The Mechanical Hound

"...What the hell does that even say?"

"How should we know? None of us can read Dungeon Language."

Curnel scratched his head in frustration. He prided himself on having weathered plenty of dungeon runs, but he had never set foot in a place so utterly bizarre. Vastly different biomes had been forcibly stitched together side by side, creating a landscape that defied every scrap of common sense he possessed.

It was hard enough to believe with his own eyes. If he ever made it back outside and described this absurdity, not a soul would take him seriously.

"What do we do, Boss?"

"What else? We find the exit. Move out, and stay sharp."

Curnel led his party forward with measured, cautious steps.

It was as they were cutting through a stretch of dense woodland that they stumbled upon the monster.

Clack, whir. Clack, whir.

"...What's that sound?"

Curnel and his companions casually turned their heads, only for their eyes to widen in stunned disbelief. Standing just ahead of them was a grotesque beast forged entirely from metal.

It had the rough silhouette of a hound, but that was where any resemblance to an ordinary animal ended.

Its entire chassis gleamed with an unnatural, muted metallic sheen. Its legs were not fluid limbs of flesh and bone, but sharply angled, mechanically bent assemblies that looked unsettlingly artificial. At a glance, it was unmistakable: this was merely something built in the shape of a canine.

Its head was even more unsettling. Where eyes should have been, a single cycloptic sensor burned with an ominous crimson light. It had no nose whatsoever. The jaw alone mirrored that of a predatory beast, yet set against the cold industrial framework, it only made the creature look that much more sinister.

"It looks like a dog, but..."

"Since when does a dog have a body made of metal?"

In that split second, an elongated mechanism mounted on its back snapped forward, leveling directly at the party.

Crack!

A deafening, whip-like report shattered the air. The man who had just muttered about the thing looking like a dog jerked violently and collapsed backward, a ragged, dark crimson hole punched clean through the bridge of his nose.

Thud.

"W-What just—"

Crack!

The scavenger standing right beside him, drenched in his comrade's spray, was drilled through the forehead before he could finish his sentence, his body flung backward onto the dirt.

Only then did Curnel realize they were facing a lethal ranged assault.

"Take cover! Scatter!"

Crack!

The scavengers scrambled frantically for nearby rocks and trees, but they could not outrun the gunfire. Another man took a round in the chest. While it wasn't an instant kill like the headshots, the damage tore through his torso all the same.

"H-Help me..."

The party's archer reached out a trembling, bloodstained hand toward his allies, but none of them could offer any help. He heaved a bloody cough, slumped over, and lay still as a dark pool spread outward into the soil.

"Boss! Is that... is that one of those dungeon weapons?!"

"Not just any weapon! It's a firearm!"

Curnel pressed his back against the rough surface of a boulder, breathing hard as his gaze darted across their cover.

"Edel! Edel!"

"I'm here!"

The woman who answered was clad in vestments resembling clerical robes, though tailored with narrow, snug sleeves rather than wide liturgical cuffs. It was an outfit modified specifically for combat, designed not to hinder swift, violent movement.

"Tell me you've got something! You're a priestess of the God of War—you have to have a defensive miracle that can hold against this!"

Edel knitted her brows, her expression grim as she weighed their options before nodding.

"I have one! But there's no guarantee it can block that kind of power!"

"You told me yourself last time! You said a War God's divine barrier hits harder and holds stronger than standard mage shields!"

"That's true, but—"

Crack!

Another gunshot cut her off mid-sentence. Dust sprayed off the edge of their boulder. When Curnel realized the shot had missed, he breathed a ragged sigh of relief.

"You just need to stop two shots! No, even one is enough! Buy me just a single second so I can unleash a magic scroll!"

Curnel had recruited a combat priestess from the Church of the God of War instead of a conventional mage. He had never regretted the choice until now, but if they wanted any chance to strike back at that mechanical nightmare, Edel had to buy him a window of opportunity.

Tearing an exorbitantly expensive magic scroll stung his purse, but there was no alternative. Dead men didn't spend gold. Survival came first, no matter the cost.

