Revenge of the Iron-blooded Sword Hound

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 460: Infiltration Operation at the Water Supply Area (7)

*Splurt!*

A gigantic Poison Human opened its mouth wide.

But the widely opened mouth was pushed back suddenly, soon detaching from its jaw and falling to the ground.

*Splat!*

Vikir, who had just sliced off the Poison Human’s obstructing head, landed lightly on the ground.

However, there were still a few Poison Humans left on the slope leading up the mountain peak in front of him.

*Growl-*

*Screech- Screech-*

*Hiss- Hiss!*

Poison Human combat soldiers were larger and more powerful than regular Poison Humans.

The Poison Humans here were even larger and more grotesque than typical combat soldiers.

Having three or four heads was relatively normal among them.

They had long, twisted bodies adorned with bizarre appendages that could not be considered once-human parts.

Mutants.

These were rare individuals who emerged through a process of repeatedly facing life-or-death situations, accumulating experiences, and absorbing improved poisons.

The poison and stench emanating from their bodies were causing the surrounding grass to turn black.

Then, among the Poison Humans blocking the mountain peak, an especially large and hideous figure began to appear.

*Gyaagh… Gyagak… Ggrrrk!*

Vikir recognized that Poison Human.

‘Hmm. It’s the one that came out of the barracks earlier.’

It was the same creature he had seen crawling out of the poison charging station from afar.

It was an exceptionally large and powerful mutant, puzzlingly placed in the rear.

*Grrk- Ah… Verge… Maagnae… hwak… tuah… spit…!*

Seeing the mutant babble incomprehensible words with its grotesquely transformed mouth, Vikir quickly assessed the situation.

‘If this thing participates in tomorrow’s battle, things will get troublesome. I should eliminate it now.’

Just as Night Hound was about to bare its fangs at the giant Poison Human mutant before him…

“Vikir!”

Tudor’s voice came from behind.

When Vikir turned, he saw Tudor with a determined expression.

“Go ahead. We’ll handle this.”

“…”

“Clearing the water path is more important. Don’t worry about the Poison Human mutants; we’ll manage them somehow…”

“Understood.”

Before Tudor even finished speaking, Vikir was gone.

He had judged it more efficient that way.

Tudor, watching Vikir shoot forward without looking back, smirked.

“That guy. He could have at least pretended to refuse.”

“It’s proof that Vikir trusts us this much now.”

“I know. Honestly, it felt good.”

With a smile, Tudor adjusted his grip on his spear, standing back-to-back with Sancho, who was wielding an axe.

Soon, the night walkers began to block the Poison Humans after letting Vikir go ahead.

“Alright, you trash! Let me show you something hot!”

Camus waved her hands, drawing a large magic circle in the air.

Her specialty, Octa Casting, allowed her to simultaneously handle eight elemental spells.

A rain of eight different elements, including fire and steel, began to fall.

*Popopopopopopopop!*

Steel spikes that sprang from the ground pierced through the Poison Humans’ bodies, melting with heat and burning them from the inside.

“Ugh… if it’s like this, my gold will melt too. Well, no matter.”

Sinclaire drew mana and touched the ground.

She pulled an entire vein of gold from beneath the earth’s crust.

*Crackle-*

A massive golden golem tore through the ground’s surface, climbing up and swinging its heavy fists.

As the molten gold, heated by Camus’s flame magic, splashed everywhere, the Poison Humans burned to death.

“Everyone, breathe as little as possible! Stay close to me!”

Dolores cast a wide-range holy shield, blocking the red death spirits.

*Hissss-*

The blood and pus spewed by the Poison Humans vaporized into harmless steam upon contact with Dolores’s holy light.

Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca were also emitting their auras, blocking the Poison Humans’ advance.

“Vikir! Do you see anything up there?”

Tudor shouted, piercing the center of a Poison Human’s large palm with his spear.

*See- see- see- see-*

Tudor’s strained voice echoed through the dense trees and cliffs.

