The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 101: Longing (1)



Chapter 101: Longing (1)

Chapter 101: Longing (1)

Boom!

A thunderous noise, as if a balloon burst, echoed through the disaster-stricken area.

For a moment, Vikir felt his sanity snap. A tremendous shock coursed through his entire body.

However, the seasoned hunting dog managed to narrowly escape the brink of death once again. He clung to his severed consciousness thread and endured the impact of the fall with gritted teeth.

Amidst the chaos, he raised his head and assessed his body. At least, it seemed like his limbs were still intact.

Even through the agony, Vikir let out a sigh of relief. Knowing that his external body was intact, it was time to check his internal injuries.

…Surprisingly, his internal condition was better than he expected.

His skull was cracked open, every rib was shattered, and every other bone was fractured. Both legs were bent in odd directions, muscles, organs, and blood vessels were ripped apart, but it stopped short of total destruction.

For an ordinary person, these injuries would be enough to kill several times over. However, for Vikir with his otherworldly regenerative abilities, they were manageable injuries.

“…That was close.”

Vikir checked the massive cushion that he had fallen onto.

It was the decaying corpse of the “Fog Lizard”, which had been filled with gas due to the mosquitoes that had eaten away at its bones, leaving only soft flesh and organs.

When Vikir was climbing the precipice, this unfortunate Fog Lizard was alive, but it seemed to have died while Vikir was fighting Madam on the mountaintop.

The Fog Lizard’s corpse had decomposed, causing gas to accumulate inside it. When Vikir fell on top of it, the gas had exploded like a balloon.

Naturally, this didn’t mean that all the shock had been mitigated. Even when falling into the water, there was still an impact.

Despite the lingering pain, Vikir managed to sit up.

“Still, I’m lucky there were no bones left in the Fog Lizard.”

If the Fog Lizard’s corpse had solid bones inside, Vikir would have suffered an even greater shock from colliding with it.

Fortunately, the mosquitoes that ate the Fog Lizard’s bones left nothing behind, allowing Vikir to narrowly escape with his life.

However, one issue remained—the overpowering stench.

The Fog Lizard’s corpse had exploded due to the fall, scattering gas, putrefied organs, and blood all over the place.

The stench was bone-chilling.

The creature was already emitting a repugnant odor as a Fog Lizard, and now, with the addition of putrefaction, the smell transcended imagination.

If Vikir were to leave this place, he might have to spend several days in a bathhouse just to get rid of the stench.

…But that was not the primary concern at the moment.

Vikir had something else to check first.

He turned his gaze to a sturdy rocky area in the distance.

And on top of it lay a sprawling mound of flesh, now turned into a bloody mess.

Madam, the ruler of the mountains, as powerful as she was, apparently couldn’t withstand the impact of the fall off the cliff.

“Well, she did suffer significant injuries during the attack on the Ballak’s village.”

Her entire exoskeleton had been shattered, her ribs, muscles, internal organs, and blood vessels had burst, and many of her legs were bent in strange directions.

However, surprisingly, Madam was still alive.

She managed to half-rise, trembling as she struggled to stand.

Beneath her, her mangled internal organs spilled out.

“…….”

Vikir slowly extended his steps towards Madam. Madam, Just like Aheuman, would surely feel fear when confronted with the impending shadow of death so close.

Madam trembled as she met Vikir’s crimson eyes, her entire body quaking. From deep within her bones, or rather her exoskeleton, was an overwhelming emotion—pure, unadulterated fear, 100% fear.

“…Are you scared?”

[…]

“Are you also afraid of death?”

Vikir twisted his dried-up lips into a dry smile, his mouth coated in dried blood.

Inside her shattered bones and fragments of her brain, Madam felt them shrinking. With each step Vikir took, her ribs protruded, and her heart thudded like a drumbeat.

The elderly Madam, who had lived for a long time, had sharpened her intelligence and memory to an exceptional degree. She was firmly etching Vikir’s current appearance into her mind.

Flickering vision, impending fear, encroaching death, and the hunting dog right before her—death incarnate!

[Jaah…]

With every ounce of her strength, the shamaness emitted a weak cry, like that of a small, frail child.

Madam, seemingly out of her senses, staggered backward, solely driven by the intent to escape, showing no signs of counterattack.

…Puck! …Puck! …Puck!

The spears pierced like Fangs. Vikir’s relentless assault continued.

Although he only used his body weight to thrust, Beelzebub had managed to pierce her bit by bit.

