The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 474: Knowing the Fate of My Father (1)

Chapter 474: Knowing the Fate of My Father (1)

A severed head is terrible.

[Didn't I tell you from the beginning that your efforts are in vain?]

"...."

[It is impossible to kill me at this time, give up, Demon Hunter].

Flauros continued to click his tongue.

Truth or lies. To know and be deceived, or to pretend not to know and charge ahead.

Camus, standing beside Vikir, gritted her teeth.

"Hey, is what he's saying true? Does his death really open the gates of destruction or something?"

The answer came from two sources.

Seere, trembling on Camus's shoulder, and Dekarabia, clinging to Vikir's chest.

[Flauros is a being of the power of deception, so we don't know if the words are true or not].

[... But I'd say it's likely, he's cunning].

In other words, even fellow demons can't tell if Flauros' words are false or true.

Faced with a choice, a crossroads, Vikir hesitated.

Should he let Flauros go, or should he kill him, knowing that it would open the Gate of Destruction?

Even now, Flauros was escaping slowly, his head like water vapor.

Sweat dripped from his face like molten lead.

Vikir clenched his teeth so hard they might break.

... Just then.

"Do what you want."

A heavy voice came from behind Vikir's back.

Hugo. He cast a dark shadow over Vikir's back.

"Son."

He called to Vikir.

Vikir didn't turn.

But Hugo continued.

"A father is responsible for his children, even if they make the wrong choices."

Vikir thought the words were very refreshing.

When he finished, Hugo muttered to himself, 'It's funny to say this, but since when did I become a father?'

Then.

gigigig-

There was the sound of feet scraping the ground.

"Now, wait!"

Vikir whirled around, but it was too late.

...Flash!

Hugo swung his sword.

A powerful strike flew out and struck the ground.

It was where the head of Flauros, who was almost ready to flee, was.

[Kkeuaaaaagh!]

A tearing scream rang out.

A merciless blow severed the demon's last hold.

Vikir's mouth hung half open as he watched Flauros' head shatter into pieces.

Demons kill. Vikir would probably have made the same choice, given a little more time.

But Vikir had been granted a suspension of disbelief for a choice that carried great responsibility.

By the hand of Hugo, a man he had never considered a father.

It was as if he had unintentionally made a fool of himself.

"...."

"...."

Vikir and Hugo's gazes meet.

A gap where complex thoughts flow.

Everyone gathered in that ethereal atmosphere was speechless.

...Just then.

Grumble! Kwakwang!

Suddenly, a wing fell on the dry sky.

Dark clouds gathered, and a pillar of red light appeared in the sky.

It was a huge and massive red line.

The red curve, which seemed to be round, soon began to form an intricate geometric pattern in the center.

And Vikir recognized it at once for what it was.

"The Gate of Destruction!"

The words Flauros had spoken before his death were true.

He had opened the Gate of Destruction, even as he shouldered a burden so great that it amounted to nothing less than annihilation, and he had woven his life into a cord to keep it closed.

And now that Flauros's lifeline is completely severed, the seal is broken and the gate is opened, as planned.

A gate that was summoned by a High Ranking Demon at the cost of his life.

Perhaps by now, Flauros's soul would be in a terrible state of agony for all eternity, with a penalty far worse than annihilation, but... none of that matters now.

The Gate of Destruction had been opened.

Vikir barely suppressed a frantic shudder that ran through his body.

The rainy season of fear would soon begin.

The long rainy season that signaled the end of the world.

The final weapon of the demons that had inflicted the greatest and most horrific damage on the human alliance by wiping out 98% of the living.

Endless, never-ending rains of fire, winds of fire, thunderbolts of fire, and floods of fire.

The searing raindrops that would fall on the earth and sky, scorching everything in their path.

The grass and trees of the mountains will burn, the forests will be reduced to ashen deserts, the oceans and lakes will boil over and turn into wastelands, and every living, breathing thing will be burned to death or dried up.

The great flood of fire that will flood for the next 150 days will wipe out all remaining life.

"... Was that real?"

"A portal of this magnitude, the Hell Tree is nothing compared."

