The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

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Chapter 162: Sins and Punishment (1)

And thus I clothe my naked villainy with old odd ends stolen forth from holy writ and seem a saint when most I play the devil.

-William Shakespeare, “Richard III”

Quilt

The head of the Indulgentia family, a sub-family of the Quodavis clan, and a devoted follower of the Rune faith. He was also an honorary mayor entangled with the royal family and a compassionate orphanage director who cared for wayward children. However, all of this was just a facade, and behind it lay the face of a vile demon.

Quilt looked down at Geronto’s lifeless body with a wicked smile. “Heh heh heh! You’ve made quite a mess.”

His gaze shifted to the four black sack-like cloth protruding from Vikir’s cloak – Ephebo, Hebe, Pedo, and Geronto all wore on their face.

Quilt grimaced with a hint of annoyance. “Have all four of them been defeated? I borrowed them from that woman, and now they’re in such a state… She’s going to raise hell again.”

His actions were theatrical, as if he were a performer on stage berating the audience in a humorous fashion.

On the other hand, Dolores, who had observed Quilt’s consistently relaxed demeanor, stepped forward with anger. “You! How can you commit such vile acts while wearing the mask of a saint? Bringing demons into an orphanage!? What’s your hidden agenda?”

“Heh heh heh! Hidden agenda, you say? Didn’t you see yourself what you discovered beneath the grounds of Quovadis’ orphanage, convent, and hospital?”

For a moment, Dolores was puzzled and tilted her head.

Then, realization dawned upon her. Quilt was referring to the bones, the remains of humans, particularly infants.

“Babies! You feed on humans! And babies, at that! You really are a demon!”

“Eating a few babies, or ‘infant cannibalism,’ as you call it. I mean, it’s not a surefire way to label someone as a demon. Many people do it, not just me. Even those esteemed people do.”

“What did you say!?”

Dolores was flabbergasted, her mouth wide open.

But Quilt remained nonchalant. “There are esteemed people who take an interest in ingredients they’ve never tasted before as they ascend to higher realm. After I introduced a few to them, it naturally became a trend.”

“Nonsense!”

“Ah heh heh. Nonsense, you say. Not really. Even in Quovadis, there are plenty.”

Dolores seemed to be genuinely shocked, stumbling and almost losing her balance.

Quilt continued to chuckle as he spoke, “I understand you may be shocked. But, my dear Saintess, humans often wear multiple faces. Just because someone appears to be a faithful servant on the surface doesn’t mean they don’t have darker sides. Have you never had an embarrassing face, something you’d deny in public? A moment when your hypocrisy boiled beneath a mask of sanctity?”

Dolores’s pupils trembled.

She had, indeed, acted against her faith in a shameful way recently.

Vikir, a male student from the same academy, from the same club, and the same organization.

Dolores’ was older than him. Recently, due to her drinking during a board game, she accidentally offended Vikir by urinating on his pants. To avoid the situation, she even resorted to some underhanded actions, putting the blame on him, even if it wasn’t intentional.

But that’s not all. If you look closely, there’s the “urination” incident, and on a larger scale, there are many more incidents.

She’s the Holy Lady who is supposed to love and embrace all humans, the heir of the family who is expected to uphold family tradition, the leader of the New Testament faction opposing the Old Testament faction, the model student who must be a source of pride for the school, the student council president who must be a role model for juniors, the newspaper club chief who must always be fair and just, and more.

Ultimately, she, too, has many faces, along with the accompanying burdens, pressures, feelings of inferiority, hatred, laziness, and various other desires.

That’s why Dolores stood there speechless for a moment, and then…

“Uh, thank you… I guess?” she hesitantly replied, filled with various emotions.

The hand that touched her shoulder was rough and sturdy, but it felt warm. Night Houndstood right next to Dolores, offering comforting words. “It’s okay to make mistakes; that’s what makes us human.”

At that moment, Dolores felt as if the overwhelming pressure that had been bearing down on her was suddenly lifted. Not just the pressure of facing a demon but all the burdens she had felt while living up to her responsibilities as the saintess, student council president, family heir, leader of the New Testament faction, and more.

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The comforting words from Night Hound were like a small salvation. She found herself instantly at ease. But this was more than just the relief of facing a demon.

Dolores had felt an abundance of various types of pressure and expectations because of her roles as the saintess, student council president, family heir, and more. Night hound’s words seemed to alleviate all of them.

But Dolores quickly snapped out of it. “Aha! I can’t afford to let go like this!”

