Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 122: The Tenth Corpse

<'Tenth Corpse' Andromalius>

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found in: within the depths of the Gate of Destruction, 'The Serpent's Womb'

-Nicknamed 'tenth Corpse'.

one of the Ten Calamities, herbal enemies of mankind, inscrutable and unkillable.

"They shall swarm like flies."

– the ten Commandments 10: top –

'The top ten corpses'.

Refers to the 10 Demon Kings who opened the gates to the Demon Realm and ushered in the Age of Destruction, or the ten corpses that have become their bodies.

earlier than his regression, Vikir had a vague concept of their existence, but he hadn't realized they have been virtually Set.

'It's an awesome element we met highly soon.'

Vikir idea as he stepped lower back.

greater harmless kids might had been sacrificed if he were allowed to live longer inside the Baskervilles.

a person else would had been falsely accused, too.

Like himself before the regression.

Vikir calmed his thoughts and eyed the enemy earlier than him.

sure enough, Andromalius, the tenth Corpse, rose like a mist at the back of Set's frame, and then started to take shape.

purple eyes, black flesh, horns curved like a ram's.

From his severed left arm sprouted a long, massive snake, writhing and slithering.

The powerful demon that had taken over Set's frame growled into his mouth.

[I never thought I'd show my true form to a human].

"You ought to have hidden higher."

Andromalius's expression went clean for a second as he heard Vikir's brief rebuke.

Why is it that the humans in front of him are in no way surprised to peer him for who he's?

Of route, Vikir had no purpose of answering Andromalius' question.

He really compares his pre-regression understanding with the records from his current lifestyles to make the pleasant feasible plan.

'... I puzzled wherein the culprits who could result in the Age of Destruction within the coming decades had been hiding.'

I by no means concept it would be this near.

Vikir cut off any and all feelings he had for Set.

He changed into not the kindly half-brother he remembered.

no longer even a monster, no longer even a fiend, but a demon, a real blooded evil.

A demon of the very best order, a demon whose family name is by some means tied to the Abyssal Lineage.

"in spite of this. There's no enterprise in swords."

Vikir turned into unfazed.

He drew out as long as he may want to, and the tip of his Beelzebub become imbued with an air of mystery of strength.

Pooh-pooh-pooh-pooh!

within the quick time it took for Andromalius to descend and reshape Set's frame, Vikir laid down over thirty stabs.

A trajectory so clean in its motive, aimed toward killing, not dueling or contesting.

The malice displayed by using Beelzebub the Magic Sword turned into unmistakable, following an exceedingly green course, selecting best Andromalius' critical organs to stab.

[Ugh! Why, why is it painful, why does the pain of a mere body reach to the soul!]

Andromalius then turned his attention to the awl-like sword that Vikir become wielding.

Sensing the magic emanating from Beelzebub, Andromalius cries out in horror.

[What, no! Beelzebub, the Sword of Gluttony? The remains of the ancient Demonic Constellation, Lord of the Flies!]

lengthy ago, whilst Andromalius become no longer but born.

A relic of one of the seven notable and long-dead kings who as soon as dominated the demon world.

simplest then did Andromalius recognize the source of Vikir's self belief.

A regular sword can damage the frame of the corpse possessed through Andromalius, however it cannot damage the non secular frame behind it.

unless it changed into an charisma sword, which changed into a concentration of natural mana.

but, it's a distinct tale with demonic or holy swords.

they're the best non-fashionable items that may bodily intervene with a non secular frame.

And a magic sword or holy sword with an charisma?

It turns into a powerful weapon that even a Demon of the highest order can't ignore.

furthermore, Vikir is a seasoned warrior who has amassed karma from killing limitless demons in his beyond lives.

Andromalius, who hasn't yet received his complete electricity, is burdened as to in which this monster came from.

"Die."

Vikir desired to end the warfare as quickly as possible at the same time as Andromalius was nevertheless inside the dark.

earlier than Andromalius had taken his body, Set had been an intermediate Graduator, and now that Andromalius become in whole control of Set's frame, he should without difficulty be a Sword master or higher.

but Vikir changed into assured, too.

His body become strengthened via the River Styx, his war enjoy won over two lifetimes, and the electricity of Baskerville circle of relatives swordsmanship and the magic sword Beelzebub.

Even a Swordmaster may be killed by way of wonder or assassination.

Vikir sank his tooth into Andromalius' flesh with conviction.

however.

[...Yes, that was a bit of a surprise, I'll admit, but that's it].

Andromalius is essentially an endgame boss, an Archdemon so terrifying that he plotted the destruction of the human world with best ten others.

Andromalius, who had relatively adapted to Vikir's onslaught considering the fact that breaking thru the barrier, right away took movement.

Shiriririk!

The snake that had changed Andromalius' left arm swooped down, open-mouthed.

