"Welcome to your... graveyard."
I gulped inwardly, my mind racing as I wondered whether Virion was joking or speaking the truth. Given his current mood and the ominous atmosphere of this place, it could very well be the latter.
I watched him as he glanced at Zephyr. "You know the rules, explain them to him. I’ve got things to do." Then, with a glance my way and a wink, he added. "I will be back in ten hours, so make sure to stay alive till then."
"See you later. If you are alive by then, that is~"
With that ominous line, he turned in the opposite direction and clapped his wings once. He vanished in a brilliant flash of light, leaving us all alone.
I turned to my stoic companion, breathing in the acrid air that tasted of ash, rust, and something else entirely - a strange, malevolent energy that made my skin crawl and my instincts scream danger.
"Zephy," I said, summoning my beloved sword, the Echo of Remorse, "where exactly are we? This doesn’t feel like any part of Virion’s domain I’ve experienced before."
"It’s because we aren’t in his domain." Zephyr’s tone grew even more grim as he surveyed our surroundings. "Save your aura as much as you can. No, it’s better if you don’t use it unless necessary," he said curtly. "We’ll talk after the battle."
Understanding the urgency in his voice, I nodded and drew the sword from its sheath.
As those countless red eyes finally emerged from the swirling ash and came into clear view, I could make out their true forms - skeletal wolf-like creatures with exposed ribs and spines, their hollow eye sockets burning with crimson fire that seemed to hunger for our flesh.
"Bonehounds," Zephyr stated tersely, readying his shortsword. "They’re fast and absolutely relentless once they catch your ’scent’. But their exposed bones are brittle - aim for the joints where they connect. Shoulders, hips, and neck vertebrae." His eyes never left the approaching pack. "Never let them surround you, and whatever you do, don’t let them touch you directly, especially that fire."
"Hmm, then do they-" I wanted to ask if they spewed fire from their mouths or shot it from their eyes, but I got my answer immediately when the first wave of bonehounds lunged forward.
Crimson beams erupted from their eye sockets while they moved, cutting through the air with high speed. They weren’t shot randomly, but with a calculated motive - to restrict our movements and herd us into kill zones.
Are they undead monsters or what? I should-
But I noticed Zephyr had already vanished from my peripheral vision, likely using his superior speed and experience to his advantage.
There was no time to track him as I had to dodge those beams and observe the pack splitting up. Some were circling to flank me, while others pressed forward with their searing eye-beams.
I took a deep breath, taking a posture.
Good, let’s do this then.
The first few minutes were chaotic.
The sheer number of them, easily over a hundred, made it difficult to find any breathing room. Their fire beams crisscrossed the battlefield like a deadly laser grid, forcing me to weave between them while trying to close the distance for melee combat.
But as I fought, I began to notice the patterns.
The bonehounds couldn’t fire continuously; there was a brief cooldown after each beam, maybe two or three seconds, where their eye-fire dimmed. They also had to pause momentarily to aim, making them vulnerable during those split seconds.
Watching Zephyr’s fluid movements in the distance, I saw how he exploited these weaknesses. He would bait their fire beams, dodge at the last moment, then strike during their recovery period.
Following his example and adapting it to my own style, I began to fight back. Duck, bend, jump, weave, strike the joints, move to the next target. The Echo of Remorse sang through the air, shattering brittle bone and scattering the crimson fires that burned within their skulls.
Within fifteen minutes, the last bonehound crumbled to ash, its fire finally extinguished.
As we sat down to rest among the scattered bone fragments, I looked at Zephyr expectantly, waiting for his explanation about this nightmarish place.
Zephyr glanced around the desolate surroundings before finally speaking. "This is the outer region of one of the eight forbidden zones in the world."
He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "This zone is called the Abyssal Fringe or The Grave of Forgotten Echoes. It has four distinct parts." He gestured to the cracked obsidian ground beneath us. "This area we’re in now is called the Bleached Plains, though we simply refer to it as the Wastelands."
I nodded, encouraging him to continue.
"Beyond this lies the middle zone - the Ossuary Valleys. Canyons carved through endless piles of bones, where the air itself is thick with the remnants of ancient death." His expression grew darker. "Then comes the inner zone - The Shattered Necropolis. A ruined fortress city lies buried there, filled with things far, far, and far worse than these small fries."
After a pause, he added grimly, "Those four are probably somewhere in there too."
The thought of the Turtle Brothers trapped in such a place made my stomach clench. But whether from worry or joy, I didn’t know.
"Is that all? Or is there the final part too?" I prompted.
"...The Abyssal Maw," Zephyr said simply, but the way he said it suggested that even he didn’t know much about that deepest region. "It’s a place even Virion needs to approach with caution."
I nodded in grim understanding, but something nagged at me. "But... I heard there were only seven forbidden zones in the world."
Zephyr met my gaze and nodded. "We discovered it not long after our departure. Though I have a feeling that Virion had always known about it. Its existence has been hidden from the world, so most Alverrians don’t know it even exists."
His eyes darkened as he finished his words.
"...And for a good reason."