Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 485


Episode 485 The Marquis of Discord (3)

Tsutsutsutsutsutsu…

Darkness falls.

The vision is so dark that if you stretch out your arms, you can’t even count how many fingers you have.

But even in such darkness, some objects were unusually visible.

A person stood up in front of Bikir’s eyes.

“…Sergeant Janet.”

Bikir muttered in a broken voice.

The person standing in front of you must be familiar.

He was a comrade in the same unit before returning.

After that, one by one, familiar faces appeared.

Comrades left behind in the age of destruction. The superiors of his subordinates were standing there, bleeding, glaring at Vikir.

[Are you not coming back?]

[You could have brought us back to life.]

[Are you leaving your comrades behind?]

[Was the world after returning so comfortable?]

[Yes. Leave behind the sacrifices of your comrades and live well.]

[I only believed in you…]

They shouted at Bikir, shedding tears of blood.

A thick cold sweat dripped down.

The trauma deep inside her heart revived like an evil spirit and clamped down on Bikir’s heart.

[Did you return to flirt with women?]

[Did you really do your best to prevent the destruction of mankind?] [ Are you

still a demon hunter?]

[You don’t even remember the sacrifices of your comrades anymore!]

[……betrayer! ……Traitor!]

The ghosts of the past began to cry like a funeral song.

They opened their mouths wide enough to let their lower jaws fall out, and from inside they drew tongues sharp like spears and spat sharp words at Bikir.

…Fuck!

One tongue turned into a spear and flew into Bikir’s chest.

After that, numerous tongues were flying like daggers.

Pupper puck!

Vikir stepped back, feeling his entire body covered in blood.

I was surprised when I checked and the body was fine.

Was the blood fountain from just now a hallucination?

‘Andras’ specialty is playing with the other person’s mind. Never be deceived.’

Bikir desperately turned away from the spears and daggers that came into his heart.

at that time.

Bikir turned around and saw something different this time.

[Who are you to reject the contract without permission?]

[Don’t listen to our opinion?]

[You were born into an aristocratic family, though.]

[I was buried in a food waste bin right after I was born and died?]

[I am a coin locker on a magic train. It froze to death inside.]

[Ah-Ahh-]

There were children who had died at the nursery school.

Children who died shortly after birth or died soon after birth.

Beings who were forced to be born by their parents.

They were sending resentful glances toward Bikir.

And one girl standing at the front of the group of children.

[brother. No mister.]

Nymphet.

The child who became the first guilt after the regression that lost his life long ago.

The nymphet opened her mouth to Vikir.

[You said it well about the human desire for development and the instinct to rise… Do you have the right to say that?] ”

…That’s it.”

Bikir opened her mouth involuntarily.

But the nymphet didn’t wait for that.

[It comes through like an awl in your pocket? Hohoho- Are you referring to my tongue?]

The ghost with the face of a nymphet smirked and then spat out a tongue that looked like a long spear from its mouth.

…puck!

The words of the nymphet that had been lodged in Bikir’s chest were terribly sharp and cold.

just like this world.

Before long, his comrades-in-arms from the era of destruction and all the children who had died on this side of the world surrounded Bikir.

[A guy with no qualifications dares!]

[Hang it! Hang it!]

[Throw stones!]

[Kill! I have to kill it!]

At the same time, the daggers continue to pierce.

…puck! …puck! …puck! …Fuck!

It was not only lodged in the mind, but also lodged in the body.

It’s not a metaphor or a metaphor, it’s really hurting.

“……!”

Bikir drew Baalzebub long.

Kwak Kwa Kwa Kwam!

Baskerville Type 8. A level that can be climbed through extreme practical experience. The final destination of the living.

After this, it is the realm of the dead.

It is not a stage that can be passed over with a short human lifespan.

Bikir dissipated the darkness around her, baring eight teeth.

However, the daggers on the tongue that continued to fly were embedded in Vikir’s body.

‘Where are you?’

Bikir continued to run through the blinding darkness.

Andras’s voice resonated in Bikir’s ears.

[You will die here. But if you accept the contract even now, I can make everything happen.]

That voice sounded so sweet and cozy.

It feels like everything will be solved just by holding outstretched hands.

Just like the flower road of salvation promised to mankind.

……however.

Fuck!

Bikir stood firm despite the barrage of daggers piercing his chest.

The blood that has already flowed and the spears and daggers stuck in the floor have all changed horribly.

Truly, the thorny road of asceticism itself.

The flower road promised in front of me and the thorny road I had walked so far were indeed in stark contrast.

[Are you scared? Are you afraid? It will. Because human beings are like that. Now, even now…]

Andras’ voice sticks to my ears like honey.

however.

“The devil.”

The aura emitted by Bikir became more ferocious and rough.

“kill!”

The dark red half moon swarmed the surrounding black mist.