"Are you ready?!"

"...Yes!"

"On my count! Three! Two! One!"

Edel lunged out from behind the boulder, thrusting both palms forward as she cried out.

"Divine Shield!"

A radiant, shield-shaped barrier materialized before her, shimmering with holy light. Perhaps because it was fueled by divine energy, its warm glow seemed to steady the soul and stoke the embers of fighting spirit just by looking at it.

Curnel snapped into position directly behind her back and raised the scroll. It was inscribed with the 3rd-Circle fire spell, Fireball—one of the most widely used offensive spells in the world, with thoroughly proven destructive power.

Crack!

Suppressing the instinct to flinch, Curnel ripped the parchment in half. With the sharp sound of tearing paper, volatile mana flared outward, condensing into a blinding sphere of roaring crimson flames.

The Fireball crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, slamming directly into the mechanical hound.

BOOOM!

The blast sent up a deafening roar as flames engulfed the beast. Secondary pops and crackles erupted from its chassis, spitting yellow arcs of shrapnel and cooking ammunition into the air.

"Got him!"

"Nice one!"

Curnel pumped his fist in triumph and clasped a hand on the shoulder of the priestess, who was still holding her stance.

"Great work! Thanks to you, that thing is—"

Without warning, Edel's raised arms fell limp, and her legs gave out beneath her.

"What...?"

Panic spiked through Curnel. He instinctively lunged to catch her, but only managed an awkward grip on her forearm. Thrown off balance, he tumbled to the dirt beside her—and froze.

A dark crimson puncture sat directly between Edel's eyebrows. Her vacant, lifeless eyes stared straight at him, as though harboring a final, silent grievance. A chill ran down Curnel's spine. He had seen countless corpses in his line of work, but she had died carrying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out his direct request.

"I'm... I'm sorry."

Words meant nothing to a corpse, but Curnel forced himself to look at the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠practical side. Losing a reliable combat priestess was a terrible blow, but her sacrifice had ensured the rest of them survived. When the time came to strip her gear, he resolved to leave her in her undergarments rather than stripping her completely bare—a small courtesy to the dead.

"B-Boss!"

"What is it?!"

"That monster... it's still moving!"

"What?!"

Shoving Edel's limp body off him, Curnel snapped his head around at his subordinate's shout.

It was true. The mechanical dog was scorched black across its chassis, and the rifle mechanism mounted to its spine was battered and heavily warped, but its four limbs were still operating without pause. How the hell did it put out the fire so fast? The question vanished the moment he glanced past it: just adjacent to the forest was a miniature desert biome, where the beast had rolled through the sand.

"I-It's coming!"

It would have been terrifying enough at a walk, but the metallic beast was sprinting straight at them at full tilt. Cursing violently, Curnel scrambled to his feet. In his hand was another magic scroll. There was no time to worry about expenses now.

Riiip!

A salvo of sharp ice spears coalesced in the air and shot forward in a furious volley.

Thump! Crack!

The blood drained from the faces of Curnel and his surviving comrades. The hound, which had seemed to charge along an unbroken straight path, suddenly banked hard at an impossible angle.

The ice spears whistled through empty air, plunging uselessly into the frozen earth. Only the final spear clipped its flank, but...

Snap.

All it did was leave a shallow crust of frost across its metal plating.

"Boss, use another scroll! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hurry!"

"I don't have any left!"

"What?!"

"I'm out! We only bought two with the party funds!"

"Th-Then..."

Curnel drew his broadsword with a harsh scrape of steel.

"We settle this with steel. What are you waiting for?! You want to just roll over and die?!"

"N-No, sir!"

Their surviving force was down to two swordsmen and one shield-bearing vanguard. Instinctively, they fell into formation: the shield bearer took the center to absorb the charge, while the two swordsmen flanked him to strike from both sides.

"Focus!"

With Curnel's roar, the mechanical beast closed the remaining distance and leaped into the air.

CRASH!

"Guh...!"

The heavy shield shattered on impact, and the vanguard was hurled backward through the air. He hit the ground like a sack of stones and lay motionless, whether dead or merely unconscious impossible to tell.

