Revenge of the Iron-blooded Sword Hound

Chapter 83

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 83: Lovesickness (Part 1)

Aiyen had a dream.

Her first dream memory was of being pierced by sharp claws in a blazing fire.

Cerberus, the three-headed guardian dog of hell.

This dangerous beast emerged from deep oil pits, exhaling fiery breath and gnashing its teeth at unwelcome intruders into its domain.

The warriors of Ballak, who could only advance as Madam Eight-Legs expanded her domain, were inevitably destined to clash with Cerberus and the hunting grounds. Eventually, they succeeded in driving Cerberus, the original owner of the territory, far away.

And in this process, Aiyen suffered a fatal wound and was left behind by the group.

She thought she was going to die like that… But still, her life was surprisingly long.

Imperial slave traders, exploring the jungle, found the dying Aiyen and, after minimal treatment, sold her as a slave.

When she was locked in the cold iron bars by the heartless human brutes, Aiyen felt death or something even more terrible looming over her.

Now it was clear that she would never come out of there, slowly withering away in agony.

The freedom she had enjoyed, soaring through the vast waters, was gone, and the honor of the proud warrior would also plummet.

What would she become now?

A wretched creature, owned by the greedy imperial fat cats, living a miserable life? Or a graduator slave destined to fight monsters until she died, reduced to a plaything for the empire’s amusement? Or would she end up on the dining table of the flesh-eating gourmets as a mere piece of meat?

Aiyen’s body and mind weakened with each passing day due to festering wounds and rising body temperature, unable to take a sip of water for days.

When the proud warrior of Ballak fell to the ground with her wings broken, a miracle happened.

A boy appeared with a white light.

He casually dispelled the darkness that had shrouded Aiyen’s destiny and bestowed a ray of brilliant light upon her.

Aiyen had never seen such a beautiful face in her entire life, exceptional combat prowess, and above all, a brave and confident demeanor that captivated her attention.

Had there ever been a warrior with such a strong power among her peers?

An outstanding man, among the cunning and corrupt imperialists who had always been thought of as sly and sordid, stood out.

As Aiyen was being taken away, dragged by the human brutes who had treated her like a beast, she watched closely as they all died or had their limbs brutally severed.

On that night when a downpour of blood rained down, the boy rescued Aiyen from her cage and sent her back to her homeland, the home she had so often dreamed of.

And since that moment, Aiyen had never once forgotten the boy’s face.

Driven by a single-minded determination, she crossed the borders of the empire tirelessly in search of Vikir.

Invading the empire was a life-threatening endeavor.

She formed groups, and sometimes crossed the border alone, all in search of the boy.

Living in a small enclave within the jungle, she had no idea that there were so many imperialists.

But because the boy was extraordinary, she believed that if she kept searching among the people, she would eventually meet him.

One by one, Ballak’s other companions achieved their goals.

Ballak’s men kidnapped some women from the empire and made them their wives. Some women from Ballak also kidnapped certain men from the empire and took them as their husbands. Even though their comrades had succeeded in kidnapping one after another, Aiyen continued to hunt for Vikir.

She was waiting. For destiny to come like a miracle. Inevitability.

While her fellow women were all paired up with suitable men, Aiyen persevered alone.

Other men didn’t catch her eye at all.

And then, one day, Aiyen met him.

The boy. The boy from that night.

But another woman was in the boy’s arms.

Jealousy. Aiyen felt the black flames that had erupted in the oil world burning in her heart.

But Aiyen’s cool temperament allowed her to control the inner fire quickly.

She decided not to dwell on the boy’s past relationships with women.

What mattered was the future they would build together, rather than the past that couldn’t be changed.

The problem was that the boy didn’t seem to fit into Aiyen’s plans at all.

The boy she met after a long time had become even stronger.

He fought brilliantly with several of Ballak’s warriors and once again proved his extraordinary abilities.

The more Aiyen saw him like this, the more she wanted the boy. She wanted to possess him. He belonged to her.

And that desire grew stronger when she saw the boy confront Madam Eight-Legs without backing down.

In Ballak, brave warriors were respected, and the boy was more than qualified.

So Aiyen changed her course, even though it meant facing the formidable Madam.

How could she even think of confronting that monstrous creature?

Her legs trembled, and cold sweat poured down, but Aiyen overcame her fear.

In a moment of crisis, she successfully threw a noose and rescued the boy from Madam’s Eight Claws.

Afterward, Aiyen brought the boy, whose body had been badly damaged from the fight with Madam to her tribe.

