There was a loud sound of bang, then there was silence.

            The last thing Ifrit remembered was falling from the bridge into the river. He remembered the shocking cold touch of water, but before that moment, he remembered the pain of being literally ripped apart by monsters that were once hellhounds. He remembered the shocked faces of Lilac and Rhynsa. They tried to help him, but in the end, they failed. His only regret was not being able to protect Lilac. As he plunged into the water, he only hoped that Rhynsa continued what he failed.

            He remembered the silence and the darkness before it turned into a hellish landscape of fire and ash. Ifrit could hear the wails and screams of the damned. The hellhound thought that this was hell, a place where killers like him end up. He killed without remorse, and he knew that his soul was already tainted by it. He expected this to happen, just not so early in his journey.

            All that meant nothing for him now, especially after knowing his fate. All he could do was wait for the demons of this realm to take him and torture him for eternity. But even with all that knowledge, Ifrit still refuse to give in. He survived for so long, just to be eaten alive by monsters. He knew his life ended, but the least he could do was survive and be a notable entity in hell instead of becoming part of the wails and screams of the damned all around him.

            He had to survive, even if it meant becoming a demon.

            As he saw what looked like demons surrounding him, he went to an aggressive stance with his claws and teeth bared in a show of intimidation. But something unexpected happened. Ifrit noticed that the demons not only stay at their places, but also had no intention to fight Ifrit, perplexing him.

            Ifrit remembered the moment vividly, as if he wasn’t dreaming. Then, he felt heat. Hellhounds were invulnerable to fire, but he knew hellfire would be far too hot for him to handle. However, the heat was warm instead of painful. He turned around, thinking that there was a demon that caused the demons around him to stay, possibly the king that would bring judgement down on him.

            The hellhound could only turn and face whatever it was behind him. Instead of a menacing demon, however, there was a figure. The figure was crucified on a cross, held in place by chains wrapped around his stark-naked body and neck, forcing him to look forward. He looked more like a fellow damned soul of hell than a demon, considering his lack of freedom. The only thing that made Ifrit uneasy was the demon’s appearance.

            He looked identical to Ifrit except for his more prominent ram-like horns, which looked like a pair of matured horns compared to Ifrit’s resemblance to on. Ifrit also noticed that he had cloven hoofs instead of paws, making him a hybrid of a ram and a hellhound. His eyes were bright crimson with horizontal black pupil, again reinforcing his ram-like appearance. He was naked except for an iron muzzle that appeared to screw his maws shut in the most painful way possible, especially when Ifrit noticed blood dripping from his maws. Even the hellhound felt the pain, considering that goat-hellhound looked similar to him.

            The goat-hellhound glared at him, exerting such pressure that made Ifrit unable to move. Ifrit then heard a deep, rumbling voice, which he assumed to come from the goat-hellhound doppelganger of him, even though his maws were not moving.

            “(Embrace your nature. This is who you really are).”

            Those words echoed in Ifrit’s ears as he lost consciousness. The hellish realm turned dark, as if the fire was extinguished. Then, there was a loud explosion that shook Ifrit awake. The first thing he noticed was the dark room he was in, then he looked at his body. He was naked and chained to a cold, stone slab. The chains were not that strong and was rusting, so he easily pulled his hands free from the shackles before doing the same with his legs. To his surprise, his legs were mismatched. His right was his own canine hind paws, but his left was a cloven hoof like a goat’s. He also noticed that, like the goat-hellhound in that vision, he was muzzled, but not with iron, only leather belts that he easily took off with his claws.

            After he was free, he quickly assessed his surroundings and soon found that he was in a windowless room with a heavy wood on one side being the only source of light into the room. As he peered outside, he felt weak, and his stomach grumbled. He was famished and would only settle for a big meal full of juicy meat to satiate his hunger.

            He returned to attention as another explosion shook his cell’s door and he heard people coming. Realizing that he had the element of surprise, he hastily returned to the stone bed and pretended to be unconscious. Just as he heard people opening the door to his prison and alarmed by the broken shackles, he quickly opened his eyes and grabbed the throat of one of the hellhounds and slammed one of them to the wall.

            “(Oh, shit!)” said another. “(He’s awake!)”

