Bloodhound’s Regression Instinct

Chapter 174

As a tense atmosphere brewed between Vulcan and Theo, Yan delved into his pocket and retrieved something.

It was a bundle of rolled-up parchment.

Yan distributed dozens of sheets to Owen and Damian.

“What’s this?” Owen blinked in confusion.

The parchment was inscribed with indecipherable symbols at regular intervals.

Damian, too, looked at Yan with eyes full of questions.

Yan placed a finger to his lips and whispered, “Disposable artifacts. When the orcs charge, tear them towards that direction.”

Damian and Owen seemed eager to ask more, but Yan’s sealed lips and shaking head stopped them.

Yan then turned his gaze to Theo and Vulcan.

The dense mana emanating from the two enveloped the surroundings.

And in that moment, Theo made his move.

**Swoosh!**

With a swift draw of his sword, he slashed across Vulcan’s chest.

It was an attack so sudden, responding was nearly impossible.

Yet, it wasn’t fatal.

It was too shallow.

Not due to Theo’s lack of strength, but because of Vulcan’s abnormally tough hide.

Enraged by Theo’s strike, Vulcan let out a massive roar and thrust his axe skyward.

“Roaarrrrr!”

His roar seemed to signal the encircling orcs, who, with wild eyes, charged forward.

“Theo! Get out of there!” Owen shouted, leaping into action.

Damian and Yan also dodged the oncoming orcs, retreating backward.

Yan tore one of the parchments as a wave of orcs surged towards them.

**Rip!**

The parchment split dramatically.

Suddenly, the symbols on the parchment glowed and began to materialize in the air.

**Swoosh.**

The swiftly drawn symbols formed a pentagram, and within it, smaller symbols started to spin.

**Whoosh.**

With the flow of mana, a fierce blaze erupted from the magic circle.

It was the ‘Fire Storm,’ known as one of the most powerful spells in the 6th circle of magic.

Where the flames engulfed, orc bodies crumbled into ash.

Damian and Owen gasped in shock.

“What madness… Magic?!”

“What have you created?!”

They weren’t the only ones astonished.

Even Vulcan, locked in a fierce battle with Theo, widened his eyes and exclaimed,

“Magic! There shouldn’t be… any mages here!”

Yan smirked and tore another parchment.

This time, countless icy spears burst forth, raining down upon the orcs.

Turning to his companions, who watched in stunned silence, Yan said,

“Our secret weapon.”

* * *

The parchment’s true nature was a ‘Magic Scroll,’ invented during the heyday of the Mage Tower.

A disposable artifact, its creation technique vanished into history as the Mage Tower declined.

Yet, Yan discovered it within Momon’s subspace.

After persistent inquiry, Momon revealed the method of its creation.

It was an impossible task with current technology.

But with the time-transcending genius, the mage-scholar Isaac, it was worth an attempt.

Thus, Isaac led the charge, with Momon assisting, to research the Magic Scroll.

The initial trials were fraught with issues.

Mana-infused magic stones had become exceedingly rare, unlike the past, and the skill to inscribe magic circles onto parchment was lost.

However, Isaac’s brilliant ideas combined with Momon’s theories eventually led to the creation of the Magic Scroll.

Still, mass production remained a dream.

Substituting magic stones for magic crystals meant an enormous amount was needed for a single scroll.

And perhaps due to purity issues, the scrolls were usable for only about three days.

Moreover, unless a grand mage of Momon’s caliber personally inscribed the magic circles, the magic wouldn’t manifest.

Despite these challenges, Yan ordered the use of all remaining magic crystals in his domain to produce as many Magic Scrolls as possible.

And the scroll now in hand was the fruit of that labor.

* * *

Damian and Owen, tongues wagging with excitement, examined the Magic Scrolls allotted to them.

Then, with a gleam in their eyes:

“This is going to be fun!”

“To wield magic without ever learning it.”

They dashed towards the orc-infested area, tearing the parchment as they went.

**Boom! Boom! Boom!**

The magical barrage unleashed by the two decimated the orc ranks, visibly dwindling their numbers.

The orcs, overwhelmed by the relentless magic, could not muster the same fervor as before.

“I, the creator, cannot be outdone by them.”

Yan leaped from his spot, using the orcs’ heads as stepping stones, fervently tearing Magic Scrolls.

Storms of fire, spears of ice, blades of wind, and massive bolts of lightning steadily reduced the orc numbers.

Vulcan, witnessing this, hardened his expression and bellowed.

“Kraaack! Krucchi! Kraaaa!”

It was a command to close in and kill at all costs.

He would’ve loved to crush those rats himself, but…

“Looking away while I’m still here?”

**Clang!**

The young monster before him made that impossible.

Theo, known as the dwarf Owen’s lieutenant, possessed a skill level that was astonishing.

‘At least a third-grade level, to be on par with me…’

It was puzzling why such a talent remained a sub-legion commander rather than a legion commander.

And then.

**Crack!**

Vulcan shattered the ice blossoming under his feet with a hollow laugh.