Vikir swung the hilt of his Blood Wind to strike the snake down, however the snake's enamel left a long path of blood on his forearm.

Then a darkish smile seemed on Andromalius' possessed Set's face.

[That's it, you're done].

With that, Andromalius stretched out his proper hand.

Vikir's forearm turned white for a moment, after which blood began to gush from the wound.

...gurgle! ...gurgle! ...gurgle! ...gurgle! ...gurgle!

Andromalius drained the blood from Vikir's body and absorbed it into his personal.

Waaaah!

Vikir unexpectedly heard the unsightly flapping of wings.

Flies.

The unpleasant insect, plump and fats, changed into sucking blood from Vikir's wound.

"...is a bloodsucker."

Vikir overwhelmed the fly, killing it, and quickly pressed his arm towards the wound to forestall it from bleeding, however it become no need.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Flies were anywhere.

The flies that have been frantically licking the children's bones now clung to Vikir.

...buzz! ...buzz! ...buzz! ...buzz! ...buzz! ...buzz!

Andromalius sucked the blood from Vikir's body, no matter how a long way away they were.

The streams of blood gushing out of Vikir's frame have been being coiled like snakes with the aid of the flies and being absorbed by means of Andromalius' proper hand.

[Hmph- my strength is returning].

Set's tattered body began to get better.

endless bloodsucking using a swarm of flies.

This strength that Andromalius possessed was semi-immortal.

so long as there are wounded and exhausted things round him, his life pressure is infinite.

The artwork of digging into the wounds of others and draining the life force from them is commonplace among demons.

And one of the excellent at it is this Andromalius proper in the front of you.

'Set, too, has long on the grounds that end up his sacrifice.'

The want to be regularly occurring via his father, the inferiority complicated of his brother.

With those emotional wounds, Set could have been clean prey for Andromalius.

ultimately, Set turned into left empty-surpassed, with the whole lot sucked out of him, and this is the result.

Vikir remembered Set's usual monologue earlier than his regression.

'I need to be well-known with the aid of my father, I want him to look returned and spot that I'm right here.'

'You're so top notch, I desired to be such as you, I wanted to walk beside you, side by way of facet with you.'

We don't know if it become a faint remnant of Set's unconscious, or if Andromalius memorized and mimicked Set's last phrases.

but not less than, it's clean that Set had the ones feelings whilst he become alive, and it's similarly clear that Andromalius used them to take over Set's mind.

"...."

That made Vikir feel extraordinarily uncomfortable.

even though he didn't understand Set, he empathized with him on a few degree.

Quadruple!

Vikir swatted away the snakes and flies that were biting at his chest.

thanks to the protection of the River Styx, he changed into now not mortally wounded, however numerous chunks of flesh fell off his breastplate.

Andromalius checked out it and mocked.

[Yeah, that's how you die, with all those wounds. Now, let's suck blood again... ... ?]

however the sneer didn't last lengthy.

Ping-.

become it an illusion? For a moment, my vision burns black.

And for the briefest of moments, my head pings as I recognize it's no longer an phantasm.

Stagger.

the instant I regained my senses and got here to my senses, this time, the power in my legs changed into released.

[Cough!?]

Andromalius felt a foreign sensation that took his breath away.

It wasn't just his nostril and throat, it changed into his entire frame, and it was happening concurrently.

He exams himself to look what's going on and realizes that his entire limbs are numb and shaking.

The blood vessels were clogged with sticky hundreds, blocking blood glide.

attempting to find something, I appeared inner my body, and soon realized that i was surrounded via black, clotted blood that turned into clinging tightly to my veins.

A combination of stroke and other conditions assaulted Andromalius' soul immediately.

as the blood stopped flowing, so did the mana.

For a moment, Andromalius misplaced control of Set's frame.

[What the fuck! What the fuck!]

Andromalius raised his head, watching the frame scatter as it misplaced its host and become mana with nowhere to move.

Whack- whack- whack- whack-

useless flies fell from the sky.

And there stood Vikir, regenerating the scars on his arms and chest with terrifying velocity.

...dip! ...dip!

Vikir raised his forearm with a nonchalant expression.

The pink blood from the wound in his forearm drips to the floor and will become a dark dot like tar.

Chiiiit-boiling...

Vikir's blood made an unsightly sound because it touched the bones of the ground, and commenced to boil black.

Andromalius seemed dazed.

finally, he understood. Why his body had modified like this.

[Yes, you... your blood state changed to...!?]

generally, an regular drop of blood.

but the second its proprietor harbors malice, it becomes a lethal poisonous liquid.

A venomous poison which can make even the most powerful in the international cower.

Madame eight-Legged, the nightmare of the intensity, her ghostly toxicity has wrapped itself around Andromalius' entire body!

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