The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 265: Seasonal Discount on Sin (2)

Chapter 265 – Seasonal Discount on Sin (2)

The night air was painted with a deep blue hue. The sky, covered with clouds, resembled a school of sharks ascending towards the surface from the depths.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

In this quiet dawn, the urgent footsteps echoed and spread.

Narrow paths between buildings made of red bricks. Puddles of water in the sunken alley. “…Heuk, heuk, huk!” A man, wearing armor under his black trench coat, wiped blood from his lips.

“By now, I must have shaken them off.” With a tight grip on the hand axe at his waist, he leaned his head out of the building, scanning left and right.

Confirming the deserted streets, he sighed in relief and muttered, “Damn. If only Miss Ouroboros, that bitch, wasn’t around, swallowing an entire district would be cake walk…”. The man grumbled as if spitting out the words.

At that moment, a creepy energy passed above his head. “…!?” The man, raising his head, was taken aback.

A man, with both feet stretched out between the buildings, looked down at him.

It was Night Hound with a black cloak and a plague doctor mask.

“What, what’s going on? You?” The man asked, his expression puzzled. However, Night Hound remained silent, only briefly stating what he had to say.

“Name’s Edward Vernon Junior. Is that right?”

The man, slightly bewildered by the statement, asked, “Who are you? Did Ouroboros send you?” After rolling his eyes for a moment, he shouted again, “Oh, wait. That bitch always moves alone. Then, are you really Night Hound? The guy she’s chasing…?”

Constantly muttering, he didn’t seem to expect an easy answer, as seen by the way he adjusted the axe hidden behind him with the hand concealed behind his back.

Night hound went on a monologue speech,”Also known as ‘Saint Vernon.’ A mid-tier graduator. A high priest of the emerging cult ‘Omumgyo,’ a pseudo-religion gaining prominence in the North. Twenty-five years ago, he killed his cousin sister after messing around with her, offering her as a sacrifice to a demon in a binding contract. Since then, he consistently engaged in religious activities, destroying thousands of households through forced offerings. In the twilight of his life, he joined the demon army and clashed with the Quovadis Clan. Utilizing his profound knowledge and understanding of scriptures as weapons, he infiltrated the temple as a spy. Later, during the Holy War, he rose from behind the scenes of the Human Alliance, inflicting fatal wounds on heroes like ‘Tudor Donquixote’ and ‘Bianca Usher.'”

Inside the mask, the eerie howling of Night Hound echoed. “..Am I saying the truth?”

The man said in response to the question.

“What nonsense! It’s true that I’m a priest and the story about my cousin sister is correct, but I have no connection with the Donquixote or Usher Clan…!?”

However, he couldn’t finish his sentence. The moment he looked up, a drop of blood fell into his mouth from Night Hound’s outstretched finger.

“…Kuh!?” The man convulsed at the bitter taste and foul energy pushing against his tongue. Despite vomiting and gripping his throat with both hands, the pain wouldn’t subside. The venom was so deadly that it dried up his entire tongue, blocking his throat deeply.

Even when he tried to use his axe pulled from his waist, the aura quickly dissipated into thin air.

Thud!

He collapsed within seconds of the blood droplet entering his mouth, a somewhat anticlimactic end for a skilled Graduator.

Night Hound, Vikir, calmly looked down at the dead target in the alley. This man was the last assassination target of the day, the 19th in total.

‘Wait, what did this guy say?’ Vikir recalled the dying words of the man.

Something along the lines of,

‘Darn it. If only Miss Ouroboros weren’t around, swallowing an entire district wouldn’t be… If that’s the case, could it be that you’re the real Night Hound that she’s after…?’ There was room for interpretation in those words. ‘Miss Ouroboros? Was he being chased by that crazy woman?’

It seemed that the prey Vikir had been targeting was also a target for her. It appeared that Miss Ouroboros had her own goals and moved with a purpose.

‘Confronting mysterious forces and hunting criminals across the entire district of Venetior.’

And, Wanting to meet Night Hound.

Vikir remembered the time when, just for tuition fees, he hunted all those Gnolls. ‘Back then, she attacked me without any reason as soon as she saw my face. I just thought she was a psycho. But it seems she’s someone with her own plans and objectives.’

Though he didn’t know her exact goals, Vikir found significant overlaps in their paths. Moreover, it seemed like she wanted to meet him quite badly.

“Tsk.” Vikir clicked his tongue, descended to the ground, and searched the dead priest’s body. In doing so, he found a crumpled piece of paper in his pocket.

[Indulgence]

“All sins of this devout believer shall be forgiven.”

This indulgence is issued and guaranteed by the Old Testament faction; forgery may result in punishment. –

A Quovadis’s Old Testament faction’s indulgence for sale. Amidst all the creases, only the phrase “All sins shall be forgiven” remained unusually clean. It was an ironic artifact left by someone who had made a pact with a demon and engaged in otherworldly deeds.

At that moment,

[…Oh wait, Oh wait, Oh wait.]

Decarabia had unconsciously opened an outer eye and was examining the indulgence.

[The scent of a comrade… No, it’s the scent of a once-comrade. Definitely! Not a comrade anymore! Now, a complete stranger! No, an outright adversary!]

