Chương 3: The Last Hound

Golden light settled into place more smoothly than it had the first time, the spear's translucent shaft extending from the iron point in a stream of warm radiance. Thomas still had to adjust his grip when the weapon's weight arrived, but it no longer caught him entirely by surprise. He held it across his body and looked toward the dark corridor beyond the visitor centre.

"Wait," Chloe said. Thomas glanced back. She held the emergency torch in one hand and dug through the cupboards beneath the front desk with the other.

"People are shouting," Thomas said, nodding toward the hall.

"I know, but we just gained a level, and with it, some of these spendable stat points." Thomas had almost dismissed the notification without thinking about what it meant. The System had increased his assigned attributes and given him another five unassigned points. When he turned his attention inward, his status came readily enough. For the first time, those points felt like a choice with consequences. The System's automatic upgrades were entirely lopsided.

His mental traits had all ticked upward, but his physical stats hadn't budged a single point. He was a more potent Historical Summoner on paper, but in reality, he was still trapped in a body with a measly eight Strength and seven Agility. But now, ten points waited unassigned. Thomas looked down at the spear.

"I'm not sure this is the best time to experiment."

"You nearly died because you couldn't push that thing through the creature's ribs."

"We pushed it through."

"Together. While it was lying on top of you."

"That's still technically a success."

"It tried to bite your face off." Thomas touched the shallow line along his cheek. The skin came away wet with blood. Chloe abandoned the cupboard and faced him fully.

"So, we should spend some of these unassigned attributes. How many free points do you have?"

"Ten." Her expression sharpened.

"Ten?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I only have eight." Thomas glanced at her.

"So you already spent some?"

"No, I only have the eight." Chloe looked briefly offended by the question, then immediately unsettled again.

"I received four when I chose my class and another four when we levelled. You received five each time?"

"Apparently."

"Why?"

"I have no idea."

"Is it because you had four choices?"

"Possibly."

"That's not an answer."

"It is the only one I have Chlo. We need to get moving again." Chloe stared at him for another second, clearly wanting to stop and compare every detail of their classes. A distant growl reminded her that the apocalypse had provided an inconvenient research environment.

"Fine. We can work out why your numbers are different later. What is your Strength?"

"Eight."

"Put some there. That's less than I have."

"We don't know what the numbers mean."

"We've figured out eight was not enough." That was difficult to dispute. Ten free points sounded high, but he did not know how quickly he would gain more, what the upper limits of stats were, or if mistakes could be reversed. He did not think any redos were allowed. His class had already committed him to the three mental attributes every time he levelled, but didn't freely provide anything for his physical stats. The unspent points were also entirely useless while amassed.

"How many?" he asked. Chloe looked him over with the focused concentration of someone assessing a damaged piece of furniture or appliance.

"Three into Strength. You need enough to stab something, not to lift the whole castle."

"And the rest?"

"One into whatever stat helps you stop waving that spear around like a curtain pole."

"Agility?"

"Sure, throw one into Agility, then. You can save the others until we understand more, if that makes you feel better." Thomas directed three points toward Strength and one toward Agility. For a fraction of a second, nothing happened. Then his body forgot how to operate. Every muscle contracted at once. His shoulders locked, his fingers clenched around the spear, and his knees nearly folded beneath him. The visitor centre lurched to one side, even as the floor remained perfectly still.

Thomas's breath caught somewhere between his chest and throat as his sense of where his limbs belonged shifted by several uncomfortable degrees. Chloe caught his arm before he fell, and the sensation passed almost as soon as it began. Thomas remained upright, breathing hard. Heat moved through his muscles in brief, prickling waves. His heartbeat changed beneath the sensation, and the rest of him felt subtly rearranged around that new rhythm.

"That looked unpleasant," Chloe said.

"It didn't last very long."

"That's not what I said." Thomas straightened carefully. The spear no longer seemed quite so heavy. Its weight had not changed, but his arms supported it without the same strain through his shoulders. When he shifted his grip, the movement came with less hesitation. The points had made his body slightly easier to control.

