The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 205 Mixed Bath (3)

Vikir was a bit, no, quite taken aback.

“Choco~ Big sister is here too. Let’s bath together!”

The holy maiden Dolores entered the bathroom.

Dolores L Quovadis, who was she?

A saintess of the fallen era, the heroine of turbulent times who healed the wounded and punished wicked beings.

She was evaluated beyond the likes of Saint Jandark or Saint Theresa, widely known across the continent during the era of destruction.

In the “Era of Destruction” where blood flowed like rivers and corpses piled like mountains, Dolores’s authority and sanctity were truly on par with that of a goddess.

…However?

Vikir never expected to witness Dolores entering the bath with his own eyes.

Vikir closed his eyes tightly, suppressing his embarrassment.

Naturally, he felt no impure emotions like lust.

‘…But regardless, if my comrades see this scene, they’ll surely try to kill me.’

To his comrades who fought together in the war against the demon realm, Dolores was a goddess.

During those times, everyone owed her their lives, whether they were big or small.

As a result, if Vikir’s comrades discover him in such a state in the bath with Dolores, they will undoubtedly be outraged.

Comrades of the holy knight order would unquestionably draw their swords in the name of sanctity.

‘Comrades, I apologize. I’ll quickly leave this place.’

Feeling a pang of guilt, Vikir hurriedly tried to get out of the bathtub.

Of course,

“Choco, where are you going? You should bathe with Noona!”

Dolores grabbed Vikir’s body with a bright smile and submerged him into the bath.

Gradually, Dolores began to wash Vikir’s body with light soap bubbles.

“Oh my, why does a young one like you have so many wounds on your body? Did you fight with other puppies?”

Vikir remained silent, closing his eyes and trying not to move as much as possible.

But there was no way to escape the gentle touch that roamed all over his body.

‘Wasn’t Rune supposed to be a causality-regulating entity? If that’s the case, the gods of this world are clearly delusory about their obscene selves.’

Vikir muttered to himself, committing sacrilege in his heart.

Meanwhile, Dolores, holding Vikir, entered the bathtub with herbal bath salts.

“Ah, it’s warm. Don’t you think so, Choco?”

Vikir remained silent.

“I’ve bathed you so diligently, but you won’t bathe me. It’s a bit unfair, isn’t it?”

Vikir had to commit sacrilege in his heart once again.

On the other hand, regardless of that, Vikir felt that his body was gradually recovering.

The injuries he suffered from the lich and the Carnal Flesh golem, which weren’t easily healed even with the regeneration ability of the Fog Lizard, were healing rapidly.

His aura, which had bottomed out and was slowly recovering, was now filling up rapidly.

Dolores, noticing that Vikir had closed his eyes and wasn’t moving, spoke as if amused.

“Oh my? Did you close your eyes? Feeling good, Choco, huh? Oogoo-oogoo~”

However, Vikir was thinking something entirely different.

‘To reach the level of a Swordmaster, I need to change my training methods.’

A righteous thought… no, a thought to walk the path of balance.

Vikir began to analyze his mana proficiency and swordsmanship proficiency in detail.

The current state of the aura he could emit was at the level of a Gooey honey like liquid just about turning solid, in other words, the Peak Graduator.

His swordsmanship was at the level of barely reaching the beginning of Baskerville’s 7th style.

To reach the level of a Swordmaster, he needed to solidify the density of his aura to a solid level and, furthermore, master the 7th style perfectly.

‘…Baskerville’s 7th Style.’

Currently, the only one who has mastered the 7th style was Vikir’s father, Hugo Le Baskerville.

Compared to the 7th style displayed by Hugo when he slew Andromalius in the past, there was a tremendous gap between Hugo’s 7th style and Vikir’s 7th style.

‘The fangs of Baskerville are for tearing, chewing, cutting, crushing, and grinding the prey. The swordsmanship itself resembles the upper and lower jaws of a hunting dog. Especially, the coordination between the sixth and seventh fangs is crucial for performing the ultimate assassination skill ‘Twin Ambush Fangs.’….’

Intentionally, Vikir diligently rolled his head. However, Vikir’s determination quickly shattered.

“Wow, look at these pink paws”

Dolores lifted Vikir’s front paw and gave it a kiss. In addition to that, she petted his head, squeezed his cheeks, touched his chin, and caressed his belly. It was impossible to organize any thoughts amidst this affectionate love bomb.

