Reincarnated Into A Hell Hound - Chapter 104

A growl resonates from the side, followed by another, then another, and when I look back I only have enough time to see dark shadows dashing forward, passing over me as I jump up and backward, avoiding whatever could be rushing our way from the darkness.

But that precaution was unnecessary.

Because soon after Mao Zexian is attacked by all directions… by hounds! It takes me a few seconds to realize that those were the Hell Hounds I saw before patrolling the place, and some had high levels themselves, nothing compared to myself and probably Cain of course, but so many at once made a formidable foe to most.

Some of them were only in their Doberman form and looking like mere bigger dogs, but some had the same explosive appearance my mother had back in the day, with dark red scales all over their bodies and strong jaws snaring at him and snapping in the air, a banging sound coming from their sturdy muscles demonstrating just how strong that bite is.

With a quick look over I can count 4 of them, 2 being level 30 and without a hell form, one being level 45 burning to the side, and the biggest one being level 52 with a bull of a body full of muscle and scales, horns growing on his back and making him look even bigger.

They were rather weak compared to us individually, but to common folk they were very deadly, especially like this, together as a pack, only that as a normal hound; just like my dumb brother; all of them chose the fire path, getting rid of the shadow element and focusing on being a beacon of blazing flames.

What’s up with their d.o.g.g.y brains and fire anyway? Am I the only one who sees the glory of having the Shadow element and not making myself a walking torch?

Plus what the hell were they doing here?

Ding – Voice of command level up 124 –

Wait, how that evolved my voice of Command? I have trained that magic while using my shadows and fire army, transforming it into a link to clearly give out orders, but I have never tried in living things…

Ok, I’m lying, I tried, but it didn’t work… until now.

Why is that? Is it because we are from the same species? But if I remember right the description has never mentioned something like that, right? Or perhaps… is another reason?

No time to figure it out now, if they are fighting against Cain, then they are fighting on my side; and I with them.

That’s why I jump beside them, not stealthy so they don’t mistake me for an enemy; and because that way I can really check if they are on my side; as the smaller weaker ones step aside and tuck their stump tails between their legs, scared of such a high-level creature as myself, but the strongest one of them only gazes at me for a second, enough for our eyes to meet as he makes the group focus once more on Cain while growling.

“Well well, if things didn’t get troublesome…” Mao Zexian says, but his words are not portrayed on his carefree expression.

I watch as he stands straight and, suddenly, hits the crystal blades on each other, shattering them as if they were made of glass even though they felt solid and sharp as metal before.

Without the invisible blades he puts the swords together back to back, and with a click they attach to each other, explaining why one was longer than the other, making it look like a long lance with a very wide blade at the front and another at the back.

At that he separates his legs and half crouches, leaving the blade down and back while the hand in the front was at the form of a palm, all fingers together in a tight embrace as they point upwards.

As he stood there, ready for battle, his eyes never left mine, and with a smile and a sharp gaze his fingers move and bend up and down, taunting us to step forward.

With a growl we attack.

The low levels reach first and are wiped out by his first attack, a wide arch from the blade that covers all his front and back as he moves his feet to the side, twisting his body with the movement while being able to reach all around him.

The other two surround him from opposites sides while I do the same, circulating and boxing him up, so when his first move was used up we jump towards him.

Only that he wasn’t done with his attack yet.

I’m only able to take the other hounds out of there with my Shadow Tentacles when my fur stands on edge and a blue-white lighting starts to creep up on his lance-sword.

And it makes me realize that his name, The Roaring Dragon, was not for naught.

“Soaring Dragon Slash!” He screams when he finally stops rotating his body, bringing the blade further forward while the lightening increases in quantity and speed, like a nest of snakes going wild.

At some point the wind joins in, and both unite in a turmoil that takes the shape of a snake dragon with a pair of white bright eyes and a mouth full of teeth that opens up to let a defying growl out as it shakes the fallen trees and stones surrounding us, the mere force of that roar squishes my racing heart and creates pressure on my chest.

“Fire Shield!” I say as I’m unable to escape the attack just for how quick and sudden it surged, plus having used my ways of escape to help the others out.

As weird as it sounds, however, I had learned a few things from my brother too, especially what concerns fire magic since he, somehow, was good at it.

From my mouth a fan of fire spills out and quickly covers the floor, rising up high above and curving into a half-circle, the orange-red flames shining in the night like an astral image, the lines shinning like veins as it burned vividly.

But fire is not a very good thing to make a shield out of, especially since is not even solid, so while the dragon collided with it in a bright shocking explosion I dash back until I was far enough from the rage of damage created by our magic’s impact collision to watch it unfold.

Like a thunderstorm it feels like two massive clouds had just collided, the fire and the lighting mixing together and getting more volatile by the second, until the white-blue and orange-red fuse together and expand, exploding and making me look away from the too-bright light.

Once I look back, however, Mao Zexian is flying once more, his clothes fluttering wildly with the force of the explosion, and only adding to his already astonishing figure is the moon and the full of stars sky framing him from behind making his ornaments glint and his eyes shine as he looked down at me.

He sheaths his swords with a single swing of his arms and body with the confidence of someone who had done it many times before, and says:

“Well, it seems like our playtime is over, but don’t worry, I felt like we will meet each other soon, very soon, and by then you will have changed your mind…I will make sure you do.”

At that he throws something at me, onde of his crystal transparent daggers, but his aim is off and it hits the floor in front of me, and when I see that there is something warped around the weapon and look up only to discover that he is already gone.

And the night doesn’t stay quiet for long.