The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound
Chapter 223: That Day’s Story (4)Chapter 223 That Day’s Story (4)
[I can give you strength.]
It was a demon’s temptation. Quite literally, it was a demonl’s cunning approach.
However, Camus couldn’t refuse. There was no other way.
Underneath the pitch-black, airless cavern, on the cold stone floor, half-starved and on the brink of death, Camus had no choice but to make a contract, whatever the consequences.
“Alright. How do we proceed?”
[Easy. Once you die, I take possession of your body. Then, I fulfill your last wishes as if they were my own.]
“…Fine.”
[Oh? So quickly? You’re quite articulate. Smart indeed. It’s been worth observing you.]
The Demon laughed Demonishly at Camus.
Soon after, the Demon revealed her true identity.
[My name is Sere. I’m the eighth-ranked demon lord who came here from the demon realm to the human realm, hereby entering into a contract with a human named Camus Morg…]
One of the ten supreme demon lords, Sere.
She made a contract with Camus to fulfill her wishes after her death, in exchange for taking her body.
Camus sealed the contract just before the flames of her life extinguished.
Soon after.
Sssss…
Demon Sere merged with Camus’ body.
His
And as soon as Sere took control of Camus’s body, the first thing she felt was…
[What?! What’s this?! You haven’t fully died yet!?]
It was an immediate shock.
Camus, too, felt the presence of another personality in a corner of her body.
“Did master bestow this upon me?”
In the final moment, Snake Morg died, embracing all the damage that should have gone to Camus.
As a result, only half of Camus’ body died.
According to the contract, Demon Sere would take over Camus’ body only after her death. So, in this case, only half of the body belonged to Sere.
With control over half of Camus’s body, Sere began to pulse with life.
[This can’t be! It was definitely an impact you couldn’t withstand! I checked thoroughly! If it happens to a human, they should be dead by now! How are you still alive?!]
Sere averted her gaze and looked at the lifeless body of Snake in front of Camus.
[Aaargh! It’s that mage’s doing! Dammit! Even if the physical condition was a bit off, I could have snatched it from you!]
“Snatched?”
[Oh, no. Not snatched. I meant I should have received it through a legitimate contract.]
“Snatched, indeed. Hoho… Did you deceive me and try to hastily take only my body?”
[No! It’s not like that!]
Sere was seething in anger.
Ignoring her words, Camus raised her body.
It moved. Not as it used to, but the body was responsive.
However, there was a feeling that the parts controlled by Sere and the parts controlled by Camus didn’t match, creating an imbalance in the body.
In the end, Camus and Sere had to compromise.
[Dammit, it’s tangled up. Well, let’s do it this way. You can use this body for half of the day, and I’ll use it for the other half.]
“What will I gain from this?”
[You’re shameless. Without me, you would have already died and disappeared. Ah, dammit. I should have waited a bit longer until you starved to death.]
“Get to the point. What can you offer me in return for lending you my body?”
Frustrated with Camus’s persistence, Sere replied irritably.
[I can find hidden treasures, even if it’s a person. My dark magic, which resurrects corpses, complements that of a skilled necromancer.]
However, Camus seemed uninterested in the latter ability.
“You’re good at finding people?”
That ability alone was sufficient.
Camus entered into a dualistic contractual relationship with Sere.
They would take turns waking up when the other slept.
After Snake’s funeral, Camus resumed her search in the red and black mountain. However, she had informed the Morg clan that she would be undergoing secluded training with Snake.
Adolf expressed concern, but Lady Respane remained silent.
“Lady! How can you trust Count Snake, that scoundrel?”
“He maybe a scoundrel, but he is not someone who would bring harm to Camus.”
“But Count Snake is the Leader of the Dark Faction…! And he still hadn’t said anything!”
“…Do not speak of this matter any further.”
No one dared to defy the Matriarch of the Morg Clan.
Officially, the Morg Clan’s Count Snake and his disciple Camus, both Dark Faction representatives, began secluded training in the deep recesses of the family estate.
As time passed, the attention that had been focused on them gradually faded away.
During this time, Camus continued to search the wilderness alone but achieved no significant results. However, she found something peculiar deep in the woods.
“…What are these bones?”
The bones of a powerful sorcerer with intense resentment and magic laid scattered on the ground.
“Why would a sorcerer of this caliber die here?”
Camus immediately infused mana, creating a lich named Aheuman.
…After some time passed.
Camus, who had been absorbed in searching and researching, decided to emerge into the world after Rosie the undead, and many others disappeared.
“What? The undead I sent to the city disappeared?”
Sere also expressed annoyance.
[That’s probably Dantalian’s doing, that scoundrel. He has bad habits and enjoys taking what belongs to others. He probably saw well-made undead wandering the city and stole them to incorporate into his collection. Typical.]
