The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 468: The Prelude to a Counterattack (6)

The nature of the Leviathan.

...Flash!

The entire basement brightened up.

The Spatial Traveling Magic Circle that occupied an enormous area had completely lost its effectiveness.

This magic circle, which allows one to travel over a very long distance in a single bound, is extremely costly and labor-intensive to construct, but its effectiveness is certain.

Flauros stood up in a state of complete disrepair.

His left arm and chest arm had been ripped off and torn away as he walked out of the circle of light.

[Damned demon hunter, biting and clawing until the very end...]

If he hadn't moved his heart to the right in the moment of crisis, he would have been in real danger.

Thousands of thoughts, one mistake (千慮一失). The moment of relief at the end might have cost him his life.

'Demons kill.'

The demon hunter's final growl was still echoing in his ears.

Flauros shuddered once.

Then he had to surprise himself at his body's reaction.

'...Am I shaking?'

Fear imprinted deeply on his subconscious.

Flauros shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

'That can't be, it's just the result of using up too much magic. I'm just tired.'

But he couldn't help the bitterness in his heart.

After all, in the end, he had been chased away by a mere mortal.

Flauros sank into a chair in the corner of the stone chamber.

He opened his bloodshot eyes and spoke.

[Once again, I'm sending all the poisonous soldiers to Tochka, and this time it will be nothing like the battle at the Water Source.]

Even if they were able to draw water from the source area, it would only prolong their lives by three days at most.

Tochka, which basically lacks drinking water, was not a good place to camp.

[The poison here is limitless. It's a fight we can't lose].

In other words, the demon hunters stuck in Tochka are still just flies.

All they had to do was bring in more troops and completely isolate them.

This was also a battle of pride.

A fight to restore the pride that had been torn away in the battle for the Water Source.

'I will not spare a single human being in Tochka.'

Flauros looked at the Original Uroboros in his hand.

The two snakes that crawled out of the sack made of hell trees entered the jar again, biting each other's tails, spinning around and starting to create poisonous fog.

Infinite poison. Infinite poisonous people. There is no house or power that can stop Leviathan now.

The same was true even if it was a union of the remaining Houses.

'Soon, the First Crown Prince will become Emperor. In the civil war, in the race war, I will be the victor. And then it will be the right time for me to accomplish my great work.'

As Flauros pondered his future plans.

The black-robed man who had collapsed in the magic circle stirred to his feet.

Seeing him, Flauros smiled in the face of Hobbes.

[Well done, my heir. Thanks to you, I was able to grant the crown prince's request. It was fitting that you sowed the seeds of the Hell Tree at the end].

"...."

The Harvester stood still, unresponsive.

Flauros rubbed his hands together, assuming it was fatigue.

[Yes, you must be tired, go get some rest. We'll be busy mass-producing poisonous vials for a while, and as soon as you're strong enough, you can return to work].

"...."

[Then head to Tochka as soon as the Poisonous Man Legion is complete. It's time to end this once and for all, and soon our family will rule the world].

At Flauros's words, the Harvester merely bowed his head deeply.

* * *

The Harvester removed the black hood that covered his face.

There was pale skin, deep dark circles, and the face of a young man whose youthful appearance had not gone away despite the passage of time.

Grenouille.

He sank back into the couch with a deep sigh.

His life had certainly been a solid one, from entering the Colosseo Academy, the best university in the empire, as the third son of Leviathan, and returned to his family after earning the honor of graduating early as the valedictorian. Rising to the rank of Captain of the 'Comprachicos', the core force of Leviathan's essence and one of the most powerful legions of poisonous mutants.

... But.

Even though he had succeeded in achieving the title he had so desperately sought, a position that earned him the recognition and respect of everyone in his family, and a life that was far more successful than his snooty, arrogant brothers, he couldn't help but feel a bit empty.

Since when?

...When he watched his uncle, whom he had known since childhood, a man who was always kind to him even if he was always eccentric, slowly lose his mind after he started experimenting with drugs?

...Or when he watched his classmates die in Hell Tree?

...When being put in a position where he was forced to look on in silence as countless people turned to poisonous people?

