The houndsman 4 a base b.., p.1
The Houndsman 4: A Base-Building LitRPG Adventure, page 1
THE HOUNDSMAN: BOOK 4
©2023 J PAL
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ALSO IN SERIES
BOOK ONE
BOOK TWO
BOOK THREE
BOOK FOUR
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Thank you for reading The Houndsman: Book 4
1
Distance between the serpent and Flint shrunk with every passing second. It didn’t slither or stalk but shot toward its prey, covering several feet with every heartbeat. The earth parted in its wake, and no root or rock deterred it.
Flint stood alone.
He had no weapon. His pack was too far behind him to be of any assistance. Maya, Og, and Ceri’s presence hummed in the back of his mind, begging him to flee or buy time until they got to him. Flint knew they wouldn’t make it to him fast enough. Fleeing was easier said than done. His rune-covered bone-wood prosthetic lay in pieces among the wooden spikes surrounding him. One such conjured structure gave him support. Smaller serpents hung impaled on them. The old scars covering them suggested they were too mature to be the approaching monster’s children.
Mates?
Flint knew next to nothing about serpents, reptiles, or whatever the creatures were. Even if he did, they were unlike anything he’d ever seen. Two bony dirt-caked shells covered their skulls. The smaller piece formed the lower jaw, while another segment three times the size covered the rest of its head. Both appeared blockish and ended in wide, triangular spikes. The inner edges formed serrated blades that met over the dark maw that separated the two pieces. Flint saw no eyes, nostrils, or ear holes. The rest of the creatures’ bodies were odd too. Instead of scales, he saw bark and root-like hairs. If he survived the encounter, Flint hoped to cut them apart and see whether the odd hide was a part of their anatomy or came from swimming through the ground like water.
“Breathe,” he whispered, trying to calm himself. A couple of deep breaths helped soothe Flint’s throbbing temples but did nothing to slow his racing heart.
“Shape,” Flint mumbled, compressing and twisting a nearby stone spike into a new leg. He didn’t need to say the word. Ever since he gave up the node system and took a step toward true druid-hood, magic came to him naturally. Flint needed nothing but focus and a clear image for the Aether to obey him. However, he lacked fancy training like the fae. He had little to work with besides his experience as a builder for the Iron Army. So, he used the words to direct his will.
“Golem of Life. Builder’s Ward.”
The new prosthetic didn’t dull the pain in his hip or soothe the inflamed skin around his stump. However, it gave him the mobility to evade and perhaps escape. Then he glanced back at his approaching pack and wondered whether fleeing was in their best interest.
If Bjorn or Gwen were still a part of the pack, he’d have a chance. The late Willow could’ve helped too. Maya and the pups lacked the tools needed to combat the approaching monster. As long as it remained half submerged, Maya’s lightning spheres would do little more than tickle it. Ceri’s powers, though potent, had proven unpredictable and inconsistent, and Flint didn’t quite understand them. Finally, Og had developed some bulk but lacked the coordination to do much against the monster. His magic nullification had little use in the current scenario.
Flint had no choice but to fight and somehow win. If he fell, the pack would likely try to avenge him, and he didn’t doubt they’d fail. The pups would surely die, and if Maya survived, she’d spend her remaining days crippled and likely in pain. So he knelt, pressed both palms against the ground, and channeled his Aether.
“Shape.”
The spikes surrounding Flint crumbled and the earth below him came together. Damp, warm air flowed upward, caressing his cheeks as it all compressed into a solid block. If the serpent felt the change in the ground, it didn’t show it. The creature’s velocity remained unchanged. In an ideal world, Flint would time his transmutation spell perfectly. The stone would turn to iron right as the serpent collided with it. Hopefully the material would hold and the monster would stun itself long enough for him to impale it with spikes.
“Breathe,” Flint repeated. The plan wouldn’t work if he didn’t calm down and time the spell right. Reinforcing his mind and body to momentarily slow his perception of time could potentially increase his chance of success. Fortunately, the totem’s warming aura helped Flint find his focus. Flint studied his surroundings, looking for more weapons. Besides the stones already under his control, he saw nothing but dirt and wood. Flint could, of course, compress them into usable weapons. If he still had the [Change Density] skill, Ceri could’ve inscribed it as runes in his inner grove. It would’ve made the otherwise-weak material usable and potent against the monstrous serpent. The Arachne had claimed it as payment for the ritual that made him a druid, leaving him with nothing but will to accomplish the same. The concentration and Aether requirements made the task difficult during such dire situations.
