Chapter 11: Beware the Rassith

  Expelled from the portal, they landed on cracked stone in the middle of a vast lava field.

  Idalia's gaze swept the magma rivers glowing red beneath a haze of heat. Her paws burned against the rock, her fur flaring from the furnace wind.

  She wriggled free, scrambling to her feet and howled at her abductor. "Why are we running? You almost had him!"

  Hirohowl wheeled on her, his fangs bared, mane flickering with fury. "Almost is death, Idalia!" His eyes flickered away. "I was a fool."

  Just then, a quake of dread shook them. The ground behind them warped, and the air shattered like glass.

  Idalia's ears flattened. She knew that sound.

  Rassith stepped through the distortion, its hollow sockets burning brighter than before. It had followed them. Even in Hirohowl's defeat, it was not done.

  "He's here…" she whispered.

  Hirohowl braced himself, the metallic scent of his dripping blood wafted from the lava crack's fumes. His voice was steady, but grim.

  "Then we stand together. Because running won't save us."

  Idalia swallowed hard, claws trembling against the rock. She had wanted to prove herself. Now there would be no choice.

  The Hollow Lord's roar split the sky above, a furious herald of certain doom. The hunt was not over. Here it was, poised and diabolical.

  Idalia winced when it charged once more. But Hirohowl stamped his feet, head tilted, and with a violent snap of his head a seismic roar erupted from his throat. The shockwave slammed into Idalia, causing her to tighten her grip on Hirohowl's leg. That same [Atomic Burst] he unleashed, exploded forth like a bomb, ripping apart the volcanic ground.

  Rassith rocked back, the force sending him skidding, but nothing could keep the undead lord down. He shook it off and dashed forward the moment Hirohowl's attack faded.

  Idalia felt the sharp bite of Hirohowl's teeth as he grabbed her by the scruff and launched himself away, the terrifying creature hot on their heels. She scrambled up his face, finding a grip on his back, as the young warrior thundered across the lava field.

  In Idalia's peripheral vision, the heat shimmered so thickly that even her sight became warped. Her lungs ached, and her paws burned from held-back fear and adrenaline.

  Rassith ran along their flank, steady and haunting. It did not sprint now. It stalked! The Hollow Lord knew it had its prey cornered. And Idalia trembled, seeing it for what it was. It was a horrible taunt. A twisted mockery of the hunt.

  She squeaked when Rassith grinned, fangs glinting in the molten light. It took pleasure in slamming its shoulder against Hirohowl's. The spike on the beast's shoulder cutting into fur, but Hirohowl managed to maneuver with a sharp, inelegant twist.

  Then Rassith spun, lashing claws across Hirohowl's face. Particles sprayed from the wound like a shower of embers, painting Hirohowl's neck with a crimson mask. And he roared a visceral response fueled by both injury and fury.

  Idalia's heart raced as she felt the vibrations ripple through Hirohowl's frame. Her heart ached for him. But she had to voice her trepidation elsewhere. "Hirohowl! We need to find its weakness!"

  She faced the Carnotaur, its hollow eyes were filled with hunger. It lunged, revealing a ghastly, jagged maw that emanated a stench of decay, snuffing out her remaining hope.

  Hirohowl sidestepped just in time; Idalia felt the wind of Rassith's jaws gnashing dangerously close to his flank. "Look for its core!" he bellowed. Idalia strained her eyes, searching for anything that might reveal a weakness in the fiend's form.

  That's when she noticed it. A faint glow emanating from the creature's chest, hidden beneath layers of shadow and bone. "There! Its heart!" she yelled.

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  Hirohowl adjusted his stance. With a fierce roar, he launched himself toward Rassith, teeth bared and claws poised to strike. As he leapt, Idalia screamed, felling the rush of the wind against her fur.

  The Phantom Carnotaur anticipated the attack, twisting its form like liquid nightmare. It met Hirohowl mid-air with a thunderous crash, an eruption of energy that sent shockwaves through the very ground beneath them.

  The collision was a violent spectacle that echoed like thunder in the desolation. Idalia was momentarily thrown off balance, but she clung to Hirohowl's bleeding neck like it were her last.

  Then, in a moment that stunned both her and Rassith, Hirohowl went [Berserk] and unleashed a blinding [Portal Ray]. It blasted Rassith backward, slamming him into a wall of stone that crumbled down upon him with a deafening roar.

  Hirohowl lowered his horns, shoulders slumped, shaking with exhaustion. But somehow his voice was steady and calm in his state of [Rage].

  "Cling to me, Idalia. If I fall, run. If I stand, roar with me."