Decarabia corrected himself, seemingly realizing Vikir’s potential reaction of drawing his sword with the belief that “demons must be killed” or “don’t trust the words of demons.”

However, Vikir, busy with his own thoughts, paid no attention to Decarabia.

“…The scent of a demon is coming from the indulgence, right?” Even after eliminating The ninth corpse Dantalian, it seems Quovadis had more secrets.

[Yes, this scent is undoubtedly from ‘The sixth corpse.’]

Vikir obtained information that the ninth corpse Dantalian, was close with the sixth corpse.

“Fine. I guess I need to investigate the Quovadis Clan once more.” Vikir nodded and rose from his seat.

And then,

A few minutes after Vikir left, another shadow stretched long in the alley.

“Oh, my?”

A helmet with two large snake scales protruding like horns: shiny black tights and high-heeled shoes.

‘Ms. Ouroboros.’

A villain who has yet to be exposed despite the relentless pursuit of the Venetior Security Guards, swarming with powerful individuals.

She silently stared down at the corpse sprawled in the alley corner.

“Hmm…I endured your annoyance and chased you diligently, only to find that you’ve already gone to hell?”

She raised her head and looked at the opposite alley. Eventually, the eyes faintly visible behind the mask softened.

“Seems like the effort of chasing trash paid off. I should follow quickly. If I catch upto him, he might show me his honored form.”

Miss Ouroboros leaped towards the opposite alley. In the distance, the direction of the Colosseo Academy’s walls stood tall and imposing.

* * *

As Vikir transformed into a dog and crossed over the barrier, a series of rapid horn sounds echoed throughout the entire dormitory, signaling the morning wake-up call.

“Phew.” Vikir, dragging his tired body, returned to his room. He opened the door, and there, on the bed, Figgy was rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, Vikir. Up early, huh?”

“…” Vikir, sitting on the bed for a few seconds, needed to head to the sports field immediately. Every morning, all the students gathered there for gymnastics, followed by either going for a bath or having breakfast.

“At least today is a weekend. Thankfully, no morning classes.” Vikir felt relieved.

He quickly took a brief shower in the bathhouse and had breakfast at the student cafeteria. Later, when he visited the Newspaper Club room to check last night’s news:

“Wait, Professor! Those were posted with permission! Please don’t take them down!”

“Ho ho ho, noisy.” Vikir heard the commotion coming from outside through the window. Curious, he slightly opened the door and peeked inside. Familiar faces were visible – Dolores and other members of the Newspaper Club. Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, Sinclair, all looking quite angry.

On the opposite side, an unexpected figure stood – Professor Sadi. She was tearing down all the announcements related to ‘Night Hound’ and ‘Ms. Ouroboros’.

[“Ho ho ho, kids. I’m in charge of environmental beautification this week. So please, don’t stick this filthy garbage everywhere.”]

She complained irritably while brushing her bangs.

[“Ugh, why do I have to deal with this annoying punishment? I was just running a ‘Violent Crime Assistance Counseling Center.'”]

“The problem with counseling is that you don’t distinguish between victims and perpetrators, right?” Dolores pointed out, but Professor Sadi ignored it.

Eventually, Professor Sadi tore down all the posters related to ‘Night Hound’ and ‘Ms. Ouroboros.’

Professor Sadi created a gust of wind, left the corridor, and finally disappeared.

During this time, Vikir had concealed his presence, hiding behind the locker room. When he peeked again, he saw familiar faces – Dolores and other Newspaper Club members – angrily arguing.

“…Hey, big brother!”

At that moment, Sinclaire, leaning out the window, spotted Vikir and called him.

“Did you see that just now? Professor Sadi flipped everything upside down and left. The atmosphere is completely ruined.”

“I saw it too. She seemed unusually fierce.”

“Her personality was weird from the beginning, but today it was even worse. Did she have a fight with her boyfriend last night? Why is her hysteria so severe? Oh well, there’s no way she has a boyfriend who can endure such a personality in the first place.”

Vikir nodded in agreement with Sinclaire’s complaints. Eventually, he left the club room with the morning newspaper, while Sinclaire followed him for a while, complaining about having to participate in a mock investment competition practice in the afternoon.

Vikir’s destination was Professor Banshee’s research lab. He knocked on the door, and Banshee’s cold voice was heard when the door opened.

“So, now you don’t even bother to answer and just open the door? Quite audacious. Deducting one attitude point.”

Without looking at the door, Prof. Banshee, having sensed Vikir’s presence, scolded him.

“I’ve come to get an outing pass.”

Hearing Vikir’s words Banshee’s eyes narrowed.

“…Outside the school? We have all the facilities we need on campus. Why do you want to go out?”

“I’m going to visit the Rune Church. For repentance.”

At Vikir’s words, Prof. Banshee’s eyes squinted.

“…To repent? Surprising. You didn’t seem to be deeply religious enough to go to mass on weekends.”

Banshee Morg, who had been slightly teasing, surprisingly signed the outing pass with a satisfied expression.

“Well, that’s unexpected. Going out for repentance? You didn’t seem to have such deep faith, but well, okay.”

However, as Vikir accepted the outing pass, his expression remained neutral.

“…I didn’t say I was going to do it.”

He wasn’t going out for repentance but to make someone else repent.