Dolores slapped her own cheek. Night Hound was at her side, and his rough, yet warm hand offered her comfort.

But Dolores couldn’t afford to be relieved now. She was the saintess, the heir to the Quovadis Clan, the leader of the New Testament faction, a model student at school, the student council president, the newspaper club chief, and more.

She needed to be a pillar of support, not rely on someone else.

However, no matter how firmly she resolved not to get distracted, her gaze kept involuntarily drifting toward the Night Hound’s broad shoulders.

Meanwhile, Quilt squinted his eyes and assessed Vikir.

“Who are you exactly? Did you attack my subordinates recently? Ephebo said that he recently suffered a setback, and it must be your doing.”

“Are you going to keep asking when you already know?”

Vikir responded with a low growl, and a smile tugged at the corners of Quilt’s lips as he looked at him.

Quilt, the master of the Indulgentia family, could probably cook Vikir alive with his mere words. But he wasn’t planning on it.

“Fine. I’ve been getting tired of this middle-aged actor’s face anyway. I wanted a younger and prettier one. You know, I have a hobby of collecting really pretty faces. Just like yours,” Quilt said, using his unique abilities related to “faces” and “masks” to see beneath Vikir’s plague doctor mask.

Meanwhile, Dolores, hearing his words, turned to look at Vikir.

‘…Oh my! Night Hound seems to be handsome. Quite unexpectedly.’

She couldn’t see Vikir’s face under the mask, but based on Quilt’s words, she could only guess.

‘Is even the demon attracted to his beauty, enough to make the demon’s mouth water?’

However, while Dolores was intrigued, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for being interested in Quilt’s words.

On the other hand, Quilt continued to ramble on.

“Hohoho! I’ve always admired Saint Dolores’ skin too, and it’s worked out really well. More than that, I’ve got an even prettier face in my hands. This is such good luck. Today, two new faces will be added to my collection!”

But he couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Die.”

Vikir’s voice echoed briefly.

Szzzk.

Quilt’s head was split into two, with his black blood spraying out. It was clear that he hadn’t fully revealed his power until now.

Quilt fell to the ground, and Vikir lightly landed behind him.

This wasn’t a pathetic ending for Quilt. It was more accurate to say that Vikir hadn’t fully revealed his strength so far. However, Dolores didn’t know that.

And then…

“Of course, this isn’t the end,” Vikir warned Dolores. “Get ready. From now on, the real deal is coming.”

To demonstrate his point, Quilt stood up from the ground. His split head miraculously merged back together.

“What… is this?”

Quilt’s two eyeballs looked incredibly red and swollen, as if they weren’t normal eyes but rather the eyes of a demonic hunter.

Only a demon could have a sense of smell so acute, like a demon hunter. This smell had been well hidden within his mask and black fur until now.

Vikir was finally starting to reveal his true strength.

Szzzzzzzzz.

Dark and red energy began to swirl and envelop Vikir’s entire body.

As the hidden power and aura burst forth, the countless monster sould that Night Hound reaped in numerous battlefields showed their teeth.

The scent of countless drops of blood naturally began to fill the air. Monsters blood, and among them, the most recent one was from one of the Ten supreme Demon (Ranked 10th), Andromalius!

The death mark left by Andromalius was deeply etched into Vikir’s soul and body, enhancing his spirit and making him even more robust.

Upon smelling this scent, Quilt’s smile vanished completely.

“Could it be that because of you… Andromalius lost contact…” he wondered.

Vikir didn’t respond, but he increased the aura he’d been hiding, which in turn made the scent of Andromalius’s blood grow even stronger.

Realizing that Andromalius had died, Quilt couldn’t help but burst into an anguished lament.

“Oh! To open the gate to the Demon Realm, ten Demon Lords must gather their magic! And now, this idiot Andromalius has gone, increasing the burden on the remaining nine! You fool!”

As his voice grew more distorted, Quilt’s appearance began to change.

“This is unforgivable! Our great plan… it’s been delayed by another ten years!”

His voice was filled with sorrow and cries of despair. It was so horrifying that just listening to it could make one feel nauseated.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

Finally, Quilt began to throw off the tatters of his human disguise and started to reveal his true form.

“Hrk!?”

Dolores stepped back in shock.

But Vikir, standing firm, watched all of this unfold with a calm demeanor.

‘He’s finally showing himself.’

Ranked 9th among the [Ten Corpses], one of the supreme Demon Lords, Dantalian!

Vikir had been preparing for this moment for a long time.

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