Cozy Isekai Craftsman, ch 18

Long chapter here!

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Joe went back to the house the next day, carrying with him a sack full of meat - all of it lamb. Hopefully, the hellhound liked lamb. But the meat wasn't his special weapon. It was the other sack, full of spices, that he had brought with him.

As he sauntered along the lane, he met with approving nods and welcoming waves from the villagers. Their cheerful chatter and the sound of their children's laughter only served to lighten his mood further.

One of them said, "Hey, you're gonna beat up that ghost for us?"

Joe chuckled, embarrassed. He said, "Hopefully, I'll score and we'll get back to her house in a couple of hours."

As Joe meandered through the town, he was stopped at every turn by curious onlookers, their eyes wide with wonder and their mouths forming silent questions. Word had spread like wildfire through the narrow streets, but it seemed that none of them had realized that he was up against a hellhound instead of a mere ghost. Joe chose to keep his lips sealed on the matter, relishing in the idea of being the only one in the know.

Lucas and Rick, the only two he had shared the truth with, must have been of the same mindset. They had kept it all hush-hush, unwilling to stir the pot and incite panic amongst the townsfolk. After all, most of them thought that hellhounds were wicked demons sent to punish the sinners.

When Joe finally reached his humble abode, he could hear the hellhound's frantic footsteps from halfway up the stairs to the attic.

Here, he could tell that the hellhound was hurried and probably frightened.

Thomas yawned as if waking from a nap. He said, "Oh, we're back here at it again. Does that?"

"Alrighty then. Let's put my culinary skills to the test," Joe declared, a twinkle in his eye as he reached into the sack and plucked out a juicy hunk of lamb. He flung it up into the darkness of the attic, and the sound of soft padding footsteps and guttural growls echoed down the stairs.

But to his disappointment, there was no satisfying crunching of bones or smacking of lips that signaled the hellhound's enjoyment. Instead, the growling only grew louder and more ferocious, making Joe take a step back in apprehension.

"Well, that didn't go as planned," he muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Time to switch things up."

He plunged his hand back into the sack, sifting through the jumbled spices until he found what he was looking for - a small container of fragrant cardamom. Using just the tip of his finger, he coated a tiny chunk of meat with the aromatic spice and tossed it up into the attic.

Once again, the infernal growls of the hellhound echoed through the air, sending shivers down Joe's spine. But there was a new twist to the beast's menacing growls this time - a hint of something almost...pleasurable? Joe leaned in, his ears straining to catch any sound of the monster feasting on its latest victim. But all he could hear was the gentle rustling of the beast's fur brushing against the wooden floor.

The growling continued, but there was no sound of gnashing teeth or tearing flesh to be heard. Joe's heart raced as he tried to make sense of the strange noises emanating from the hellhound's lair. What was it doing in there? Was it toying with its prey, savoring the fear and anticipation before finally striking?

Despite his fear, Joe couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity building within him. He inched closer to the entrance of the lair, his eyes fixed on the darkness beyond. As the growling continued, he strained to hear any clue as to what the beast was up to. But all he heard was the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest.

Thomas chuckled and said, "Seems like it doesn't like your cooking."

Joe frowned. "Either that or it doesn't like cardamom. I'm gonna try the other spices."

Over the next half hour, Joe tried different spices and different pieces of meat until he was almost completely out.

"Looks like you got one shot left. You tried every spice, having two and even a couple of combinations," Thomas said.

"Chermside, what if I use sulfur? I've heard some on the first floor," Joe said.

Thomas laughed. "That's not gonna work. They excrete sulfur from their skin. They're not going to eat that."

"Oh, don't you have any other ideas, Mr. 'I'm a good jillion years old and I know everything, and Joe sucks at life'?" Joe retorted.

Thomas preened at the compliments and said, "While I agree with everything that you said, I would like to inform you that it does come from the same realm as the demons. But not much is known about that realm. The fact that it's here is incredibly confusing, and even someone with as much knowledge as I have - which is very little - knows little about it. I've only ever seen hellhounds in drawings and books, never one myself. I always thought there would be bigger and more ferocious ones.”

Joe sighed, "Maybe it's a baby?"

"The fact that it hasn't attacked you yet and bitten you is a good sign. It seems to trust you enough not to kill you. We could have chased you out of here," Thomas said.

"Maybe, or it was too weak," Joe replied. There were still growls from upstairs, but they weren't as loud or continuous as before.

