The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 166: Sin and Punishment (6)

Chapter 166: Sin and Punishment (6)

The moment Dolores saw the face of Dantalian's created Nymphet, she felt something snap inside her head.

The string of reason she had always held so tightly in her calm attitude.

The moment it snapped, she was plunged into an incredibly irrational and emotional state, and the intensity of her emotions unleashed a power she didn't know she had.

And that emotion and power is directed toward one person.

Vikir. The Night Hound!

Buffed by Dolores' spirit, Vikir saw a new world open up to him, a world beyond his own.

Swordmaster.

The amplified aura within him radiates from the hilt of his magic sword, Beelzebub.

Quack, quack, quack!

Gas to liquid, and liquid to solid.

Boiled to the limit and hardened, the aura gradually becomes a solid mass, like a lump of blood coagulated by heat.

And then it began to spin in a circle, following the laws of mana.

Kiyiyiying-

The solid aura coated on the sword rotated at an invisible speed, hovering around the edge of the sword.

It looked like countless logging saws gathered together and rotating.

Weing- Kagagagagak!

Vikir flicked the sword lightly, and the rocks, rebar, and other debris in front of him burst into flames.

Just a flick of the sword was enough to do this. It was an insane cutting power.

'...This is insane.'

Even the normally dull Vikir was deeply surprised.

Had Hugo always felt like this?

When you're at the level of a master, you can't see what's below you.

He could see why Hugo had been treating people below him like flies.

'Hugo, in his previous life, had even risen two levels from Swordmaster.'

It would soon be revealed that there were lower, middle, and higher levels of Swordmaster.

Vikir had temporarily become a lower Swordmaster with the help of a saint from the peak level of Graduator, and he would take this sensation to heart from now on.

Later, he'd have to make it this far on his own, without buffs.

Meanwhile.

[Aaaahhh!]

Dantalian was being torn apart from the inside out.

Vikir was slashing at Dantalian's body with shards of aura spinning at lightning speeds, slicing here and there.

The awl-like magic sword Beelzebub had been used primarily for stabbing, but not anymore.

Rather, the rotating form of its aura specialized more in slashing, but that didn't mean its stabbing power was weakened.

'Aside from my increased combat power, this feeling of exaltation makes me feel like I can do ... anything.'

Vikir was in a rare state of elation.

The resonance of the soul, the arrangement of the buff as if it were made by knowing the size and location of the internal organs and blood vessels of the entire body.

It was an excitement that felt like an extension of the feeling of wearing new clothes that fit and looked good on you.

The holy power of Dolores spread warmly throughout Vikir's body, accelerating the flow of mana.

Blood vessels expand and blood and mana flow more quickly.

The aura trembled, and the amplitude it produced expanded.

This was the result of the 'soul resonance' effect.

And Vikir had some knowledge of this phenomenon.

'Yes, before the regression, Dolores, Saint of Steel, only granted this buff to a few heroes in her vicinity.'

At the time of the annihilation war, there were only a handful of beings who could receive Dolores' buffs.

Dolores healed everyone without discrimination, but she was careful with her buffs.

Only a handful of Heroes had the power to maximize the effectiveness of her buffs.

Heroes like Hugo Les Baskerville, patriarch of the House of Ironblood Swordman, and Morg Camus, patriarch of the House of Morg and known for his nickname, The Empress Dowager.

But what about now?

Vikir has Dolores' buffs all to himself.

It meant that Dolores recognized and understood him deep down, but unfortunately, Vikir didn't know this.

He just assumed he was lucky.

Meanwhile.

Dolores was feeling her body and the Night Hound's body completely envelope and merge into one.

It wasn't just their bodies, but their souls as well.

She found great comfort and empathy in this process, even if it was only temporary.

She had never heard the Night Hound say anything particularly comforting, but somehow she felt as if he had embraced her fatigue and feelings of inferiority.

She had often wondered this.

'Everyone in the world confesses their sins and pours out their troubles to me, but... then to whom do I confess my sins and pour out my struggles?'

Sometimes it's not enough to talk to God.

You need to talk to a fellow human being.

But for years, Dolores hadn't been able to talk to anyone about her mental health.

As Dantalian said, she had to always appear dignified and resolute as someone's president, someone's manager, someone's saint, and someone's daughter.

But for once, she let go of all that and her loneliness.

She pushed all of her emotions onto the broad back of the night hound in front of her.

To her partner for the night, her 'soul resonance'!

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

Vikir pushed against Dantalian with a strength far beyond his usual.

Dantalian, who had been burned by the Saint's holy fire net, was unable to withstand the sudden rush of Vikir's aura.

