Revenge of the Iron-blooded Sword Hound

Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 380

Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 380

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 380: The Hound of Nouvellebag (4)

Before the staggering aura that emanated from Vikir,

Sakkuth stood frozen in place.

The aura was so thick that it seemed to crystallize in the eyes of the target, appearing like thorns.

From the elongated eyes of Sakkuth,

It was akin to a raging fire, consuming and tearing apart everything in its path, engulfing the whole world.

And slowly, the one emitting such intense vigor revealed themselves.

The hound that emerged was no ordinary dog.

A hunting dog. Not just any, but a hellhound, specialized in hunting down demons.

Within Vikir’s crimson pupils, the subdued figure of Sakkuth was reflected.

“That’s enough,” Vikir said calmly, yet within it lurked restrained violence as terrifying as hell itself.

Sakkuth, sensing it, took a step back.

Two years ago, he had picked a fight with Vikir and had been thoroughly beaten.

“You should know whether you’re a predator or prey and live fucking accordingly.”

It still felt like a toothache to think about the days spent pulling out nails embedded in his mouth after that incident.

But he couldn’t just bow down. If he ended up incarcerated, he would surely have to face a lot of time in Solitary.

Sakkuth growled, opening his mouth.

“What if I don’t? I’m already a mess. There’s nothing worse to become.”

“I know the address of Hell. If you insist, I could show you the way right now.”

“….”

Vikir nonchalantly opened his mouth.

But within that calm expression and casual tone, Sakkuth could sense the raw madness and violence lurking beneath.

Sakkuth couldn’t bring himself to speak further, knowing how untamed and violent Vikir truly was.

Vikir doesn’t lie.

If he says he’ll show him hell, he will indeed show it.

Having observed Vikir for the past two years, Sakkuth knew this well.

‘Crazy bastard. Why do his eyes look like that…?’

His face bore the typical appearance of a nobleman’s son, but within his gaze lay centuries of pent-up hatred and intensity, twisting and turning.

How ruthless and brutal must one be to possess such eyes?

Even for Sakkuth, who had committed countless illegal experiments and massacres against countless humans over the years, it was beyond imagination.

Suddenly—

Sakkuth glared at Vikir with bloodshot eyes.

Eventually, he spoke as if chewing out the words.

“I won’t forget what happened today. I’ll definitely retaliate.”

“If you can, go ahead and try. But you’d better do it quickly.”

Vikir brought up a topic that caught Sakkuth’s interest.

“I’ll be leaving this place today,” Vikir stated.

“What?” Sakkuth half-opened his mouth in disbelief at Vikir’s words.

Then, he started chuckling.

“Now that I think about it, you’re insane. Planning an escape from Nouvellebag?”

“….”

“Even ‘he’ couldn’t manage to escape. What makes you think you can…”

Before he could finish, Vikir laid down his cards.

“Why do you think escaping is impossible?”

“What?”

“Is that as far as your thoughts go?”

Sakkuth frowned at Vikir’s unexpected question, his face showing utter confusion.

Eventually, Vikir smiled slyly at Sakkuth.

“You may think you’re abandoned, but you’re not.”

“….?”

“It’s because I see potential in you.”

Vikir scanned Sakkuth with a sharp gaze.

“I’ve been watching you for the past two years. You may lack strength and resilience, but your stubbornness and initiative appeal to me. Your loyalty is also commendable.”

“Why are you spouting nonsense?”

“You’ll find out soon. After I escape from here.”

Sakkuth shook his head incredulously and then turned away.

“Just a worthless puppet to deal with. Stop babbling about escapes. I’ll make sure to kill you myself someday.”

But despite his words, a slight flicker of doubt appeared in Sakkuth’s eyes.

Vikir, with the keen sense of a seasoned hunter, didn’t miss the slight tremor in his pupils.

Thud!

Sakkuth quickly leaped away, disappearing beyond the rocky gorge, leaving behind a mist of tainted blood.

“…Quite the useful personality to exploit,” Vikir remarked.