Joe felt he had hit a wall. "I was pretty sure this would work," he said, dejected.

Then an idea came to him. "Well, I tried putting scents into the meat, but I remember reading an article in my original world that dogs were incredibly good at smelling and could smell who was human from the other side of a door."

Thomas said, "It makes sense. If it's within the olfactory range of most dogs, I don't see why it wouldn't apply to a hellhound."

Joe said, "Maybe it doesn't eat the meat because it smells me, a human."

With trembling fingers, Joe carefully opened the sachet, the pungent aroma of lamb meat wafting up to meet his nose. He scanned the list of properties, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to find something that could confirm his suspicions about the hellhound's supernatural senses.

Finally, his eyes landed on a property that made his blood run cold. "Scent of human: 0.1." It was a tiny fraction, barely noticeable to the average person. But to a creature with senses as keen as the hellhound's, it could be the difference between life and death.

Joe's mind raced as he considered his next move. Would the hellhound be able to detect his scent, even at such a low level? He had to know for sure. With a deep breath, he removed a small piece of meat from the sachet and carefully tossed it upstairs.

The silence was deafening as he waited for a response. Then, a low growl rumbled through the air, sending chills down his spine. The hellhound had detected his scent, even at such a small level.

So Joe removed it and tested it by throwing a small pebble that had his scent upstairs. The hellhound growled and continued to growl.

Joe said, "I think it worked."

He tossed the last piece of lamb that no longer had his scent and was returned with silence. It was a long, tense moment, but he was greeted with the sound of a couple of steps and then the munching of food.

"It worked," Joe said. "I think."

"Be careful," Thomas said.

With each step Joe took up the staircase, the sound of chewing grew louder, his heart pounding in his chest. He paused, listening intently for any sign of the hellhound's growls. But there was only silence. Tentatively, he took another step, his footfall echoing through the empty house.

Suddenly, the chewing stopped. Joe froze, his breath caught in his throat. But there was no growl, no sign of the beast's displeasure. He took a few more cautious steps, his eyes fixed on the darkness ahead.

And then he saw it. The hellhound was there, tearing into the lamb meat he had thrown up earlier. Joe's heart sank as he realized that they would have to abandon the other pieces of meat, the ones that still carried his scent. He had to find a way to remove his presence from them, or risk being detected by the beast.

With a sinking feeling, he watched as the hellhound sniffed the air, its keen senses picking up on his scent. But then, something strange happened. The beast began to eat the other pieces of meat, the ones he had carefully removed his scent from. It seemed to be getting used to his presence, growing less and less hostile with each passing moment.

Still, he couldn't take any chances. Every time he got too close, the hellhound would growl warningly, a reminder that it was still a deadly predator. Joe knew he had to tread carefully if he wanted to make it out of there alive.

Joe's heart was pounding in his chest as he took the final step forward, his hand outstretched towards the hellhound. The beast had finished its meal and was now staring at him with its piercing red eyes, growling ominously.

But Joe refused to back down. He knew that he had to show the hellhound that he wasn't a threat, that he was there to help. Slowly, he inched closer, his hand trembling as it neared the beast.

And then something amazing happened. The hellhound began to sniff at his hand, its hot breath washing over his skin. Joe could feel the weight of its gaze, watching him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

For what felt like an eternity, he stood there, patiently waiting for the hellhound to make its move. He treated it like a child, speaking to it softly and reassuringly, hoping to earn its trust.

And then, finally, he was rewarded. The hellhound let out a few sniffs, its wings flapping once before disappearing into thin air. Joe watched in awe as the creature transformed before his very eyes, its supernatural abilities on full display.

For a moment, he forgot about the danger that lurked in the darkness, lost in the wonder of this magical creature. But he knew that he couldn't let his guard down, not even for a moment. The hellhound was still a predator, and he was still its prey. But for now, they had a fragile truce, and Joe was determined to make the most of it.

Joe took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, hoping to calm his racing heart. He had warned Thomas not to make a sound, not wanting to startle the fearsome hellhound that lurked in the attic. Joe had heard stories about the monstrous creature, with its fiery eyes and razor-sharp teeth, and he didn't want to take any chances.

As Joe stood frozen in place, the hellhound approached him with a wet nose and nuzzled his hand. Joe's heart leapt in his chest, but he managed to stay still. Suddenly, the hellhound playfully nipped at Joe's hand, causing him to yelp in surprise. He pulled back his hand, expecting to see blood, but he found no mark. To his amazement, the hellhound stuck out its tongue and wagged its tail like a friendly pup.

