COTBC 44

Chapter 44

Returning Home (1)

Deep into the night, only the sentries remained awake in the military camp.

Everyone else slept.

A horn suddenly shattered the silence.

Buuuuu—!

Followed by heavy, urgent drums.

Dum— dum— dum— dum—

Chaos erupted instantly.

“Raid! It’s a raid!”
“Hellhounds!”

The same cries spread across the camp as soldiers and tribespeople scrambled from their sleep.

“Where’s the brat—no, the lord?!”
“He went out with the captain!”
“And the company commander?!”
“They’re out too!”

The highest-ranking officers were all absent.

With no formal command, veteran soldiers immediately stepped forward, forming squads of ten and organizing defenses.

Günter was among them.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked sharply.

“No idea, damn it. One of the watchtower guys said he saw a pack of hellhounds,” a veteran muttered, rubbing his head. “My damn head’s killing me.”

Half-asleep soldiers grabbed weapons blindly. Some still swayed, hungover and disoriented. No one had a clear picture of the situation.

“Waaahhh—”

Children cried. Women held them tightly, fear in their eyes.

Günter briefly reassured the tribespeople before rushing toward the watchtower where the horn had sounded.

“What did you see?”
“Over there… there’s something there.”

The guard pointed into the darkness.

Clouds swallowed the moonlight. The ridge ahead was barely visible.

“It’s just dry brush, isn’t it?”
“No… look closely. Red light. Red eyes.”

“….”

Something was there.

Torchlight flickered—but only vague silhouettes appeared.

“What are you doing?”
“Shh.”

Günter grabbed the torch and threw it outward.

As his eyes adjusted, the shapes on the ridge became clear.

“…Ah.”

A low breath escaped him.

More than a dozen hellhounds.

Eyes glowing red in the darkness.

If this were a mistake, the horn would never have been sounded.

“Günter! Is it really hellhounds?!” someone shouted from below.

Günter raised his hand and signaled.

A line drawn from cheek to mouth.

Two fingers raised.

Then a clenched fist.

At least twenty.

“Damn it! Build the barricade! Move!” a veteran roared. “Those mutts are back! This time, none of them leave alive!”

The camp snapped into full war readiness.

Arrows were nocked. Crossbows loaded. Shields raised.

They had survived hellhounds before—but not like this.

No Bessemer.
Half their manpower.
And civilians behind them.

“Three approaching from the front! Two hundred meters! One-fifty!”

“Shit…” an archer muttered.

Distance closed fast.

Three shapes broke through the darkness.

“Fire ready!”

“TWO FIFTY!”

Tension snapped.

“Fire!”

Arrows and bolts surged forward like a storm.

Impact was immediate.

Experienced archers knew the moment they hit.

But—

Clang.

A blade rang out as Carlson deflected an arrow.

Bessemer caught a crossbow bolt barehanded.

Growl—

The three hellhounds stood under the firelight.

No attack.

No charge.

Just watching.

“…Did I not sleep enough?” one soldier muttered.

Even the veteran commander blinked in disbelief.

And then—

The truth was revealed.

Three riders sat atop the hellhounds.

Carlson.

Bessemer.

Isaac.

Silence swallowed the camp.

“…How is this possible?” Günter whispered from the watchtower.

Days passed.

Everything changed.

The hellhounds were no longer enemies.

At dawn, one appeared at the camp entrance—dropping a wild boar.

Then another brought a deer.

Then a giant rabbit.

“Move! Don’t just stand there!” Carlson barked as training resumed, irritated.

The hellhounds disappeared back into the forest as if nothing had happened.

Then something stranger began.

They started digging the frozen soil.

Tearing up blue flowers.

Breaking hardened earth with their claws.

At first one.

Then more.

Veterans cautiously followed.

Tension faded.

Slowly—impossibly—they became part of daily life.

Even children played with them.

Pulling fur.
Grabbing tails.
Trying to climb onto their backs.

Growl.

The beasts only grumbled.

Never attacked.

Normalcy formed where fear once ruled.

“My lord, a letter has arrived,” Carlson said, entering Isaac’s tent.

Isaac was deep in research.

Through his bond with the hellhounds, he now perceived their senses.

Their instincts.
Their mana flow.

A new system of understanding magic had begun forming in his mind.

