During Lilac’s struggles against Gurlon, Rhynsa, Arnulfe, and Mizarka continued their travel through Tragoria, trying to either regroup with the group they were supposed to protect or at least find anyone that could help them against the demons. However, it wasn’t helped by the fact that the region itself became a hostile wasteland as the days went on.

Demons and their hellhound servants prowled the land, hunting anyone who were unfortunate enough to cross their paths. The trio fought the demons as best they could, mostly since the demons were lesser demons. They were fortunate that the bat demon was the only demon dangerous enough to cross their paths. The rest were easily fallen by Rhynsa’s bullets and Mizarka’s crescent sword.

As the days went on, Rhynsa recovered from his traumatic ordeal and found that he enjoyed Mizarka and Arnulfe’s company. Before, he might scoff at them and tried his best to stay away, citing that he would be better working alone. Now, after the two comforted him, he realized that he was wrong. Maybe the two could help fill the void in his heart after his desire for vengeance was gone. Or maybe they could be the dependable friends that he once did not care, but now desired for?

Nevertheless, it was clear that he worked very well with them. Mizarka and Arnulfe worked as the close combat specialists with Mizarka’s sword skills and Arnulfe’s beast-like fighting style, while Rhynsa supported them from a sniping spot, reducing the enemies to manageable levels. He also knew how to defend himself, with Arnulfe sometimes falling back to support him if there was an ambush and he was caught in it. It was like they had always been working together from the start despite of only meeting with each other a week ago.

But despite of their teamwork and newfound friendship, the three also shared similar worries on the situation on Tragoria, namely the deteriorating condition and the unhealthy air. Smog filled the air, making each of their lungs stuffy and made breathing a labor. Flying above the smoke did not help, and even when Rhynsa and Arnulfe did, all they could see was a burning countryside and reddish light caused by the smoke filtering the sunlight.

Fortunately, however, they found that their journey had a clear end.

The three were once again attacked by hostiles during their walk along the border. Like usual, they did the same strategy they usually did: Mizarka and Arnulfe the close-combat fighters, while Rhynsa supported them with his rifle. However, just as they were going to engage their enemies, something unexpected happened.

They heard a howl from the forest near the village where they encountered the enemy group. Their enemies then became surprised, with one clearly exclaiming, “(Shit! Not again!)”

Rhynsa and Arnulfe, both capable of finding the specific source of noise, used their echo sense to find the source of the howl, only to find that there were more than just a howl. At least a dozen hellhounds were hiding in the forest when they heard the howl. It was a signal to attack, and they did. The hostile hellhounds tried to defend themselves, but they were quickly pushed back by the ambushers, mostly due to their use of guerilla tactics and disorientation using cherry bombs and smoke. Only the Fuzandres could see what was going on in the smoke.

Before long, the hellhounds retreated. Arnulfe and Mizarka were left in the open when the smoke cleared. Unfortunately, the two quickly became the new targets for the ambushers. Rhynsa was ready to shoot them from his position when one of them stopped upon seeing Mizarka.

“(A Death’s Jackal? On the surface?)” said the lead hellhound, bewildered. She turned to Arnulfe and similarly bewildered, said, “(And a Fuzandre?)”

“(You got a problem with that?)” asked Arnulfe.

“(Only if you strike first),” said another. “(Which I believe won’t be the case).”

“(Are you friend or foe, then?)” asked Mizarka, still cautious.

“(It depends. Who do you work for?)”

Arnulfe and Mizarka looked at each other and, remembering what Rhynsa told them, said, “(Anarim Winsel of Summinat).”

The hellhounds all nodded and talked among themselves before they sheathed their weapons. Mizarka did so with hers.

“(Oh, thank the maker! We have asked for their help ever since the whole region turned to hell. We know he’s based in Summinat, but we have no way to contact him. We don’t even know how to operate the freaking telephone or what the hell the surface dwellers called it!)”

Rhynsa, still cautious, yet believing their reaction, climbed of his sniping spot, causing the others to become alert. He quickly raised both of his hands.

“(Calm down),” he said. “(I’m with them. How did you contact the old hound anyway?)”