Joe couldn't believe his eyes. This was not the fearsome beast he had heard about in ghost stories. With his heart pounding in his chest, he slowly extended his hand again, but the hellhound just walked around him and headed down the stairs.

"What the heck?" Joe said.

Thomas spoke up. "I think it's telling you that it's okay to follow it."

Joe asked, "You can speak hellhound?"

Thomas said, "No, I'm just using my eyes, you idiot. Go follow it, boy."

Joe did as he was told, walking down the stairs and being led by the small diminutive creature. Now that he got a good look at it, it seemed to move in an arrogant manner. It was hard to describe, but that was the only way he could think about it. It was a poodle, after all, and it seemed to hold its nose up like a snooty rich kid.

Occasionally, the hellhound would look back at Joe while slowly walking through the second floor, smelling different things. It raised its hind leg as if to pee on one of the posts, and Joe said, "Please don't do that. This is my house. I can clean it, but I'd rather not do that in respect to other people's property."

He always talked to dogs like they were humans, and most of the time they ignored him. But this dog blinked at him a couple of times, lowered its hind leg, and looked away as if offended.

Joe felt his jaw slack and said, "Do you think it understood me?"

Thomas said, "I don't know. We shall see. Again, not much is known about them."

Joe said, "Okay," and started walking down the stairs, and the hellhound followed. He said to the hellhound, "I don't know what to call you. So I'm just going to make up a name. What about Spot?"

The hellhound growled.

"Okay, so it definitely could understand him," Joe said. "Okay, Fido?"=

The hellhound growled even louder. Joe tried a couple of other dog names, and then he gave up. So he settled on a human name. He said, "What about Isabel?"

The hellhound didn't growl at him this time, blinked a couple of times, and looked up in a way as if Joe's presence didn't need to be acknowledged.

Joe rolled his eyes and said, "Okay, fine. I guess Isabel it is," walked out of the door, where the dog kept walking, and led them to the sheriff's office.

Luckily, Lucas was there. He was busy drinking some tea and reading a book. He looked up and took off his glasses.

"And you found our ghost," Joe said. "Sort of. It ended up being a hellhound." To Joe's surprise, Lucas did not reach for his saber on his hilt.

Instead, he left and said, "Looks like Thomas told you that they're not demons."

Joe said, "Yeah. Do you have experience with them?"

He hoped Lucas did, and so maybe he could pass it off to the Sheriff. Lucas shook his gloved hands. He said, "No, but you hear a thing or two in my line of business and a lot of stories. This one looks pretty young and seems to like you well enough."

Isabella gave a small yip at Lucas with a disapproving tone.

Lucas smiled and put up a pacifying hand. "Sorry, Mr. or Miss, didn't mean to offend you."

The dog looked away and harrumphed.

Joe said, "Well, I think it's all their mystery. Mrs. Corden can go back to her house now. Although I do have to clean up the bones. Forgot about that since I was so busy dealing with our ghost dog hellhound thing problem?"

Lucas said, "Great. Thank you very much. The city thanks you for protecting it from vile evildoers and cute little puppies. Job like that?"

And he said, "You're gonna take it, right?"

Lucas went back to his book and put his glasses back on, as if Joe didn't ask the question. Joe repeated himself. "You're going to take it, right?" This time, more emphatically.

Lucas said, "Oh, no. I think you'll be fine if you take it yourself."

Joe said, "Hey, you asked me to get rid of the ghost. I got rid of your ghost. Mrs. Gordon's fine to return home now."

Joe said, "You're right. We thank you very much. And what I'm looking at is not a ghost. But you did find a dog, and it is your responsibility now."

Joe let out a deep sigh, feeling a mixture of excitement and apprehension. He couldn't believe he was arguing about whether or not to keep a hellhound, but the idea of having a pet in this strange world was intriguing. However, this was no ordinary dog like the ones he knew from his Homeworld. Those dogs were full of love, always eager to please their humans and shower them with affection.

The hellhound, on the other hand, seemed distant and unapproachable. It didn't exude warmth or love like a typical dog, but Joe couldn't shake off the feeling that it was watching him, waiting for something. Despite its fearsome reputation, the hellhound had yet to harm him, except for that playful nibble.