            “(Damn, right, I am).”

            The other hellhound aimed at Ifrit, but Ifrit was faster. Using the broken chain he pulled from a nearby wall, he smacked the tip onto the hellhound, causing a distracting pain that Ifrit used to grab his head and twist it, breaking his neck and instantly killing the hellhound. The other hellhound he momentarily freed from his grasp also tried to attack him, but Ifrit already anticipated this. Instead, he grabbed this hellhound. He noted this hellhound’s unbuttoned shirt and long, baggy pants with suspenders that was around his size. Ifrit smiled and said, “(Nice clothes. Thanks).”

            With that, he knocked the hellhound out and proceeded to strip him down to his underwear before he peered out of his cell. There was general chaos as hellhounds were seen running around trying to coordinate their efforts against an unknown assailant or assailants. Ifrit used this chance to slip out and stay out of sight until he could find a way to escape.

            He looked around to find any indication of an exit as the place’s order quickly deteriorated due to the attackers. But, feeling hungry and weak, he decided that he needed to eat something before he could do anything. So, his priority was to find the kitchen, even though he knew it would be unwise. Fortunately for him, the kitchen and the dining hall was easy to find beyond the prison cells, but it was also full of hellhounds coordinating their efforts against the attacker. He slipped away from the dining hall and directly into the kitchen.

            Several important things he noted were some chained humans and hellhounds who seemed to be slaves since they were made to wear suggestive clothes that left nothing out of imagination. One was suspended. Both his ankles were tied together, while he was held up by his shoulders and his arms, keeping him suspended over the dining hall like a chandelier. It was hard to see what he was due to the featureless metal dog mask that wrapped tightly around his face. He was thin, but an unhealthy thin. He was emaciated and dangerously close to death. His fur, black with golden accents, suggested that he was not just an ordinary hellhound.

            The other slaves feared Ifrit when he got into the kitchen. He quickly tried to earn their trust by breaking their chains and leashes and broke the muzzles off the hellhounds and Lycans, half-expecting them to suddenly lunge at him and ambush him. To his relief, they did not, and they even thank him.

            “(Where is the exit?)” asked Ifrit. He also asked the surface dweller slaves and said, “Where is the exit?”

            “I know where it is,” said a human who recovered first, considering that she was in a better shape compared to the others. “I saw the entrance when we were taken here.”

            “Right.” He then pointed at the suspended hellhound. “What’s his story?”           

            “Worse than us,” said the woman, shaking her head. “These hounds…how can they do that to him?”

            “Still alive?”

            “I hope.”

            “Can you fight? I cannot protect all of you.”

            “We can,” said one, who was a Lycan. “As do the hellhounds.”

            “Okay. I need some food. I have not eaten for so long I felt weak.”

            One of them pointed at the uncut turkey on the nearby table, one that Ifrit promptly ate until it was stripped clean of anything meat. The way he ravaged the turkey made the others surprised.

            “You’re…more than just hungry, aren’t you?” said the hellhound slave.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

            “Uh-huh,” said Ifrit with a nod.

            Without hesitating, he got out of the kitchen and into the dining hall. The deteriorating situation was enough for the hellhounds to become desperate and leave the dining hall to defend their position. The unexpected distraction gave Ifrit ample time to free the suspended hellhound. The ropes he was tied with wasn’t that thick, so Ifrit simply used a nearby sword to cut the hellhound down. Without delay, he broke the mask’s lock with the hilt. Ifrit helped the hellhound removed the mask and was surprised by what he found within it.

            He had never seen such hellhound before. He had a pair of tall ears that were painfully pressed by the featureless canine mask, one of which kept bleeding due to the earrings. They had golden, fleshy interior, which was in theme with the gold accents over his black fur. The gold accents made it look like he was wearing a makeup over his short fur, though Ifrit could tell they were not.

            “(He’s a Death’s Jackal?)” commented one of the hellhound slaves.

            Just as he freed the Jackal, one hellhound, who returned to the dining hall, found him and said, “(That’s the one! Don’t let that royal escape!)”