Eventually, Dolores wiped the foam from Vikir’s nose with her own nose and said, “Dogs usually give a lot of kisses.”

“…”

“But Choco, you don’t give me any. I feel disappointed.”

“…”

“Are you sure you’re not something other than a dog? This seems suspicious.”

Dolores embraced Vikir’s cheeks and laughed. And at that moment, Vikir’s heart sank with a thud.

“If she finds out I’m not a dog, it’s over.”

If that were to happen, he couldn’t even imagine the terrible things that might unfold. Perhaps he would have to face a bloody slaughter against the entire Quovadis Clan, driven by anger.

“If that happens, even Baskerville might have to get involved.”

Baskerville Clan, supporting the empire, and Quovadis Clan, the religious leader of the empire. If a war were to break out between these two families, it would be on a scale as massive as the wars between nations during the nationwide chaos before the unification of the empire.

In that case, closing his eyes and enduring it might be the better option. Before the impending war against the demon realm, causing internal strife among humans was out of the question.

…In many ways, it couldn’t be helped.

“Sorry, my comrades.”

Vikir closed his eyes and committed an act he had never done in his entire life.

Smack.

He licked Dolores’s cheek with his tongue.

And receiving this unexpected kiss(?) from Vikir, Dolores exclaimed, “Kyaa! So cute!”

She hugged Vikir tightly and showered him with kisses, another unexpected turn of events.

* * *

The never-ending bath finally came to an end. Dolores, who came out of the bathroom, lay on the bed with only her body dried. Starting from the third year, each person had their own room, so the bed was narrow, suitable for one person.

Covering herself with a blanket, Dolores tightly hugged Vikir (In dog Form).

“I’m lucky to have someone to talk to before falling asleep today.”

Vikir couldn’t avoid her lips, which once again touched his nose.

Eventually, Dolores, lying down while embracing Vikir, opened her mouth.

“Many people come to me for advice, confessing their sins and seeking forgiveness and repentance.”

“…”

“But ironically, I have nowhere to confess my own worries and sins. Where should I confess and repent?”

Vikir closed his eyes and thought quietly. Previously, during the battle with Dantalian, when the awakened Dolores casted a buff on him, Vikir experienced a strong soul connection with her.

The feelings that Dolores transmitted at that time now resurfaced in his mind.

[People confess their sins and worries to me, but who do I confess to and share my worries with?]

Sometimes, just talking to a god is not enough. There are moments when one wants to talk to another human being.

Oddly enough, Dolores had been confiding in Vikir about her biggest concern lately.

“I wonder if I have to age and die as a saint, never having held a man’s hand in my life?”

At the same time, Dolores tightly grasped Vikir’s front paw.

She closed her eyes and whispered into Vikir’s ear.

“In reality, there’s a man who’s been bothering me a bit these days.”

This revelation was somewhat unexpected. Vikir perked up one ear.

Who could be the man who shook the heart of the renowned Dolores Quovadis?

‘I don’t know who it is, but… it seems like he’s going to become an enemy to many men.’

Vikir thought to himself.

If Dolores had said something like this during the Era of Destruction, many men would have been furious.

On the other hand, while hugging Vikir, Dolores was drawing the face and name of a man she didn’t know in her mind.

Night Hound.

A man who saved her from a terrifying demon, prevented a dreadful plague, and accepted her with strong arms.

Isn’t that kind of man the only one who can handle her?

Dolores thought so.

Although his identity was unknown, he seemed like a good person. A handsome man.

Despite having the strength to defeat a powerful demon, he helped the suffering poor and understood her struggles.

‘And… according to that demon’s words back then, he’s supposed to have a very handsome face.’

Dolores blushed for a moment.

While she didn’t think a person’s appearance was important… well, there was nothing wrong with being handsome, right? That’s what she decided.

After finishing the bath and lying naked on the smooth blanket, sleep started to gently come.

‘Right, there’s still something I need to do today. I have to send a letter to the Pope and ask about the ‘awakening’ and ‘resonance’ phenomena of the saintess…’

However, as the weight of her eyelids became heavy, Dolores eventually succumbed to sleep.

The saintess fell into a deep sleep with a refreshing face after talking for a long time.

And.

“…”

Night Hound gazed down at her sleeping face.

Eventually.

Creak.

The window opened.

“…I owe you.”

Night Hound, now fully recovered, began to blend back into the darkness.

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