“(We sent a runner),” said one of them. “(Didn’t think you’d respond that quickly).”

“(You’re just lucky we happened to be around. And we’re lucky, too. Is there a good place to talk? Preferably away from this place?)”

The lead hellhound beckoned them to follow her, along with the rest of the group. As they walked, Rhynsa leaned towards both Mizarka and Arnulfe and said, “(If they act fishy, don’t hesitate to run. Don’t engage them).”

They both nodded, knowing that they could be lying and were trying to make the three lower their guards. They had not met anyone trustworthy enough, after all, and Tragoria had become a place where that was cultivated.

It wasn’t until they reached the base of the hellhound group that they could finally relax, and that happened after 2 hours of walking.

The hellhounds were based in a small town called Tynt, which was already turned into a fortified town with barricades and such. The barricades were made from cars and horse carriages, along with several other materials such as sharpened wood, rocks, and sandbags. The thing that made the three felt sure they were safe was the fact that there were more than just hellhounds. Lycans and humans worked alongside hellhounds to ensure the place was fortified.

However, it was clear to Rhynsa that it wasn’t a good place to defend. There were too many open areas that the Fuzandre could point, mostly opening into the thick forest the town was surrounded with. While the open roads were barricaded, there seemed to be no effort in barricading the forest. Also, if the demons were involved, they would surely burn down the whole forest just to take them out, which could potentially be a death trap for everyone involved. He could see a small pathway through the forest, but he was sure that it could be too dangerous to traverse when the forest was burning.

Rhynsa pondered about the situation, the lead hellhound he met earlier approached him and said, “(You said you wanna talk about something. What do you need?)”

“(Assurance),” said Rhynsa. “(I can tell you’re trustworthy, but even that can be faked. I’m not the kind of Fuzandre who takes someone on face value).”

“(There’s nothing I can provide you other than our children and the surface dwellers we helped),” said the hellhound. “(If you said we coerced them, you’re wrong. Ask anyone. I’m sure they can’t understand what we’re saying. I have given my word. I suggest you do the same if we really wish to trust each other).”

Rhynsa let out a smile. “(Kinda hard to trust two Fuzandres and a Death’s Jackal, huh?)”

“(I can trust anyone other than hellhounds, that’s for sure),” said the hellhound, who also smiled back. “(I’m Asrati. And you are?)”

“(Rhynsa).” The Fuzandre held out one of his hands, which was accepted by Asrati. “(The gray one’s Arnulfe, and the Jackal’s Mizarka).”

The two decided to walk through town while observing the activities of the townspeople and the hellhounds. Like Summinat, Tynt was a very inclusive town, though not in a way similar to the bigger town. The people were drawn together by circumstances, knowing that distrusting each other would only make survival harder, not to mention endangering the children from both sides. Like the group that Mizarka led, the hellhounds had children accompanying them. Rhynsa had not seen so many hellhound families during his own journey, though it was due to him frequenting seedy towns where children would not be able to live comfortably. Even if there were, the hellhound cubs were miserable.

Asrati trying to contact Anarim could be due to this. They needed a safe place for the hellhound children to live in, far from the now unstable region. Even then, Rhynsa wondered if she underestimated the long journey there.

“(Have you considered that Summinat might be too far on foot?)” asked Rhynsa. “(Even flying took me a couple of days. Also, the surface dwellers might not as friendly as these ones).”

“(Which is why we are planning to leave as soon as possible),” said Asrati.

“(Why not leave earlier, then? Worried that you might get lost? Still waiting for someone?)”

“(Mostly the first reason, but also because we want to repay the favor).”

“(Favor?)”

“(The people of this town helped us despite their mistrust. They were convinced by the werefox tribe living in the forest and also the children who traveled alongside us. So, in return of them helping us, we want to help defend them, and possibly coordinate a forward base to fight against the incursion. You get what I mean, right?)”

“(That’s noble, but also impossible. The demons are the problems. If they are serious, they can wipe all of you out in an instant. I have seen what one of them is capable of. I don’t want to experience all that again).”

“(You and me both).”

“(Got a close call, too, huh?)”

“(Too close. We’re lucky those demons have their own grudges against each other. If it wasn’t for that demon, we might end up like the demons he massacred).”

