Revenge of the Iron-blooded Sword Hound

[Translator - Clara]

[Proofreader - Lucky ]

Chapter 462: Infiltration Operation at the Water Supply Area (9)

[Oh, it’s the demon hunter from back then. Is this the first time since the trial?]

“…….”

Vikir didn’t answer Phlorosya' question. Talking to a demon was exhausting in itself and he didn't find it worth responding to. So, Vikir decided to offer just a short remark.

“Die.”

The demonic sword Beelzebub emitted a dark red aura.

…Flash!

Knowing there was no guarantee of a one-hit kill, Vikir chose his most confident move: the 4th style. A technique that draws four fangs. It was the strongest attack in his past life and the most convenient in his current life. It consumed almost no mana and was more natural than breathing to him.

Vikir’s sword technique perfectly covered four directions, tearing apart Phlorosya' space. However, Phlorosya' spear-handling skills were quite advanced.

‘Poisonous Spear Ouroboros.’ A deadly weapon, a terrifying artifact that created crimson death.

Phlorosya smirked.

[One of the seven great demonic swords… among them, Beelzebub? A fine weapon you have. But there are many other weapons made from the remains of ancient demon lords. Back then, demon constellations were numerous. My spear is one such weapon.]

The two majestic weapons clashed fiercely, creating countless sparks.

Boom!

A crimson specter clashed with a black sun. Vikir was already fighting Phlorosya at full power.

“Ptuh-”

Vikir spat out red saliva tainted by the red death and retreated. Madam Eight leg’s poison was running rapidly within his body.

The boiling poison coursed through his veins, consuming all the invading Red Death poison. Such a violent reaction was rare, probably because it perceived the red death as a formidable rival.

…Crack!

The Poisonous Spear Ouroboros pressed down on the demonic sword Beelzebub with its two tips. Simultaneously, the shaft made from Abyss tree struck Vikir's head.

“……!”

Vikir tilted his head back to avoid it, but a scar appeared on his forehead. A wound too severe to be easily healed even by the regenerative powers of a basilisk.

[The shaft is carved from a fragment of Abyss tree. I obtained some fragments when Amdusias was annihilated.]

Phlorosya’ eyes still sparkled with ease as he grinned maliciously.

At that moment.

“Vikir!”

“Lord Vikir!”

“Big Brother!”

Red, white, and gold. Three dazzling lights radiated from Vikir’s sides and behind him. Camus, Dolores, and Sinclaire were supporting Vikir.

Soon, Camus unleashed a fiery barrage, Dolores conjured holy power, and Sinclaire's magic and financial might combined, all directed at Phlorosya.

Crackle! Crackle!

The immense invisible forces collided and distorted with a loud noise. The ground quaked repeatedly, altering the surrounding scenery.

Even amidst the power struggle, Phlorosya looked at Vikir and his companions with a curious expression and spoke.

[You fight so earnestly for others. Confronting me brings no benefit to you individually, yet…]

Combining forces to fight—indeed, a scene incomprehensible to a demon.

Demons were fundamentally beings engaged in a 'struggle of all against all.' Since demons are a concept defined by humans, they don't even belong to the same species. For instance, Andrealphus, the third corpse and Cimera the fourth Corpse were as biologically distinct as a goldfish and a grasshopper.

Vikir, aware of this, could somewhat understand Phlorosya' bewilderment.

“Perhaps it’s hard for beings like you to understand this sentiment.”

[Isn’t that the same for you? After all, humans are just inferior versions of demons. Demons could perform your role in this world much better.]

Phlorosya sneered as he continued to thrust his spear. Despite the trembling spear, the demon's tongue flickered like a snake.

[By now, my Poison troops must have begun their siege. I wonder how long your comrades at Tochka will hold out.]

“……!”

Vikir gritted his teeth. It seemed the Poison Humans of Reviadon had finally launched their extermination campaign on the Tochka. It was uncertain how long those who had been enduring without water could fend off the powerful mutated troops. Although it was fortunate that Warden Orca and Marquis Sade were there, the overwhelming difference in forces was undeniable.

[You have no hope. You couldn’t find water, and you can’t protect your comrades. I eagerly anticipate the expressions on your faces when you see all the humans at the Tochka turned into Poison Humans.]

