Chapter 45: Bloodhounds
The Bloodhounds, Viscount Reval Drenwick’s hidden blade. When the job was too filthy for his knights, they were the ones he sent. Kidnapping, murder, blackmail, and anything in between, they carried out every order without hesitation.
Once orphans, they were taken in by the Viscount’s household, broken down, and rebuilt into perfect tools. Obedience was carved into them before they even learned what freedom meant.
Before becoming a bloodhound, they were nameless fangs. Most remained nameless fangs until death. But the few who clawed their way up, those whose instincts and brutality surpassed all, were named Bloodhounds.
***
The leader of the Bloodhounds, wearing a white fox’s mask, was staring at the battlefield, watching the nameless fangs who had eaten hallucinogens charge towards the enemy only to be obliterated.
Blood was the music of purpose. Screams were merely ambient noise.
The enemy force they were tasked to eliminate, alongside the villagers, was clearly no ordinary rabble. They were using unusual spells. At a distance, he saw a large object in the east that was spitting large metal balls, which caused the most damage.
’Not a spell, a weapon. We first need to take down that weapon and, if possible, use it for ourselves.’
The leader then looked at the east side, which had the most mages firing fireball spells every now and then. They were most likely only first circle Mages, who weren’t that much of a threat to them.
The leader then stared at the young man who seemed to be commanding this group of soldiers. Even at this distance, with the bloodhound leader’s enhanced sight using aura, he was able to see clearly.
’White hair that’s like snow, and ruby-red eyes. He must be the eldest son of the Iron Duke... It doesn’t matter. It simply means our prey has a name, but our orders remain the same. Names mean nothing to a hound. All that matters is to follow our orders.’