Vikir stretched out his sword and attempted to decapitate Dantalian.

Dantalian's head, with its many faces clustered together like grape vines, and the slender neck that connected it to his body!

It was then that Dantalian made his final move.

[Brother! Help!]

Nymphet. Her face turns to Vikir.

The faces of all the children in the nursery turned to Vikir and cried out.

[Brother! I can still live!]

[If this demon dies, we die too!]

[Brother! Please! Please don't kill this demon!]

[You murderer! What do you care what happens to us!?]

And Dantalian's plan seemed to work.

Vikir's sword had slowed, ever so subtly.

Taking advantage of it, Dantalian summoned all his magic and unleashed Soul Strike.

Boom!

Dozens of Dantalian's tongues converged to form a single spear, which struck Vikir directly in the heart.

"...!"

Vikir couldn't even scream, he was bounced off the spot and sent flying, smashing two stone pillars and burying himself in a pile of debris.

"No!"

Dolores cried out in horror, but it was too late.

Dantalian pushed his bloodied body to his feet and laughed grimly.

[Ho ho ho! In a fight between the original masters, a single move is all that is needed to produce such a futile result].

Then, he strode towards Dolores, who stood there with a dazed expression.

Smirksmirksmirksmirks...

The face in front of him changed back to that of a man.

A stern-looking, middle-aged man, Cardinal Humbert, the head of the Old Order.

[Daughter, this father is a disappointment].

"...!"

[I sent you to the academy to raise the prestige of the family, and now you're doing this? Do you think it's a good idea to tell the world about the family's affairs?]

Humbert's face contorts into an expression of contempt for the pathetic.

[I thought you were a better human being, Dolores].

"...!"

Dolores' small, slender body began to shake again.

'...Night Hound.'

She had overcome Humbert's form before, when it had leapt out of the sack of fear, because the Night Hound had been by her side.

But there was no hound to save her now.

She cowered, losing her earlier confidence.

She crouches down, losing her confidence.

Tsk-tsk.

Then, Humbert's face opens wide.

His mouth, which lacks a jaw joint in the lower jaw, gapes wide open, resembling the gills of a giant snake.

Dolores in her shell, and the snake about to devour the eggs.

Dantalian smiled a sickening smile as he sought to devour Dolores.

[Now, give your face to me...rr!?]

But Dantalian's voice was cut off mid-sentence.

Pfft!

Hot blood splashed black.

Without a sound or a movement, the sword sliced through Dantalian's throat.

Vikir was now standing behind Dantalian's back with a cold gaze.

[Uh, how? I'm pretty sure it's the heart...]

Dantalian, with the face of a Nymphet, stammered.

Instead of answering, Vikir opened the inside of his black cloak to show him.

Tsk-.

There was a black sphere with an incontinence.

The egg of Madame Eight-Legged. It had protected Vikir's heart from Dantalian's spear!

Though the shell is slightly cracked, the egg is still strong.

Vikir cradled it in his arms again and looked at Dantalian.

"I don't know what else to say, but...."

With that, Vikir snapped Dantalian's neck completely.

"Go to a bad place."

That was the last of Dantalian.

...Thud! ...Thud! Degurr!

The faces of the Dantalian fell to the ground and rolled across the floor.

However.

[Brother... Brother... I'm in so much pain...]

Dantalian's remains were still there.

Arms and limbs regenerated from beneath Nymphet's face.

It crawled across the floor, trying to get away.

But Vikir stood in its way. With an unwavering gaze.

...Boom!

The final strike pierced through the center of the nymph's body.

Only then did the Nymphet cease to move.

[....]

She raised her eyes that looked like they might close at any moment and said in a voice that looked like it might break at any moment.

[Thank you... uncle].

And then... Vikir's gaze faltered.

"...."

Vikir carefully bent down and cradled Nymphet's face in his hands.

Then Nymphet lifted her collapsing body with difficulty and wrapped her arms around Vikir's neck.

jjog-

Nymphet then kissed Vikir lightly on the cheek.

Tsutsutsutsuts...

And then, it was all gone.

All the darkness vanished, leaving only the rubble of the ruins.

Dolores' palm came closer and wrapped around the back of Vikir's hand, who was sitting still.

"Night Hound... are you all right?"

Despite being overwhelmed by Humbert's visions only moments ago, her first concern was for Vikir's well-being.

Just then.

...ttang-geulang!

The metallic sound of something falling through the crumbling stone pillars rang out.

Vikir and Dolores turned their heads at the same time.

Sparkle!

A golden necklace was shining brightly.

'Nymphet.'

The words stood out like a beacon in the snow.