Chapter 14
The clearing erupted in motion and violence.
The hounds moved with surgical synchronicity—blurs of tooth and muscle, each step fueled by the Viora current pulsing in their veins. These weren't beasts. They were weapons—tuned to the rhythms of destruction, forged in the gene-furnaces of Kruger's war academies.
But Kiro wasn't prey.
Not anymore.
The Blood God's will surged through him, deeper than thought. He felt his muscles shift mid-motion, tendons realigning with brutal efficiency, bones flexing under pressure. His instincts were no longer human. They were ancient.
The first hound came in low.
Kiro twisted, slamming his knee into its skull and spinning to deliver an upward slash with Blood Venom. The weapon screamed as it extended—part blade, part tendril, all hunger. It sank into flesh. Not deep enough to kill—but enough to mark.
The second hound lunged for his throat.
Kiro ducked beneath the strike, planting a foot against the beast's chest and launching himself backward—using its momentum to flip into the air. He landed hard, slid across the dirt, and came up into a stance that hadn't been taught.
It had been remembered.
Rhel watched silently from the edge of the battlefield, eyes unreadable. He didn't command the hounds. He didn't need to. They moved as he willed.