No Matter Left or Right, It's a Dog
The thing on the floor was a dog, no matter if he looked left or right. He wasn't sure of the breed, but it had a strangely familiar look.
To put it simply, it resembled one of those dopey village mutts you see in the countryside. Sure, mutts had their own charm, but this appearance was way too abrupt.
Yoahim let out a hum from his mouth as he stared at the talking dog. This was a game world, not reality, so a talking dog wasn't entirely out of the question. A bit bizarre, though.
"Did you call me here?"
"I'm not a dog!"
The voice was shockingly loud for such a small body. Yoahim flinched and took a step back.
"No, it looks like a dog from every angle..."
"Not a dog! Wolf!"
"What?"
Dogs and wolves were the same species genetically, so this cute pup claiming to be a wolf wasn't entirely wrong if you dug deep enough. The problem was, the more he looked, the more it just seemed like a familiar mutt.
"A wolf?"
"Yes! I'm the faithful hound of Lord Haellagos! The werewolf Eliya!"
Calling itself a "hound" instead of a "wolfman"—wasn't that subconsciously admitting it was a dog? Yoahim decided not to point it out, sensing a headache coming on.
"You're really a werewolf?"
Werewolves were similar to shapeshifters. Like those who transformed into other people, werewolves could freely shift between wolf, human, and werewolf forms at will. Legends spoke of a curse of madness turning people into werewolves under a full moon, but actual werewolves could change anytime without one. They weren't entirely immune to its influence, but they could suppress it with willpower—or just go to bed early on full moon nights.
That's why werewolves often hid among humans. They could eat people as per the tales, but they didn't prefer human flesh. Why risk crime when you could buy tastier meat at the market with coin?
'But public perception sucks.'
Even if most werewolves didn't hunt humans, ancient prejudices lingered. They were monsters who could turn into wolves, after all. Some still did hunt people, so discovery meant brutal death—heads on pikes, skins as wall trophies.
'Did this one end up here fleeing persecution?'
Haellagos welcomed all who believed in Kallagon, making the Withered Land ideal for werewolves.
"Hard to believe. Then transform into your werewolf form."
"Why don't you believe me!"
Eliya growled in anger, but it wasn't scary at all.
"Open your eyes wide and look!"
To prove itself, Eliya shifted into werewolf form. With a somewhat lacking howl, it stood on hind legs, body growing as it took shape.
But the problem was...
"Huff huff huff."
'The face is the same?'
The body enlarged, but the face stayed put. It was a werewolf, sure, but that village mutt vibe made it feel... not. Maybe some ancestor fooled around with dogs.
"Uh, yeah... werewolf... sure is. Hm."
Face aside, Eliya was undeniably a werewolf. Yoahim nodded, and Eliya—still huffing—shifted back to dog form. Wolf form, that is.
"Haha! Now you believe me!"
Watching Eliya wag its tail furiously, Yoahim pondered. I wonder what its human form looks like.
"So, Eliya, why'd you seek me out?"
"To relay Lord Haellagos's words, of course! Training should be done by now—he said to bring you!"
A good pup running errands for its master. Yoahim nodded.
"He wants to see me? Why?"
"No idea! I'm just the messenger!"
Yoahim fell silent watching Eliya bark proudly. Fair enough—a dog delivering a message was impressive.
"Hold on. Sparring's almost over—wait till then."
"Got it!"
Eliya obediently waited as ordered until Leon's sparring ended in defeat, as usual. Yoahim called out.
"Hey, Kelcia!"
"Yes, Apostle! What is it... Oh!"
Kelcia rushed over but froze, eyes wide. She pointed, shouting.
"It's Eliya! What brings you here? Come!"
"Woof!"
Eliya spotted her and leaped into her arms, tail wagging as it panted happily. Pure pet dog vibes.
"Eliya! Paw!"
"Woof!"
"Sit!"
"Woof woof!"
"Bang!"
