Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 416
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky
Chapter 416: End Game (8)
In the Level Ten zone, the all-stars of Nouvellebag gathered.
The warden, Orca.
And among the five pillars, except for BDISSEM and Black Tongue who were eliminated by Vikir, there were D’Ordume, Souare, and Flubber.
Orca stood out as the most imposing figure among them.
Orca was silently watching Vikir.
Vikir, in turn, was watching Orca.
“.......”
“.......”
Just as the two battle-hardened veterans were about to start their mental showdown,
“Who does this old man think he’s ignoring?!”
A piercing shout echoed through the air.
It was Professor Sadi. She was glaring at Orca with bloodshot eyes.
...Boom!
A whip that had been pinned under Orca’s boot shattered the ground and sprang free.
It bared its fangs once more, wrapping around Orca’s body.
But Orca remained completely unfazed.
He merely clicked his tongue.
“That Winston. Maybe it;s because he was too young, but he was too soft. I told him not to hold back and just crush you to death. What good comes from sparing the seed of disaster, even if it’s just a baby? In the end, trouble always follows.”
The old soldier reminisced about the past. The distant past.
And even just his murmuring had the power to greatly provoke someone.
For Sadi, that was exactly the case.
“Die! I’ll kill you! Aaaaaaah!”
Her grudge, growing stronger and hotter over time, poured all her demonic aura into the whip and unleashed it in a powerful explosion.
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
The air shattered and the ground ripped apart like paper.
Orca furrowed his brows deeply and tugged at the chain on his waist.
Clank—
As the chain moved, so did the handle of the club at its end.
Orca grabbed the handle of the club and swung it casually.
Whoosh—
The mere wave of pressure in the air disrupted Sadi’s whip.
Aiyen, witnessing this, gaped in astonishment.
“Is it even possible to exert that kind of power at his age? Normally, he’d be bedridden, needing constant care.”
“Wasn’t Chief Aquilla the same, isn’t she?”
“My mother wasn’t that old.”
Aiyen grinned at Vikir’s comment.
Simultaneously, she picked up her bow and prepared to shoot.
Thanks to the stats she gained in the Abyss, her increased strength allowed her to draw the bowstring even tighter.
Boom—
The sound of the arrow firing was unbelievably loud as it flew towards Orca.
Specifically, aiming near his temple.
...Clang!
Orca blocked Aiyen’s arrow with his club.
“An archer? How troublesome.”
When Orca responded indifferently, Aiyen felt disappointed.
“If only I had a better bow...”
But before Aiyen could finish her grumbling, Orca moved.
“Clear the surroundings. I need to investigate that suspicious sphere.”
D’Ordume and Souare nodded solemnly at Orca’s command.
(Even Flubber, who stood beside them, adopted a slightly solemn expression.)
Soon, Orca approached the direction where Poseidon was located, gripping his club tightly.
Blocking his path was Vikir.
“You can’t do that.”
A dark red aura surged from the demonic sword, Beelzebub.
Orca’s brow furrowed.
“You’re from the Baskerville family. But how did you gain such power at your age?”
“Let’s not talk about age.”
Both of them possessed power unfitting for their ages, whether young or old.
The two battle-hardened veterans clashed fiercely in the heart of the battlefield.
...Crash!
The air shattered into pieces.
His brow furrowed slightly, but Orca didn’t budge an inch, blocking Vikir’s Black Sun with sheer determination.
“...Is this your maximum output?”
“...”
“Then it’s my turn now.”
Orca wiped his face, smeared with sweat and blood, with his hand.
And then.
...Creak!
The sound of muscles and bones twisting began to emanate from his entire body.
For a moment, a piece of common knowledge from Vikir’s past brushed through his mind.
‘...Orca wasn’t just an ordinary human either.’
That’s right. Just like the five wardens guarding Nouvellebag weren’t human, neither was Orca.
As Vikir adjusted his stance, preparing to enter the imminent second round of battle.
Slash—
Somewhere, the sound of tough leather tearing was heard.
A whip tore through the thick fur coat draped over Orca’s shoulders, grazing past him.
Sadi. Despite being battered and bruised from the aftermath of her majin state and the battle, she was holding onto Orca from behind.
Further back, D’Ordume and Souare were sprawled, drenched in blood.
Flubber seemed to have been completely shattered.
“...Thank you.”
Sadi wasn’t looking at Orca, but at Vikir.
Her sudden gratitude made Vikir chuckle.
What was she grateful for?
Sadi continued speaking.
“For keeping your promise.”
In that moment, Vikir remembered the promise he made to her at the Colosseo Academy.
When Vikir asked Sadi to hand over “Orwell,” the key to Nouvellebag’s main gate.
“Hand it over.”
“Yes~ I’ll gladly do that~ I do need the ‘main gate key,’ but... well, there are other ways.”
“...”
“In return, could you promise me one more thing?”
That was when Sadi made this request.
“If you ever get the chance to escape, please make sure to bring my grandfather with you.”
Sadi’s grandfather. The person who had the greatest influence on her beliefs.
“...!”
Vikir widened his eyes and looked around.
The clash between Vikir and Orca had already devastated the terrain.
Mountains and hills had collapsed, leaving countless crevices gaping wide on the plains.
Even in the isolated areas where beings were kept separate due to Level Nine’s inability to contain the aftermath, the impact was felt.
Given the circumstances, it was inevitable.
Crack—crackle!
In the distance, isolation cells began to crumble.
“Oh no...”
The color drained from Souare’s face, who managed the isolation cells.
D’Ordume couldn’t find words to express his despair either.
Even Orca, the mightiest of them all furrowed his brows.
His face contorted far more than when he faced Vikir’s 8th style.
And then.
Amidst the rubble of the collapsed isolation cells, a voice began to emerge.
“Pffssss...”
A lifeless laughter reminiscent of air escaping from a balloon.
It was a sound Vikir had heard when he was once trapped in an isolation cell.
Eventually, amidst the fallen rubble, a tall elderly figure rose.
So thin and twisted he seemed undead.
Yet, there was an undeniable sense of vitality in his movements.
He didn’t look like someone who just emerged from an isolation cell.
“...Angagoumang?”
Vikir inquired, to which the old man nodded, responding with a chuckle.
“Just when I was getting tired of ‘retirement,’ you come along little man.”
The old man turned to look at the fallen Sadi, offering a warm smile.
It was only then that Vikir could confirm his identity once again.
“Angagoumang Cedric Sad de Sade,” known as “Marquis Sade.”
It was the moment when the legendary warmonger, who had turned the Empire upside down during the “47 people incident,” was unleashed.
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]