FREE USE in Primitive World

Every single trace of lifelong conditioning, every thread of childhood affection, and every remnant of human bonding inside the hounds’ brains was mercilessly incinerated beneath the absolute, cosmic authority of Sol’s Free Use power.

Their eyes no longer rolled in confusion. Their pupils turned white at first, then hearing the direct command from Sol to slaughter their riders, they contracted into razor-thin vertical slits, turning a deep, unnatural, and terrifying neon-red.

The thrashing stopped.

The whimpering ceased.

An absolute, chilling silence fell over the Zharun Hound Riders as all eighty Blood Hounds stood completely rigid in the white dust.

Their elongated snouts dropped low to the ground, dark purple foam dripping continuously from their exposed rows of needle-sharp teeth.

A Zharun rider, his knee bruised from being thrown, slowly reached out his hand toward his bonded mount’s snout.

”Get back on your mounts! Re-form the line!” the thrown Zharun cavalry leader yelled, scrambling to his feet and reaching for his Alpha Hound’s reins. ”What’s wrong with you—

On the other hand, ”G-Garm...?” the rider from earlier rider stammered, his voice trembling as he looked into his hound’s cold, black eyes. ”Good boy... ”I don’t know what came over you, it’s me. You know me, right? We grew up in the same—”

But unfortunately both of them never finished the sentence.

The Alpha Blood Hound turned its massive, hairless head. Its six limbs lunged forward with blinding, terrifying speed. Its massive, bone-crushing jaw opened wide, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth, and clamped down directly over the Cavalry leader’s head and neck.

CRUNCH!

A sickening, wet pop echoed across the battlefield. The leader’s body twitched once, his hands clawing uselessly at the beast’s crimson hide, before his head was completely severed from his shoulders.

The Alpha threw its head back, swallowing the bloody mass whole with a wet, ghastly gulp.

CRUNCH!

Without a single growl, warning, or hesitation, the Blood Hound named Gram also lunged forward with terrifying speed.

Its massive jaws opened wide and clamped down directly over the rider’s upper torso, snapping his neck and crushing his chest cavity in a single, sickening bite.

”AAAGGGHHH!”

A horrific, collective shriek of agonizing terror exploded across the Hound rider’s ranks.

”NO! GRAM! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” a nearby rider shrieked in absolute horror.

Before the rider could draw his sidearm, his own bonded mount... the beast he had fed, groomed, and slept beside since childhood... swiveled its head backward with terrifying, twitching motions. The beast opened its jaws and bit its rider cleanly across the waist.

RIP! SQUELCH!

”AAAGHH! MY LEGS! IT’S EATING ME! MY OWN BEAST IS EATING ME!”

Horrific, soul-shredding screams erupted across the entire northern flank. All eighty Blood Hounds went entirely, ruthlessly rabid. The very beasts these men had raised, fed, and fought alongside for decades became their brutal, pitiless executioners.

RIP! SQUELCH! CRUNCH!

”No!! STOP! IT’S ME—AAAAGH!”

”MY ARM! MY ARM! HELP ME!”

”CHIEF! SAVE US! THE MOUNTS HAVE GONE MAD!”

The Zharun cavalrymen, caught entirely off guard on the ground without their mounts, were slaughtered in a gruesome displays of raw, primal gore.

Blood Hounds pounced on their thrown riders, using their six powerful limbs to pin the armored men to the limestone slate before tearing their throats out with bone-crushing bites.

One rider was pulled in two opposite directions by his own mount and a second hound, his screams cut short as his body was torn completely in half, spilling his entrails across the white stones.

The Coalition warriors standing nearby stared at the horrific scene, their faces draining of all color.

”T-They’re eating them...” a Zharun spearman whispered in horror. ”They’re eating their own riders!”

The surrounding Coalition warriors... Zerith stalkers and Gray Marauder infantry who were preparing to follow the cavalry charge... watched the horrific display in complete, petrified terror.

”They’re... they’re eating their own riders!” a Zerith officer shrieked, his voice cracking into a high-pitched scream of sheer panic. ”The beasts have lost their minds! Fall back! Fall back!”

”They’re insane! Kill the dogs!” a Marauder captain shouted, trying to raise his axe.

...

The slaughter of the riders was only the beginning.

Before the Coalition soldiers could even form a defensive line, standing amidst the carnage, his hand still extended, his neon-crimson eyes blazing with absolute, tyrannical control over the beasts.

Sol’s mental command shifted.

Targeting: Coalition warriors.Command: SLAUGHTER EVERYTHING THAT BREATHES.

”AWOOOOOOO!”

The eighty Blood Hounds, their muzzles drenched in the fresh, warm blood and shredded remains of their former masters, raised their massive heads to the sky and let out a collective, bone-chilling howl of pure destruction.

Driven by the absolute command of Sol’s Free Use power, the pack turned as one single, terrifying hive-mind entity toward the dense ranks of the Coalition army.

BOOM!

The eighty beasts charged. Six muscular limbs per hound tore into the limestone bedrock, launching their massive, warhorse-sized bodies forward like a wave of crimson meteors.

”FORM A SPEAR WALL! FORM A WALL—” a Marauder tried to scream, but his order was instantly swallowed by the tide.

CRASH!

The impact of eighty heavy, six-legged war-beasts slamming into the Coalition’s flank was akin to a mountain collapsing onto an enemy line. The front ranks of the Zerith stalkers and Gray Marauders were utterly pulverized.

The raw, physical dominance of the hounds... unhinged from any fear of pain or death... tore through the enemy formations like a meat grinder running at full speed.

”Help me! The hounds are tearing us apart!”

”Chief Vane! Grand Chief! Save us!”

The Blood Hounds fought with pure, unadulterated, rabid savagery.

They leaped over any obstructions landing directly in the middle of dense troop clusters.

Their six limbs allowed them to tackle multiple men at once, pinning warriors to the ground while their rows of needle-sharp teeth tore through throats, shoulders, and chest armor.

”GET THEM OFF ME! GET THEM OFF!”

”FIRE THE SPEARS! KILL THE BEASTS!”

”THEY’RE NOT STOPPING! THEY DON’T FEEL PAIN!”

Chaos, absolute and unbridled, erupted across the Coalition’s entire northern and eastern lines. The very force that was meant to be the Zharun tribe’s ultimate trump card... the terrifying Blood Hound Cavalry... had been turned into a self-propelled, unstoppable meat grinder that was rapidly chewing through the Coalition’s numerical advantage.

Coalition warriors panicked, breaking rank and fleeing in every direction, wildly swinging their weapons at both the rabid hounds and each other in the blinding cloud of limestone dust.

The tight, suffocating perimeter that had held the Veynar loyalists trapped was breaking.