Joe realized that it was now his responsibility to take care of this enigmatic creature. He couldn't blame anyone else for their predicament, and he knew that he had to step up and be the one to lead. With a sense of determination, he looked at the hellhound and vowed to figure out its mysteries and gain its trust.

As Joe reached out his hand, the hellhound hesitated for a moment before finally sniffing it. Joe held his breath, unsure of what would happen next, but the hellhound simply looked at him with its piercing eyes and turned around, indicating that it was ready to follow him.

On top of that, the dog trusted him. He sighed again, more exasperated than the previous time, and he said, "Fine, I'll take care of it."

Lucas smiled, still reading his book.

He said, "I'm sure you will. Congratulations on the new dog."

Joe left the sheriff's office while Thomas cackled from behind.

He said, "I can't believe this whole thing with a ghost was a hellhound. And now it's become your pet. Don't tell me you're a demon. You somehow enslaved this hellhound?"

Joe said, "Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. Whatever you say." They went back to the mansion, and the hellhound Isabella followed them through a couple of people who remarked how cute the poodle was. Isabella didn't seem to mind getting the compliments.

Joe said to the dog, "Well, this is my home. I guess this is yours. At least for now. Unless you want to leave."

Isabella blinked at him a couple of times, as if he was an idiot.

Joe said, "Okay, I guess you're not going to leave." He showed her the first floor. It was odd talking to the dog as if it were a person, and she clearly understood him. But he did it anyway.

He showed her the back and said, "This is a very sharp side. It's sharper than anything you've ever encountered. Please do not touch the end."

Isabella blinked at him a couple of times, clearly disinterested in what he had to say. Then Joe pointed to the backyard and said, "If you ever need to go to the bathroom, this is available. I'll try to make the doggie door soon, but for now, I'll leave the back door slightly open. The winds here are bad enough where it'll break, and you'll be able to go through the back door."

Joe watched as the small poodle looked at him with a bored expression before quickly turning away. He couldn't believe he was trying to engage with a dog, but there was something fascinating about this new world that he found himself in. Despite the dog's apparent lack of interest in him, he couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and amazement at the experience.

As Joe observed the poodle, he couldn't help but notice its air of superiority. It strutted around as if it owned the place, and its haughty demeanor made him feel a little uneasy. He wasn't used to dealing with such arrogance in the dogs of his Homeworld, where they were always eager to please their owners and shower them with affection.

Despite his misgivings, Joe found himself drawn to the poodle's unique personality. He couldn't deny that there was something captivating about its attitude and the way it carried itself. He knew that he had to work on gaining the dog's trust and making it feel comfortable around him.

Joe took a step closer to the poodle and spoke softly, hoping to grab its attention. To his surprise, the dog looked up at him with a curious expression, as if it were sizing him up. Joe couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction at the small breakthrough, knowing that it was the first step towards a potential friendship.

Thomas said, "I don't see why it follows you if it doesn't seem to like you."

Joe sighed and said, "That poor thing probably had been starving for who knows how long, days maybe weeks. That blood on the attic floor might not have been hers or might have been. That blood on the attic floor might not have been from the animals that she killed. They might have been hers. So the first person who showed her any kindness was me."

Thomas said, "Exactly. That's why she should grovel at your feet."

Joe laughed and said, "Kindness doesn't demand loyalty. She's probably still traumatized from living up there by herself. And remember, we didn't know, nobody knew that it was an attic until we popped that open. Mrs. Gordon probably didn't. And so that dog didn't know how to escape the attic except through that window. And if it could have escaped through the window again how it came in, she would have."

Thomas said, "It's a fair point. Good deductive reasoning. I'm definitely rubbing off on you."

Joe chuckled. He led Isabella up the stairs, and she hopped up each stairwater at a time, taking her time. He showed her the different guest rooms and avoided the office, not wanting to bring Thomas in there. He didn't know how Thomas would take it going back towards the office, but he was fairly certain it wouldn't make him feel good.

Thomas said, "It doesn't seem to be interested in any of the guest rooms."

Joe replied, "Yeah, you're right."

He went to his own bedroom and was about to plop onto the bed when something flew by him. Isabella had jumped into the air, glided, and plopped herself at the very center of the bed.

Joe was surprised and said, "Okay, I don't mind sharing."

He started walking toward the bed, but Isabella snapped at him with her sharp teeth. Joe took a step back and said, "Hey, listen, this is my bed. I don't know if you know that."

