Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 363

Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 363

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 363: Castle of the deep sea (1)

It was the coldest, weirdest, most rugged, filthy, and cruel place in this world.

The gods have separated it from the sunlit world and forever isolated it.

No one can imagine the hell that exists there.

No words or illustrations in this world can fully express the terror of Nouvellebag, and the unique and eerie atmosphere of that place can only be felt by breathing its air.

People of the world, please do not commit sins. If you have already, find a way to repent as soon as possible.

In the depths of the hell, Nouvellebag, the grand prison, lies, its depths unfathomable, waiting to exact your sins!

—

Deep beneath the abyssal depths of the deep sea.

A towering fortress rose above the swaying black seaweed forest.

Atop the peak, an eerie yellowish-green glow emanated like the bioluminescence of deep-sea creatures.

It was the essence of Nouvellebag, an ancient fortress constructed of massive rectangular bricks.

...Clang! Thud!

Vikir’s ‘coffin’ descended onto the top of the fortress, the circular iron gate towering above.

A castle of the Ultra Deep Sea, Its interior was dug deep into the huge mountain peak.

Vikir surveyed the landscape outside through the eyes of Decarabia.

“...This is the Gate of Morality.”

The massive circular gate had a diameter of dozens of meters.

Its material seemed to be a blend of adamantine and orichalcum, akin to the vaults of the bourgeois clan, with thickness and weight beyond imagination.

The left was white, the right black. The placement of these contrasting colors held only one meaning.

‘The Gate of Morality.’ The final boundary that separates good and evil.

It was the main gate of Nouvellebag, the very symbol itself.

Eventually.

Creak-creak-creak-creak-creak!

The gate began to slowly rotate 180 degrees.

Like a manhole cover, the open gate inverted slowly, sucking Vikir’s coffin along with seawater into the interior of the fortress.

Beneath the Gate of Morality, a viscous, slimy membrane of unknown identity blocked the influx of seawater.

This transparent, viscous membrane also covered all the windows in the fortress.

Thunk! ...Clang!

Along with a hefty stream of water, Vikir’s carriage landed firmly on the solid floor.

By then, Iron Maiden had molded itself to Vikir’s body size, snugly fitting like a suit of iron-clad clothing.

Eventually, Vikir felt the ominous touch of hands twisting open the carriage lid.

“...We have arrived.”

As soon as the carriage lid opened, Vikir leaned forward.

And there, the interior of Nouvellebag’s essence came into view.

The floor, walls, and ceiling were all a deep blue-green, befitting a fortress built in the depths of the ocean, cold, damp, and eerie.

Guards clad in black uniforms peered out from under their hats with sharp, piercing gazes.

“...Night hound.’ Is this the final inmate?”

Garam Nord finished his explanation, gesturing with a truncheon at his waist.

The prisoners awaiting admission giggled and chattered nervously.

“I got eight years here. It’s truly dreadful.”

“Darn it! I got 13 years. That’s like spending 130 years rotting in a cell on the surface! I’d rather serve a short and thick sentence here and get out sooner.”

“Heh heh heh... I’m a lifer. Damn, living a lifetime in this craphole?”

“These chicks think they’re tough, huh? You know even life sentences have a limit? I’ve been sentenced to three life sentences.”

The prisoners exchanged glances, displaying their strength and cruelty to each other.

Among them, one stood out, drawing attention from those nearby.

A man covered in giant crimson blotches, with demonic features.

No one there didn’t recognize him.

Sakkuth de Reviadon, known on the surface as the ‘Plague Carrier.’

Expelled even from the ruthless clan Reviadon for extreme human experimentation, once with a bounty reaching almost eleven digits for his crimes.

He grinned, revealing sharp teeth.

“Hey, kiddos. Ever heard of the ‘Red Death’ plague? I’m the one who created it.”

Recognized as a severe threat by the empire, Sakkuth received a lifetime sentence, an astonishing 666 times, and was incarcerated here in Nouvellebag.

Although currently awaiting admission in ‘Level 1,’ it’s not where he’s meant to be.

As Sakkuth spoke, the mouths of the surrounding prisoners fell silent in unison.

Seemingly relishing in the heavy silence, Sakkuth continued his sinister laughter.

“I had already finished all the clinical trials on the indigenous people of the Red and black mountains, you know. Suddenly, those zealots intervened, messing everything up. Ah... what a shame. It was a chance to witness a pandemic of historic proportions. Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!”

Sakkuth. Besides his appearance and record, there was one more peculiar aspect about him.

That was the fact that he voluntarily entered this place as a prisoner.

“Tsk tsk tsk! I came here purposely to meet ‘Him.’ So, unlike you tiny little ants dragged here against your will, I’m on a different level.”

Sakkuth disregarded not only the prisoners awaiting admission but even the guards, with his aura being so ominous that none of the guards dared to step forward.

However, perhaps due to concern over the possibility of spreading contagion, everyone kept their distance.

Meanwhile,

Garam Nord was briefly explaining the procedures for the upcoming admission ceremony.

“The admission ceremony will consist of three steps. Firstly, belongings inspection. Secondly, health check. Thirdly, bathing. That’s all.”

To the surprise of many prisoners, they reacted.

“Do we really need belongings inspection or weapons removal? We couldn’t bring weapons here in the first place.”

“They’re going to give us a health check after measuring our physical strength? It’s like medical service, isn’t it? Not some welfare facility.”

“They’ll even provide disinfection and bathing! Haha, Nouvellebag seems more comfortable than I thought.”

“Ugh, I want to wash up quickly. I feel sticky to death because of the saltiness of seawater during the journey here!”

Contrary to rumors, Nouvellebag was quite well-equipped with amenities.

The prisoners seemed to relax, thinking that the upcoming admission ceremony wouldn’t be a big deal.

...But.

“It’s starting.”

Vikir knew.

The term ‘admission ceremony’ in this place didn’t merely mean admission.

And the series of events packaged with everyday words like ‘belongings inspection,’ ‘health check,’ and ‘bathing’ was terrifying beyond imagination.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]