The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 357: Voluntary Escort (1)

Chapter 357: Voluntary Escort (1)

The day of the transfer had finally arrived.

The streets were packed with people wondering about the identity of the Hound of the Night, a felon on his way to Nouvelle Vague, the world's worst prison.

"Oh my God, I never thought the Night Hound would be caught."

"I read in the newspaper that he turned himself in."

"... Why on earth would he turn himself in?"

"I don't know. I'm more curious about what it looks like."

"Well, he's a serial killer who's killed tons of people, so of course he's gotta look creepy."

"I've heard rumors that he's over six feet tall. He's got horrible tattoos all over his body."

In the morning, a huge crowd gathered to watch Night Hound being transported.

Then a carriage began to pull up in the distance.

A moving carriage, surrounded by dozens of layers of guards.

On top of it was a cage of blackened grates.

Additionally, there are handcuffs on both wrists of the criminal, shackles on both ankles, and chains wrapped around the body.

All of these were special restraints made of 'BDISSEM', a mystical substance that neutralizes mana and forcibly binds all physical forces.

A mark reserved for felons who were to be sentenced to death or imprisoned in the Nouvelle Vague.

Whenever a prisoner is escorted in wearing it, clouds of people gather to watch.

But this time was different.

It wasn't the BDISSEM restraints that caught the crowd's attention, nor was it the largest convoy ever.

"... That's Night Hound?"

"Isn't that a kid?"

"No. Isn't that some kind of photo shoot?"

The sight of Vikir's face, sitting alone and silent in the cage, caused the crowd to quietly put down the rotten food and rocks in their hands.

"...."

"...."

"...."

No one dares to shout or throw garbage in Vikir's face.

His aura is untouchable. A razor-sharp momentum that makes the air around him tingle, even without mana.

Vikir moves forward, silently, without much fuss.

Then.

"You, you bastard, my father's enemy!"

A boy ran through the crowd.

He flung the dagger he held in his hand with such skill that it flew through the gap between the many guards.

But of course.

Thwack!

The boy's dagger was intercepted by a long sword.

Black hair that stood up like pointed ears. Eyes as red as rubies. A uniform of black and brown.

It was Countess Isabella la Baskerville, the leader of the Doberman Knights of the Iron Blood Swordsman Baskerville.

She was one of the Seven Counts of the Baskerville family and the one in charge of Vikir's convoy today.

" ... It's bittersweet to have to send my nephew to the Nouvelle Vague."

A somewhat distant blood relative who is equivalent to Vikir's 7th cousin's aunt.

Though they had only met in person twice in the past, once at Set's execution and once during the Hell Tree incident, she genuinely felt sorry for Vikir.

"I should have been present at that great banquet. If you had joined the Doberman Knights, none of this would have happened..."

But Vikir had something else to say.

"I am having a hard time because my successor, Professor Sady, is gone."

Isabella was originally a member of the imperial arrest team, but returned to the family after handing over her position to her successor, Sady.

However, the Hell Tree incident exposed Professor Sady as a traitor, and the failure to capture Sady meant that there was no one left to serve as escort.

Isabella was forced to become Vikir's escort, even though they were related by blood.

Isabella nodded obediently, knowing that there was no point in paying respect to a prisoner when they were already in a relationship.

"Sady, she's a mystery, and I've always suggested that we should be wary of her, because she's very skilled, but we don't know what she's capable of...."

Isabella clicked her tongue, as if she'd seen this coming.

"...."

"...."

An awkward silence hung between them for a moment.

It was unlikely that a prisoner and his escort would talk, but since they were related and there were no hard feelings, Isabella had a word of advice for Vikir.

"My nephew."

"?"

Vikir turned his head, and Isabella spoke in a voice that could not have been more serious.

"You would be better off committing suicide now."

If he died now, he could be buried in the ground. That might be better.

The Nouvelle Vague, a place so horrific that these words came from the mouth of Isabella, a woman who had been through it all.

That's where Vikir is headed now. The place where he will spend the next 3,021 life sentences without parole.

* * *

A little while later, the convoy began to sail out to sea.

Naturally, Vikir did not commit suicide.

He simply boarded a ship at the tip of the northern continent and sailed out into the "harsh waters" of the ice drift.

Vikir's cell on the deck of a huge ship. Handcuffed, shackled, and chained, Vikir sat stiffly in the pouring rain and icy waves.

'...Even the road to Nouvelle Vague is difficult.'

The waves that were tens of meters high and the pouring storm were so violent that it seemed as if they would capsize the ship at any moment and engulf it.

Then.

Vikir was alone, meditating in silence, when a group of people approached him.

"How does it feel to be looking for a place to die?"

"Hmph, I'd rather drown in the sea here."

"You don't know what Nouvelle Vague is like, that's why you're so nonchalant."

Three giggling voices.

Vikir turned his head and saw familiar faces.

Don Quixote La Mancha Pedro. Usher P Isolde. Thomas De Leviathan.

They were convoys from the Usher family, the Don Quixote family, and the Leviathan family, respectively.

The fact that all seven families present as jurors sent one escort was due to the fact that Isabella, who should have been the sole escort, was related to the guilty party, Vikir.

To balance the equation, six families of varying skill and status were sent to keep the Baskervilles in check, three of whom were Pedro, Isolde, and Thomas.

"The Nouvelle Vague, It's a very dreadful prison, sunk deep in the ultra-deep zone of the ocean."

