ed from red cacti provided by the grateful minotaurs.

Reaching the hellhounds' lair, Brutols encountered an environment filled with the stench of decaying corpses and animal entrails, a stark contrast to the minotaurs' hospitality. Though starving, he refused the revolting offerings, maintaining his standards even in desperation.

Most hellhounds were away hunting, giving Brutols a prime chance to practice and diminish their numbers. Their strong fire resistance and calculated tactics required careful strategy, testing Brutols’ pyrokinesis abilities and offering an invaluable training ground. 

With determination to learn and lessen the hellhounds' menace, Brutols prepared for a unique confrontation, envisioning every battle as another step toward mastering his extraordinary powers and achieving his goal.

Chapter 8: Journey Through Hell (2)

“Hooowl! Hooowl!” The Hellhounds began their frenzied howls, filled with fear and hostility. Brutols could clearly sense their terror and enmity but merely smirked contemptuously—he didn’t even feel it was worth the effort to smirk but did so anyway. Without hesitation, he employed his ultimate weapon, catching the Hellhounds completely off guard. These unfortunate creatures had no inkling of the horror standing before them; they mistakenly assumed Brutols was merely some rare wild creature. What they didn't understand was Brutols’ white flames had the power to destroy worlds. Despite their strong fire resistance, honed over countless years in this infernal place, they were no match for Brutols' assault.

The white flames scorched the Hellhounds' black hides, causing them immense agony. Yet Brutols paid no heed, continuing his relentless attacks, like a machine gun firing incessantly. Despite their remarkable fire resistance, the Hellhounds could not withstand his onslaught. The flames pierced their blackened skins, revealing red flesh that quickly charred and began to emit the aroma of roasting meat. But Brutols had no intention of indulging in this flesh; it would have incinerated ordinary meat to vapor by now.

The Hellhounds, despite their fearsome nature, found Brutols’ attacks unbearable. Though wild animals, they possessed a certain degree of cognition, clearly unwilling to engage such a formidable foe. They fled their filthy lair, which pleased Brutols as he had no desire to ruin his expensive clothes bought in the previous town.

Exiting the lair, the Hellhounds seemed invigorated, taking advantage of the open space to launch attacks from various angles. But Brutols had no intention of engaging in prolonged combat. Opting for a strategy of rapid elimination, Brutols swiftly turned the Hellhounds into charred remains with his white flames. These remains, rich in minerals, might someday become oil reserv

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