Although Sere and Dantalian had come to the human realm together, their relationship seemed strained.
“Regardless of other undead, Rosie must be retrieved at all costs.”
Having been away from the mortal realm for too long, she had sent her to gather the latest news in the city.
Camus immediately left the forest to headed towards the city.
On the way to the Indulgentia Orphanage
Camus saw the desolate ruins, from which she could once see the Colosseo Academy from afar, after hearing about a festival that was about to take place.
“It’s none of my concern now.”
Since Vikir’s death, the academy held no significance for her.
Camus passed by the academy and headed straight to Indulgencia.
And…
“…!”
Camus witnessed the devastated ruins in a pitiful state.
.
Who could have destroyed Dantalian’s lair like this?
Camus hurriedly scanned the mana.
Fortunately, Rosie’s soul and body were here.
Though shattered into pieces, with Camus’s powerful dark magic, she could revive her.
[Dantalian, you thieving bastard. How dare you take what doesn’t belong to you…]
Ignoring the others, Camus resurrected only Rosie.
Sssss…
When she was just about to be revived.
“…Who’s there?”
Camus sensed that someone was observing her.
A figure in a black robe with a plague doctor raven mask.
A being emitting a sinister aura was watching her.
“Eighth Demon lord, Sere. So, you were my imitator.”
Eventually, a creepy voice modulation echoed from him.
Camus, unsure who imitated whom, raised an eyebrow.
[Who are you?]
“You don’t recognize me?”
[I don’t. Who are you?]
“Seems like you’re not interested in the affairs of the world. Don’t you read the newspapers?”
Camus chuckled lightly at his question.
[…Newspapers? Why would I bother with that? I have no lingering attachment to this world.]
After Vikir’s death, Camus had abandoned all interest in the world’s affairs, even those of her own family.
The mysterious figure then spoke.
“Well either way, demons must die.”
[If you can, give it a try.]
This was the first battle Camus engaged in against an equal opponent since becoming a dark sorcerer.
* * *
“…Huh!?”
Camus opened her eyes.
The battle with Night Hound was intense.
Especially, the aura that rose at the end was like the sun, nearly blinding her.
“What was that?”
Camus grabbed her throbbing head and pondered.
When Night Hound first drew his bow, she momentarily lost her senses.
The Ballak archery that led to Vikir’s death, if anyone used it, Camus couldn’t let them live.
However, as the battle continued, something felt off.
Night Hound, whom she thought was an archer, drew a sword and emitted an aura of a PEak Graduator.
Though too dazzling to see clearly, it was undoubtedly a sight she had seen somewhere before.
“C-Could it be?”
Numerous thoughts flashed through Camus’s mind.
What if—what if Vikir wasn’t really dead?
If he survived with injuries and entered the ballak tribe and later became the Night Hound?
“Come to think of it, that bow wasn’t ordinary. It was definitely crafted from that spider’s exoskeleton.”
Did Vikir recover and seek revenge against Madam Eight-Legs?
Maybe he’s alive and well and just didn’t come back due to amnesia or something.
“…Of course, it’s just a slim hope. But you never know, right?”
Originally, Camus had risked her life for that fleeting hope of being able to find and revive Vikir’s remains.
That night, she thought of the possibility of Vikir’s lucky survival.
Possibly avoiding being murdered by the ferocious Ballak tribe, being accepted as a member and learning their archery.
The possibility of learning exceptional archery from them.
Possibly killing the nightmare of the mountains, ‘Madam Eight legs.’
And all these possibilities overlapping and aligning.
Camus’ emotions were unknowingly stirred by this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Even though she was unconscious, she told Rosie not to kill Night Hound and instead to track him down.
“…Alright. Let’s go check it out.”
As soon as Camus recovered, she created an underground space beneath the unknown ruins.
And just in case, she had a ‘Life Vessel’ prepared there.
A Life Vessel was a vessel filled with highly concentrated dark mana, equivalent to a spare heart for a dark sorcerer.
In case of a critical situation, Camus could teleport with the help of Rosie to this place to ensure her survival.
“Understand, Rosie? If I fall, bring me here immediately. That way, I might survive.”
Rosie, hearing Camus’s solemn request, nodded slowly.
Although there was no expectation of coming here in the first place, having insurance in place was not a bad idea.
“Now it’s time to check.”
If Sere’s ability truly allowed her to ‘meet the one she wanted to meet,’ it was worth trying once.
Camus clenched her teeth.
Then, following the traces of Night Hound, she moved her steps to the darkened boulevard.
Whooosh- Boom- Boooom!
Fireworks adorned the night sky.
Heading towards the Colosseo Academy, where a festival was in full swing.
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