"Better?" Chloe asked.

"I think so."

"Excellent. Let's try not to assign any while something is biting; that sounds like a recipe for disaster. Give me a second to spend some too." While she recovered, he reviewed his status once again. Six points remained unspent. Thomas left them that way, aware that every delay made the choice harder. Another gunshot cracked through the castle. The sound came from somewhere beyond the exhibition hall, followed almost immediately by a heavy impact and the splintering of wood.

Chloe switched on the torch, and its beam cut a narrow path through the dark.

"Ready?" she asked.

"No, I'm really not."

"Neither am I." The honesty was a relief. The moment seemed to cut through the instinct to pretend or lie otherwise. They weren't soldiers, and the sudden appearance of magic and monsters wouldn't turn them into one overnight. Thomas took a slow, deliberate breath, pausing to tighten his grip on the spear and letting the steady thrum of mana anchor his nerves. Staying here could mean letting whoever fired that gun bleed out alone in the dark. He wasn't ready, but he needed to move anyway.

The corridor beyond the visitor centre seemed narrower than Thomas remembered. Any remaining emergency lights cast weak red pools across the floor, leaving long stretches of darkness between them. Chloe swept the torch slowly from side to side, pausing whenever the beam caught on a doorway or the edge of a display. Thomas moved ahead of her with the spear lowered. The golden light surrounding the weapon helped, although not as much as he would have liked.

It illuminated his hands, the floor immediately around him, and the nearest portions of the walls. Beyond that, the darkness remained dense enough to conceal almost anything. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The castle smelled wrong. The smell of dust and old stone felt familiar. So did the polish, damp wood, and a faint stale scent left behind by hundreds of visitors moving through enclosed rooms.

Beneath it all lay blood, burnt metal, and the damp-earth smell that clung to the barghests. They passed the entrance to a small exhibit. The door had been torn inward, and the air reeked of spilt blood. Thomas angled the spear toward it while Chloe's torch moved across the interior. A shattered display lay against the far wall. Something dark stained the floor beside it, but there was no movement.

"Keep going," Chloe whispered. A second gunshot rang out ahead of them. This one was followed by a man shouting, not in fear but with the sharp authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

"Move!" Something answered with a roar. Thomas ran. His increased Strength announced itself through how easy movement seemed now. The spear did not drag against his pace. His injured shoulder still hurt, and his side pulled unpleasantly where the claw had cut him, but the weapon remained as level as it could while he moved. Chloe followed close behind, the torch beam bouncing across walls and floor. They rounded a corner into a larger exhibition chamber. The room had been torn apart.

An overturned display case divided the space, and broken wood and glass covered the floor. A broad patch of darkness writhed near the far wall as a barghest circled a man holding a pistol with both hands. Two other men lay nearby. One had collapsed beside the overturned case, his chest opened by four deep parallel wounds. The other was closer to the wall, bent at an angle that made Thomas look away almost as soon as he understood it. The man standing wore a dark jacket over a close-fitting shirt.

He was perhaps in his thirties, broad through the shoulders, with short hair and blood running from a cut above one eyebrow. Three brass casings lay near his feet. A barghest core rested several yards away, its dim blue light visible beneath a broken bench. He had already killed one. As the surviving creature lunged, the man fired twice. The first bullet entered the beast's flank and tore out a spray of black blood. Striking the ridge of its shoulder, the second shot made a harder, flatter sound.

Although the creature twisted from the impact, the bone beneath did not break. Instead, the round buried itself somewhere in the muscle or flattened against the magically reinforced structure below. With a heavy thud, the creature landed against the overturned case and immediately pushed away again. Fast—too fast for the man to place a careful shot. Thomas lowered his spear and charged toward it, but the beast heard him coming. The beast turned, its hollow sockets tracking the golden glare.