Isabella barked a few times, clearly saying that it was hers and not his. Joe took another step forward, but Isabella barked at him again, and Thomas laughed.

Joe stopped trying to get back on his bed and said, "Fine, fine, little miss princess. You can have it. I'm too tired to deal with it anyway."

Although he said he was complaining, he was actually pretty happy, and he didn't mind showing it on his face with a smile. Whatever Isabella had gone through, it had obviously been tough, but now she had found a comfortable and safe place to call her own, and Joe didn't want to disturb that any more than he already had.

He started backing out of the door and asked, "Do you want the door open or closed?"

The dog barked, and Joe realized he didn't speak dog. He asked again, "Do you want it closed?"

As he began to close the door, Isabella barked at him. Joe said, "Okay, open it is."

Joe's heart thudded loudly in his chest as he tiptoed away from the door, careful not to make a sound. He watched intently as she pranced around in circles, her tail wagging excitedly as she explored her new surroundings. He couldn't help but smile as she sniffed the bed a few times, her little nose twitching with curiosity.

Suddenly, she spun around and began chasing her tail, her ears flopping wildly as she playfully bounded around the room. Joe couldn't resist chuckling as he watched her silly antics.

But just as quickly as she started, she stopped and plopped down onto the soft carpet, her tiny body heaving as she let out a contented sigh. Joe's heart ached with tenderness as he gazed at her peaceful form, wondering what kind of hardships she had endured to make her so exhausted.

At the first sign of safety, Thomas said, "Looks like you're sleeping in the doghouse."

—

Isabella lay in the softest nest of materials she had ever felt. It was even softer than the furs of her parents.

Joseph Johnson, the human, paced outside the bedroom with a dish of spiced, cooked meat in his hands. He wanted Isabella's attention, but she remained disinterested and avoided drooling at the sight of the food.

Isabella was a hellhound, a powerful and noble beast from the demon realm. She couldn't let the human know how delicious she found his food, or else he might have power over her. How had she, a noble creature, ended up in a human's abode? And worse, the human didn't even realize the danger he was in by having her there.

He was an idiot.

Isabella watched as the Joseph Johnson human pushed the dish into the bedroom. He studied her intently before departing. She remained motionless, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to fade away. Once she was sure he was downstairs, she sprang off the bed and began nibbling on the food.

Her sensitive nose picked up on the scent of the cooked meat, but there were no discernible spices. As a hellhound, her sense of smell was far superior to those of any dog. Despite this, the food had an unexpected and exotic blend of spices that tantalized her taste buds.

Isabella had heard Joseph refer to himself as a famous soup and pebble wizard, which she didn't fully understand. The word wizard sounded similar to lizard, but she assumed it meant a sorcerer of some sort. As she munched on the food, it reminded her of home, the vast desert plains where she and her family reigned supreme, battling the snake warriors and fending off invasions from the monkey tribes.

However, everything changed when the demons grew too strong and numerous, invading her homeland. She shuddered, forcing the memories away. Isabella still couldn't quite recall how she had ended up in this strange place. She had felt some sort of rift in space before tumbling through a window and landing here. She had survived by eating pesky rats that thankfully were not diseased, until Joseph had rescued her.

A hellhound was not someone who needed rescuing. Isabella refused to allow herself to be in a vulnerable position that required rescue. What had happened was that the human Joseph had offered his services to her, becoming her servant. Yes, that was exactly what happened. As a result, she took the master bedroom, leaving the servant to live and sleep elsewhere.

Joseph fed her every day and gave her space to recover from her wounds, both physical and mental. For a human, he wasn't terrible. He even wore a wise and ancient ghost around his neck, who reminded him of his own foolishness. Isabella couldn't wait to reveal her ability to speak in a human tongue so she could laugh with the ghost at how stupid the Joseph human could be at times.

Isabella's sharp ears picked up on Joseph's departure from the large house, which he had apparently fixed up himself. She sighed, finishing her food, and began to make her way back to bed, but something made her stop in her tracks.

The pain of tumbling into the human world still pulsed through her muscles, but most of the wounds had healed. Hellhounds of the royal line always recovered quickly. Isabella walked to the balcony for a better view of the backyard. Joseph had spent time cleaning it up, making it suitable for a princess to reside in. It wasn't perfect yet, but it was getting there. She was tempted to reveal that she spoke their language so she could command him more effectively, but the time was not right. She trusted Joseph, but she did not know about the people around him. There was a Paladin of a warrior God nearby, Rick, but his divine energy was weak, not the powerful might one typically associated with a Paladin. Isabella wondered why he was hiding his power. Additionally, there was a sorceress in the town, whose potent sorcery she could smell everywhere.