There was some resistance.

The stubborn old fogies among them didn’t particularly like outsiders from the empire.

Moreover, there were rumors that the boy might have connections with the archenemy, Baskerville.

The majority opinion was to execute the boy.

But Aiyen firmly opposed it.

She argued that the boy had saved her life and would be of help to the tribe if they spared him.

Her foresight turned out to be spot on.

As the boy’s body recovered, he became more and more helpful to the tribe.

He went hunting, dealt with the traders who had treated the natives as fools, and even cured diseases.

In addition, the days spent together in the village began to flow like a galactic river.

Playing tricks with urine, eating bear genitals, going hunting together, taking hot baths—it all felt like a dream.

Aiyen had wanted the boy sincerely for a long time.

It was an emotion that transcended the simple concept of possession.

…Right at that moment.

“Hey, wake up.”

Someone shook Aiyen awake.

She raised her heavy eyelids and looked straight ahead with a blurred vision.

A ceiling made of woven straw came into view.

Aiyen was lying on a bed, drenched in sweat, her body heavy.

A faint blush, rising body temperature, loss of appetite, excessive sweating, and signs of dehydration.

Aiyen turned her head with great effort to look at the presence next to her.

!

Aquilla, the chieftain of Ballak, looked down at Aiyen with a worried expression. She wiped Aiyen’s face with a wet cloth and spoke, “You’ve been searching for Vikir even in your dreams.”

“…It’s too painful, Mother. Do I have Red Death?” Aiyen gasped for breath as she spoke.

Aquilla scrutinized her daughter’s body with narrowed eyes. Aiyen lay there, without a single piece of clothing on her body. Her body temperature was rising, and she was sweating heavily. Her entire body had turned red, yet there were no visible spots.

Aquila pondered, “Her symptoms are slightly different from the other children with the Red Death… It seems similar yet different.”

While Aiyen was in agony, she clenched her chest and spoke, “The pain is getting worse. My chest hurts, and my body feels hot. It’s as if my heart is drying up.”

“Endure a little longer. Vikir will be here soon. Isn’t he the man you sincerely believe?” Aquila asked.

“…Even without that scoundrel, I’ll be fine. He won’t come back.”

But despite her words, Aiyen’s expression showed intense suffering. She spoke to Aquila as if pleading, “Mother, this is the first time I’ve been in so much pain. I almost resent being born. It shouldn’t be like this. Why did you bring me into this world?”

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Moved by Aiyen’s tearful words, Aquila embraced her tightly. It was not the dignity of a chieftain but the affection of a mother that enveloped Aiyen warmly.

“Sweetheart,” Aquila spoke tenderly to Aiyen, “Long ago, your father and I planted a tiny and lovely seed in the soil.”

Since it was the first time Aquila had mentioned her father’s story, even in her fading consciousness, Aiyen listened attentively.

Aquila continued, “Your father planted the seed in the soil, and I watered it every day. Not long after, the seed sprouted, and after a few months, it became a healthy and beautiful flower.”

Aquila gently cupped her daughter’s face with her hands as she spoke.

Aiyen, with teary eyes, looked at Aquilla in return. Between the two of them, emotions too deep and overwhelming to put into words blossomed.

Eventually, Aquilla concluded her story, “And then, we plucked that flower, crushed it, squeezed its juice, and mixed it with tobacco. We smoked it, and without any contraception, and made love in a dazed and pleasurable state. That’s how you were conceived that day.”

[TL/N: LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO]

“…”

“Ah, your father was executed by your grandfather the very next day for playing such a wicked prank.”

Upon learning the secret of her birth, Aiyen wore a slightly bewildered expression.

“…I’m in even more pain now, Mother.”

“Endure a little longer. If Vikir comes back with a cure…”

“Forget it! Don’t torment me with hope! He won’t return! Has any slave ever come back once their leash was released…!?”

At that moment, the conversation between Aquila and Aiyen was abruptly interrupted.

Loud cries and shouts could be heard from outside the door.

“He’s here!”

“Vikir! Vikir has returned!”

“He brought the cure! He really did!”

Aquilla, with a bright expression, turned her head towards the commotion.

“See, my daughter? Didn’t I tell you…?”

But Aquila couldn’t finish her sentence.

Thud!

In an instant, Aiyen sprang up from her bed, broke through the wall, and rushed down the tree trunk like lightning.

Aquila, looking at her daughter, could only mutter in disbelief, “Wasn’t she suffering from the Red Death?”

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]