  Her claws dug deeper into his fiery mane that distinguished his [Rage].

  Yet Hirohowl had restraint. Control. It confused her little mind. She searched. She sensed. She could feel his muscles trembling beneath her, every breath ragged, every ounce of pride keeping him upright. But the truth remained hidden.

  And that moment of respite was lost, as the Hollow Lord leapt free from the debris with a dazzling spray of stones.

  Hirohowl met it head-on, horn against horn, claws tearing bone, roars blasting against spectral shrieks. The clash sent shockwaves that fractured the lava crust, fountains of fire hissing upward.

  Idalia held on for dear life as the world around her spun and trembled beneath her. And she was left with a stomach churning concern. Hoping to her flaming ancestors that she would not be flung into the middle of this storm-like skirmish.

  Below her, Hirohowl was bled, gashed, bruised, getting outpaced, but he submitted himself to rising to the top of this fight.

  However, Idalia's heart pounded as she pressed herself tightly against his nape. She wanted to help, to fight, but her own claws barely scratched stone. What could she possibly do against such a thing?

  She was no longer afraid anymore. Just concerned!

  Her ears perked. Pupils constricted. She remembered what the Fangborn had said: the phantoms wage war in the mind. If fear was their weapon, then defiance was hers.

  Why not search the field while Hirohowl fights?!

  And she did just that. She memorized. She marked, trying to imagine the areas of the lava-brimming zone. Lava. Heat. Red veins. Rock lines. Did Rassith resist this?

  She didn't know. But she could try trialing him with fire!

  Her mind burned with vivid images. She clung to them, searing them into focus, sharper than scent, sharper than sound.

  Her chest throbbed with confusion. Why was she able to do this? Why not Hirohowl? Why not the others? They roared. They clawed. They bled. But none of them had ever stopped to focus on one point, one place, with nothing but will and imagination. Why her? Why now?

  Her voice cracked, but she roared again, and with it, the spark in her chest ignited. Spatial energy gathered, not in her throat this time, but in the rhythm of Hirohowl's charge. She understood, suddenly, that her strength wasn't just in striking.

  It was in opening the way.

  The Hollow Lord reared back, sockets burning brighter, and it dove; not at Hirohowl, but at her, its claws aimed to tear her from his back.

  Idalia's eyes widened. The world slowed. Instinct took over. [Spatial Sight] activated.

  She could see the entire field. Like Alpha Pawail insisted how he could see the stars. And in her domain, she saw Rassith's core. Its essence. Her targets.

  "Core… mine!" She flared her jaws, and with a desperate cry, unleashed another [Portal Breath].

  Not wide. Not wild. She shaped it small, precise, an answer to the absolute focus burning in her skull. Into a trap.

  Rassith's claws tapped her face—

  —and the Hollow Lord was yanked chest-first into the portal.

  The air ripped with distortion, space folding, and with a thunderous crash the portal reappeared elsewhere. And it spat Rassith out into the lava lake below.

  The Hollow Lord plunged into the molten fire. It flailed. It roared. Its voice fracturing into echoes as the lava consumed its ribs, its skull, its hollow crown.

  The sound lingered even as its body sank beneath the molten tide.

  Silence followed. Only the bubbling of the lava field remained.

  Hirohowl's legs buckled, his breath shuddering, but he stayed upright. Idalia clung to his mane, wide-eyed, her chest heaving. Spent. Exhausted.

  She had done it. Not with claws, not with fangs, but with something she barely understood. Focus, imagination, and instinct.

  Hirohowl's eyes flicked back at her. The defiant pride in his gaze softened, but confused.

  "By ashfall! You saved us."

  Idalia shook her head, still trembling. "We saved us."

  But even as she said it, her mind swirled. The pebble, the battlefield, the lava lines—why her? Why could she see and shape what the others could not? Why Hirohowl had never tried. Why no one else ever did. But there was one.

  Alpha Pawail.

  Her attention went back to Hirohowl. The young warrior managed a bloodied grin. He lifted his head and roared into the orange sky, not for victory. But for defiance, for survival, for pride.

  And Idalia, clinging to his back, roared with him. But her voice shook not only with triumph. It trembled with questions that burned brighter than fire. How did she do it? Was she different?

  Ow! She flinched, paw darting to the hot sting in her neck. Wet.

  She saw it. Blood specks. Hers. Her first wound! A mark to show, to boast. But it made her dizzy. Lightheaded.

  Her ears twitched. Motes moved. Movement… there!

  From the lava's glare, the faint shimmer of a nine-tailed fox climbed free, Rassith's skull clutched in its tails.

  Idalia's fur bristled. Why take that?

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