“(Did I hear that right? Massacre?)”

“(Yeah. Hellhounds and demons. It’s a blood bath near the Crossing Gate we came through. I wish this happen all the time, but don’t bet on it. Better stay out of their attention).” Asrati paused for a moment, as if contemplating what to say next. After a while, she said, “(Rhynsa).”

“(You want me to do something before you can join us. Yeah, sure. What’s on your mind)?”

“(We need a fortifiable base, presumably somewhere we can safely conduct operations and maintain contact with allies. This town is built among trees, but it is not exactly a good place for a base. Also, I need someone who can help us communicate with the surface dwellers of our intentions. We need them to trust us).”

“(I can do that),” said Rhynsa. “(Been living up here long enough to speak their language).”

There was a smile on Asrati’s canine face. “(I can’t believe luck’s on our side after evading us for so long).”

“(Yeah, well, don’t assume that’ll last. In any case, if you need a better place as a base, I need a map and someone from the surface. Of course, that is, after I convinced them that you’re working for the best of their interest. Right?)”

“(Right? What’s that supposed to mean?)”

“(Nothing, really. Just to be sure that this won’t be something that I’ll regret).”

Asrati shook her head while sighing, prompting Rhynsa to say, “(Hey, come on. I’m just joking).”

“(Sounds like you’re threatening us).”

“(I just sound like that. Besides, the women like it).”

Asrati did not expect Rhynsa to make such a joke. This caused her to snort. Even Rhynsa was surprised that he could joke. He thought he was just being sarcastic.

“(Anyway),” said Asrati after clearing her throat. “(There is no better time than now. Come).”

Rhynsa followed Asrati through the town, during which he noticed people, both Underworlders and surface dwellers, were staring at Arnulfe. For a Fuzandre, he was very unusual, after all. What made Rhynsa amused was the fact that Arnulfe reveled on the attention, even if he had no idea what the surface dwellers were saying. Luckily for him, they only thought he was being funny, and not mocking him. Arnulfe would not appreciate that.

It wasn’t long before Asrati stopped near a public house, in which several humans and Lycans, along with werefoxes, were gathered. They greeted Asrati, though it was clear that they did not expect her to understand what they were saying. Asrati understood their gestures, however, and smiled, hoping that it was the appropriate response.

Yet, it was inevitable that all eyes quickly turned to Rhynsa, the only one who wasn’t a canine even if he had a resemblance to one. It did not bother him that much, though he expected a more violent response. Even he knew how Tragorians were very averse against anything that wasn’t human or Lycans.

Asrati stopped in front of an old man, who seemed to be in his 60s. She tried explaining to him about Rhynsa with the most broken Tragorian the Fuzandre had ever heard. The old man seemed to understand, even if Asrati could only say the words ‘he’, ‘help’, and ‘good’. After she said that, the old man looked at Rhynsa, staring at him as Rhynsa flapped his wings. He started to feel uncomfortable.

“You’re quite a looker, aren’t you?” said the old man. He had an accent that was rather regional compared to the ones Rhynsa was used to, specifically Lilac. “Don’t see werebats up here ‘fore.”

“We’re naturally shy,” said Rhynsa. This caused the other surface dwellers to let out an ‘ooh’.

“And speak our language, too,” said the old man. “Made to be their translator, are ya? Not too bad. Better, even.”

“I’ve been up here far longer than any hellhounds you might know,” said Rhynsa. “Tell me, sir. Are you bothered by them? They don’t understand you, so they might not even realize that they’re unwelcome.”

“Unwelcome how? Their children are rowdy, but they kept in line,” said the old man with a chuckle. “We owed them our lives. Yes, we do.”

“They saved you from the demons?”

“They know how to bring the fight to ‘em. Quite a sight, it was. I know fearless when I see one. Ah, but let’s stop there. You want something from us?”

“Only a map, and probably someone who can point me where we can set up a base in Tragoria,” said Rhynsa. “They consider this town to be indefensible when things go bad. You agree?”

“Aye,” said the old man with a sigh. “Tynt’s a stop for motorists, not a fortress.” He then turned to a younger man. “Pete, fetch the bat a region map, will you? There’s a good lad.”

