Chapter 44 – Blades of the Scorch Hounds
The Bastion doors have opened — but so have the scars of the past. As Kael and his allies dive deeper into the realm's secrets, an ancient order makes their explosive return. Blood runs where fire once ruled… and the Scorch Hounds are hungry.
Bastion's Lower Tier – Ember Vault Edge
Sparks rained down like dying stars.
The stone above Kael's head exploded as a halberd of molten alloy tore through it, trailing liquid flame in its arc. He barely rolled aside, heat singeing the edge of his sleeve. The air pulsed unnaturally — this wasn't wild elemental pressure. No, this was controlled. Trained.
Weapons and warriors forged in fire, not born from it.
The Scorch Hounds had returned.
From the mist of smoke and fractured stone emerged a squad of five — each cloaked in armor marbled with flame sigils. Crimson masks shaped like snarling wolves covered their faces. Beneath those masks, Kael could feel eyes—not human, not entirely—studying him.
Measuring him.
"Flame assassins…" Kael's breath came hard. He gritted his teeth and rose into a half-guard stance, Ember Sigil clenched tight in one hand. It pulsed like a war drum, reacting violently to their presence.
Behind him, Renna crouched low, hands glowing with energy coils. "I thought the Scorch Hounds were extinct!"
"They were," Kael muttered. "But it looks like someone dug them out of hell."
A boom echoed through the chamber as the Hounds stepped forward in perfect unison. One figure—taller than the rest—took the lead. His armor was older, battle-scarred, runes etched into the plates like brands. His mask had fangs, but not just stylized — they were bone.
The leader stopped within striking distance and spoke.
His voice was low. Rough. Filtered through a war-forged helm but still unmistakably alive.
"Return the Aeonic Flame."
A pause.
"That power does not belong to you, Pretender."
Kael's muscles tensed. He stood his ground, fire rippling faintly along his forearms.
"I didn't steal it," Kael said. "I woke it."
No reply. Just motion.
Two Hounds broke rank — fast as lightning, swords of burning obsidian flashing in the dim light. One came high. One came low. Perfect formation. Perfect death.
Kael moved without thinking, instincts triggered by the Ember's pulse in his blood. A flicker of Emberstep—then silence. The world stuttered into a blur of heat trails and residual flame. He ducked, twisted, and slammed a flaming elbow into one Hound's mask.
Sparks exploded. The enemy stumbled.
But didn't fall.
They didn't break.
Renna's pulse cannon roared. The blast hit dead-center on one of the advancing Hounds — and vanished into his rune-lined bracers like smoke.
"Are you kidding me?" she gasped.
"Absorption runes," Darius yelled, joining the chaos as his chain-blade whirled into view. It cut wide across the battlefield, forcing the Hounds to scatter. "These bastards are ancient-tech. Watch your six!"
Kael's Internal Thought
They're not just fighting me… they're testing me.Not for weakness. For worth.Like they know something I don't.
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Return of the Scorch Hounds
Centuries ago, the Scorch Hounds were the silent right hand of the Watchers — assassins trained to end rebellions before they ever began. Born in flame, raised in ritual. Their existence had been wiped from official memory following the Ember Reconciliation War.
But secrets never stay buried in a realm that remembers.
And if the Hounds were back…
Someone in the Watchers had given the order.
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Scene Shift: The Bastion Cracks
As Kael dodged another strike, a low rumble rippled through the chamber floor. The ground splintered. Stone cracked. Something old groaned beneath the Bastion's foundation.
Then—
Fwoooom.
A distant gate unsealed itself. No one had touched it.
All eyes turned.
Beyond the jagged debris and flickering sparks, an ancient chamber revealed itself — sunken, but glowing. Suspended at its center, bathed in orange-red light, was an object that didn't belong to this world.
A piece of something vast.
A fragment of the Final Ember — the last realm core.
Renna's voice came in a whisper. "Is that what they're after?"
Kael stared. The pulsing in his Ember Sigil synced with it—heart to heart. Flame to flame.
He didn't need anyone to answer.
"That's… mine," Kael said quietly.
The Scorch Hound leader tilted his head.
"Then come and take it."
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Combat Module Sync: Reignition Protocol Triggered
Flamebearer Synchronization: 47%Partial Overclock InitiatedWarning: Inheritance Instability Detected
Kael exhaled. His vision tinted amber as inner flame surged.
The ground lit beneath his feet — an ancient sigil pattern he'd never seen before. Not his own. Not Aeon's. Something older. Forgotten.
His blood recognized it before his brain did.
The Ash Monarch's seal.
"It's happening again," Kael thought. "I'm not just drawing power... I'm becoming something."
And somewhere, faintly—
A voice whispered from the flicker between flames:
"Let it burn."
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Renna vs. the Hounds
Renna's body blurred with kinetic folds, skipping between cover and burst fire as she fought off a second Hound with her energy daggers. For a brief moment, she locked eyes with Kael — and saw something shift behind them.
A pressure.
A memory.
She knew that look. Kael wasn't just fighting them.
He was remembering a war he'd never lived through.
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Darius' Realization
One of the Hounds pinned Darius near a broken flame altar. He swung wide, but the blade caught only air. His opponent vanished, reappearing with a warping flick of flame travel — not Emberstep. Something older.
A style of movement lost to even Darius.
"Gods," he whispered. "They know the Old Way."
He parried desperately, eyes widening.
These weren't echoes of an ancient order.
These were survivors.
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Kael vs. the Leader
Kael advanced.
So did the Hound Leader.
They met in the center of the chamber—flame and will clashing. Each blow ignited the air around them, pressure rising like a storm trapped beneath skin. Sparks danced. Cracks spread.
Then — impact.
Kael struck with a fist wrapped in Emberlight, sending the leader stumbling back. The mask cracked slightly, revealing something beneath:
A tattoo. Etched along the jawline.
A flame crest Kael had seen before.
In an old dream.
A memory not his.
The same crest his father wore.
[End Of Chapter 44 – Blades of the Scorch Hounds]
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As Kael collapsed to one knee, exhausted and scorched, a burning mark seared across his chest — not Aeon's brand.
But the Ash Monarch's sigil, fully awakened.
It pulsed once.
Twice.
Then whispered in a voice only Kael could hear:
"Find me."
Kael's eyes snapped open, glowing like cinders in a windstorm.
The war had never ended.
It had just been waiting for its heir.
Next Chapter Preview:
Chapter 45 – Trial by Ash and Blood
With the Final Ember fragment within reach, Kael must survive a battle that isn't just physical — but legacy-bound. The Scorch Hounds demand blood, and Kael must answer. In the shadows of his father's forgotten war, Kael's own truth ignites… or he burns trying.