Page 169 of A Hail From Hell: Vol 1

A little dizzy from being suspended in the air for so long, Evan wobbly stood on his legs, then craned his neck to glance back at the hound. It was staring at Evan with those bright crimson eyes, unmoving. At first glance, it was plain terrifying, but upon a closer look, it seemed to be staring at him expectantly. Waiting for…something.

What could a huge, furry beast with three eyes and seven tails possibly want?

After a moment of hesitation, Evan reached a trembling hand up to pat its snout, hoping the action wouldn’t cost him a limb. As his hand made contact with the surprisingly soft snout, the hound’s eyes closed immediately and those seven spiked tails started swishing behind it, wagging excitedly. A rumbling purr stirred from its belly.

Evan was momentarily dumbfounded, then let out a breath.

“I’ve never seen a hound so tamed,” the Reaper said, swinging the whip. It disappeared into a dust of shimmering gold.

Evan turned around. “Thank you, for your help.”

Already over a hundred spirits had been dissipated upon clashing with Evan’s barrier, but the remaining had been fortunate enough to run into the reaper’s whip. Although that wasn’t exactly consoling enough, Evan still felt a tinge of relief.

The spirits were definitely in a better place now than where his exorcist barrier had sent them.

The Reaper chuckled softly. “Just doing our jobs, pal.”

He nudged his non-talkative friend as if waiting for confirmation, but he remained tight-lipped.

As Evan was busy staring between the pair, an explosion made him jump. His head snapped in the direction of the Tomb of Ascension.

The Hellfire crackled, a shrill howl emanating from its depths, a cry of thousands of demons. The flames shrank, reduced to a ball of red. It was the same blazing ball of demonic energy that Xen had summoned from the ground earlier.

It rose from the array, humming with a murderous intent so thick it clogged the air with a sense of foreboding.

“I think your friend might be in trouble,” the Reaper said, voice flat.

Evan stepped back, intending to break into a run but then stopped. “Uh…which friend?”

The Reapers looked at each other, then at Evan. “The evil one.”

With a swift wave of his hand, the pair of dark figures vanished, leaving Evan reeling from that conflicting piece of information.

Evil one? But…whichone?

Aaron was presently possessed by Knox who was undoubtedly evil. But Xen was a demon, the King of Demons, and was inherently a creature of the dark. In short, evil.

Gruu, who stood tall at a distance in his Hellguard form, turned and stomped away, muttering something under his breath.

The hound nudged Evan, urging him into the direction where the explosion had resounded.

Did it matter who was eviler? If either of them was in trouble, Evan had to go anyway. One was his friend and the other…

He turned and dashed out of the clearing, running as if a dog was chasing his tail.

Well, technically it was.

The three-eyed hound caught up to Evan and grabbed him in its spikey maw. It tore through the forest like a wild gale.

Trees blurred past Evan’s vision, wind whipping across his face. In mere seconds, they had crossed over five kilometers, and approached the very edge of the woods that gave way to a cliff. Below the cliff drifted the sacred Del, water shimmering in the moonlight, unperturbed by the violence above.

The hound lowered Evan and he jumped down, swaying only briefly before finding his footing.

Two figures loomed on the edge of the cliff, surrounded by charred trees and foliage, suffocating smoke, and the unmistakable essence of murderous intent.

Xen’s hand was wrapped around Knox’s throat, suspending him a foot off the cracked ground. Knox twisted the golden spear that was jammed into Xen’s chest with a sickening squelch. From the looks of it, Knox was the one severely injured.

But there was something strange about Xen’s expression. His brows were drawn together tight, not in anger, but in something like strained concentration. It didn’t seem like it was directed at Knox.

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