“I prefer to be called a Fuzandre, sir,” said Rhynsa.

“Yer a bat. Don’t give me complicated names. I’m not insulting you, y’know?”

“How can you tell, then?”

“I’m still alive, am I? I don’t get me throat ripped off. Anslett’s full of Lycans, and you can bet me years they don’t act docile like the ones in the countries. The humans aren’t a bit scared of them, and they don’t make laws segregating them. What is this, 1851?”

“I guess so,” said Rhynsa.

“Ah, but that’s not the point of our conversation, innit?” The young man from earlier arrived with a rolled-up map and promptly opened it for everyone to look at. Asrati was standing on the side when he opened the map.

“Thanks, Pete.” The old man scanned the map and said, “What kind of fortress you’re thinking about?”

“Someplace where we can route any invaders and call for help when things go south,” said Rhynsa. “Preferably somewhere close the other regions.”

“Hmmm….”

The group were pondering when Pete, the young man who helped with the map, said, “How about Angbor? It’s hilly.”

“Too antiquated, I’m afraid. I’ve been there before,” said a Lycan beside the old man. “No telephone lines go up that far. Besides, they don’t appreciate us without our human forms.”

“Aye, that’s a problem.” The old man then turned to the sea and said, “Angla? No, too small.”

“Isn’t that the place where the Blackjack is? You know, the ocean-faring ship that made history?” asked a teenaged boy.

“Yes, it is, laddie. Unfortunately, it’s too small and too far from the region borders. If we want a good place, I suggest Cardogg.”

“Cardogg?”

The old man pointed towards a town that was bigger than Tynt, but not as big as a city. Rhynsa noticed that it was also situated near a peninsula, with parts of the town being bordered with Adaline’s coastal region, while also only a couple of distance away from the Dusdolfian border.

“A fisherman town that dabbled in shipwright business recently. It’s also open to the sea, and they have ships ready if we ever need it. Been doing business with us from the south through the sea. It’s also good for us sea traders to rest. The trip can be long, especially if there is a storm. It’s also close to us, so we can drive there in a short time.”

As the old man discussed this with Rhynsa, the Fuzandre translated what he said to Asrati in Hordo, who acknowledged it.

“But I have a feeling it’s not that simple,” said Rhynsa.

“Nothing’s simple in life, as I’m sure you’re aware. Cardogg is far from all the insanity, sure, but with Tragoria turning into hell every day, we might not be able to stay in Cardogg for long. But I’ve lived my whole bloody life in this land. I might as well fight to the bitter end, eh?”

Rhynsa could only nod, understanding the old human greatly. While Rhynsa could no longer relate to that, he could understand.

He relayed most of the information to Asrati but considering that he still had reservations regarding the hellhound, he subtly withheld some information, such as the fact that Cardogg was a major transit hub or even if they could use a ship. She and her group would know only when they saw it, but not when she had a chance to relay the information to the enemy. Rhynsa tried not to hesitate when he delivered the information so Asrati would not be suspicious. He really hoped his suspicions were unfounded. He would not want to see the children as enemies or see them confused. He had enough of that.

The meeting in the public house was very beneficial in the decision to finally move to Cardogg. Rhynsa noticed how Asrati planned to defend the people that she pledged to protect, with the surface dwellers preparing to evacuate. The Fuzandre also noticed that some of the Lycans were talking to the werefoxes. Considering their tribal mindset, they would be reluctant to leave the forest they made their home, but they knew the situation and chose self-preservation than pride. Thus, the werefoxes joined the convoy with whatever provisions and weapons they had with them. The effort took them all day, finally finishing on the early hours the next day.

Rhynsa, Mizarka, and Arnulfe tried to help, but found that the evacuees, helped by the hellhounds, could do things for themselves. The hellhounds were capable enough and they clearly had done mass evacuations before, clearly when the Underworld were overrun by demons. So, most of the time, they relaxed with the others who finished their jobs, though they kept for themselves.