Isaac opened his eyes.

“Haa…”

“It’s Schiller,” he said. “Give it here.”

He read.

“What does it say?” Carlson asked.

“Two problems. One expected, one not.”

Carlson frowned.

“We can’t get draft animals. Horses are forbidden. Cattle and donkeys are nearly impossible. Everything here runs on horses.”

“That tracks,” Carlson said.

“And the unexpected one…”

Isaac paused.

“A royal inspector is coming.”

Carlson stiffened.

“A royal inspector?”

“Yeah.”

“…Not the Church?”

“Unknown. Could be routine. Could be worse.”

Isaac folded the letter.

“I have to go to Bern anyway. I need a blacksmith.”

He stood.

“We’re going home. Prepare the carriage.”

Wind swept across Binfelt’s plains.

Open land carried sound too easily.

Some said it was the dead speaking.

Others said it was spirits.

Isaac stood still for a moment.

Then thought of Jonas.

And the sound of piano keys.

Inside Goethe Estate

The atmosphere inside Count Goethe’s territory was completely different from Binfelt.

Cultivated land stretched across wide plains.
Villages blended with farmland.
Wagons moved steadily along dirt roads.

Trees—oaks and elms—stood tall in the distance.

Everything felt… alive.

“Stop here,” Carlson said at dawn.

“Here?” Hans asked.

“A fork in the road. I have business in Bern.”

“But the lord needs protection—”

Carlson already looked away.

“I’m fine,” he said, glancing toward the distant hellhound.

Hans swallowed.

“…At least let me escort you to the estate.”

“No need. This is Goethe land. Patrols are active.”

Carlson walked off without waiting.

Isaac woke later.

“Bern?” he asked.

“Yes,” Hans replied.

Carlson was already gone.

Isaac yawned.

“Let’s go.”

Hans hesitated.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

“I already know.”

Carlson was carrying guilt.

Randolph’s death.
The Church’s massacre.

And the families left behind.

Isaac watched Carlson disappear into the distance.

“He cares too much,” Isaac muttered.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

At the estate, chaos began instantly.

Hans arrived first.

He looked unrecognizable—filthy, exhausted, aged.

“Is that… Hans?” a servant asked.

“Welcome back,” said Paul, Jonas’s attendant.

Hans froze.

Warmth hit him harder than expected.

He had survived.

He had returned.

“I brought the lord back,” Hans said quickly.

“…The lord?”

“Yes. Isaac.”

But when Paul looked around—

there was no child.

Only a rough-looking young man sitting in the carriage.

Gray-black hair.
Sharp eyes.
Strange, hardened presence.

“…Who is that?” Paul asked.

Hans hesitated.

“…You actually know him.”

Paul frowned.

Then the boy spoke.

“Long time no see, Paul. Is Jonas doing well?”

Silence.

“…Isaac, young master?”

Paul’s knees nearly gave out.

It was him.

But completely changed.

“Yeah,” Isaac said calmly. “I brought someone with me. Hope that’s fine.”

Then—

A shadow shifted behind him.

Something massive.

Red eyes.

Paul turned—

“Wha—?!”

He fainted instantly.

Panic exploded.

“Monster!”
“Raise the alarm!”

Guards rushed in.

Servants screamed.

A massive hellhound stood in the courtyard.

Black fur.
Red eyes.
Blade-like teeth.

Even trained soldiers hesitated.

“Everyone calm down!” Hans shouted. “That’s the young master! He came back from Binfelt!”

No one believed him.

“I’ll explain,” Isaac said.

He pointed casually.

“This is my pet dog.”

“….”

Silence.

Hans buried his face in his hands.

“That’s not helping…”

Servants were already backing away.

Guards surrounded them.

“Identify yourself!”
“Or we will strike!”

Isaac sighed.

“They really don’t believe me.”

Then—

A voice cut through the chaos.

“Big brother!”

A golden-haired child broke through the crowd.

“Jonas—!” a tutor shouted.

But the child didn’t stop.

He ran straight toward the hellhound.

“Stop him!” someone screamed.

Too late.

The child reached Isaac.

The courtyard held its breath.

Everyone expected death.

But—

Nothing happened.

Isaac crouched and embraced the child.

“I’m back, Jonas.”