Fell Hounds' Feast
Goddamn it!!~~ "So, care to explain this situation~ Hmm? Allen? Derek?"
"Well, boss... the thing is..."
"&*#@%^*..."
A night we'd been deeply asleep in. A massive explosion and tremendous vibrations suddenly rocked the fortress from the front, jolting us all awake. We rushed out in alarm, and what did we find? A gang of suspiciously robed figures had been subdued—by whatever Derek commanded, in the midst of being eaten alive.
The mages couldn't even scream; limbs torn off, they collapsed in terror and despair, devoured by formless things. It was only when Allen pointed at the shadows of the fallen that we understood the cause.
Not quite dire wolves, but countless hunting hound-shaped shadows swarmed around their shadows, tearing and devouring them.
That's when I realized what had caught them: creatures called Fell Hounds (not sure if "creatures" is the right term). Born from the hellfire blazing like the sun in Muspelheim, they lived in shadows fueled by that infernal light.
Just as the flames endlessly burned in search of fuel, these shadows craved light—energy, mana. With their insatiable hunger for mana and ability to transcend time and space, emerging wherever shadows formed, these intangible shadow hounds were mages' natural predators.
Of course, they threatened knights and ordinary humans too, but they targeted the pure mana accumulated by mages, devouring even spells with their voracious appetites. Those without mana or magic were rarely attacked.
Their sole weakness? Holy power—the miraculous strength granted by gods to faithful priests. They were pathetically vulnerable to it. To the point where a pack of Fell Hounds lunging at a priest infused with holy power would writhe in agony from the sacred light upon contact, incinerating into oblivion.
"So, Allen. Did Derek speak normally?"
"Huh? Uh, yeah... but he's gone off the rails again, muttering to himself."
"&*#@$*..."
"Sigh~ Don't act on your own next time. With Derek losing it like this, we'll take turns sticking with him from now on. Keep him from going rogue. More importantly... Derek! Don't kill those mages yet! Got it?!"
Nod!
"&*#@$*..."
His mouth muttered incomprehensible nonsense nonstop, but his head nodded vigorously.
I headed toward the blood-soaked mages, limbs ripped off and sprawled out.
Watching the shadow hounds gnaw at their shadows was pure cosmic horror. A scene that would make an ordinary person vomit blood. But after six years in this hellhole—starting with my plague-ridden mother's death, freezing beggars, beaten ones—I'd grown numb to it.
The ten mages still clung to life, but massive blood loss meant they could die any moment. So, only one thing left for me to do.
'If you're gonna die anyway, at least cough up your faces for me~♪ A mage's face? Precious offering!'
Squelch!
"Gaaarrrghhh!!--"
"Hmm~ Still alive~♪"
I deformed my hand, revealing the claws from my deal with Dantalian, and peeled off the fallen mages' facial skins. They writhed in agony, but that wasn't my problem.
For whatever reason, they'd targeted us, climbed to the fortress, and tried to kill Allen and Derek with magic. This was self-defense. No mercy for those who came at us.
No need for interrogation; I could read memories perfectly from their facial skins.
'And if I wear a mage's face... maybe I can use magic like Allen?'
Fantasy meant magic! Who hadn't dreamed of becoming a mage?
Here was the fastest way for me to learn it. I meticulously peeled their faces one by one, like slicing butter. Like carving delicate sculptures. Slowly, like paring fruit skin, without damaging the faces.
Scrape! Scrape! Scrape! Scrape!
Grraaaaaahhh!!!---
"Mmm~♪"
I hummed a tune with their screams as melody, stripping their skins. Guilt? The moment they targeted us, I had no intention of sparing them.
In a kill-or-be-killed world. As a bottom-rung beggar, I'd seen every ugly human horde, endured every hellish life.
Born son of an unknown whore, abandoned in winter after my plague-dead mother's corpse. Beaten daily by the beggar king for failing quotas. Dragged as a meat shield into gang fights, sold into slavery. Sacrificed for an evil mage's demon summon. Spared by demonic whim, but enslaved as its minion.
That was me. All I had left: stubborn grit and the will to survive at any cost.
Happy families and peaceful lives were distant dreams. Even simple joys—laughing with these kids who'd suffered like me, eating good food—shone dazzlingly bright to me.