"Woof woof!"
"Haha! Good boy!"
Yoahim shook his head watching them play. No, it's just a dog anywhere you look...
"Oh my, so cute. Even the Withered Land has adorable pups?"
Sasha, done with training, cooed at Eliya. Objectively, it was cute to anyone.
"Not a pup! I'm the werewolf Eliya!"
Grrr! Eliya growled, but Sasha wasn't fazed—just smiled and clasped her hands.
"Sorry, Lord Eliya. A werewolf, huh? Mind if I pet you? You're just so cute..."
"C-cute?"
"Just a quick pet!"
Eliya tried to escape, but Sasha grabbed its neck, rubbing her face on it.
Yoahim sighed. For Haellagos's hound, it lacked reliability.
"Kelcia."
"Y-yes? You called, Apostle?"
"I'm heading to the Spire Tower. Haellagos wants me."
"Ah, so Eliya came all this way with a message from Lord Haellagos? See you tomorrow then. Great work!"
"Yeah, rest up."
Yoahim waved lightly and headed straight for the Spire Tower. Exhausted from grueling training, but a short break had restored some stamina.
'Definitely feeling the stamina boost.'
Daily harsh training paid off. Higher vitality meant less fatigue from the same workload.
"You look way more worn out than when you first arrived."
Walking the streets, he passed castle residents. He hadn't been here long, but the mood had shifted noticeably.
'War's impact.'
The terrifyingly named Withered Land was still home to the living. Undead didn't care, but dark elves and demons suffered food shortages. Barren land worsened by wartime levies—markets were thinning out. Even safe rear folk weren't immune.
'Hope Aljes and the adjutants handle it well.'
Yoahim prayed for their victory as he entered the tower, taking the inter-floor lift to Haellagos's level. He walked between massive pillars.
"You've come, Apostle."
Haellagos, reviewing papers, removed his glasses and set them on the round table. Pinching his nose bridge with eyes closed, he beckoned closer.
"What, even the great demon lord wears glasses?"
"Even great demon lords find paperwork tough. Sorting and synthesizing daily intel is grueling."
Yoahim chuckled at the un-demonic joke. Instead of sitting, he rested a hand on the chair back.
"So, why'd you summon me?"
"Got Kelcia's report on your training."
As his ward, Haellagos had a duty to track his growth. Yoahim didn't see it as surveillance.
He nodded slowly, awaiting more.
"She says you're improving daily. Even veteran instructor Kelcia is impressed."
Praise felt awkward. Yoahim cleared his throat.
"And?"
"I want to see the results. To know how far you've come, how strong—before the next step."
"You wanna test my strength."
Haellagos nodded.
"Yes. Tomorrow after training, spar one of my knights."
Commander Aljes was at war, but some knights guarded the tower. Likely Lv.70-80, below deputy Bille—a fair fight for Yoahim.
"If I lose?"
"Train more with Kelcia. I'd be disappointed."
"And if I win?"
"As an apostle, you should. Funny demanding reward."
Haellagos smirked, stroking his mouth.
"I'll find you a new teacher. To grow stronger."
"That's a given. Anything else? Like a new weapon?"
"Cheeky. Want a demon sword?"
Demon swords arose from famed blades corrupted by curses or black magic—powerful but harmful to wielders. Useless junk.
Yoahim shook his head; Haellagos laughed again.
"Then something else."
He extended a hand, mana swirling at his fingertips into black flames. Violet-burning, they captivated Yoahim instantly.
"I'll teach you black magic. And if you shine as vanguard in the war..."
The flames surged wildly, growing endlessly, as if devouring the room, radiating intense heat.
Hot. Skin-scorching hot.
Yet Yoahim stood rooted, eyes fixed on the center. On the great demon lord mastering flames like an incarnation.
"My secret magic."
Yoahim licked his parched lips from the heat. His mouth curved up.
"...Yeah, that's more like it."