In the midst of this chain of thoughts, a voice suddenly echoed in Grenouille's head.

'I don't think you're a bad person, we were friends...'

Piggy. A blurry face, nothing special about him, but for some reason he stuck in Grenouille's memory.

As Piggy last words replayed in his mind, his hands, which had never trembled in all the years he'd killed so many people, began to shake violently.

The voice of a friend from long ago echoes in his ears.

'Why are you being so nice to me?'

'...Well, because we're friends.'

Grenouille bit his lip.

"Vikir."

Grenouille couldn't quite define what he felt when they reunited.

What he could say with certainty was that the gleam in his eyes, unwavering to the end, was the same.

He always had a reason for everything he did.

Vikir was someone he couldn't help but look up to, someone he couldn't help but follow and admire, someone he always wanted to chase and surpass, but couldn't even reach in the end.

He crossed unimaginably harsh lines of fire, and now he stands here, holding himself back.

He had always had a belief and a reason for his actions, and this time would be no different.

Grenouille groaned in a low voice.

The question he'd been pushing to the back of his mind had come to the forefront of his thoughts.

'Am I living my life right now?'

To produce poisonous soldiers to wipe out the opposition and make the First Prince Emperor.

To unify the empire in the truest sense of the word, uniting seven fragmented powers into one.

dalgeulag-

Suddenly, Grenouille felt a foreign object on his left breastbone.

A necklace. A small brooch in the shape of lips.

It's something he's worn around his neck for years, but never paid much attention to.

But today, it caught his attention unusually.

" ... 'Straight Lips'."

An artifact she received as a prize in the University League when he was a rookie.

In fact, his current ranking wouldn't have been possible if it weren't for Vikir.

"I used to feel bad that I got a useless artifact while everyone else got a good one."

An artifact that tells you the truth, no matter what the question, only once, yes or no.

The artifact was made from the lips of a sage who lived long ago and could only be asked once by a single person.

The cooldown time is about a hundred years. It's practically an artifact made just for Grenouille.

"...."

Grenouille stared at the dry lips.

Come to think of it. He remembers a conversation he had with a classmate when he first got this artifact.

'I'm the only one who does this.'

'Why, I think it's a very nice artifact. I sometimes have a lot of doubts about my life. It would be nice if I could ask you about it.'

'...Tsk, why do you have such doubts? I'm always doing well, you should be proud of yourself!'

Sinclair. The words of the woman he once admired, smiling brightly, suddenly popped out of Grenouille's old memories.

"...the straight lips."

Grenouille's mind raced through a series of events.

The inferiority complex of being overshadowed by his older brothers, the pressure to live up to the family's expectations, the tragedy of his Uncle Sakkuth, his only escape, the geniuses of the other families he met at the Academy, the small friendships that blossomed in the ranks, his rapid rise through the ranks of the main family, his appointment as a captain in charge of countless poisonous soldiers, and the task of turning countless others into poisonous people, and then war... and war....

Grenouille looked up.

A black cloak hung on a rack, and a massive scythe leaned at an angle.

Grenouille reached out, wrapped the cloak around himself, and picked up the scythe.

Grenouille turned his head and peered into the darkness beyond.

Inside countless cages, he could see poisonous people scraping at the bars with their teeth and nails.

Beings who had once been human, rendered irrational by drugs and abuse and programmed to hate everything in this world.

Grenouille turned his head.

He lifted his hand and placed it on his left chest.

"..., my father said. They are evil, we are good, and we, the Leviathans, will become the greatest house, and by extension, the prophets who will revive humanity. They are small sacrifices for that day, and after death, they will be saved by God and enjoy glory and power forever as heroes who stood at the forefront of the crusade."

His mind races with thoughts.

His father's words, his uncle's last appearance, his classmates reunited on the battlefield after graduation....

Finally, Grenouille opened his eyes as if making a judgment.

After thinking about it three times, he finally put his hand on his left chest and asked.

"Am I right in the judgment I am about to make?"

Immediately, a small light emanated from Grenouille's left chest.

...dalssag!

The Straight Lips were trying to give a proper answer.

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