The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 122: The Hunt for the Second Son (4)

Chapter 122: The Hunt for the Second Son (4)

"The poison is listening a little late."

Vikir pieced back together the torn flesh of his chest and forearms.

He could feel the wraiths sealed in the slots of his magic sword, Beelzebub, rampaging madly.

<Binge Fly 'Beelzebub'> / Awl

-1 slot: Venomous -Madame Eight-Legged (S)

Slot -2: Silent Hill – Mushuhushu (A+)

Slot -3: Super Regeneration -Bog Salamander(A+)

With his body restored by the regenerative powers of the Swamp Salamander, Vikir inspects the slots on Beelzebub.

Crackle-crackle-crackle-dahlgraak!

The red beads beneath the blade clattered against each other, churning violently.

The wraith raging most furiously within Beelzebub right now was Madame Eight-Legged.

She seemed to be very proud of the fact that Andromalius, who had been poisoned by her own poison, moved normally for a while.

But Vikir was surprised enough by the effect for now.

The Madame's poison was so powerful that it made even the world's tens of thousands stumble, and it was so terrifying that even a life that had already died could be endangered again.

Being able to inflict debuffs like slow, numb, and blind against such a high ranking demon was a huge win.

Andromalius, meanwhile, watched in horror as his own body faded to black.

[A poison that even the dead can't escape? Where in the world is this poison... a mere mortal!]

Andromalius thought as he struggled to control his spinning vision.

How many demonic creatures in the world possessed such a vile poison?

The cunning spiders of the Red and Black Mountains, the nine-headed snakes of the Giant Country, the great jellyfish under the Black Sea....

There are several other candidates that should come to mind that live in the depths of the Outer Demon Realm, but how their venom is being used by mere mortals is beyond me.

'It's so virulent that even the greatest demons are reluctant to deal with it, and it's impossible to even contain or store it somewhere, so how could a mere mortal....'

But there was no time to think about it now.

Andromalius gritted his teeth and stepped back.

The bloodsuckers followed suit and backed away.

He looks around to see if there are any other bloodsuckers around, but there aren't.

The only bloodsucker is the Vikir in front of you.

But his blood is already tainted with a terrible poison, and sucking on it will only poison you, as it is now.

"Not good for you."

The vikir bites down on his index finger, drawing blood and spraying it into the air.

Cha-cha-cha-cha.

The bubbling droplets of venom flew like bullets.

The blood could turn from mundane to venomous at any moment, depending on Vikir's will.

Not only is it hemorrhagic and neurotoxic, but it is also deadly acidic, burning Andromalius' body and soul at the same time.

[Off-aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!]

As a demonic sword, Beelzebub deals direct damage to a demon's spiritual body.

Andromalius had no choice but to attach meaning to each and every one of Vikir's attacks.

What's more, Vikir's own brute strength was more than enough to draw out the power of a sword of the highest Graduator class.

Baskerville Seventh Form. Six teeth, followed by a seventh, small but distinct.

Once again, the tip of the sword oviposited Andromalius' entire body.

[Ugh! What the hell!]

Andromalius gnashed his teeth at the absurdity of it all.

He hadn't expected to be attacked by a mere mortal, much less on his home turf.

Ehhhhh...

Andromalius swatted at the remaining swarm of flies, forming a black mist, and quickly ducked behind it.

He stepped back, intending to close the distance.

"That's what I was hoping for."

Vikir didn't bother to follow Andromalius as he fled deeper into the cave.

Only.

Kararak-

pulled two black sticks from his back and assembled them into one.

It was the black bow wielded by Adonai, the legendary archer who had led Anubis and Balak in their prime.

...Boom!

An arrow from Anubis flew out and pierced Andromalius' body.

Boom!

Andromalius hit the cave wall and looked down at the hole in his chest with a horrified expression.

The arrowhead was dyed red and, of course, coated with Madame Eight-Legged's venom.

[Ugh, a bow!?]

This is unbelievable.

Why would a Baskerville swordsman use a bow?

He looks up and sees Vikir walking toward him.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

His stride as smooth as a snake's, his killing intent eerie.

The ghostly figure made no sound as it walked, and Andromalius felt goosebumps creep up his spine.

"No."

Andromalius decided that he could not face Vikir in the cave.