Flint wanted to check on the approaching pack with every fiber of his being. Knowing their exact position would help him plan the fight better. If he forced the beast out of the ground, Maya’s lightning spheres could potentially stun, if not outright kill the beast. However, the monster’s ever-changing speed, occasional weaving, and fish-like leaps made it too risky. Flint believed, though seemingly eyeless, that it could feel him watching it. Given the opportunity, the monster would increase its speed and be on him in a heartbeat.
Instead, Flint focused on his empathic senses to track them. Maya led the trio. He could feel her desperation to reach him. Even though she wasn’t his bonded companion, Flint could almost feel her emotions as clearly as Ceri’s. Maya had lost him once and refused to let anything take him from her again.
Ceri lagged far behind her mother and sibling. Her mind felt significantly more complex. However, the worries and concerns weren’t vastly different. Unlike Maya’s single-minded pursuit, Ceri also explored options for combating the beast. Flint could feel her looking through his eyes, studying the environment, their magic stores, and his choice of spells.
Og was the least complicated of the trio: rage and fear. The colors and temperatures represent the two emotions radiating from him. Flint paused just as he was about to warn them about the monster. He felt a fourth presence. Even though the mind was more primal than any of the dogs, he felt its—her—mind just as clearly.
Rage and fear.
Images flashed through Flint’s mind. The creature feared the dogs more than him. In fact, he was little more than an obstacle en route to its destination. Despite his instincts rebelling, Flint dared to rip his eyes off the beast and glance over his shoulder. A mound between the hillocks caught his eye. He sensed weak, slumbering presences not too different from the serpent.
“You’re a mother,” he mumbled. Flint’s eyes wandered over the corpses around him.
Stop!
Og and
Maya, sit!
Flint sent a powerful wave through the empathic bond, making Maya stagger. She slowed but didn’t stop until Ceri bit down on her tail.
Mother is stupid. Ceri’s thoughts went ignored.
Kneeling hurt Flint’s hip, and the prosthetic rubbed against the stump’s raw skin uncomfortably. He ignored all discomfort and pressed his palms into the dirt. The three cores in Flint’s inner grove hummed. Energy flowed from the largest of them as he shaped the hillock, the roots, and every stone under him. Confusion radiated from Maya, and she ceased growling at Ceri as the ground carried Flint upward. When the flow of Aether stopped, they saw him standing atop a giant arch. Stones had gathered on the inner walls and the ground below, forming a smooth path that led straight to the earthen mound’s mouth.
The serpent slowed. It stopped at the arch’s mouth and rose. Dirt, worms, and bits of grass rained from the creature’s bony skull. Flint saw no eyes but could feel the beast watching and studying him. When it exhaled, a hot blast of air almost knocked him off his feet.
Flint spoke and simultaneously sent empathic waves at the beast. “I’m sorry for killing your comrades. If we knew this was your territory, we would’ve stayed clear of it. My pack and I mean your little ones no harm.” He paused as another putrid breath washed over him. “Let us walk free; no one else need get hurt today. Your children will remain unharmed, and you can save your strength to protect them from greater threats.”
The rage faded, but Flint still felt the creature’s fear. It only ebbed when Flint commanded Maya to quiet down and sit. She obeyed and the monster lowered its head. The serpent slithered through the arch and into her nest.
The world went black and glowing words filled the darkness. A nasal voice spoke to him, and the accompanying script reminded him of interfacing with a Heartstone or druidic machine.
You’ve finally completed the first druidic trial.
Took you long enough.
Your instinctual command over Life Aether and Earth- and-Wood-focused Shaping Aether has improved significantly.
You’ve unlocked the inherited gift: Wyrm Friend.
Your father committed druidic blasphemy when he befriended creatures related to he who gnaws on Yggdrasil’s roots. Serpents tied to Earth- and Wood-focused Aethers will no longer see you as a foe unless you threaten them or their territory.
When creating golems, you can adopt their forms without prior Shaping.
The darkness faded. Flint’s inner grove took its place, and he found Ceri sitting opposite him. Instead of her canine form, she wore the body of a little girl, just bigger than a toddler.