A sudden, rigid shift ran through its stance—weight dropping back, shoulders locking as it keyed into the weapon. It had never seen Thomas before, but it knew the spear. Perhaps it smelled its packmate's death on the light, or perhaps the barghests shared some deeper instinct Thomas couldn't parse. Whatever the reason, it abandoned the armed man and came toward him. Thomas had enough time to regret everything. His stomach dropped, but he drove himself forward anyway. He planted his rear foot and thrust.

The creature veered aside. Thomas tried to follow its movement, but his hands lagged behind his eyes. The spearhead passed through the smoke curling from its shoulder and found nothing solid beneath. The beast struck the shaft with one foreleg. His increased Strength kept the weapon in his hands, but it did not keep him standing. He stumbled into the remains of a display stand as the creature landed beside him, its jaws open. A gunshot struck through the side of its neck.

The bullet penetrated flesh but stopped when it clipped the spine. The barghest flinched, giving Thomas enough time to drag the spear between them and stand again.

"Lights!" he shouted.

"I know!" Chloe had stopped just inside the room. She held the torch in both hands, staring at it with fierce concentration. The barghest knocked the spear aside and moved toward Thomas again. The man with the pistol shifted to get a clear line, but Thomas was between them. Chloe's thumb moved along the torch casing. Thin lines appeared across the plastic— an outline of the components beneath.

Thomas could not see them clearly from where he stood, only the way her attention followed invisible connections from the battery compartment toward the bulb. The barghest advanced, and Thomas retreated around the broken display, keeping the spearhead between them. His heel caught a length of timber. He recovered before falling, the single point of Agility proving its worth when he otherwise would have ended up on the floor.

"Whatever you are doing, now would be excellent." Thomas kept his eyes locked on the beast, refusing to look away.

"I can overload it, but it'll destroy the torch."

"Do it!" Chloe twisted the end cap sharply and pressed her palm against the torch's body. The casing creaked and started to crack. The beam weakened to a dull yellow line. For one dreadful second, Thomas thought she had broken it without accomplishing anything else. Then the torch screamed. The sound was electrical, a rising whine from the bulb and battery together. Chloe turned her face away and thrust the light toward the beast. White brilliance filled the room, and Thomas saw the creature with perfect clarity.

The darkness surrounding its body tore apart. Black vapour streamed from its fur in all directions, exposing the gaunt grey shape beneath. Its empty eyes became recessed cavities in a skull-like face. The cracks beneath its skin glowed faintly blue. The barghest recoiled and screamed as the bulb burst. Chloe dropped the dead torch as smoke poured from its casing. Thomas moved before the room went dark again. He drove forward with both hands spaced properly along the shaft this time.

The barghest tried to twist away, but it had not yet recovered from the burst of light. The spearhead entered low behind its front leg, finding the soft gap between shoulder and ribs. The difference in Strength was immediate. The point passed through hide and muscle without the desperate, grinding resistance of his first attack. The weapon sank several inches before it struck bone and stopped. The barghest howled and turned upon him. Thomas stepped sideways, dragging the spear with him.

The movement widened the wound and forced the creature's front half around. Its head swung toward Thomas, jaws opening, but the lodged spear prevented it from bringing its full weight to bear. Thomas pushed. The spearhead could not break through the rib beneath it. Even with his improved Strength, the magically reinforced bone might as well have been iron. He could only hold the point where it was and use the shaft as leverage. The monster snapped at his hands, and Thomas leaned away, arms shaking.

"Now!" he shouted. The man with the pistol had already moved. He stepped around the overturned case, closing the distance rather than risking another shot across the room. The hound saw him too late. Thomas's spear had pulled its body sideways and exposed the left side of its head. The pistol rose. For the briefest instant, the creature's empty eye reflected golden light, and the man fired.

The bullet passed through the eye socket cleanly, and the back of its head split open in a burst of black fluid and blue-white vapour. Its body convulsed around the spear, jaws closing hard enough to crack its teeth against one another. Thomas held on until the creature stopped moving. Silence filled the room, broken only by everyone's breathing and the faint hiss of Chloe's ruined torch. Unmoving, the man kept the pistol trained on the animal.

"Is it dead?" Thomas looked at the body.

