Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 431

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Episode 431 The Lion King (2)

Whiiying –

As the fishermen said, a volcano had erupted somewhere in the distant sea, and the sea breeze that had been blowing fiercely for several days had been carrying strange heat.

The stench that spreads through the heat makes the entire castle of Don Quixote built on the seaside cliff tingle.

The distinctive smell of dried fish.

It is the smell that comes from the process of drying the caught fish due to the warmer water temperature.

The fish caught in excess were dried here and there by fishermen, and the smell spread over a wide area by the sea breeze, even flooding the Don Quixote family’s castle.

……however.

The stench in the hallway now was of a completely different kind.

Window King ‘Don Quixote La Mancha Cervantes’.

The head of Changhae Changga Don Quixote and one of the seven warriors who support the empire.

The Great Emperor of the Sea, who led the strongest cavalry army and the strongest navy, and ruled the Blue Sea.

And the father of ‘Don Quixote La Mancha Tudor’, one of the most notable heroes of the next generation among his peers.

As soon as Tudor opened the door, he could see his father, whom he longed to see.

However, the first emotion Tudor expressed when he saw his father for the first time was not sadness or joy.

“……?”

question. It’s nothing special.

It was a pure question that made me tilt my head, not knowing what I was seeing right now.

A bedroom with no lights on.

Something black was moving on top of the desolately large bed.

It was in the shape of a human being, but it was unusual that it was trembling slightly.

The moment Tudor took a step forward, not knowing what it was.

Pasasa sasasak-

It felt the presence of a person and began to make loud movements.

Innumerable black waves spread out in all directions around the bed.

“……!”

Only then did Tudor know the identity of the black things.

They were insects such as cockroaches, flies, ants, centipedes, and various small beetles.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee) –

the stench intensified, and at the same time the unpleasant flapping of wings resounded.

A naked landscape was revealed above the bed, which was teeming with an enormous number of vermin.

King Cervantes.

A superman who punched a hole in the mountain with one spear and split the sea with one swing of the spear.

A being that owned the most extensive territory among the 7 families of the Empire.

The lord of Madoros who ruled the entire sea.

He was lying on the bed, with only his skull and parched skin remaining.

With only the bones of the body infested with worms remaining, the two arms, which were scrawny, were tightly gripping the long spear sticks penetrating the stomach.

The stench and bugs were originating right there.

Puffed up –

Tudor sat down on the spot.

“…Ah, father.”

A voice muttering in despair.

It’s like you can’t believe what you’re seeing right now.

silence. ghastly silence.

Even in the grave, it couldn’t be quieter.

No one dared to open their mouth in front of the terrible situation in front of them.

And no one dared to speak to the fallen Tudor.

Best friend, best teacher, best father.

Witnessing the miserable words of such an existence, Tudor’s eyes were shaking mercilessly like a sailboat meeting a storm.

at that time.

“wait for a sec.”

Someone covered Tudor’s eyes from behind.

Bianca. With a trembling voice, she opened her mouth as if pleading in Tudor’s ear.

“Let’s stay like this for a while, huh?”

Bianca desperately hugged Tudor. Then, with trembling hands, he covered Tudor’s eyes.

After a long silence, Tudor opened his mouth like a crumbling dam spewing out water.

“……father!”

Tudor was silent for a long time after that.

Dolores, who was standing next to her, stepped forward.

With her bare hands, she scraped the bugs from the bed.

When the insects disappeared, Dolores covered Cervantes’ bare face with her handkerchief.

“This is my body, which I will offer for you. Ite missa est. Rest in peace. And go to a good place.”

Mass of the Virgin. It was a short but heartfelt farewell speech.

As soon as Bianca freed his hand, Tudor collapsed on top of Cervantes’ mummy, holding back his tears.

The sound of water filling a dry furrow.

Feelings of pain and sorrow, hatred and regret were swirling around.

“…You volunteered.”

Everyone, including Dolores, could infer the end of Cervantes.

Cervantes’ cause of death was clear to anyone.

Before the body, weakened by poison and psychic demons, was taken away by the devil, she held the spear upside down with her own will.

And with a thread unimaginable to ordinary people, with superhuman will and perseverance, he pierced the spear deep into his stomach and penetrated under the bed.

The vortex of black soot remaining on the bed, walls, floor, and ceiling clearly showed how desperately the devil tried to get hold of Cervantes’ soul and take over his body.

Dolores radiated divine power and scanned Cervantes’ body.

All the vicious remnants, including miasma, were being cleansed.

“You resisted the devil to the end, even with a weakened mind.”