This moment of respite was also beneficial in giving them a well-needed, though short, rest, in which they were given time to start having a casual conversation that had not been possible ever since they were attacked by the bat demon and recovering from the trauma caused by it (everyone except Arnulfe, who was unaffected). They wanted to discuss that, but Arnulfe convinced them to let it go. Rhynsa was harder to convince, owing to his personality, but Arnulfe, who could relate to Rhynsa’s sarcastic, brooding personality, told him something that even the brown furred Fuzandre could understood.

“(Just because I’m different, doesn’t mean it changes anything, brother),” said Arnulfe. “(I have been thorough with you two about it, right? I could just easily say I’m affected, too).”

“(For now),” said Rhynsa.

“(I don’t mean all the time, right? Come on, Rhynsa, lighten up a little. I don’t want to see you depressed all the time. Try and focus on what you got instead of what you lost. It’s not like it’s a sin, you know?)”

Rhynsa could tell him to shut up and mind his own business, but he wasn’t the confrontative kind. Instead, fitting his personality, Rhynsa chuckled and said, “(Been sinning ever since I scored my first kill, kid. I doubt anyone who lived so close to hell can even be considered pure).”

“(So, you’re saying we Jackals are the worst sinners of all)?” said Mizarka, with no hint of seriousness in her voice.

“(We’re comparing sizes now?)”

This caused Arnulfe to let out a snort, followed by a chuckle, then a laugh. Mizarka also laughed, especially since Rhynsa’s way of delivering it sounded so funny. Rhynsa, aware of his sarcasm now being perceived as a sarcastic joke, could only chuckle. He had not let out a genuine chuckle for years. He never would’ve thought a Jackal and a furless Fuzandre would be good companies.

After they stopped laughing, Arnulfe, who was still in the mood, then said, “(Hey, so, Rhynsa. Is there anything fun in Summinat?)”

“(Fun? Like what?)” asked Rhynsa.

“(Oh, you know, a place to let go and to forget this whole mess).”

“(You know it won’t change the fact that we’re still facing the possible end of the surface world).”

“(But that doesn’t mean you can’t let off some weight, right? I don’t want to think too much about tragedies when the mourning period’s over).”

“(I wonder. Have you ever lost anyone in your life?)”

“(I…well, I lost a lot of people dear to me. Like I said, I don’t have a clan, so the outcasts I lived with were my brothers. Things changed. Some of them, I can’t call brother or sister anymore. Some others…they don’t get to see another day).” Arnulfe then paused, before he said, “(But I believe that they don’t want you to be sad because of them. I mean, sure, some of them wished that’s the case, especially if they want to torment you from beyond the grave. But being happy can also act as a ‘fuck you’ to them, don’t you think?)”

“(Heh. I like your way of thinking, kid),” said Rhynsa. “(Guess you’re not the happy-go-lucky kind of Fuzandre I thought you were).”

“(Oh, am I that annoying to you?)”

“(A little. But why the fuck not?)”

He didn’t say that lightly. If he was anything like before the traumatic experience with the demon, he would be thoroughly annoyed with Arnulfe, which was something that he did. Yet, Arnulfe reminded him of a simpler time, where he was easy to trust someone.

How the years had went by.

“(Hey),” said Mizarka. “(I know it’s a hard promise, but I’ll say it anyway. Don’t die. We’ll see the end of this, and we’ll start anew. How’s that sound?)”

“(A little hacky?)” commented Rhynsa.

“(But a good thing to look for),” said Arnulfe. “(Come on, Rhynsa. It’s not like your life’s over when things die down).”

“(Try and spend 20 years and you’ll sing a different song, kid).”

“(Well, good thing I’m barely 20. I still got a long way to go, old bat).”

Rhynsa scoffed. “(41’s not that old).”

“(At least you think that way),” said Mizarka with a smile. She then stood up and said, “(Guess rest time’s over. They seem ready to go to…where are we going again?)”

“(Cardogg).”

“(Cardogg. Come on).”

Rhynsa could see Asrati was calling for them, now that the cars that made the barricade had been repurposed into transports. The Fuzandre stood up and doused the fire they sat around, readying himself for a possible ambush or even skirmishes.

He anticipated this. He knew it would not be a simple trip. Tragoria was no longer the safe countryside it once was.

Now, it was a hell on Earth.