Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 165: Between Reality and Illusion

A bright red sky. A flock of crows is circling. The neck hangs high on the pole.

Seeing the horrifying scene before her, Dolores' mouth was half open.

"Where the hell is this?"

As far as they knew, there was no other battlefield in the world as harsh and barren as this one.

And the head hanging above her...

"Who's there?"

Dolores blinked and tried to concentrate.

This head probably belongs to someone very closely related to nighthounds.

So Dolores decided to take a closer look at the decapitated man's face.

It might help him guess Nighthound's true identity.

But.

Cackle.

A crow swoops down and starts pecking at the severed neck.

Clack, clank, clank, clank.

More crows swoop down and peck at his throat.

Dolores looked at her neck, showing through the black feathers, and swallowed hard.

From the shape of his neck, it was impossible to tell what his face once looked like.

It was already badly decayed and had been pecked at by many crows, turning it into just a skeleton.

``Is this Night Hound's embarrassing memory?''

Dolores turned her head slightly to look at Night Hound next to him.

"..."

He stood there motionless.

There was no way to know if he was wearing a mask of shame.

Just

.

"I remember the old days."

Those little words were still dry; the only emotion they contained was a sharp, gray regret.

...ir... Carville

name: ...>

The room, which had been almost completely torn apart, shook silently.

In the end, Dolores was unable to glean any information about her identity from Nighthound's memories.

It only made her more curious and sorry for what he went through.

``...What kind of life has this man led, and what kind of burdens does he carry alone?''

Just as when treating plague patients together, Night Dog's serious The look on her face aroused even weaker and sadder feelings within her.

It was more than just maternal love; it was more than just sympathy for a neighbor in need; it was more than holy sympathy.

Meanwhile, Vikir was looking at a sight he had not seen in a long time.

Old homeland.

The old world he left behind.

He was a little nostalgic, but he never wanted to go back.

A world line where he was falsely accused of being a traitor and executed. Although he worked hard as a hunting dog, he was abandoned by his owner.

``The revenge is over. There's nothing left to do.''

Hugo Baskerville is the man who cuts off his head and hangs it on a post, but it turns out he was faking it from Andromarius. Set Baskerville.

Now that he has been eliminated and everyone associated with his family has been hunted down and executed, the basic revenge is already over.

Of course, there was still revenge on Hugo Baskerville, but that was for later.

Ah.

Vikir casually raised his sword and sliced through the landscape in front of him.

The blow flew and broke his neck, and the crows surrounded him.

Black feathers danced in disarray.

Shout!

.

Shit, shit

Kya, kya

The crow circled into the sky and disappeared.

The world was soon torn apart.

At that moment, Dantalian's growl echoed from within the black mist.

[What are you?] Who are you? [Why do you remember the landscape of your hometown?]

The laughter disappeared from his voice, replaced by confusion and bewilderment.

Vikir did not answer Dantalian's question.

[...Yes. You don't have to answer; you just have to see for yourself.

Dantalian opened the next bag.

The bag pulsed as if it were alive, and he pulled the next bag through the opening.

It was "Fia" who looked into Vikiel's memories and found the most horrifying thing.

Tsutsutsutsu...

Eventually, an old man appeared from the night fog.

Vikir recognized him at first sight.

"Hugo, Hugo Les Baskerville!

An old man with white hair. His face was covered with spots and wrinkles, countless burns, and scars.

"Who, who is this?"

Dolores I didn't notice Hugo at all.

Of course, she recognized him.

As a senior member of Quobadis, she often exchanged pleasantries with Hugo, the Iron Swordsman of the Baskervilles, at major events of the Empire.

But the last Hugo Vikir remembers was a world apart from the Hugo she knows today.

Years of war have completely changed the appearance of men.

Hugo's face, which looked stubborn but serious and dignified, aged rapidly within a few years after the start of the war.

Not only the wrinkles and spots but also the face itself have become tighter and rougher.

Furthermore, the numerous cuts and makeup smudges on his face make the old Hugo look even more ferocious.

Normally, a dog should be paralyzed by the majesty of its "master" carved into its bones.

But for some reason, Vikiel was not so afraid of Hugo in front of him.

"Maybe it's because I saw you holding your Pomeranian and smiling like an idiot."

Hugo even recently shaved his mustache to suit his Pomeranian's liking!

If the owner loses his dignity, the dog will stop listening.

Vikir was also able to let go of some of his instinctive fear of Hugo.

Furthermore, Dantalian has not yet accumulated enough magical power to fully recreate the powers he remembers.

Tingling.

Vikil pushed the aura contained in the demon sword, Beelzebub, to its limit and threw it away.

Seven teeth bit into Hugo.

Yes, this time it was the dog that bit the owner.

"It's almost there."

Vikir tore the fake hugo's entire body in front of him, vowing that one day he would bite the real one.

Seeing her illusion shattered, Dolores asked Vikiel cautiously.

``Excuse me, but who was that old man before?''

``...Ah.'' Dolores was silent.

She saw her father in a bag of terror.

And Nighthound saw him in the bag of terror.

Dolores saw herself in Nighthound.

Could Nighthound recognize himself in her?

Dolores thought to herself.

Just as she was being comforted by a dog at night.

On the other hand,.

[Off!]

The blow Vikir gave when he killed Hugo was returned to Dantalian.

[Scream! [How can you overcome shame and fear so easily, you inhuman thing?]

screams Dantalian in a bloodcurdling voice.

[But! Even if you are so emotionless, this time it will not be so easy this time, Hohohohohohohohohohohohohohohokoyo Hoho Hohohohohohohohohohokoyo Hoho Hoho Hoho Hoho Hohohohohohohohohohoho! ]

The last bag began to move.

"Love". The most fundamental element that moves humans.

Indispensable emotions are essential for human life.

Now it was Vikir's turn to come out of the bag.

"..."

Dolores was nervous for some reason.

It's really immature and pathetic to think like that while fighting a Demon King-class monster.

"...I'm still curious!"

Dolores cursed herself for letting his eyes wander, but she remained vigilant.

He kept an eye on everything that appeared.

She couldn't say whether it was because she was preparing for a battle with demons or because she was curious about Nighthound's past.

And now.

Tuttututu...

The bag Dantalian left behind as her last resort was wide open.

[Hohohohoho! A man like you must collapse miserably in front of love. No matter how brave you are, you can't help but lose your temper and feel embarrassed in front of your loved one's face! No wonder romance always sells! Love is something that transcends everything.

However, Dantalian's bright voice didn't last long.

"...!"

Dolores felt the same way as Dantalian.

Flutter.

Her eyes widened, and her love bag opened wide before her eyes.

The nighthound lover's face emerged from the thick night fog.

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