"I've never seen such terrible magic before! An overwhelming sense of foreboding...."

"I can't believe it. I can't believe such a thing exists."

"It makes Nouvelle Vague seem like a cradle."

Camus, Aiyen, Dolores, Sinclair, and Kirko can't believe their eyes when they see the giant portal being drawn in the sky above them.

This is what it means to see with your own eyes and not believe.

Just then.

...Quack!

The entire sky began to shake violently.

Vikir shouted like a thunderbolt.

"Here comes the first explosion!"

Before he regressed, he clearly remembered the moment the Gate of Destruction opened.

First, the gate would open, a huge amount of hellfire inside will pour out.

The instantaneous firepower is enough to reduce tens of thousands of soldiers to a handful of ashes in an instant.

The Gate of Destruction that appeared here now was certainly powerful enough to do just that.

Crouching.

The gate slowly opened.

The crowd was stunned by the heat already emanating from it.

"...It's hot."

"Pushishishi- We're already thirsty, and now we're going to burn to death?"

Even Orca and Sade could not fight back against the Gate of Destruction that appeared in the sky.

Even CindyWendy, standing on the watchtower of Tochka's main castle, spoke up.

"...If something like that spews fire, the entire Tochka will blow away."

The countless refugees who had been furiously throwing stones at the city walls were mesmerized in unison.

A natural disaster that they dare not even think of resisting, a presence that brings overwhelming despair and fear.

That was the Gate of Destruction.

The red portal that had opened in the black sky was now fully formed.

And now, it slowly began to open and reveal its deep and vile contents.

Then.

jeobeog-

Through all this despair, chaos, and terror, there was a man who took a step forward.

Vikir.

His expression was as calm as ever.

'...Now I know why I regressed.'

Perhaps it was to prevent a situation like this.

Chaang-

Vikir drew his sword.

He took another step toward the Gate of Destruction that was opening its mouth at Tochka.

To face the great firestorm that was about to burst forth.

And then.

ku-leuleuleuleug!

A huge pillar of fire erupted.

A supernatural disaster on a scale as terrifying as the eruption of the Nouvelle Vague volcano.

Like a tongue protruding from its mouth, the Gate of Destruction unleashed its first blast of crimson flames, attempting to lick up anything in its path.

And Vikir set his whole body on fire to cut off its tongue.

All of this was what he had planned from the moment he first opened his eyes in his cradle.

...kuleuleug!

Squeezing every last bit of mana from his body, Vikir formed a Black Sun at the tip of his sword.

The eight fiercely spinning teeth took on the shape of a sphere and stood at the Gate of Destruction.

But it was so small and fragile that it looked like a fire moth rushing toward a torch.

'Still, I can't give up.'

Vikir gritted his teeth and unleashed a blast of mana in his body.

A blow that gathers all the strength from the time when he strangled a poisonous snake in his cradle.

Vikir's charge, blessed by Dolores, met the flames of the Gate of Destruction.

jilkkeun-

Vikir closed his eyes, imagining his body soon to be consumed by the flames.

....

...But nothing happened.

No shock, not even a hint of heat.

"?"

Vikir opened his eyes, puzzled by the lack of change.

And there it was, an incredible sight.

The Gate of Destruction. A feast of bursting hellfire. A wind-lit Tochka.

Something stuck in the middle of it all.

Black teeth.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

It was holding back the flames from the gates of hell.

"No, not eight, but...."

Vikir fumbled for the number of teeth.

It had one more than eight.

Nine.

The ninth tooth was biting ferociously at the flames.

Nine teeth resisting destruction. Baskerville 9th Form.

The enemies that exploded with terrifying momentum and the black aura prevented the apocalypse from coming to Tochka.

It was certainly something Vikir had seen before.

The Grave of Swords. The words of a once noble man who had crossed the threshold of death.

Death Knight. And the Nine Teeth. Baskerville, the Supreme.

A being who has crossed the line between life and death.

An undead whose death has been postponed even though he has already died once.

'...Since when did I become a father?'

Hugo.

Hugo Les Baskerville.

The patriarch of the Baskerville family, the Iron Blood Swordman Family, was there.