The howl echoed through the ruins, a low, guttural sound that sent a primal shiver down Kael’s spine.

Not a wolf. Not anything natural.

Something worse.

The nameless man’s gaze snapped toward the sound. "We move. Now."

Kael hesitated.

"Who are they?" he demanded. "Who sent them?"

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he took a step back, eyes scanning the broken pillars and crumbling structures around them.

"They don’t track by sight," he muttered. "They follow the Mark’s scent."

Kael’s chest tightened. The Mark is what led them here.

Which meant he was what they were hunting.

The realization settled like cold iron in his gut. The Imperium had not sent men.

They had sent hounds.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

----------------------------------------

Kael’s grip tightened around his sword as he turned his gaze toward the shifting shadows beyond the ruins.

Movement.

At first, it was only a whisper of motion, a ripple in the air. Then—eyes.

Glowing, golden. Unnatural.

Then another.

Then four.

Then more.

Kael had seen horrors in his time as an Inquisitor, but this was something else.

They did not breathe. They did not blink.

The first one stepped into the dying light.

Twisted limbs. Elongated fingers, too many joints. Its mouth, wrong. A mockery of a beast, sculpted into something that had never belonged to the natural world.

The nameless man exhaled sharply. "Voidborn."

Kael barely had time to react before the first one lunged.

----------------------------------------

His body moved on instinct.

Steel sang through the air. Kael sidestepped, bringing his blade up in a clean arc. A perfect kill strike.

Except—

The sword met flesh.

Then passed straight through.

Kael’s eyes widened. No resistance. No blood. No wound.

Then—pain.

A sudden, crushing force slammed into his chest.

Kael hit the ground hard, rolling through the dirt, his ribs screaming in protest.

The creature loomed over him. The others were moving now, surrounding them.

"Your sword won’t work." The nameless man’s voice was steady, but there was something else there. Tension.

"Then what will?" Kael growled.

The man looked at him. Looked at the Mark.

Kael’s stomach twisted. No.

"You want me to use it."

"You want to live?" The man’s voice was low. "Then let it guide you."

Another Voidborn lunged.

Kael had no choice.

The Mark pulsed.

And he let go.