Seeing their frontline anchor wiped out in a single blow sent sheer terror through Curnel's veins, but he didn't miss the fraction of a second the beast spent recovering its balance.

"Now! Hack it to pieces!"

"Die!"

Channeling every ounce of mana they could muster, Curnel and his companion brought their blades down toward the creature. The head looked far too durable to split, so they targeted the comparatively thinner joint assemblies in its legs.

CLANG!

A jarring shockwave traveled up Curnel's arms, nearly tearing the hilt from his grip.

"B-Boss! This bastard is too tough!"

Their strikes hadn't been entirely useless; the metal plating around the joints was notched and gouged. But at this rate, their wrists would shatter long before they managed to sever the limbs.

Shaking off the momentum of the clash, the mechanical hound regained its footing instantly.

With a fluid pivot, it evaded the other swordsman's thrust and lunged forward, snapping its jaws down around the man's wrist.

"Aaaaargh!"

As the man's wrist bone splintered, his posture buckled in agony. The hound capitalized without missing a beat, shifting its bite to clamp down violently on his throat.

CRUNCH.

"Guh... hork..."

With his cervical vertebrae crushed, the swordsman choked on his own blood before slumping lifelessly into the grass.

"You piece of shit!"

Seeing the beast's flank exposed, Curnel brought his sword down in a desperate, full-powered cleave. But the hound dropped its hindquarters low, letting the blade whistle harmlessly overhead. It moved as though it had eyes in the back of its skull.

"What kind of—"

It didn't stop there. The instant it reset its footing, its rear legs kicked out like a coiled spring.

Taking the mule-kick straight to his chest, Curnel was sent hurtling backward through the air, crashing hard into a nearby tree. By sheer rotten luck, a jagged, broken branch jutted out from the trunk right in his path.

Squelch.

Beyond the fractured ribs from the impact, the sharp branch drove straight through his heart. Curnel vomited a mouthful of dark blood.

"F-Fuck... how does this make any f-fucking sense..."

His dying curse trailed off into a rasp, and his head dropped limp.

"...What in the world did we just witness?"

"I'd say we just watched a masterclass in how efficiently a mechanical dog can slaughter people."

Watching Curnel's entire party get wiped out from the observation deck above, Bennett's group fell into a stunned silence.

If circumstances had been just a little different, that could easily have been their fate down there.

Bennett turned his attention toward the console screen mounted nearby.

The text displayed in Dungeon Language had updated.

Down amid the bloodied corpses, the mechanical hound dropped to its haunches and powered down.

To an outside observer, it simply looked as though it had abruptly broken down.

"...Did it malfunction?"

"Most likely."

Standing by the observation window, Bennett turned to the group.

"Let's move through while it's down. Quickly."

The party followed without a word of protest. Even if the construct had stopped moving, there was no telling when it might reactivate. Slipping past while it was inert was the only sensible choice.

"Bennett, there's a staircase over here."

The metal staircase was crudely built but sturdy, leading directly down toward the testing grounds below. Each bootstep produced a heavy, hollow thud against the iron risers.

When they reached the bottom, they found themselves ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right at the edge of the bloodbath.

Mangled corpses and pools of crimson were strewn across the ground.

And right in the center of the carnage, the mechanical dog sat without the slightest twitch of movement.

Even without Bennett giving an explicit command, the party members kept their mouths shut and quickened their pace, trying to cross the clearing as soundlessly as possible.

Squish!

The party instantly froze in place. Erika, who had inadvertently stepped squarely into a pool of gore, looked on the verge of tears.

It's fine.

Bennett raised a hand to keep her from panicking, then slowly turned his head to check on the hound.

His eyes locked straight onto the mechanical beast, which had tilted its head at an angle and was staring right at them.

Damn it.

The eerie, crimson optical sensor bore unblinkingly into Bennett. But then—

The red glow softly shifted into a bright, docile green.

"...?"

Even Bennett, whose finger had already settled onto the trigger of Shooting Star, could only pause in bewildered silence.