Isabella had observed the Lucas human, known as a sheriff, who claimed to uphold human law. Despite his title, his identity remained a mystery. He resembled a general, bearing scars on his wrists as proof of his military history. Isabella noticed that he lacked a legendary weapon, unlike any general of his stature. He moved with the ease of a seasoned veteran, displaying too much balance to be anything but.

Her mind pondered why the Joseph human, a feeble being, held respect from such powerful individuals. This thought intrigued Isabella, causing her to remain present despite having no need for Joseph's help. Isabella had a name of her own, spoken in her native tongue, that humans found difficult to pronounce. However, she did not mind going by the name Isabella, which Joseph had given her during her stay.

Isabella refused to allow humans to butcher her true name, and they did not possess the authority, power, or status to address her by her royal name. She sniffed the air and detected a new, unfamiliar accent.

The aroma caused her fur to rise slightly in anticipation.

Isabella detected a presence in her territory.

In the tall grass, a gray old tabby cat emerged, its reflection shining in the morning sunlight. The intruder strolled around the yard, sampling different plants and grass and marking various areas of the land. Isabella scowled. She could not permit an invader to enter her kingdom. As a princess, she would not allow it, even if she were injured.

With determined strides, Isabella left the bedroom, making her way to the backyard from the second floor. She had to exert herself, leaping and pulling the lever of the door handle to open it, but she finally reached her destination. Although the cat was not in plain sight, Isabella used her sense of smell to locate it. The tabby had positioned itself in a sun-drenched patch of the grassy backyard, making no effort to hide.

Isabella approached the tabby cat and barked to alert it of the intrusion.

The feline opened one eye lazily, yawned, and returned to slumber.

Isabella's fury mounted at the cat's disregard for her warning. She took a step forward, barking deeply and menacingly, indicating that if the cat refused to leave, she would tear it apart. As a hellhound and a member of the royal line, Isabella possessed strength several times greater than that of any ordinary dog. She could confront a giant bear or even a lion without fear.

Yet the cat before her continued to lay in the grass, opening its eyes and blinking, conveying its lack of ill intentions before closing them again. It was…disinterested?

For some reason, Isabella found herself angrier at this puny being’s apathy rather than the appropriate fear or even disdain. How dare it not recognize her station and he was nothing more than a simple backcountry house cat?

Isabella walked around the old gray tabby cat, but it didn't appear to acknowledge her. Once more, the cat didn't care about her frustration and contempt. She wanted to make sure it paid attention to her, so she took a swipe at its nose, but only intended a light hit. If she tried harder, she could have killed it, but she didn't want to deal with the blood since she didn't have human-like thumbs to help her clean up. Isabella didn't want Joseph, the human, to think of her as a threat, so she tried to appear non-threatening. However, right as her paw almost made contact with the cat's nose, the feline opened one of its eyes and casually brushed her claws away.

The cat's hit was gentle, but it was perfectly timed and aimed, diverting her claws to the side.

Isabella muttered under her breath and made another attempt at the cat. She felt a surge of frustration as the cat opened its eye and slapped her away once more. She decided to attack it with half of her strength this time, but every time she took a swipe, the cat effortlessly batted her claws away with impeccable precision and timing.

Despite remaining in its sunny grass spot, the cat's speed was impressive.

Isabella couldn't tell how long she kept trying to attack, but she soon found herself out of breath. Her muscles were sore from tensing up in her anger, not from the difficulty of the exercise

She muttered to the cat, "Who are you to defy a royal member of the hellhound?"

The feline opened its eye again, blinked as if it were a wink, and drifted back to sleep.

Isabella was left speechless. She didn't know what to do next. She could never have imagined that a simple house cat from a human country town would deflect her attacks so effortlessly. Since entering the human world and leaving her demonic dimension, Isabella had grown significantly weaker. She searched within herself to confirm whether her power had depleted or weakened at all.

Ever since Isabella entered the rift, she felt a sudden surge of power. However, she was still unstable and recovering. Even so, her strength could easily take out a bear with just a few swipes. So, how could a mere housecat deflect all her attacks with such ease?

