The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

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Chapter 167 Sins and Punishment (6)

Dolores felt something snap in her mind as Dantalian transformed into Nymphet, a tether of reason that had always been held in a calm disposition.

It burst at that precise moment, leaving her in an unexpected, almost irrational emotional state. These intense emotions unintentionally unleashed a power she was unaware of.

And that raw emotion and power was directed at one person: Vikir, the Night Hound.

Empowered by the buff conveyed through Dolores’s soul, Vikir, who was originally a Peak Graduator, crossed over to an entire new realm.

Swordmaster.

The amplified solid aura coursing through his body now emanated from Beelzebub, spewing forth with every swing.

Swish, swish, swish, swish!

From gas to liquid, and from liquid to solid, the aura, heated to its limit, solidified, like how blood solidifies when it’s heated.

Then it began to spin in a circle, following the laws of mana.

Kiiiiing-

The solidified aura surrounding the blade spun at breakneck speed, nearly invisible to the naked eye, its movements resembling a swarm of chainsaws spinning in unison.

Whirrrrrr!

With a light swing, Vikir’s blade effortlessly sliced through rocks and pieces of metal debris, causing sparks to scatter. And this was only a fraction of his power.

‘…This is incredible,’ Even Vikir, who was usually indifferent to everything, was taken aback.

Is this how it felt to be a Master? Did Hugo live like this? With this unimaginable power on his palms?!

Vikir couldn’t help but wonder if he now understood why Hugo had treated lower-ranking people with such disdain.

Everyone else is an ant before this power.

“Hugo, in my past life rose two more levels in the realm of swordmaster…”

It would soon become evident that there were different tiers within the Swordmaster realm.

Vikir, temporarily elevated to low-tier Swordmaster through Dolores’ blessings, intended to etch this sensation into his body, as he would have to reach this level without buffs in the future.

On the other hand,

[Arghhh!]

Dantalian was being torn apart while still alive.

Vikir slashed and cut Dantalian’s body with the high-speed rotating aura blade here and there.

Though Beelzebub, was primarily used for thrusting, it now excelled in slashing as well. This change didn’t weaken its piercing power.

‘Despite the significant increase in combat power, this feeling of omnipotence… It’s like I can do anything.’

Vikir was, for the first time in a while, in an incredibly good mood.

The soul’s resonance felt as if Dolores had tailored and fitted him with a new outfit that fits perfectly, as if she knew the sizes and positions of his internal organs and veins. It was truly an exhilarating sensation.

Dolores’ buff warmed Vikir’s entire body, accelerating the flow of mana.

His veins expanded, and blood and mana flowed even faster.

His aura amplified and became solid.

This was the result of the “soul’s resonance”

And Vikir had some knowledge of this phenomenon.

Yes, before his regression, Saintess Dolores only bestowed this buff on a few heroes in the entirety of the war.

During the time of the impending apocalypse, only a handful of beings were fortunate enough to receive Dolores’ blessing.

Dolores didn’t discriminate or distinguish among those she healed, but she was extremely cautious when it came to her buffs.

Only a handful of great heroes with the power to maximize the effects of her buffs could receive them.

The head of the Baskerville Clan, Hugo Le Vasqueville, and Morg’s leader ‘Camus Morg’, were among these heroes. But what about now? Vikir was the sole recipient of Dolores’ buff. It meant that Dolores deeply acknowledged and understood him, though, unfortunately, Vikir wasn’t aware of this. He merely considered himself lucky.

On the other hand, Dolores felt as if her body and Vikir’s body had completely fused into one. It was not just a physical amalgamation; it felt as though their souls had merged. Even if this was a temporary phenomenon, it provided her with great comfort and empathy.

She had often pondered, ‘People in the world confess their sins and share their worries with me, but to whom do I confess my sins and share my concerns?’

Sometimes, conversing with the lord alone wasn’t sufficient, and she longed to talk to another human being. But she had never been able to share her inner turmoil with anyone, driven by her role as school’s president, or Quovadis’ saint, or her role as a daughter, always required to maintain a poised and elegant appearance.

However, during this occasion, she had cast aside all such concerns and loneliness. She poured all her emotions into the broad back in front of her, which belonged to the Night Hound, her “Soul Companion.”

Clang, clang, clunk, crackle!

Vikir pushed Dantalian with an extraordinary force, unlike his usual self. Dantalian, suffering from burns due to Dolores’ white divine Flame, couldn’t withstand the sudden onslaught of Vikir’s aura.

