The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 426: The Night Walkers (4)

Chapter 426: The Night Walkers (4)

Sinclair.

The most talented and brilliant of the 20 classes at Colosseo Academy, with the exception of Vikir.

In the original story, she disappeared from everyone's sight after graduating from Colosseo Academy, until she reappeared in front of her classmates.

"Stay back!"

Sinclair shouted at Bianca, who was holding Tudor.

At the same time.

jjeojeojeojeojeog! ujijijig!

The ground is torn apart on a large scale, and the entire yellow gold vein beneath it is lifted out.

A stratum suddenly broke off and floated into the air.

Countless pieces of gold are melted by a hot magic field and then their form is recreated.

Then, an enormous number of golden hands appeared behind Sinclair's back.

A thousand hands.

Each one glowing with a brilliant golden light.

Behind them, a large mana wheel spun, emitting a halo of light.

The hat atop Sinclair's head began to unleash its power.

The so-called 'Money Hat', a mysterious artifact that increased the amount of mana one possessed based on the amount of gold one possessed.

It was a powerful artifact, especially with Sinclair's overwhelming wealth as he became a recognized member of the Bourgeois family.

Sinclair had even gotten quite high stats in the Hell Tree.

This had allowed her to double-cast a great deal of earth and gold magic.

Like right now.

kwakwakwakwang!

Countless golden fists rained down, blocking Don Quixote's invincible cavalry for a moment.

Horses stumbled and knights rolled on the ground.

The tightening siege was suddenly loosened.

Of course, Bianca, who had crossed so many lines of fire, would not miss this opportunity.

pas-

Bianca moved as if she had made a pact with Sinclair.

In one swift motion, she scooped Tudor up in her arms and leapt upward.

As Bianca and Tudor slipped back through the encirclement, Sinclair flew through the air to cover them.

kwakwakwakwang!

The spears flying toward Bianca were deflected by a golden fist.

Bianca, who had been running wordlessly, turned to Sinclair.

" ... What about the family?"

"I left them in the care of Uncle Demian, and I hope you don't mind me saying so now, but... I'm kind of worried about you guys."

Sinclair lowered his head and spoke in a low, hushed voice.

This is because Sinclair and Bianca were, in a vulgar term, 'at loggerheads' with each other.

Sinclair had originally planned to graduate with honors from the academy, prove herself, and then compete with her cousin Juliette for a place in the Bourgeois family.

However, Juliette's death and her growing attraction to Vikir, a former classmate at the same school, she gradually began to wander.

After much deliberation, she decided to drop out of Colosseo Academy to clear her mind and make a clear decision about her future.

She also decided to cut off all ties with her other friends, who were making her swayed by their personal feelings.

Suddenly, one day, without leaving a word, she disappeared from everyone and erased her traces.

But fate had a twist.

Sinclair became trapped in the Hell Tree, and in the process, she began to reflect on her inner self.

A murderous battle among her friends.

A mission where only one of them would survive to reach the next level.

In the midst of these extreme trials.

'In a situation like this, I think it's only right to send the person most likely to survive, and you're the most genius among us, Sinclair, so I think you should go.'

'... Hung. You know you've been a total jerk to me lately, you should really think about it. Reflect on the real thing. Where's such a good friend?'

Her friends embraced her and sacrificed for her, even though she was the first to turn away.

They didn't ask for anything, they didn't demand anything, they just gave her their full trust.

After weighing it all up, she was ashamed of herself for thinking it would be beneficial to fall out with her friends.

...And that's what Sinclair had in mind, too.

'Decide for yourself. What to see, what to hear, what to believe.'

Vikir said this just before he was crushed by the Demonic Dragon's fist.

Those were the same words he'd used to kill her father, who had become the Demon's mastermind.

Afterward, Sinclair, who had dropped out of the academy and become a Bourgeois family head, thought long and hard.

Was this the life she'd been seeking?

Was this what she really wanted, what she had hoped for?

[It wouldn't be a bad idea to weed out useless relationships at this point. As of this time, all plays have ended].

Her father, Bartolomeo, the only family member she ever wanted to be recognized and loved, had long since become a puppet of the demon.

By the time she realizes this, her goal of becoming the head of a Bourgeois family has already lost its meaning.

So what has she believed and what has she been pursuing?

And what should she believe in and pursue in the future?

She pondered for a while, and then her sharp mind came up with an answer.

And now, Sinclair is standing here to fulfill her answer.

"I'm sorry, I've been wrong all these years. Please accept me as your friend again."

Sinclair said as she blocked Don Quixote's Invincible Cavalry.

A voice that trembles lightly, unlike the golden iron wall that stands strong.

