!” He shouted.

Ronan, feeling the exhaustion and the pain, slowly went unconscious. The surrounding voices became muffled, all demanding him to stay awake. But to no prevail. With drooping eyes, his mind slips away and everything goes black for him.