“(Damn. This guy’s mangled beyond recognition),” said one of the hellhounds. “(And after all that, his tail’s still intact).”

“(He is a Royal hellhound, after all),” said his companion. “(You don’t get to be king if you can’t fight like a beast or be a ruthless SOB).”

“(Yeah. I wouldn’t want to know what he’d do if he was capable of doing that to those monsters).”

The hellhound pointed towards a pile of corpses full of similarly mangled bodies of hellhounds. However, unlike this hellhound, their bodies were also twisted to the point it did not resemble a hellhound, only a visage of it. They pulled the normal looking, yet mutilated, hellhound and set him beside a fire to dry him out to prevent further decaying.

“(They might give us a hefty sum for bringing this one),” said one of them.

“(What are they trying to do with a dead body?)”

“(Stuff him, maybe? They like to collect trophies).”

“(That’s sick).”

“(That’s what you’d do if you’re part of the demon’s brigade. You show everyone you’re a badass and they’ll flock to you like pigeons. Though maybe they’re becoming desperate after the Royals not only fight back, but also hurt their pride by killing the demons they supported).”

“(Yeah. Nothing hurt more than seeing the demons be slaughtered by the Royals they thought they could easily kill. I’m not gonna lie. I had no love for Royals, but they still show you that they can survive. It makes the demon-loving hounds look like chumps).”

“(You can say that again).”

“(Anyway, it’ll take some time for the body to dry up. Fetch me those sandwiches, would ya?)”

One of them walked back towards the road and to the horse carriage to get the lunch box as the other hellhound checked on the pile of twisted hellhound corpses. He looked at them and could only sympathize for what happened to them while also regretting the fact that he chose the wrong side. He only said this to himself, knowing that saying that would make them think he was defecting. His friend was the only one who understood where he stood. He lost his son to a blind allegiance towards the demons.

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They both worked to clean the riverside as ordered by the demon-loving hellhounds, specifically one Royal hellhound who had become a thorn on their side: Ifrit Schelkz. His family had always been the most ruthless of all the hellhound royal families in the Underworld and the last monarch made a lot of enemies. His actions turned a lot of potential allies away, and his death would boost their morale, knowing that a Royal hellhound was finally killed. How he was killed was not up to debate, considering that they were ordered to destroy the hellhound corpses that were twisted beyond normal. They cheated, and now they needed to destroy the evidence of it.

As the hellhound took out his tools, he noticed something peculiar. Ifrit Schelkz’s body was healed. His body was mangled with bones and limbs torn off by the jaws of the monstrous hellhounds that died with him. Part of his stomach spilled out, eviscerated by a particularly sharp claw. Now, that gaping wound, along with his torn left leg, was healed. The only one that did not seem to heal was one of his horns and part of his left ear, which was apparently an old wound.

But the heal was not perfect. The hellhound noticed that one of the hellhound’s leg, the one that was torn off, grew from a stump to form a new leg like a lizard’s tail, but the leg that came out was not a hellhound’s hind leg, but the cloven hoof of a goat. It was so astonishing that the hellhound could not even consider it possible, thinking that it was just a dream.

Then, he was snapped out of that ‘dream’ when Ifrit grabbed him hand, surprising him. That surprise turned to fear when the hellhound realized that Ifrit not only healed but returned to life in the most dramatic way possible. Then, his eyes opened, and this time, the hellhound was stunned by his crimson eyes. They were not like a normal hellhound, but something else. The sight of it terrified him.

That was when he realized he saw those eyes before. Terrified, he tried to get the body to loosen his grip, to no avail. He called for help, and the other hellhound tried to get his hand off the strong grip. He also saw the hellhound’s eyes and was struck with fear, unable to say or even do anything.

Ifrit then turned his gaze towards the two terrified hellhounds and let out a menacing, toothy grin that showed his sharp row of teeth. His visage turned from something canine into something more demonic. Then, he let out a deep, threatening voice that sent shivers to the two hellhounds.

“You shouldn’t put me near a fire.”