This time, the cat opened both eyes, licked its paws, yawned, and looked at Isabella as if noticing her for the first time. It meowed mockingly, and Isabella's fur bristled in response. She had never felt so disgraced in her life. She was just relieved that her parents were not present to witness this humiliation.

Her muscles tensed, ready to attack the cat once again, but the old gray tabby yawned and stood up.

It spoke in the language that all animals understood, not in the human tongue. Its voice was aged, soothing, and bored with her. "Why are you attacking me?" it asked.

Isabella growled at the cat and retorted, "This mansion belongs to the human Joseph Johnson, and therefore, it belongs to me as well."

The cat purred with laughter and replied, "Your human owns nothing. This house has been in the family of humans Ava and Emily for generations. Your human is just a guest, and so are you."

Isabella almost retorted at the cat's statement, but stopped herself. She remembered hearing conversations between the host human and the ghost, Thomas, attached to his necklace. Thomas had talked about the house's history and its previous owners, Ava and Emily, who technically owned it. Isabella became more heated and embarrassed.

Her wings behind her flapped open but quickly curled back up as she took a step back. "That can't be true," she said. "The human Joseph Johnson brought me back to this abode. I own him, and therefore, I own this house."

The cat cackled wickedly. "You may own Joseph Johnson, but he owns nothing. Both of you are guests in my kingdom of Lockwood.”

Isabella puffed up her chest. "I am a princess of the royal house of hellhounds."

The cat dismissed her words with a flick of his paw. He looked away from her, as if looking for anything else in the world that could be more interesting than this pitiable conversation. But Isabella knew that gesture. Predators only looked away from prey when they did not feel threatened.

Isabella found herself cowering in front of the cat, despite there being no power in his gesture. He moved his paws with absolute authority, dismissing everything she had to say. She had presumed the old cat did not know who she was, but she had not taken a second to think that she may not know who she was dealing with.

"You claim to be the king of this town Lockwood," she said hesitantly.

The cat stood haughtily on his haunches, proud, strong, aged, and wise. He licked the back of his paw once again, his eyes squeezing with self-gratification. "I am no king. I am the Emperor. I own the human who many call Old Lady Corden or Mrs. Corden. All rats fall under my paw. All cats and dogs sleep in my shadows, but only with my permission." He paused. "Now if you dare to challenge my authority, I will allow you to try it again. But only once, for I've shown you enough mercy."

Isabella's mind raced with a thousand thoughts while her heart pounded against her chest. The old gray tabby cat before her seemed like any other house cat, with matted and dull fur. But he spoke with the eloquence of royalty and deflected her attacks with ease. It was as if he was playing a game.

Then, Isabella remembered the people who surrounded Joe. There was Rick, a Paladin with a faint but distinct power that she could smell. Somewhere in the alleys of this town lurked a sorcerer she had yet to meet. Finally, there was Lucas, a human who looked like he could take down a demon with the right weapon.

Lockwood, the town she found herself in, was not as ordinary as it seemed.

Isabella's head bowed in submission, without her even realizing it. She knocked her forehead on the grass. "Great Emperor of Lockwood, I apologize for challenging your authority. You are correct. I am a guest in your land. Please allow me to stay in this building with my human, Joseph Johnson," she said.

Joseph stared at her for a long time, as if contemplating something important. Then, he circled around, chasing his tail before curling up and falling asleep.

Isabella lifted her head from the ground, relieved that the emperor of Lockwood would let her stay as long as she didn't cause any trouble. She remembered his scent so she could avoid him as much as possible in the future. The last thing she wanted was to anger the local Emperor.

Backing away slowly, Isabella turned and hurried back upstairs to her master bedroom. There, she snuggled into the nest of soft blankets and mimicked the emperor of Lockwood, closing her eyes and letting sleep take over.

–

John, Bryan, and Niamh crouched behind the bushes in the backyard of the mansion. They saw the dog Mister Joe said he found the other day. It was cute, like a little poodle. The dog opened the back door on its own and started barking at Old Lady Corden’s really old tabby cat. The three kids watched with great interest.

Bryan grabbed John's shoulder tightly and seemed more excited than John had ever seen him before.

John knew why.

Bryan had wanted a dog since he was a baby. He had hinted to Mom and Dad many times, but they didn't listen because Bryan was too nice.