PayBack (karma). The souls of Ballak warriors, who had died without any wrongdoing, and the countless souls of indigenous tribes from the jungle, had all imbued Vikir’s wrists with strength.

Madam’s accumulated karma, turned into experience points that had made her stronger over the years, was not helping her at this moment.

The hands of these many souls, who were pulling her into the abyss, were undoubtedly the embodiment of “reaping what one sows.”

Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!

Eventually, Madam’s soul began to be drawn into the Baalzebub bead.

Beelzebub / Skills:

Slot 1: Burn – Cerberus (A+)

Slot 2: Silent Heal – Mushusssu (A+)

Slot 3: Superfast Regeneration – Fog Lizard (A+)

Three formidable monsters with a danger level of A+.

The spirits of these creatures originally occupied one of the three slots beneath Beelzebub’s blade, forming an intense power balance.

And now, the newcomer, Madam’s spirit, disrupted that equilibrium.

Madam’s soul was the first to seek out the slot occupied by the not-so-friendly Cerberus.

[Grrrrrr…]

The soul of Cerberus, which had long occupied the first slot of the red bead, bared its teeth in alertness to Madam’s intrusion. Cerberus remembered the disgrace of having its territory stolen from it during its living years, being driven away to the Seventh Ridge, and even now as a spirit.

However, the hierarchy of spirits usually didn’t differ much from their living counterparts. Even as a spirit, Madam remained ferocious.

[Jaak! Gyaak!]

Like in her living days, Madam snatched away the territory Cerberus had occupied and settled in its place.

Beelzebub / SKills:

Slot 1: Deadly Poison – Madam Eight Legs (S)

Slot 2: Silent Hill – Mushussu (A+)

Slot 3: Superfast Regeneration – Fog Lizard (A+)

Finally, the first slot of Beelzebub had changed owners. As a result, the passive skill Vikir acquired was ‘Deadly Poison (??),’ a venom that carried Madam’s profound malice, which was said to have no equal in this world.

This sinister blood flowed into Vikir’s body and dissolved into his crimson veins. While it wouldn’t harm Vikir himself, it could be fatally poisonous to others.

Meanwhile, even at this moment, Madam was frantically fleeing as if she were insane. Despite becoming a part of the spirits and becoming prey for Baalzepub, she still maintained some level of consciousness and continued her escape. Perhaps it was due to her brain being fragmented and divided into several pieces.

Vikir had initially tried to withstand by stabbing his knife into Madam’s back, but his consciousness was dwindling rapidly. Lately, he had climbed cliffs without eating or sleeping, and his body had been reconstructed almost twice, so his stamina was on the brink of exhaustion. Moreover, he had released so much aura that the blood vessels throughout his body were about to burst. If he were an ordinary swordsman, he would have died several times or become a cripple by now.

Thunk, thunk…

From beyond his fading consciousness, the sounds of a beast’s roar could be heard.

“…If a pack of wild dogs are coming, it’s going to be a big problem.”

Even the renowned Madam Eight Legs was emitting a venomous aura, and no monster in the world would dare to approach her. However, Vikir wasn’t in a relaxed state to think about it.

In the end…

Thud!

Vikir collapsed onto the ground.

A vast amount of time, or a momentary sleep, arrived.

In the darkness behind his eyelids, many faces flickered. Faces he had left behind during the era of destruction and those he had met after his return. Faces like Chihuahua, CindiWendi, Pomeranian, Aquila, Camus, Aiyen, Dolores, Adolf, and others appeared and disappeared on the surface of his consciousness without any apparent connection.

Among them, he even saw the faces of Hugo and Aheuman.

In an instant…

“…!”

Regeneration.

Vikir suddenly regained consciousness and stood up. How many days? Hours? Minutes? Or perhaps seconds had passed? He still felt battered and bruised, and his vision was blurry.

As he waited for his sight to clear, he felt the warm sensation of a tongue licking his face. It was BaKira, the wolf, inspecting Vikir’s face. Beside him was Aiyen, Vikir’s close companion. Aiyen had a worried look on her face and seemed like she could burst into tears at any moment.

“Vikir, are you awake? Can you see me? Hey! I’m Aiyen! Over here! Look here!” Aiyen exclaimed.

“Vikir! You’re alive! I’ll fetch some medicine right away!”

“Poison! We need to cleanse the poison from him! Let’s get him to the village quickly!”

In a quiet world with just a handful of voices, Aiyen’s slow, murmured words, the distorted view and the gathering of familiar faces surrounded him.

“…Is this a dream?”

With this thought, Vikir lost consciousness once more.


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