We-Eng-

At Andromalius' call, all the flies gathered in one place.

"They shall swarm like flies."

These were the flies that had been licking the flesh off the bones of the children and swarming over them.

These myriads of grave-dwelling flies loyally rallied at their master's call.

But.

"Flies are the spider's food."

Vikir intermittently slashed his wrist, black blood pouring from it.

The fog of blood, laced with venomous spider venom, was killing the flies like nothing else.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.

The stiffly moving flies melted like ice cream dumped into a flame as soon as they touched Vikir's blood mist.

That wasn't all.

Vikir had also contaminated the groundwater flowing along the walls and ramps with his blood, so the flies were constantly draining their health without a place to stick.

Vikir was in control of the situation, including the terrain around him.

Waaaahhhh...

His breathing is getting tighter.

He didn't know why he was being pushed.

Andromalius' expression crumpled.

"...For God's sake, spare a few children."

He'd never regretted eating all the children he'd kept in the cave for blood bags as much as he did now.

... but.

[Yeah. I'll give you credit for pushing this body this far as a mere mortal].

Andromalius was still not relaxing.

Outside the cave, outside the circle, there was a river and a sandy bank that cut a wide swath through the training grounds.

If he could burst the bank and divert all of the river's overflow into this cave, he still had a chance.

'The regenerative powers of the flesh will not be able to keep up with a demon.'

He would lose some magic power, but that would also delay the summoning of the gate that would open the Age of Destruction by quite a bit, but it was unavoidable.

[Ku-k-k-k-k... ... Yeah, that was fine for a human. It was for a moment, but it was embarrassing. But that's it. You crossed the line.]

Andromalius raised his blood-red eyes and glared at Vikir.

Then, he took the first step toward leaving the cave.

He broke the bonds.

Tsutsutsutsutsuts...

The binding that had enveloped the entire training hall disappeared.

Only demons and children under the age of eight could enter the Demon Binding Realm, and it required an enormous amount of magic power to maintain.

It's no wonder it's so secretive that even an archmage can't detect it, and it's so powerful that it can't be broken by anything less than demonic strength.

Breaking the bond restored Andromalius's magic to a great extent.

With that, Andromalius suppressed the poison that was eating away at his body and leapt up through the hole in the ceiling in the center of the cave.

[Hold on, I'll show you hell in a moment].

Andromalius slammed into the rock with a sickening laugh.

On the other hand, he was glad to see the dangerous bastard now.

In a few more years, he'd be truly unbearable.

'If Hugo, Osiris, and the Seventh Count had been the only ones prepared, it would have made a big difference.'

Better to make sure they're dead now, so they'll be ready for the next time they want to devour Baskerville.

Then.

Andromalius reached the end of the hollow, where he could see the night sky, and suddenly stopped.

Down below, he could see Vikir standing still.

[...?]

Andromalius furrowed his brow and bowed his head.

Somehow, Vikir hadn't given chase.

He just looks up and stares at Andromalius with his usual expressionless face.

... with a strange looking whistle in his hand.

With that, Vikir raised the tooth-like whistle in his hand to his mouth and blew.

A high, piercing note echoes through the hollow.

Andromalius felt a chill run down his spine as he heard it.

[...!]

It is impossible not to know that he also has the experience of living for decades wearing the skin of the second son of the Baskervilles.

What is that whistle in Vikir's hand, and what does it mean?

And then.

The night has grown even darker.

Dark clouds blocked out the moonlight and a veil of inky darkness fell.

Long shadows began to cast countless shadows from outside the hole in the ceiling Andromalius had climbed.

Flutter.

A black, blood-colored wisp fluttered in the night breeze.

Andromalius raised his bloodshot eyes to the sky outside the hole.

The ceiling after the Demon Binding had disappeared.

There, the tips of countless shadows pointed at Andromalius.

"What are you doing there, ... son?"

Hugo Les Baskervilles standing waving a black robe.

Beside him, his eldest son, Osiris Les Baskervilles.

And the seven hounds standing behind their father. Seven counts.

Pit Bull.

Mastiff.

Doberman.

Shepherd.

Rottweiler.

Wolfhound, and so on.

A total of one hundred hounds under each knightly order, seven hundred in total.

The full force of the iron-blooded military power.

All the dogs of Baskerville were assembled.