"You will die on the way there."

"So why don't you kill yourself now, it's better that way, because Nouvelle Vague is indeed a living hell."

Pedro, Isolde, and Thomas whispered slyly in Vikir's ear.

Of course, Vikir wasn't listening to them.

He was focused on the faint stench that emanated from them.

'...They are the demon's minions.'

They smelled similar to the stench of Passamonte, Madeline, and Hobbes in the courtroom.

But even without the scent, Vikir already knew their faces, their names, and their bios.

Like the prey he'd been hunting all this time.

"Don Quixote La Mancha Pedro. Usher P Isolde. Thomas de Leviathan. Each rose to high positions within their families after sacrificing their men, their cousins, and countless people in their fiefdoms to the demon, and gaining demonic powers. Was the taste of easy power sweet?"

The three of them stiffened at Vikir's words.

They exchanged glances and then spoke.

"Indeed. I see why my master told me to kill you and get rid of you somehow."

"You are a squire who will not be relieved by imprisonment in the Nouvelle Vague."

"This ship will be your grave."

Vikir is an easy prey, as he has no mana due to his BDISSEM restraints.

That's what Pedro, Isolde, and Thomas thought.

But.

"..., what's going on?"

A voice interrupted the trio.

Isabella La Baskerville.

The leader of the Doberman Knights stood on the stormy deck, glaring at them.

Her fierce eyes were already filled with hostility.

"What conversation was that just now? Demonic power? master? Why should this ship become a tomb for sinners on their way to the Nouvelle Vague?"

Isabella's voice was dripping with life.

Pedro, Isolde, and Thomas clicked their tongues.

"Did you hear that? That was careless."

"What do you think? You were going to kill them all anyway."

"Better to nip the Baskervilles in the bud, you never know what she knows."

A 3:1 situation.

Even if Isabella was the First Countess and an expert in combat, she couldn't take on three of them at once.

Pedro, Isolde, and Thomas were also among the most powerful men in Don Quixote, Usher, and Leviathan respectively.

But the tables were about to turn again.

"You've been planning something fun, I see."

"Lord Lun. Punish those peculiar servants."

"What's going on here, why have those bastards suddenly become demon worshippers?"

Three new shadows stretched out from behind Isabella's back.

A dark-haired middle-aged man with a stern expression, a hulking cleric, and a gentle, kindly-looking man.

They were convoys sent from Morg, Quovadis, and Bourgeois, respectively.

Morg Mu Banshee, Mozgus Lun Quovadis, and Bourgeois Ju Lovebad.

Banshee, the Academy's next principal, and Mozgus, the Archbishop of the New Testament Sect, were specially selected for this convoy.

Their strong willingness to volunteer was the main reason.

Behind Isabella, the leader of the Doberman Knights, came Professor Banshee, Archbishop Mozgus, and Lovebad, the cousin of Merlini Lovegood, the student body president of Themiscyra Academy for Women.

"I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to overhear what was just said."

"Since demons were mentioned, I'll need to check Vikir-kun's testimony as well."

"I don't know, but your side is certainly suspicious. And you revealed your intention to kill Isabella first."

The battle situation became 3:4. In this case, Isabella's side clearly seemed to have an advantage.

But.

Pedro, Isolde, and Thomas were still frowning.

"Do you think we did this recklessly?"

"Hehehe. Such idiotic things."

"...Hmm. It's time for the medicine to take effect."

Thomas de Leviathan, an ultra-doctor, pulled out his pocket watch.

Isabella's expression changed first.

"Ma, mana...!?"

At the same time, Banshee, Mozgus, and Lovebad's faces hardened.

Thomas smirked.

"The tea you drank contained a substance that is the raw material for BDISSEM. It was in powdered form and in very small amounts, so you probably didn't notice."

"The amount each of you drank could easily buy this ship. How could it not be effective? It's worth the price, isn't it?"

"You're wearing a pair of BDISSEM. handcuffs right now. The effect lasts only a few minutes, but it's enough."

Pedro and Isolde opened their mouths as well.

They exuded life and pressed back against Isabella, Banshee, Mozgus, and Lovebad.

Thomas said with a sneer.

"Don't worry. I will report that the ship was sunk by a rampage of Night Hound and that you were wiped out because of it. You will go down as heroes, martyred in the line of duty."

Mutiny on board.

Isabella, Banshee, Mozgus, and Lovebad, faced with the most terrible thing that could happen on a ship, could not hide their panic.

"Damn it. My mana really isn't boiling."

"...I feel like I'm wearing BDISSEM handcuffs."

"I can only last so long in this state."

"Holy shit! BDISSEM powder! What the hell is that substance?"

A storm of confusion rages on the deck.

"Handcuffs?"

Vikir's voice came from inside the cage.

"You mean these?"

Pedro, Isolde, and Thomas turned to see Vikir with his palms spread wide.

At the same time.

...Poof!

The smiles on the faces of Pedro, Iselde, and Thomas stopped.

The BDISSEM handcuffs shattered before their eyes.

Fragments of the shackles shattered and fell.

Vikir pushed himself to his feet in front of the three men, who were too stunned to show any change in expression.

Ujijik-

BDISSEM The cage bends so easily, as if it were a bunch of sorghum.

"Don't sink the ship."

Night Hound stepped out of the cage.

"I must go to Nouvelle Vague."

He looked so nonchalant.

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tl/n: BDSM (BDISSEM)