Anything trying to steal that light... I'd kill them all. Without mercy, every last one!
** ... ... ...
Crunch! Splatter!--
"Gaaaaahhhh!!~"
"Good~ Now the last one... That guy's robe looks fancy, so probably the leader?"
I'd stripped nine mages' faces. Left was a white-haired old mage in luxurious robes embroidered with golden thread on fine white fabric.
Like the others, limbs torn off, sprawled and slowly devoured by Fell Hounds.
His eyes blazed with furious flames, his mad face screaming curses.
"You filthy demon scum!!~~ I'll kill you all!!~~ Never forgive!!-- Graaaahhh!!--"
"Tch! You come here to die and spout nonsense? Hand over your face, you senile geezer!--"
Squelch!
Crrrrunch!
"Gaaaaahhhh! I'll kill you!!~~ You demon scum!!~~"
Crack!
Thrashing in desperation for life—or madness from fear and pain—I gripped his face steady and peeled his skin too.
The latecomers, drawn by the commotion, trembled in horror at my actions.
Mangled mage corpses strewn about. Me peeling faces amid a sea of blood.
Even Malcolm and Tucker gasped, turning away and covering the kids' eyes.
'Guess this is as far as we go together... Can't keep them around like before.'
They were good folks at heart, and watching them bond with the kids had been nice. But I couldn't drag them into this anymore.
Time to part ways tomorrow.
Crrrrunch!
"Gaaaaahhh!!--"
"Precious face skin. Thanks~♪"
Hummmm--
"Hm?"
"Groooarrr!!~~ I'll have my revenge!!~~ Definitely!!~~"
Whoooosh!!--
... ...
"Wh-what?! He vanished?!"
"Boss! It's just like when those uncle guys appeared at the house with you last time!"
"Yeah! He popped out with light!"
'No way... spatial transfer?! Warp magic?!'
From Jean and Pablo's words, I finally understood the madman's escape. Amid being eaten, he'd cast Warp to flee!
Fell Hounds devoured magic too, per my knowledge, but somehow he'd escaped. He knew our identities and faces, and lived to flee—pursuers might come next.
All my fault for getting complacent.
"Goddamn it!!~~"
** ... ... ...
"White Lord. How fares Lord Ostis?!"
"Blue Lord. Reporting to Lord Gunter: his condition remains critical! All mana drained from his body, limbs lost... and his facial skin peeled off."
Shudder--
"What... what monster inflicted such horrific torture?!"
Midnight, Ostis returned via warp array. Mages rushed his mangled form to the tower's medical ward. Calming his ravings, they worked desperately to treat him.
Gunter arrived first upon hearing, clenching fists in rage at the report.
A tower elder, the White Lord—his return in such a state naturally shook Gunter, his peer and fellow elder.
"We... we forcibly sedated him with magic as he raged like he might spit blood. Once treatment finishes..."
"Hmph... Ostis. What the hell happened to you..."
Thud. Thud.
"Likely the deed of the Manbianja Dantalian."
"Richard? Manbianja Dantalian? Explain."
"The being of thousands, millions of forms. Demon that collects faces. Tower of endless faces harvesting human skins. Only Dantalian among the 666 demons—or something connected—would peel faces."
"Hmph..."
"That's what I said! We had to stop Pladeus's reckless demon contract! Result: Pladeus dead, Ostis like that! Complacency birthed this tragedy!!"
...
"At dawn, I'll convene the elders—not to seek Pladeus's legacy, but to destroy it and eradicate whoever did this to Ostis. Gunter! You'll oppose again?!"
"... Understood. With things this far, I'll agree to abandon Pladeus's legacy."
"Wise choice."
"Moreover! To erase whoever did this to Ostis... I'll request aid from the temple."
"What?! Gunter! What the..."
"Didn't you say complacency caused this? If we're ending it, do it thoroughly!"
"... Exposing our shame to the temple. If they learn of Pladeus's demon ritual, we'll face headaches."
"I'll phrase it carefully. Convene the elders at dawn."
Gunter and Richard, resolved to see it through, called the mages' meeting. With events escalated, no elder could oppose Richard.
The forbidden knowledge's allure was a poisoned fruit. No dying with serpent apple in mouth. Fearing demons loose, the mages sought temple aid.
Ostis's survival brought new threats to Actor.