John had also tried to ask for a dog, but Mom and Dad still said no. John was pretty sure he was the closest to getting a dog because he was the one who was punished with no dinner for begging and throwing a tantrum. He didn't bother asking for a dog anymore because Mom had said they didn't want to take care of another mouth to feed. Despite this, all three of them were excited to watch the dog and cat.

John asked Niamh, "Mr. Joe brought that dog back, right? But he doesn't own it?"

Niamh was staring at the dog with longing, but she tried to act cool. She nodded and said, "Yeah, but I don't think the dog likes it here. Mr. Joe said she won't even let him pet her."

John was surprised and said, "Really? But Mr. Joe is so nice."

Bryan spoke up. He said, "Being nice as a human is different than being nice as an animal. Animals have different rules."

John thought about it for a moment and remembered that Bryan had been speaking with the elves a lot lately in their dreams. They had taught him about the ways of the woods and how to talk to different animals. If anyone knew about animals, it was Bryan.

Still, John wasn't convinced. He said, "Do you think we should go out there right now and see if the hound...if the dog will want to be our dog?"

Both Bryan and John looked to their sister. She looked back and thought about it for a second, then shook her head.Niamh said, "I don't think we should do anything without Mr. Joe's permission, even though he doesn't own the dog. It's still here at his place."

John crossed his arms. He didn't like the answer, but he knew she was the smartest out of the three of them, most of the time. He just wished she was wrong about this. Still, he kept his mouth shut. Bryan seemed to be frustrated too. He said, "Well, John, we could try to at least talk to the dog. I know a couple of words animals speak."

Niamh patted Bryan's back and said, "You started learning from the elves only four dreams ago. And now, you think you know enough to talk to a dog?"

Bryan blushed and turned away his gaze. He responded, "No, but I do know how to say 'leaf' and 'poop'."

John chuckled, "Poop, that's funny.

Bryan smiled and added, "The elves don't find it funny. They think poop is sacred; that it feeds the land. But poop is just poop.”

John thought about a bunch of powerful elves praying to a giant pile of poop. The idea was so ridiculous. He laughed so hard, he fell on his back, kicking and laughing.

Bryan burst into laughter too, but Niamh had other ideas. Instead of joining in, she extended her fingers and began to tickle John. John got angry and tried to push her away, but she was too strong for him.

Despite his ability to defeat bad guys in their dreams, he couldn't overpower Niamh. As she continued to tickle and hold him down, John grew increasingly agitated. Between gasps of laughter, he begged, "Niamh, please stop! I hate tickles!"

Niamh, the big bad guy that she was, ignored him.

John was grateful that Bryan was nearby. Bryan intervened and pulled Niamh away, allowing John to catch his breath. His laughter died down, and his chest and stomach ached. He stood up and pointed at Niamh, saying, "Not fair. You agreed to no tickle fights for a month!"

Niamh folded her arms and replied, "It has been a month, thirty days."

John began counting on his fingers and realized she was correct. "You should have told me," he said.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Why tell you when I can ambush you, bro?"

Bryan chimed in, "Mr. Joe's dog went back inside, but Mrs. Corden's cat is still outside, sleeping. I think they had an argument."

The three of them peered through the bushes and spotted Mrs. Corden's gray, old tabby cat basking in the sunlight. Niamh commented, "How old is that cat? He's been around forever."

Bryan replied, "Even Emily said Mrs. Corden's cat was there even before they were born. Do cats even live that long?"

Niamh shrugged and said, "I don't know, but that's the meanest cat I've ever seen. I'm surprised it didn't beat up Mr. Joe's dog."

Bryan frowned and replied, "That wouldn't be nice."

John shook his head and agreed, "Not nice at all, especially for our future dog."

Niamh grunted and said, "I know you want a dog, but we can't bring it up to mom and dad right now. We have to wait for the right time."

John grew impatient and said, "But now is the perfect time! Let's go inside and show it how much we can hug it! We can bring it home to mom and dad and they can see how much it likes us."

Niamh silenced him with a glare and said, "No, it's not the right time. I promise when the time comes, we'll know what to do."

Bryan nodded in agreement, and John sighed, "Okay, you're always right about these things."

Niamh nodded, satisfied, and said, "Alright, let's head back home and finish our chores before dad comes back, or we’ll be in more trouble."

John said, "Good idea. Let's go."

So the three of them hurried home, sneaking through their neighbors' backyards to avoid being seen by the adults.