            Ifrit had no time to gently put the Jackal down. He grabbed a nearby chair and smacked the first hellhound who attacked him and quickly jammed the remains of the chair’s leg through his stomach. However, to Ifrit’s surprise, the improvised weapon burst into flame that quickly engulfed the hellhound. He screamed in pain as the fire burned him alive. This surprised everyone in the room, especially the hellhounds. Hellhounds could not be hurt by fire, but the burning hellhound suggested otherwise.

            Ifrit shrugged it off and took it as a distraction to attack the rest of the attackers, with the liberated slaves helping him. Soon, the hellhounds were either dead or critically injured, with the burning hellhound causing more damage as the wooden parts of the dining hall causing the fire to spread wildly. Ifrit and the rest of the freed slaves, with him carrying the Jackal on his back, escaped the dining hall while the fire spread uncontrollably.

            The Jackal, who heard all the commotion, opened his eyes and said, “(H-hey…who are you?)”

            “(I’m your ticket out of here. Don’t worry. We’ll get you something to eat. Promise me you won’t die just yet),” said Ifrit.

            “(I’ve been…worse),” said the Jackal weakly. “(Although…I don’t mind something light…for now).”

            While the freed slaves continued to escape, Ifrit stopped near a hanging sausage and took it off its hook, giving it to the Jackal to eat. The Jackal sniffed the sausage and tried to find where the sausage was, but eventually grabbed it and took a bite. He simply ate it all up without delay, even forgetting to chew. Ifrit also noticed a jar of water and held it in front of the Jackal.

            “(Here, drink this),” said Ifrit. “(It’s water. If this is your first time up here, it tastes foreign, but believe me, it will feel great afterwards).”

            The Jackal again rubbed his hands on the jar, as if feeling its shape. Ifrit started to think that it might not because he was still weak, so he helped the Jackal drank the water. The Jackal suddenly felt energized, with his eyes wide due to the feeling of satisfaction he had not felt before. He soon drank the whole water in the jar.

            His widened eyes, however, made Ifrit realized something that horrified him. When the Jackal said his ‘thank you’ to Ifrit, he did not look directly at Ifrit’s eyes, but staring blankly to the distance. He tried to find something by waving his hands all over until he found Ifrit’s fur-covered arms, to which he proceeded to grab. Again, he wasn’t looking at Ifrit, though Ifrit did not need him to. He already realized that he was acting peculiar. The last piece of evidence Ifrit needed to make a conclusion were his eyes. They were golden, but the pupils were faded and hazy, giving the appearance of a pair of featureless golden eyes.

            “(Holy shit),” said Ifrit. “(You’re blind. What did they do to you?)”

            “(Been like this since birth),” said the Jackal. “(Can I ask you a favor?)”

            “(Say it).”

            “(Please be my guide. I know you have better things to do, but as you can see, I’m blind).”

            “(Hey, I can’t just leave a blind hound to his own devices, right?)” said Ifrit. He proceeded to hold his hand, to which the Jackal let out a surprised yelp.

            “(O-oh my),” said the Jackal. “(I didn’t expect you to do that).”

            “(Don’t worry. I won’t leave you. Let’s get out of here).”

            Then more hellhounds came to the kitchen, this time armed with swords and ready to fight them.

            “(Oh, come on! Can’t you leave us alone already?!)” said Ifrit, annoyed.

            “(We already got ourselves bargaining chips and you just happen to be the most troublesome royal),” said one of the hellhounds. “(You should’ve stayed asleep, Schelkz).”

            “(So, no killing royals on sight now?)”

            “(You’re the exception, bastard. You massacred many of us like a demon you are. I don’t know what sick joke you’re pulling, but Royals like you should just stay dead!)”

            “(Well, you should’ve just killed me when you have a chance, because I won’t hesitate--).”

            Without warning, the Jackal ran towards the hellhounds and, with great martial arts expertise, punched one hellhound three times in the chest, causing him to be thrown to the cabinet. One of them, surprised, lunged towards the Jackal, who simply dodged aside and grabbed his arm, breaking it in three places and punching the hellhound’s snout without even flinching. He just stood there as more hellhounds, panicking and angry due to his actions, attacked him, only for him to easily counter and dodge the attacks before retaliating by breaking the bones of his attackers and even snapped the neck of another.

