Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 459

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 459: Infiltration Operation at the Water Supply Area (6)

A black tent stood on a hill of dirt.

In the center of the tent, there was a huge cauldron, with two gigantic snakes coiled inside it.

The two snakes circled around, biting each other’s tails.

Each time the snakes completed a circle, bright red venom pooled in the center of the cauldron.

The venom was then heated by the firewood burning beneath the cauldron, causing it to boil and emit thick red steam.

[Grumble...]

[Screech-]

[Squeak! Gasp!]

The Poison Humans lined up and entered the tent one by one, where they were fumigated by the red steam rising from the cauldron.

Crack! Snap! Shatter!

The Poison Humans, who had been staggering as if they were about to die, transformed into vigorous beings as soon as they were exposed to the red steam.

Their energy was so overwhelming that some of them even changed into grotesque forms.

And above it all, an individual sat quietly on the highest throne, watching everything.

“......”

Dressed in a black robe that covered their entire body and carrying a large scythe on their back.

He was known by the night walkers as ‘The Reaper.’

The Reaper, a mysterious figure at the forefront of this extermination operation, silently observed the numerous Poison Humans being reborn in the red death mist.

Just then...

...Boom!

An unexpected event occurred.

One side of the tent was torn to shreds as a mysterious intruder broke in from outside.

Bang!

As soon as the intruder entered, they started decapitating the Poison Humans nearby.

Dozens of Poison Humans were left rolling on the ground with only their heads, unable to resist even once.

“......!”

The Reaper stood up abruptly.

The amount of poison, manpower, and time required to create even a single Poison Human warrior was enormous.

They couldn’t die like trash.

The Reaper swiftly descended the steps and swung the scythe down at the intruder.

...Clang!

The intruder blocked the Reaper’s scythe with a crude iron sword.

In that moment, the Reaper flinched.

He recognized the intruder immediately.

It was Vikir Van Baskerville, the Night hound, an infamous villain who had been imprisoned in Nouvellebag long ago.

Why had this person appeared here and now?

Vikir glared at the Reaper with his red eyes.

Clang- Clatter!

The iron sword clashed with the scythe, creating a shower of sparks.

The cheap iron sword cracked many times just from clashing once with the scythe.

However, Vikir continued to swing the sword.

Clang! Clang- Bang! Clang-

The relentless and seemingly reckless attacks made even the Reaper flinch.

However, this was the Reviadon Clan’s stronghold, home to countless Poison Humans.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

The gigantic Poison Humans reached out towards Vikir.

Each of them had the monstrous strength to distort even iron cauldrons.

Vikir swung his now nearly serrated sword, cutting off the limbs of the Poison Humans.

Crunch- Snap- Crack! Snap!

Chunks of flesh and bone fragments flew through the air, scattering in all directions.

The poison humans were shredded like wet leaves in the face of this inhuman combat prowess and sheer brutality, making one question if these creatures were even living beings.

...Bang!

In the end, the cauldron at the center of the barracks was destroyed by the rampage of numerous Vikirs.

The two snakes inside were startled and slithered into a corner, and the thick red mist dissipated abruptly.

Swoosh – Thud! Clang!

The Reaper, who had been cutting and slashing through the many Vikirs with his scythe, was greatly alarmed upon seeing the cauldron broken.

The poison humans gathered outside the barracks were equally stunned.

Whoosh-

The Reaper ran outside and looked around, but there was no sign of the real Vikir.

Boom! Bang! Rumble!

Flames rose from various parts of the camp, and the sound of the black Vikirs rampaging could be heard everywhere.

* * *

A few hours earlier.

Vikir had opened Andromalius’ spatial barrier beneath the cloak.

Out of it poured small creatures that looked exactly like Vikir.

Doppelgänger leeches.

These leeches, which Vikir had taken from Black Tongue when he left Nouvellebag, had grown significantly.

“Oh my, how cute. What are these things?”

“Hmm- They do look like something you’d want to keep as a pet.”

“...Brother, you didn’t secretly father these, did you?”

“Friend, are these really leeches? They look just like you!”

“I’ve seen them once in Abyss tree, but I still can’t get used to it.”

“They grew up drinking Vikir’s blood, so they look exactly like him. They’ll be perfect once I dress them in the clothes I brought!”

“Wow, with the clothes on, they look exactly like him. This will be incredibly confusing for the enemies...”

Camus, Dolores, Sinclaire, Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, and others were all amazed at how identical the mini-Vikirs looked to the real Vikir.

Except for one thing: their skin color.

“Here, eat.”

Vikir fed the leeches a large amount of his blood, something he had never done before.

The leeches grew rapidly, feeding on Vikir’s spilled blood.

Eventually, Vikir released the leeches right into the middle of the poison humans’ camp.

Already made ferocious by Black Tongue, the leeches went berserk, driven by the scent of blood and death emanating from all around.

“...It was worth the effort to raise them.”

Vikir nodded as he watched a significant number of leeches rush towards the barracks atop the dirt hill.

“Hubby! Ignition complete!”

Camus could be seen waving from a distance.

Vikir nodded in response, giving the signal.

Understanding Vikir’s signal, Camus triggered her mana.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Flames and iron spikes erupted from below the dirt hill.

The poison humans descending the slope were impaled by the spikes, trapping them in place.

The flames spread, using the barracks and the struggling poison humans as fuel, expanding in all directions.

...Fwoosh!

Confirming that the fire had spread to the general rations storage, Vikir turned his head.

Ahead, Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, Sinclaire, and Dolores signaled the successful completion of their missions.

Vikir and Camus quickly regrouped with their companions.

“Now we head straight for the reservoir.”

By going to the mountain in the rear and blowing up one side of the lake, they could redirect the water flow and resolve everything.

Not only could they secure a water supply, but they could also wipe out the Reviadon forces in one fell swoop.

‘This might be our final mission.’

Vikir sprinted towards the shadow of the mountain ridge ahead.

It was the final race for the fate of the fortress.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]