“I was starting to think you’d never succeed,” she commented. Flint didn’t need his empathic powers to feel her amusement. “I suppose the sixteenth time is the charm.”
Memories of previous attempts flooded Flint. Concerned for the pack’s survival, he had never considered empathizing with the creature before. In most iterations, Flint had adopted an offensive approach. The earth wyrm cleaved through stone and wooden barriers like they were paper. Transmuted walls succeeded at stunning the monster and cracking its armored skull. Unfortunately, it recovered before Flint could inflict more damage.
It alarmed Flint that he had used it as a shield during a couple of attempts when he detected the nest. Evading around the mound had slowed the beast long enough for Maya to reach them. Unfortunately, Flint’s Shaping spells, though faster than skill-stone-given skills, lacked the speed to keep up with the wyrm’s desperate attacks. Eventually, he and the pack had perished.
Flint recalled only one attempt where he and the pack got close to a possible victory. Instead of connecting with the beast and communicating with it, he attempted to overwhelm it with his empathic powers. Unfortunately, the primal mind’s workings were beyond Flint. He had slowed it long enough for Maya to attack and impale it with spikes. Unfortunately, the physical and mental strain had eventually gotten the best of the pair. Flint recalled the battle ending with Maya wrapped in the monster’s tail and the spiked head impaling his chest.
“Well, if your mysterious teacher would appear and be open about the trials, perhaps I’d have an easier time with them,” Flint said, rising to his feet. His three Aether cores floated overhead. The two spheres containing his Shaping and Life attunements appeared bigger. The former had gained a grainy texture reminiscent of bark, and glowing hairy tendrils hung from it. Meanwhile, the Life core’s green color had gained vibrancy, and Flint felt it mirroring Ceri’s amusement. The presence hiding within felt ancient and significantly more mature than any mind he’d ever felt.
“That’s the thing. The trials aren’t meant to be easy. Druids inherit great power but must prove themselves worthy before accessing that power.”
“When can I take the next trial?” Flint asked.
“Once you’ve recovered from this one and have exhibited better control over Life and Shaping.” Ceri paused, glancing at the hovering cores. “Ra—teacher says that awakening the seed will accelerate the process.”
Flint glanced at the pedestal in the clearing’s center. A marble-sized golden seed sat atop it, radiating Aether more potent than that of any of his cores.
Neither Shaping nor Life Aether stirred the seed. It remained inert and unwilling to respond to Flint’s attempts. According to Ceri’s teacher, the easiest process of awakening involved planting it on a disk and feeding it Aether. The seed would sprout without issue and bring new life to the realm. However, Flint would gain minimal power from the act and the locals would war over control of the new world tree. Young world trees also lacked the ability to defend themselves and often fell victim to entities like Oth and those who worshipped the Void.
Meanwhile, planting the seed in his grove would ensure its safety as a sapling. It would remain hidden from those who sought to exploit Yggdrasil and her descendants. Flint would gain power from the world tree, allowing him to walk paths similar to the fabled druid, Gaia. When Flint died—of old age or at the hands of a foe—the tree would sprout from his corpse. Feeding on Flint’s druidic powers and the time in his inner grove would give it adequate strength to survive. Unfortunately, the latter option required understanding and control over Aether which Flint didn’t yet possess.
The grove shook. “It’s time to wake up,” Ceri said, and a glowing doorway emerged from the ground.
Flint knew he had no choice but to walk through it, but questions still fresh on his mind demanded answers. “These trials. Is there anything I can do to remember that they’re not real?”
Ceri shook her head. “That would defeat the purpose of them,” she answered. “Your empathic gifts were the key to this trial. If you knew the trials were dreamscapes or the previous iterations, they’d become meaningless. Spontaneity and urgency are necessary to ensure the trials’ integrity.”
“I thought giving up the node system, going through the pain, and risking death would be enough to prove my worthiness as a druid.” Flint sighed. “Can you study the seed for me? Perhaps a different perspective will help us solve the problem. The sooner we grow stronger, the sooner we can deal with the coming threat.”
“That’s not your job though. Is it, Flint?” Ceri tilted her head like a questioning pup as her purple eyes studied him. “That’s up to the Champion of Equilibrium. Find someone worthy of the title and move on. A druid’s purpose is significantly greater than a single disk’s problems.”
