Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 425

Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 425

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 425: The Night Walkers (1)

Tochka.

A fortress located on the high plateau of the Rokpos Mountains in the northern continent.

The high and solidly built walls, deep moat, and surrounding layers of sheer cliffs made this fortress a natural stronghold.

However.

This fortress now lay abandoned and ownerless.

The reason being, this impregnable fortress Tochka was also known by another name: “The Fortress of Weeping Execution.”

This name meant “crying while beheading,” It originated from an old story during the Warring States era. A young and capable general held a siege here but was eventually defeated by enemy forces.

This once-promising general believed solely in his skills and tactics, defending Tochka, but the outcome was a devastating defeat.

Despite Tochka’s reputation for impenetrable defenses, it had one critical flaw: its location on a rocky highland in the northern mountainous region meant there was no water source nearby.

The general, suffering from thirst and unable to find water, opened the gates and fled, leading to the downfall of his country.

As a result, the king had no choice but to execute the general he had cherished, giving the fortress its grim nickname “The Fortress of Weeping Execution,” as the king wept while wielding the sword.

In this harsh environment, almost devoid of water, and haunted by a tragic legend, the grand and solid fortress gradually fell into obscurity over time.

However.

Some used this abandoned fortress as their base of operations.

The Night Walkers.

The once desolate highland fortress Tochka was now bustling with activity and filled with people.

Construction and repair work was happening everywhere.

Walls and watchtowers were being raised high, and holes in the walls were being patched.

Numerous goats pulled carts loaded with food and water.

Refugees from all over the continent, displaced by famine, drought, wildfires, and monster attacks, gathered under makeshift tents.

These refugees had followed the Night Walkers to this “Ark.”

The sick received treatment, and the hungry were given food.

Though not abundant, it was enough to ensure that their children no longer had to clutch their empty stomachs in hunger.

The refugees settled here looked weary and worn, but there was a glimmer of hope in their eyes.

They had left behind those who did not believe, enduring ridicule, scorn, and contempt, to embark on this long journey in pursuit of a fragile hope, and the outcome was positive.

At least here, they could receive blessings from priests and be provided with food and water.

Compared to their old homes, where they had to worry daily about food shortages, bandits, or monster attacks, this place was a paradise.

Meanwhile.

In the tents where the injured and sick lay, dozens of priests were busily moving about.

One priestess was seen treating a refugee who had been severely injured by a falling rock while helping to repair the fortress walls.

She took a deep breath and murmured to herself.

“Calm down, Lolita. This is just a simple healing sacrament. There’s nothing to be afraid of. So don’t be nervous.”

“Sister, my name is not Lolita... I’m Andrew...”

“I know. Lolita is my name.”

“...?”

An inexperienced young nun, with trembling hands, prayed for divine blessing.

Swoosh—

A gentle hand reached out from behind to hold hers.

Before helping him escape from Nouvellebag, this was the priority. Making a rash move might hinder Vikir instead, so they must first complete the tasks assigned to them.

At that moment.

“Hey, Knight of the Night!”

Two more men appeared from beyond the carts filled with water supplies.

It was Sancho and Figgy.

“It’s been a while, guys!”

Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy embraced each other, celebrating their reunion after several months.

The Night Walkers traveled across the continent, spreading the myth of the “Ark” to refugees and bringing them to Tochka.

‘Only here will the fire and water avoid; only here will true salvation be achieved.’

All of this was according to the message left by the “Hound of the Night.” aka Night Hound.

Sancho, standing next to Tudor, looked around the now bustling Tochka fortress and said, “This place has become quite lively. It used to be so eerie, like a ghost town when we first made it our base.”

“Yeah, it was a harsh and barren place, but it’s a relief that everyone followed us so well.”

Figgy nodded in agreement.

However, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy, who had led the refugees here, were still uncertain about the fundamental question.

“But why did Vikir tell us to gather people here?”

This was a mystery even Dolores, the leader of the Night Walkers, hadn’t yet solved.

But given the urgent circumstances, they couldn’t afford to ask Vikir for many explanations.

Also, Vikir was known never to speak in vain.

“There must be a reason. We’ve never regretted following Vikir’s advice.”

“Yeah. There’s a reason why he told us to gather as many people as possible in this desolate and remote fortress.”

“Exactly. So let’s keep pushing forward! Until we find a way to rescue Vikir, this is all we can do!”

Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy once again steeled their resolve with determined expressions.

Dolores watched her comrades with a gaze full of trust.

At that moment.

“Hey, guys. I need you to gather. We have something to discuss.”

The curtain of the tent in the distance parted, and a person stepped out.

“......!”

“......!”

“......!”

“......!”

Dolores, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy all turned their heads simultaneously.

She was the “Financier of the Night,” the sponsor funding the Night Walkers.

Known to a select few as the “wealthy friend.”

A tycoon who had transformed Tochka, once a mere abandoned fortress on the frontier, into an impregnable stronghold, simultaneously stockpiling enough food and water to sustain countless refugees.

A financial prodigy whose mobilized funds rivaled that of the bourgeois clan, a rising star in the financial world.

And an advisor to the investment club “Oracle” at Colosseo Academy.

‘Cindiwendy.’

Or, as she was now known, ‘Countess Cindewendy Baskerville,’ stood looking down at them.

“......This is an emergency.”

She wore a rare, serious expression.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]