"I've been asked that before."

"What? You okay, kid?"

"I think so." Suddenly, the creature's foreleg twitched, causing the pistol to shift slightly. Smoke began to rise from the body in long strands around the spearhead. Its weight collapsed inward as flesh and bone dissolved into dark vapour. The damage left by the bullets vanished as the black blood evaporated from the room. Within seconds, the summoned spear stood unsupported in empty air. As Thomas lowered it, the beast's core struck the floor with a small, hard click. Chloe immediately moved toward it.

The armed man stepped between them.

"Leave it." Chloe stopped.

"It's the only part of the creature that remained."

"I can see that."

"The other one produced the same thing."

"I can also see that." Thomas looked toward the first core near the bench. Apparently, Chloe had noticed it the moment they entered the room, despite the active monster and two dead men. At times, her powers of observation bordered on professional misconduct. The man lowered his pistol, though he did not put it away. Up close, Thomas saw exhaustion beneath the controlled expression. His breathing stayed steady only because he forced it.

The cut above his eye had begun to clot, but blood covered one hand and much of his sleeve. He looked toward the two bodies and his control slipped for less than a second. Following his gaze, Thomas immediately wished he had not. Nearest the display case, a man had tried to hold his chest closed with both hands, but the effort had failed. As for the other body, death had come brutally enough that identifying the exact wound no longer seemed useful. The armed man looked back at Thomas.

"You killed another one?"

"With Chloe."

"I'm assuming you used that magic stick you have?"

"Yes. Light seems to bother them." The man's attention moved to the translucent weapon, taking in the golden reconstruction of the medieval spear.

"What is it?"

"As you said, looks like magic."

"It's a class ability," Chloe said, stepping out from behind Thomas. She wasn't looking at the spear, but directly at the armed man. Her eyes darted from his steady, two-handed grip to the tight grouping of bullet holes in the dead barghest.

"Just like your aim." The man's expression did not change.

"I already knew how to shoot."

"Not like that. Not in the dark, against something moving that fast, right?" Chloe crossed her arms, completely unintimidated by the weapon.

"The System gave everyone three class choices to pick from. You chose something combat-focused. Marksman? Soldier?" The man's eyes narrowed, assessing her differently now.

"Sure, kid. Something like that."

"Good. Then you understand the rules have changed for some reason." She nodded toward the pulsing black core in his hand.

"We helped you kill this one. We need to figure out what they dropped." Thomas pressed his left hand firmly against his ribs, feeling the sticky warmth filter through his shirt at the place where the beast had scratched him; each breath seemed as if he were drawing in ground glass shards, which was, in fact, the only reason why he wasn't physically pulling Chloe backwards by her hood. He looked in horror at the back of her head as she was discussing the rights to the loot with a man who had a loaded gun.

Before he could answer, a door on the far side of the exhibition room crashed open. A broad man in muddy work boots rushed through, carrying half of a broken wooden bench like a club. A woman with greying hair followed, holding a brass fire poker in both hands. The man raised his makeshift club.

"Where is it?" He stopped. Dark smoke still drifted above the floor where the barghest had died. Thomas stood in the centre of it with a glowing spear in his hands. The armed man remained beside the bodies with his pistol lowered, while Chloe was crouching toward a pulsing black core. As the newcomers stared at the three of them, the woman went pale, seeing the dead men.

"What happened?" she asked. No one answered immediately, and Thomas released Summon Echo. The spear folded into golden light and streamed back toward him. The sudden disappearance drew both newcomers' attention, though neither seemed prepared to ask about it yet. The military man bent and retrieved the newly fallen core before Chloe could.

"Are there any more?" No growl answered from the corridors. No claws moved across stone. The castle remained filled with distant creaks, failing electricity, and the soft movement of survivors. Thomas thought of the barghest from the basement, the one this man had already killed, and the creature that had dissolved at their feet.

"Not that I know of," Thomas said. Everyone seemed to look around briefly, as if examining the shadows for more hidden monsters. No one got the reassurance they wanted.