FREE USE in Primitive World

Layer 1. Layer 1. Layer 1, Sol noted with complete detachment.

Except for the lead almost fifteen feet alpha, every single one of these roaring monsters was nothing more than Layer 1 fodder, amplified by their terrifying physical mass and toxic attributes.

The lead hound was slightly denser, carrying the warmer, thicker energy path of a Layer 2 beast.

Even if they all attacked together, they weren’t a threat to him.

But more than anything, they were damn too noisy.

The constant, deafening grinding of their growls was grating against his ears, irritating his mood.

Sol walked straight up to the lead hound, stopping just two steps away from its snapping jaw. The acrid black smoke was washing over the front plates of his Rockhorn carapace, but he didn’t look at the rider

He slowly turned his head and looked directly into the glowing red eyes of the Layer 2 alpha hound.

The lead alpha hound’s growl froze mid-vibration, the sound dying in its throat with a sickening, wet choke. The glowing red light in its eye sockets violently dilated, its pupils shrinking to the size of needle-points.

The primal, genetic instinct embedded deep within the beast’s marrow instantly overrode every single ounce of its brutal training. It didn’t see a human standing in front of it anymore; it registered an absolute, apex predator... a monster that could crush its skull with one hand.

YELP.

A sharp, pathetic whimper tore out of the alpha’s throat.

Its massive six legs gave out completely, buckling under its own weight as it violently slammed its belly into the limestone gravel.

The colossal hound tucked its long, skinless tail tightly between its hind legs, lowering its massive head until its jaw was buried in the dirt, while its whole body shivered like a scolded, terrified puppy.

The sudden shift caused the beast to twist violently to the side, completely throwing off its rider.

The arrogant captain yelped as he lost his balance, flying out and crashing face-first into the hard clay and stones.

The panic spread through the rest of the pack like a rampaging virus. Sensing the absolute, paralyzing terror of their alpha, the other Grave Hounds instantly broke.

Their growls turned into high-pitched, frantic whines and miserable cowering. They twisted their six legs in a desperate scramble to back away from Sol, their massive bodies colliding with one another in a frantic, chaotic retreat.

Because the movement was so sudden and violent, the arrogant Zharun riders were caught completely off guard, as a result, losing their balance and tumbling out of their seatings into the dirt.

The proud Zharun cavalry was turned into a total mess of yelling warriors and whimpering beasts within seconds.

Sol stood perfectly still amidst the dust and the whining, looking down at the unseated captain who was currently pushing himself up from the gravel, his face red with a mix of shock and intense shame.

The clearing had fallen into a sudden, pin-drop silence, the roaring wall of sound replaced by nothing but the pathetic shivering of the beasts.

Sol shot his gaze straight back at the Grave Hound riders, his voice cutting through the quiet valley like a dull iron saw cutting through bone.

”Here,” Sol said, his tone casual, flat, and chillingly rough. ”I have quieted them down for you.”

He took a slow step forward, his massive black shadow completely covering the unseated captain on the ground.

”If you can’t even control them properly” Sol continued, his silver-crimson eyes locking onto the captain’s face, ”then don’t roam around with them in my sight. A beast that forgets who the master is, isn’t an asset... it’s just a beast waiting to tear you apart.”

”Keep your reins tight, captain. Lest... one day, these dogs look up, realize how soft and fragile your own meat is, and they end up eating you.”

The words carried an implicit, terrifying double-meaning. Sol wasn’t just talking about the hounds; he was explicitly telling them that he saw through their little games, and that if they tried to do anything funny mid-battle, they would be the ones devoured and ground into the mud.

For a long, suffocating second, nobody breathed.

The Zharun warriors along the main column froze, their hands locking onto their spear-shafts as they stared at the black reaper who had just broken their elite cavalry unit with nothing but a single glance.

The Veynar veterans up on the lower trails watched with wide, fierce eyes, their hearts thumping with a savage pride as they saw the arrogant marsh tribe put firmly in their place.

Then, Sol suddenly laughed, breaking the heavy tension.

”Haha, I was joking,” Sol said, waving his hand casually as he turned around. ”We’re all allies under the Pact today. No need to look so serious.”

The captain scrambled back to his feet, his jaw twitching with anger as he wiped the dirt off his leather armor. He didn’t say anything back, his hands shaking as he grabbed his hound’s ropes and forced it to stand.

The reaction of the beasts was simple. Sol had killed and absorbed so many powerful enemies that his body naturally carried a thick, heavy aura of death.

To the primitive beasts of the Great Orrath, who lived every single second of their lives surrounded by the absolute law of survival, that leaked aura was a visible beacon of pure destruction.

Dogs, no matter how massive, skinless, or ugly they were, were still just dogs at the end of the day.

They possessed a genetic coding that forced them to terrorize the weak and crawl before the absolute strong.

Sol was definitely not weak, and the alpha hound had recognized that truth before its riders’ brains could even process it.

Sol didn’t care much about their fear or their wounded pride. He had a deployment to finish.

”The Grave Hound riders will be stationed far away from the main infantry blocks,” Sol commanded flatly. ”Move them deep into the tall weeping reeds at the far edge.”

The Zharun captains immediately frowned, looking at each other in confusion. One of Vane’s senior warriors stepped forward. ”What? That makes no sense! The hounds are our main strength. They’re supposed to rush forward to attack the enemy, when the clash starts.

Keeping them tucked away in the reeds means they won’t be able to attack when the clash begins!”

A.N:

Guys, it’s the last day of the month and honestly, this month didn’t go very well.

We received less than half of the subscriptions we received last month, including gifts too.

So, if you have some extra coins lying around, I would greatly appreciate if you toss a few to this poor author’s way.

*crying emoji* I still have to repay massive medical debt, I incurred last time I was hospitalized.

Thank you in advance.