Her sincere apology reached Bianca, who was behind her, leaving Tudor in Dolores' care.

"...."

Bianca turned her head to look at Sinclair.

Sinclair was sweating profusely.

Blood trickled from the corners of her mouth, indicating the strain on her body.

"I would do anything if you could only forgive me...."

But she couldn't finish her sentence.

"Ah! How can you not forgive in a situation like this!?"

Bianca quickly rushed forward, grabbed Sinclair by the scruff of the neck, and ran backwards.

...kwakwang! kudeudeudeudeudeudeug-

As Sinclair was being tackled by Bianca, the golden wall collapsed and the Invincible Cavalry rushed in.

In the first place, just being able to block the charge of those monsters that could tear apart landslides for a few seconds was an incredible achievement.

peopeopeong-

Several spears flew toward Sinclair, but Bianca dodged them as she wrapped her arms around Sinclair's waist.

The spears cut off a few strands of Bianca's long hair and send her flying.

Bianca dodged the spears and sprinted over the jutting rocks, turning to Sinclair around her waist.

"Idiot, we were never friends in the first place."

"Bianca...."

Tears formed in Sinclair's eyes.

They'd been rooming together since their freshman year.

But they'd drifted apart at Colosseo Academy.

Hiding one's family origin or trying to cut off all contact after graduating from school would have been a great betrayal and immorality for the young girls.

But now, they have a much bigger cause to fight for.

Kwak!

The two women clasped hands.

When they met again, their hands were even more firmly interlocked than the first time.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

"...."

"I'm also sorry for dropping out of the Academy without telling you."

"...."

"I'm sorry I ignored your greeting on purpose, just to get away from you."

"...."

"I'm sorry I hid my Bourgeois background from you."

"...."

"At the Hell Tree again...."

"Ahhhh! I get it, I'm out of breath, I can't even answer!"

Bianca shouted, forgetting that her smug expression was crumbling.

Both Sinclair and Bianca had tears and snot running down their faces.

Right then.

The Invincible Cavalry, which had come up right behind Bianca and Sinclair, stopped.

"You bastards! How dare you take my friend!"

"I can't forgive you!"

"I'll pay you back twice over!"

Sancho, Piggy, and Tudor, who had fully recovered after receiving treatment from Dolores, joined them.

"Bianca!"

"Tudor!"

Tudor and Bianca leapt to their feet, clasping each other's hands, and within moments, they were each delivering a stinging blow to the knights who had been on their backs.

"Here comes the Tycoon of the Night!"

"Isn't it better to be the Golden King of the Night than the Tycoon of the Night?"

As Sancho and Piggy casually smile at Sinclair, whom they haven't seen in a long time, Sinclair smiles back with tears of relief.

It's good to be together. That's what motivation is all about.

" ... It's a shame we're missing one."

Piggy mumbles to himself, and everyone flinches.

But it was only for a moment.

"Don't worry. He'll be back."

"I can't imagine him dying."

" ... I guess so too, right?"

"Maybe he's healthier than we are."

"We're going to get him back."

Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, Bianca, and Sinclair turned their heads, their faces determined.

And before them stood Dolores, their most trusted senior and ally.

"Ready, the prayer is complete!"

Dolores clasped her hands together and began to radiate holy power.

paas-

A dome of pure white flame began to expand outward.

The entirety of Don Quixote's knights flinched as they were touched by Dolores' holy power.

Their eyes glazed over and their movements slowed noticeably.

"That's it! It's working!"

Tudor exclaimed uncontrollably.

But Dolores's complexion was not so bright.

"Wrong, the brainwashing is too strong. It must be the power of a demon of the 10 Corpses."

And the one who was indirectly controlling the knights with that power, the cause of the battle, stood before Dolores.

"Kahahahaha! His influence will remain strong as long as I am here!"

Pedro, who was sprinting toward Dolores with a burst of magic.

As he approached, the eyes of the knights around him became cloudy again, and their actions became sharper.

Finally, Dolores bit her lip and drew her secret weapon.

"...I can't help it."

It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Dolores clasped her hands together and began to pray.

...paas!

Another bright light swirled around her.

It was like the warmth of sunshine, bringing a cool breeze to the battlefield.

Pedro sneered at Dolores.

"Prayers and holy incantations are laughable! Light is only as warm as the sun you bathe in...."

But. He didn't finish his sentence.

He was interrupted by a large shadow suddenly cast across his face.

"What ...?"

Pedro's face went blank for a moment.

It was because of the object Dolores suddenly pulled out from behind her back as she prayed.

A mace. A large, beautiful, powerful hunk of iron.

It was Nabokov I's favorite weapon, which was closer to physical power than divine power, was right there.