“I know. I knew it. I kind of expected it, but…”

Tudor replied in a voice like seething lead.

It is only natural that Cervantes’ mentality was strong.

Because he was the ruler of the sea and the ruler of the plains.

……The question is what made his body, which was as strong as his soul, sick.

Dolores checked the floor under the bed.

The corpses of decaying insects are visible.

Those dried up and turned to powder must have been the first ones to attack Cervantes’ body.

“……I can feel the miasma. Along with the aura of a very terrible plague.”

Dolores said, fiddling with the corpses of bugs.

The worms that had long since rotted must have eaten and died from Cervantes’ poison-tainted body.

Cervantes’ body was also faintly tainted with poison.

Almost all of them had disappeared over time, but it was possible to grasp what kind of poison he suffered until his death.

It was something Dolores was familiar with.

‘……Red Death!’

I remember the first time I met Bikir in the past.

‘A plague is circulating in the slums.’

At that time, Dolores did not want to meet Vikir because she thought she was suspicious, but the matter brought by Vikir seemed so serious that they eventually talked.

It was then that he first came into contact with the terrifying plague known as the Red Death.

‘At that time, the experience of dealing with the red death in advance is a great help.’

Dolores knows this plague because she has been able to purify it herself.

The Red Death is an extremely poisonous plague created by Leviathan.

Even the poison that poisoned the spear king, Cervantes, seemed to be a much improved version.

‘It has become much more bitter and demanding. It’s to the extent that even the King of the Changs couldn’t do anything about it.’

The venom, which has faded over time, is enough to make you break out in a cold sweat.

Dolores remembered well this feeling of miasma in Cervantes.

Meanwhile. Tudor gnashed his teeth.

“… Extremely poisonous cancer Leviathan!”

These are the names of enemies who poisoned their father.

They are the beasts that created the hateful poison and plague called the Red Death.

Before long, Tudor’s gaze turned to the spear stuck in Cervantes’ abdomen.

‘Gungnir’ is a spear that symbolizes the head of the Don Quixote family.

Cervantes’ spearmanship, which boasted the speed of a flash and the heaviness of a tidal wave, could not be handled by ordinary spears.

While all kinds of spears made with the blood and sweat of famous masters were all broken, only this gungnir was strong enough and strong enough to properly implement Cervantes’ spearmanship.

Although it is heavy, it has a high mana conductivity and does not leave even a single scar no matter how strong the impact, so it is a myth that you do not even need to sharpen the blade.

Tudor grabbed the spearhead of Gungnir while shedding tears of blood.

“I will definitely kill Pasamonte to avenge my father. All those involved in this case will have to pay the price.”

Then an amazing thing happened.

Tsutsutsutsu……

Gungnir began to tremble slightly, and then slowly pulled out of Cervantes’ body.

It was like Cervantes moving his hand himself.

Tongue-

Like a magnet finding its mate, Gungnir came into Tudor’s grasp.

Tudor almost fell forward because of the weight of the gungnir the moment he gripped it, but he held onto it and endured.

Even Cervantes was holding Gungnir with one hand, which he handled with two hands, so even though the weight must be considerable, Tudor stood up without hesitation.

And like a lie.

Tsutsutsutsutsutsu…… Pulsuk-

Cervantes’ body, which had maintained its posture while being eaten by countless insects, began to crumble into powder.

There was no stench like before from his remains, which had turned to black and red ash and collapsed.

I can only feel the savory smell of the cigarettes I used to smoke.

right at that moment.

mate- mate- mate- mate- The

corner where the wall meets the wall In the inner corner that was locked in darkness, I saw someone get up with applause.

……!

The six night walkers, who had never felt the presence of a human being in the room, all of a sudden set their posture.

Before long, the face of the uninvited guest was revealed in the dim light.

A tall man with a slender body with a white face.

“You’ve finally been chosen. Gungnir.”

Don Quixote La Mancha Pasamonte.

No, it was the appearance of the fourth ten thousand poems, ‘Cimmeries’.

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Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound

Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound

Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound, Revenge of the Sword Clan's Hound
Score 8.8
Status: Completed Released: 2020
He was the hound of the Baskerville family: Vikir. Yet his loyalty was rewarded by the blade of a guillotine dirtied by slander. “I will never live the life of a hound slaughtered after the rabbit is caught.” In place of death, an unexpected opportunity awaits him. Vikir’s eyes glowed red as he sharpened his canines in the dark. “Just you wait, Hugo. I will rip out your throat this time.” It’s time for the hound to exact bloody revenge on his owner.

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