Then, Vikir turned his head to examine the two guards lying unconscious on the ground.

Kirko, the mid level officert.

She was unconscious, a large wound on her forehead.

Big eyes, a sharp nose, a stubborn-looking mouth, a pale face as if she hadn’t seen sunlight, and long hair that reached her waist.

She had the typical beauty of an Imperial maiden. If it weren’t for the uniform and the sword, one might mistake her for a delicate lady from a noble household.

“Is she dead?” Vikir supported Kirko’s head and checked her pulse.

“Ugh…”

Kirko’s brows furrowed, and an unconscious groan escaped her lips. Though she continued to sweat profusely, her body temperature had stabilized, and there was a faint heartbeat. It seemed her life wasn’t in immediate danger.

‘Lucky woman,’ Vikir thought. With proper hemostasis and an extended rest period, she could likely recover without much trouble.

…The problem lay with Garam.

“Done for,” Vikir concluded at a glance. The relentless attack by Sakkuth had left his body beyond repair. His bones were powdered, piercing through his organs. Additionally, the internal pressure had surged, causing vital organs responsible for metabolism to rupture. His body temperature had skyrocketed abnormally due to contamination from Sakkuth’s toxic aura.

Of course, immediate transport to a temple for intensive treatment by high-ranking priests might save his life, but such hopes were unrealistic in Nouvellebag.

Death was Inevitable.

He would undoubtedly succumb to his injuries within minutes, amid excruciating agony as his nerves burned away.

Then, a feeble voice interrupted.

“Ar… y… here…?”

Both of Garam’s eyes had burst, rendering him blind. Despite shattered teeth and a severed tongue, he managed to speak.

Vikir stood silently beside Garam, listening to his final words.

His hand weakly reached out, as if grasping at the air, reminiscent of holding the hand of a loved one.

“I… wanted to… show… the outside world… to… her…”

The testament didn’t flow elegantly like in comics or novels, ending abruptly with a hollow, lifeless voice, as Garam’s body slumped completely.

“…”

Vikir stood beside Garam’s lifeless body for a while, then kneeled, closing his vacant eyes.

“Such a pity. I didn’t wish for this outcome,” Vikir said, his focus solely on the insignia, name tag, rank badge, and military boots attached to Garam’s uniform.

However, the situation escalated more urgently than anticipated, ultimately resulting in this outcome. While Vikir didn’t directly cause this outcome, the bitterness of it couldn’t be avoided.

“Thanks to your distraction, that woman survived. So go peacefully to a better place,” Vikir used his ability “Drought” on Garam’s corpse. The unique ability of the bloodsoaked Jade flower, it removed the blood and moisture from his body. The bloodstains dried up and turned to dust. Flesh, bones, and organs, all shriveled and twisted, slowly crumbled away.

Tsutsutsutsu…

Soon, the desiccated remains of Garam, now reduced to bone dust, were carried away by the wind. The dreams and spirits of a young man from the surface now wandered in the depths of this distant land, unable to escape this prison even in death, a fate shared by both prisoners and wardens alike.

Clang!

As badges, insignias, and rank badges fell to the ground, Vikir carefully gathered Garam’s uniform, boots, and insignias.

Then, a realization struck him.

“…!”

Vikir raised his head.

From beyond the mist-filled gorge, the clamor of approaching soldiers echoed.

Thud-thud-thud-thud…

It seemed reinforcements were arriving.

Vikir glanced around.

Around the collapsed Kirko, whose body temperature had seemingly flown away with the wind, the footsteps of the departed Garam sounded.

The wind, swirling for a while, brushed past Kirko’s hair, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead before vanishing beyond the flames.

“…”

Vikir offered a brief moment of contemplation towards the direction the wind had blown.

Then, with Garam’s clothing tucked under his arm, he disappeared to the other side of the gorge.

He had collected all the necessary materials; there was no need to delay any longer.

Escape.

Tonight, the hound would leave this place.

The plan was perfect.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]