            “(Those idiots!)” exclaimed the hellhound Ifrit talked with. “(I told them he’s a Royal and they still attack him! Goddamn--)”

            Ifrit quickly grabbed the distracted hellhound, twist him around, and kicked the hellhound’s back with his knee, cracking his spine. Just as Ifrit was going to snap his neck, the Jackal did something that surprised Ifrit. He jammed his hand into the hellhound’s chest and pulled out his heart in such a gruesome manner that it made Ifrit almost look away in disgust. The Jackal did not hesitate to pull the black heart out as the hellhound screamed in agony. The hellhound was alive for a short moment to witness his still beating heart before dying with a horrified look. The Jackal unceremoniously throw the heart away.

            “(That’s for tormenting me),” said the Jackal with an angry growl and a spat on the lifeless body, which Ifrit promptly throw away.

            “(Isn’t that a bit too excessive?)” asked Ifrit.

            “(He failed my judgement),” said Jackal, before smiling. “(Ah, forget it. It’s not like hearts are lighter than feathers, right?)”

            Due to the fight, they lost track of the other slaves, so Ifrit hoped they were already saved. Ifrit once again grabbed the Jackal’s hand and ran while guiding the blind Jackal through the stone fortress. As he found a door that could led outside, the door opened on Ifrit’s face and almost smacked his snout if he did not lean back just at the right time. He quickly became surprised by the person who almost opened the door on him.

            The person wasn’t exactly a human, nor was he a hellhound or a Lycan. He was a Fuzandre, the chiropteran race from the Underworld. This Fuzandre, however, was someone Ifrit personally knew.

            “(Rhynsa)?” said Ifrit, surprised by the brown furred Fuzandre’s face. He did not wear a hood, just a cloak that covered his body and wings. The cloak’s design was different from what Ifrit last remembered, not to mention the Fuzandre was now wearing a shirt.

            Rhynsa was also surprised by Ifrit’s unexpected appearance, but quickly refocused himself and beckoned Ifrit to follow him, with Ifrit guiding the still naked Jackal. The night was freezing cold, with Ifrit also noticing white mounds that he had never seen before. They were cold on touch, like ice, but he had no time to even consider what they were as they ran deeper and deeper into the forest.

            After running for a while, they managed to be far enough from whatever place they were in for anyone to bother chasing them. As Ifrit was catching his breath, the Jackal was shivering as he did not expect the sudden change of temperature. Being emaciated also made things worse for him. Rhynsa promptly took off his cloak and wrapped it around the Jackal, who appreciated the warmth it produced.

            “(Oh, Rhynsa, I’m so glad I met you),” said Ifrit after catching his breath. “(I don’t know what the hell happened to me, but a friendly face is always welcome).”

            “(Oh, we’re friends, now?)” said Rhynsa with his usual snarky comment. “(Maybe you should start thinking about the pain of those you left because you want to act like a hero to save an idiot like me. Not that I mind, though).”

            “(Since when you care about me?)”

            “(I don’t care about you. I care about your new friend),” said Rhynsa while pointing at the Jackal. “(I expected him to be in there, but I didn’t expect you. One hell of a twist, huh? I was told to extract the Jackal, but I’ll take the bonus).” Then Rhynsa paused as he looked at Ifrit. Then, he smiled and hugged the hellhound while saying, “(I never thought I’d say this, but you look fine…Schelkz).”

            Ifrit was surprised by Rhynsa’s friendliness, considering how their previous meeting was rather hostile. They did settle on an uneasy truce before Ifrit plunged into the river. Something must’ve happened during the time he was gone.

            Ifrit then remembered something Rhynsa said about ‘back then’. Considering the cold weather, he must’ve been out of it for a while. So, he asked Rhynsa about the year.

            The answer surprised him.

            “(It’s winter of 1914),” said Rhynsa. “(A lot has changed since your apparent death. I think it’s safe to say that it all went to shit ever since then).”

            “(1914…that’s three years),” said Ifrit, surprised.

            Ifrit realized that things did change, and for the worst. The slaves in the fortress was one of many evidences that the worst possible situation happened.

            The Hellish Incursion had started.