Vikir, who had just reached the mountain peak, clearly heard Tudor’s voice.

However,

“…”

Vikir couldn’t respond to Tudor’s desperate shout.

There was no water.

No matter how hard he looked into the crater below, there was no sign of water.

“…”

Vikir took a few deep breaths and examined the crater’s landscape again.

Dry clumps of soil rolled down the slope covered in dense undergrowth.

Following the trail of his gaze, there was nothing but barren wasteland.

The crater was filled with dry dirt and solid rocks, with no trace of water.

Only a tumbleweed rolled along the parched ground.

The information from Minipin was wrong.

Vikir gritted his teeth.

This was information he hadn’t known before his regression, and it had been a fatal error to rely on uncertainty.

*Boom!*

Vikir slashed, collapsing part of the peak.

Still, no water appeared.

‘…This is dangerous.’

In this situation, he needed to quickly change course and return to the stronghold.

However, the rear was already surrounded by Poison Humans.

Vikir descended the cliff rapidly to rejoin the frontline.

Given the lingering chaos at the Poison Human charging station and the scattered placement of Poison Humans, he could extinguish the immediate threat.

‘After clearing out the Poison Humans here, I’ll use the commotion to head back to the stronghold. Moving in the opposite direction should make the perimeter less guarded… all I can do is hope the others hold out as long as possible.’

Formulating plans, Vikir descended the cliff.

Suddenly,

“…!”

An unexpected event shattered Vikir’s plans and judgments.

“Hahaha… so all the nuisances have gathered here.”

A man with a sharp hooked nose, tightly pressed lips, and deep, shadowy eyes under black hair appeared among the Poison Humans.

None of the night walkers failed to recognize his face.

A genius who knew the combination of every poison and antidote.

A person even Hugo Baskerville was reluctant to face.

Duke Hopps de Reviadon.

He was the head of the poisonous Reviadon clan and a key figure in the ongoing civil war within the empire.

Confronted by Hopps, who had appeared much earlier than expected, Vikir had to grit his teeth.

Meanwhile…

“Hmm. I can guess why you’ve come here.”

Hopps, scanning the faces of the Night Walkers, smirked ominously and extended a long spear.

The spear, resembling two intertwined snakes on a gnarled wooden shaft, gleamed wickedly.

“Go, ‘Ouroboros.'”

At Hopps’s command,

*Hissss-*

the spear began to wriggle as if alive.

With each swing, red death spirits swirled around Hopps, spiraling wildly.

The giant, grotesque Poison Human mutants followed the red mist, standing behind Hopps and emanating terrifying killing intent.

Seeing Hopps confronting his comrades beyond the mountainside, Vikir quickened his pace.

‘…That man is dangerous.’

He was known as the “Second Corpse.”

A demon lord who had never lost in numerous battles during the Era of Destruction.

The most malevolent and wicked demon among the Ten Corpses.

If Vikir was a seasoned demon hunter, this man was a seasoned human hunter.

“Do not engage him! There’s no chance of winning against…!?”

But Vikir’s shout to his comrades was abruptly cut off.

*Boom!*

An unexpected explosion struck Hopps.

Hopps, who had just appeared, was hit in the head and sent flying, spewing blood.

“…?”

In the midst of Vikir’s astonishment, more fiery pillars crashed down upon the pit where Hopps had landed.

*Crackle! Boom! Crackle! Boom! …Rumble!*

Huge, heated steel spikes embedded in the firestorm rained down like molten pens.

“Hohohoho— Until Vikir arrives, I’ll just have to hunt this demon. How convenient, to take down on of the corpse right away.”

Camus, who had been pacing herself, finally unleashed her full power.

*Crackle, crackle, crackle…*

A massive, black, ghost tree began to grow from the fiercely burning flames created by Camus.

Ghostwood.

[TL/N: Vikir found 2 stalks of ghost wood, one was given to Pomeranian and other to Camus.]

It had fully blossomed into a mature tree, now bearing many fruits.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

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