The expressions of the entire strike force twisted upon hearing Phlorosya’ words. But they had nothing to refute. So, Camus, Dolores, Sinclaire, Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, and Bianca all ground their teeth and glared.

…All except Vikir.

“You underestimate human potential.”

Phlorosya narrowed his eyes at Vikir’s words, surprised.

[Is this a situation that can be resolved by potential?]

“Time will tell.”

[I think I know. Hahaha—you seemed the most realistic among them, was I wrong?]

“That’s precisely why I’m saying this.”

[……?]

Having finished speaking, Beelzebub stretched even longer. The eighth form. The black sun spun more fiercely, crushing Phlorosya.

Soon, Vikir and Phlorosya were close enough to touch noses.

Creak- Crack!

At the forefront where their energy clashed, Vikir whispered into Phlorosya' ear.

“The future isn’t something to predict lightly. The moment you predict it, it changes again.”

[…….]

“Just like now.”

[……?]

As Phlorosya tilted his head in confusion.

…Thud!

His vision flickered black for a moment. Phlorosya felt a shock as if his neck had been ripped out, and his head jerked violently. A thick iron arrow the size of a child's arm was quivering in his temple.

An arrow far stronger than anything Bianca had shot. How strong must the bowstring be to shoot such a large and thick projectile? How powerful must the arm drawing it be?

Moreover, Phlorosya had experienced such a powerful arrow once before. A single moment of carelessness had nearly led to his downfall. The night when his life was genuinely in danger.

[…No way!?]

As Phlorosya turned his head in shock.

Thud-

Another arrow flew in, piercing Phlorosya right between the eyes.

[Urgh!?]

Phlorosya staggered back, black blood spraying everywhere. Behind him, a slender shadow flickered on the cliff.

“Long time no see, husband.”

A brief greeting to Vikir came from a female warrior. Seeing her face, Vikir couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Aiyen. The Chief of Ballak, formerly imprisoned in Nouvellebag’s Level 10.

Aiyen smiled at Vikir and greeted the Night Walkers behind him.

“Some familiar faces, some not. Anyway, nice to meet you.”

“Hey! Where do you get off acting all friendly!?”

Camus ground his teeth, shouting, causing Aiyen’s eyes to narrow.

“What? Want to get stripped and spanked?”

“Argh! You're dead!”

Camus showed more hostility than when fighting demons. However, their confrontation was interrupted by another figure.

[Hohohoho—Ouroboros? We share a name, is it plagiarism?]

A thick whip struck Phlorosya’ body—Professor Sadi who had stormed Nouvellebag to rescue her grandfather, Marquis Sade.

She had activated Belial’s Eye, appearing before Phlorosya in her demonized state.

…Thwack!

The whip slashed around, decimating the Poison Humans. Aiyen also shot arrows, creating holes in Phlorosya' body.

“I nearly had you before. This time, you won't escape.”

Aiyen had once infiltrated Reviadon’s stronghold alone, attempting to assassinate Hopps but failed. For a Ballak hunter, chasing the same prey twice was a disgrace. Thus, Aiyen’s rematch here was only natural.

…Boom!

With an annoyed expression, Phlorosya leapt, dodging the arrows. He forcibly removed the two arrows lodged in his head, baring fangs like a leopard and growling.

[Even with two more nuisances, fate doesn’t change.]

At that moment.

“Two?”

Another voice reached Phlorosya' ear.

[……!?]

When did he get behind him? Even without sensing a presence, the opponent was right behind Phlorosya, exploiting the gap created by Aiyen and Sadi.

…Thwack!

A large leech attached itself to Phlorosya’ back.

The demonic sword Asmodeus. A terrifying weapon that sucked the blood of its stabbed victim. It was now draining chunks of life from Phlorosya’ body.

[Argh!?]

For the first time, a blood-soaked scream escaped Phlorosya' lips.

“…….”

Vikir narrowed his eyes at the figure holding Phlorosya from behind. The body connected to the demonic sword Asmodeus, covered in black veins, exuded a fierce dark aura over his shoulder.

Black tongue.

Vikir thought he would never him encounter again.

Black Toung was glaring at Vikir with very intense eyes. Rather than hate, it felt like... curiosity.

[Translator - Clara]

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