Before long, Vikir extended his blade, intending to sever Dantalian’s throat. Numerous faces clustered around Dantalian’s head, like grapes on a vine.

Just then, Dantalian played his final card. [Brother, save me!]

Nymphet. Her face turned towards Vikir.

Was that all? All the children from the orphanage began to cry out towards Vikir.

[Brother, I wanna live!]

[If this demon dies, we die too!]

[Brother, please! Please don’t kill this demon!]

[This murderer! Does he think we’re expendable!?]

Dantalian’s plan seemed to be working at first. Vikir’s blade slowed down ever so slightly. And then, seizing the moment, Dantalian gathered all his magic and launched a sneak attack.

Crack!

Dantalian’s tongue gathered in dozens to form a single spear, which struck Vikir’s heart directly.

“…!”

Vikir couldn’t even scream. He was sent flying and crashed into two stone pillars, buried in the debris.

“No!”

Dolores exclaimed in astonishment, but it was too late.

Dantalian, with his bloodied body, rose to his feet and smirked darkly.

[Hehehe! In battles between masters, a single move can change the outcome.]

Soon, he approached the stunned Dolores with a wicked smile.

Stealthily, the face at the forefront once again transformed into that of a stern middle-aged man. The leader of the Old Testament Faction, Cardinal Humbert.

[My daughter, I am endlessly disappointed in you.]

“…!”

[You were sent to the academy to elevate the family’s prestige, and this is the trouble you’ve caused? Are you pleased to publicize the family’s disgrace?]

Humbert’s face twisted with a disdainful expression as if he found her pitiable.

[I believed in you, Dolores, that you would become a better person.]

“…!”

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At that moment, Dolores’s small and frail body began to tremble once more. “…Night Hound.”

The previous time, Vikir had helped her overcome the terrifying manifestation of Humbert from the sack of Terror. But this time, Night Hound wasn’t there to save her. She cowered in fear, her previous confidence lost. It was as if she were trapped inside an eggshell.

Crack!

Humbert’s face contorted with a wide grin, and his jaw, with no hinge joint, opened endlessly, like a giant serpent’s maw. It was as though he intended to swallow Dolores, imprisoned within the eggshell, whole.

Dantalian tried to devour Dolores with a sinister smile,

[Now, offer your face to me… Bit-!?]

But Dantalian’s voice was abruptly cut off.

With a sudden eruption of aura, a black blade cleaved through Dantalian’s throat without a sound. Vikir stood behind him, his eyes chillingly cold.

[How…? I should’ve cut through his heart…?] Dantalian, with Nymphet’s face, stuttered.

Instead of replying, Vikir opened his black coat.

Chk-chk-chk-chk…

Inside, there was a black sphere with golden markings.

Madam Eight leg’s egg. It had shielded Vikir’s heart from Dantalian’s attack, despite the slight damage to its shell.

Vikir tucked it back into his embrace.

“I don’t have much to say…”

In that instant, Vikir beheaded Dantalian.

“Go back to hell.”

That was Dantalian’s final moment.

…Thud! …Th-thud! Clatter!

Dantalian’s many faces fell to the ground and rolled along the floor.

However…

[Brother… Brother… I’m in so much pain…] Dantalian’s lingering will remained.

Under Nymphet’s face… her arms and legs slowly began to regenerate. It was as though it wanted to crawl away, moving hesitantly across the floor.

But Vikir blocked its path. His gaze was unwavering, with no hint of emotion.

…Squish!

The final blade pierced Nimphet’s torso.

With that, Nimphet’s movements came to a halt.

[…]

She looked up with eyes that seemed like they could tear up at any moment.

[Thank you… big brother…]

Only then did Vikir’s gaze waver.

“….”

Vikir knelt cautiously, cradling Nymphet’s face in his hands. Nimphet, despite her crumbling form, struggled to lift herself and wrapped her arms around Vikir’s neck.

Kiss…

And then, Nimphet lightly kissed Vikir’s cheek.

Tsk, tsk, tsk…

Before long, everything disappeared. All the darkness vanished, leaving behind only the ruins and debris.

Dolores’s hand, which had approached unnoticed, gently clasped Vikir’s hand.

“Night Hound… Are you alright?”

Even though she had just struggled against Humbert’s illusion, her first concern was Vikir’s well-being.

At that moment…

Tak!

A metallic sound echoed through the gaps between the fallen pillars.

Vikir and Dolores both turned their heads simultaneously.

Glimmering brightly was a golden necklace with the engraved letters “Nymphet.”

It became a name that’ll stay etched into their minds forever.

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