Bikir. The wounded hound let out a gasping breath as it stood on the thorny road.

The smell of blood spreads thickly, and the heated body warms the air around it.

“I am not afraid of death.”

Bikir had already died once.

No, two times if you combine the experience in Naraksu.

Besides that, the end of the oblique line passed countless times. The result is now.

“I’ve been decapitated on the guillotine, and I’ve tried to take my own life. It’s not a metaphor or a metaphor, it’s a real experience.”

A person who has experienced death many times that others have never experienced before.

A heterogeneous being who breathes in this place even after actually experiencing death.

Bikir moved his hand and raised the blade.

The sword that has always been my friend in the pass of countless deaths that I have overcome so far.

Bikir brandished his sword.

Perhaps it will be the last ritual of vomiting in one’s life.

The eight trails began to shine like guiding stars.

however.

Puff pup pup pup pup pup!

In the darkness, countless ghosts shot out tongue daggers, but they couldn’t help it.

Bikir knelt down, spewing blood.

“…”

Bikir lowered his head without even groaning.

The darkness lifted before him. Andras clicked his tongue and appeared.

[If it’s too strong, it will break.]

Andras gently touched Vikir’s bloody head with the tip of his toe.

[Dead? Hmm- Did you even die to your heart? Ah, I was wrong in controlling my power. Then where should I go to find the 2nd crown prince?]

Andras tearing out his hair. His expression was gradually turning into annoyance.

…Puff! …bang!

A roar from far away. An earthquake transmitted through the floor.

It seemed that the battle outside the imperial palace was getting fiercer and fiercer.

[I’ll have to sort out the things that are making a fuss outside first.]

Andras frowned as if he was annoyed.

Eventually, when Andras slowly turns his back on Vikir.

“… the devil.”

There was a moaning sound that could have been heard when the intestines were cut.

Vikir raised her unfocused eyes and looked at Andras.

“kill.”

[Hahahaha- There’s no such thing as a dog that’s been eaten by rats.]

Andras laughed as if it was absurd.

However, whether or not to do so, he moves his battered body slowly.

……one. …… two. …… three. …… Four. …… five. …… six. …… seven. …… eight.

All mana was depleted, and even a faint aura could not be emitted.

I’m moving my hand, but I can’t touch the teeth at the tips of my fingers.

Just before reaching the threshold of death, only the dry and crispy sensation that feels familiar now is repeated eight times.

Of course, Andras didn’t care about Vikir’s final outburst.

And because of that, Andras missed one thing.

……nine.

The ninth trajectory following the eighth sword ceremony.

And finally.

A terrifyingly intense light began to burst forth from the tip of Pat

– Bikir’s Baalzebub.

[……Hmm?]

Andras turned his head.

There, a bright light was exploding, enough to burn away his pupils, who were accustomed to the darkness, in an instant.

[Keep!?]

The tightly closed eyes are burning.

Clumps of acrid smoke were pouring out of his eyelids.

One bright spot. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

……and nine.

When Andras opened his eyes, they were small dots of light, but before he knew it, they turned into a huge cluster of lights that filled his entire field of vision.

[Even after setting foot in the realm of the supreme, there is something that only those who continue to run without rest with the same mindset as when they first grabbed the sword will gain something.] Cane Corso once said the description of the 8th meal

.

[You probably won’t be able to reach this stage in your lifetime. It’s because the realm of type 9 is beyond the threshold of death.]

Carnivorous.

A state that can only be reached by transcending all emotions.

Seventh.

A state that can only be reached by recovering abandoned emotions.

Eighth.

A state that can only be reached by going to and fro countless times with a sword in hand.

and outdated.

Among the highest realms that only those who have truly experienced death can climb, the most incomprehensible zone is at the core.

“…”

Bikir was staring blankly at the nine trails shining through his fading vision.

The voice of a Cane Corso that I had heard over the turbulent darkness faded.

[This stage is an area that denies all common human understanding, empathy, conviction, common sense, probability, and causality. A being who has never experienced death can never set foot in this place.

] but. I’m sure you’re at an age where you haven’t even thought about death properly yet.]

[You’re not ready yet.]

Words I couldn’t understand at the time.

……But now, for some reason, I seem to be able to understand a little bit.

The heterogeneous being, who had experienced death several times despite being alive, witnessed countless other deaths that had been missed at the fingertips.

And a certain realization that came suddenly at the crossroads of life and death opened a new door somewhere on the other side of the other side.

Vikir reached out and peered into the world beyond the door.

It is one point among those that have been split into very short moments and scattered into innumerable pieces.

The upper level of the supreme realm that I looked into in such a short time.

The scenery of the place that I looked into with my mind’s eye remained as it was, as if it were burnt and etched on my retina.

Then, as I absentmindedly moved my hand along the trace, it soon became the trail of a living star cluster.

…Sparkle!

Finally, the ninth tooth began to show itself.


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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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