For someone who appeared barely twenty, infusing mana with attributes was no small feat.

Vulcan swung his great axe, aiming for the ground where Theo stood.

**Crash!**

A large crater formed in the earth.

But there was no sign of Theo.

Grinding his teeth, Vulcan shifted his gaze towards the source of the mana.

**Thud!**

But Theo was quicker.

Appearing suddenly behind him, Theo plunged his sword into Vulcan’s abdomen.

Theo’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Size isn’t everything, after all.”

As he withdrew his sword, green blood gushed out like a fountain.

Whoosh!

* * *

Yan and his companions had used up most of their parchment.

Yet, the outcome was worth the effort.

The once-mighty orc army had been halved in number.

“Hey! Don’t you have any more of those?”

Owen seemed to have developed a taste for tearing magic scrolls, clamoring for more.

“Do you even know how much one of those costs?”

Yan retorted, carefully folding the remaining scrolls and tucking them away.

The orcs had scattered, approaching in disarray.

If they couldn’t be blasted by the hundreds, there was no need to waste precious magic scrolls.

As Yan drew his sword, Owen clicked his tongue and loaded his hand cannon.

“So, we’re on our own now?”

Damian nodded, drawing his shadow sword to its full length.

“Seems like it. But with these brutes around, I can’t even see Theo.”

“He’ll manage. You know what he’s like.”

“Everyone, take these.”

Yan pulled out two small pouches from his cloak and tossed them to Owen and Damian.

Owen tilted his head curiously, while Damian’s eyes sparkled.

“Is this the artificial elixir you made in your domain?”

“Yes. Take a handful if you feel your mana draining.”

Owen marveled at the pouch before stowing it away.

“Ho, your domain really has all sorts of wonders.”

“Enough chit-chat, let’s get moving.”

At Yan’s words, Damian and Owen’s gaze hardened.

Thud!

Damian was the first to leap into action.

With his shadow sword, he dashed through the orcs at breakneck speed.

Whoosh!

Shadow blades emerged from the darkness, slashing through the orcs.

They charged at Damian, fearless even of death, but…

Slash!

Not one could catch him; they were torn to shreds.

“Remarkable, as always,” Owen chuckled, watching Damian’s display.

But in terms of sheer brutality, he was no less than Damian.

Boom! Bang!

The bombardment from his hand cannon was powerful enough to pierce through the front line of orcs and crush those behind.

If Damian was a sharp awl, then Owen was a destructive hammer.

He charged at the orcs with a maniacal laugh.

Roar!

He grinned at the sight of the orc horde charging with a bloodcurdling scream and lit the fuse.

With his other hand, he reinforced his sword with a blade aura, slicing through the flesh of the orcs that came too close.

Boom!

Another explosion scattered orc bodies and green blood in all directions.

Yan clicked his tongue at the sight.

Both men were not just skilled in one-on-many fights; they were overwhelming.

Damian had already expanded his shadow, trapping thousands of orcs and unleashing havoc.

Owen, true to his title ‘War Smith,’ was waging a war on his own.

Yan smiled slyly.

“Can’t let them outdo me.”

He took his stance with Ascalon in hand.

Thanks to Damian and Owen, all orc eyes were on them.

Whooosh!

Yan stimulated his mana heart.

Mana flowed from it, passing through the moon and Mercury, filling him with an unprecedented sense of omnipotence.

Gone were the days when he couldn’t control it and his body would tremble.

The mana smoothly traveled up the mana rod and surged towards Ascalon.

When Ascalon was filled with more mana than a blade aura could hold, Yan’s eyes gleamed.

-Nothing can withstand the Dragon’s Claw.

“Dragon Fang.”

With Yan’s murmur, a tremendous force erupted from Ascalon.

He swung Ascalon in a straight line.

And then, an unbelievable scene unfolded.

Swoosh!

The sword force extended from Ascalon, targeting the heads of ten thousand orcs.

The orcs hit by the sword force had their heads severed from their bodies.

Green blood gushed from their headless trunks, dyeing the wasteland green.

Damian and Owen stopped in their tracks and let out a hollow laugh at the spectacle Yan had created.

“…Insane.”

“When did he grow so powerful?”

They never imagined a single strike could fell ten thousand orcs.

Unconsciously, they thought of one person.

Yan’s father and their leader.

The former supreme commander, Argon.

But that thought was fleeting as something rapidly approached them.

Recognizing it as a threat, Owen and Damian swiftly turned to face the incoming object.

“…Theo?!”

The object hurtling towards them was none other than Theo.

They rushed to catch him, quickly tending to his body.

“Hey, Theo! Are you conscious?”

Damian examined Theo’s body quickly.

While the rest of him was intact, his ribcage was grotesquely sunken.

Roar!

A ferocious roar echoed from afar.

Vulkan, his body dyed a deep red, was bellowing.

It was a power only the chosen among orcs could wield.

“…Berserk.”

“Madness.”

It was the very picture of berserker rage.