The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 304: Age of War Enthusiasts (6)

The disciples, weeping, clung themselves to Prophet Rune, as he faced persecution and walked towards the execution ground. As Prophet Rune spoke, “As it is written, ‘When I raise the sword to shepherd, the flock will scatter, and you will all forsake me,'” a young apostle, who would later become the Pope, stepped forward and declared, “Even if everyone abandons you, I will never forsake you.”

Prophet Rune warned, “Listen carefully. Before the first rooster crows at dawn, you will deny me three times.” Eventually, Prophet Rune met a tragic end at the execution ground. Mocking thugs approached the young apostle and asked, “Are you also one who followed that sinner?” The young apostle denied, saying, “I do not know what you are talking about.”

Later, a passerby remarked, “This person used to plead with sinners and claim to be a messenger.” The young apostle denied, saying, “I do not know him; I swear.” Soon, numerous onlookers gathered and accused the young apostle, “We can tell from your speech; you are also a companion of sinners!” The young apostle vehemently denied, swearing, “I do not know!”

Then, the first rooster crowed.

-『Rune Gospel』 26:69-75-

* * *

“Ugh.”

Vikir clicked his tongue.

He quickly grabbed the hand of Pope Nabokov I and stepped back. Pope Nabokov, covering her mouth with her hand, blushed.

“Oh, young man~ I’m a nun~ you can’t do that!”

“…”

Vikir sighed lightly.

He might’ve sought the Pope’s assistance If she were sober, but with her current clouded judgment due to dementia, he couldn’t rely on the Pope.

After all, she was not originally destined to be entangled in this situation.

‘I need to find a way to evacuate her to a safe place.’

At that moment, Winston’s expression changed oddly as he looked at Pope Nabokov’s face.

Surprisingly, even in his demonized state, Winston seemed to maintain some level of sanity.

“If it isn’t the Pope. Only she may have the answer about who’s more evil, Human or demons.”

“…”

As Vikir remained silent, Winston continued.

“Quovadis Clan, descendants of the one ‘who denied God three times.’ Also, a family mourning the lost prophet, who the humans so fervently sought to protect.”

Referring to the long-lost Prophet Rune, who was persecuted and disappeared ages ago.

Winston chuckled.

“I too, once cherished humanity more than anyone. Back then, I deeply empathized with the teachings of Quovadis.”

At the same time, The fifth corpse Amdusias, with the tendrils of darkness swirling, pulled the reins embedded in Winston’s neck. The fragments of memories eroded by the demon’s influence created numerous sparks.

Vikir directly witnessed some of these fragments with his eyes.

…Among the shards of memories, a young boy was crying. His parents, who had accumulated considerable wealth by selling beans, faced a famine. Unable to bear seeing hungry neighbors, the parents emptied the warehouse, turning the beans into a large block of tofu for a charity event, guided by the teachings of their faith. However, the crowd that gathered, like a swarm of locusts, ignored rules and grabbed more than one portion per person.

Petty theft, lies, robbery, threats, violence… Eventually, they even used clubs and swords to snatch the tofu away. Having suffered theft, in the end, a massive group of bandits arrived late and complained about the lack of tofu, shouting phrases like “Why aren’t you giving it to me?”, “How dare you refuse.”, “There’s nothing to eat at the famous feast,” and more.

Those who took the tofu didn’t offer anything in return. The reactions were mostly limited to expressions like, ‘When did I receive tofu?’, ‘Ah, the person who gave me tofu? If there was such a person, I was truly grateful,’ and if complaints or dissatisfaction didn’t arise, it was considered fortunate.

Suddenly, overwhelmed by the weight of the crowd, the parents were crushed under the weight of the fence and perished.

‘What is God?’

…The boy, for the first time, deeply pondered the concept of ‘God’s teachings’ back then. And he heard a voice within.

[Deny God. Deny humanity. Deny yourself.]

A voice urging three denials. It resonated along with the crowing of the morning rooster.

That’s how the boy grew up to become a young man.

The young man who distrusted humanity built a wall in his heart against the world. The first one to break that wall was a beautiful maiden he met at school.

Being with her, the young man felt the frozen wounds deep within his heart healing.

Forgotten empathy and faith were also revived.

His parents’ beliefs, that humans are fundamentally good, were consistent with the thoughts of the person he loved. Naturally, the young man began thinking in the same way.

In such a situation, as he entered middle age, he suffered a significant accident unexpectedly. A severe injury obtained while suppressing rebel forces. To heal the resulting trauma, he decided to take a long overdue rest and left for the hometown of his deceased parents.

To the estate where they used to live.

Now a companion, he crossed the sea with her. However, during the journey, a violent storm erupted, putting the ship in danger of capsizing. Despite throwing everything inside the ship into the sea to lighten the load, the ship continued to sink.

In response, some crew members tried to throw several survivors into the sea.

They looked at him and her.

When he was struggling with what to do,

She quickly shouted, “Throw this person, not me! He’s hurt and can’t resist!” And he was thrown into the sea by the crew. Due to deteriorating health over the past several decades, to the point of being difficult to breathe, he couldn’t resist.

Sinking beneath the black water, he pondered, ‘What is human?’ What makes humans give up being human? No, were humans ever truly human? How wide is the gap between the definition of human and the actual human?’

And when he reached the bottom of the sea, he could hear the voice he had heard in his childhood once again.

[Deny God. Deny humanity. Deny yourself.]

The second denial.

Though the crowing of the first rooster did not reach him, it was a sight that wouldn’t be strange even if it did.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a sandy beach, completely healed from his injuries. It was a moment when he realized how he survived pressed under the fence with his parents as a boy.

With a rejuvenated body, he returned to the academy where he had spent half his life. Many things had changed – his body, mind, and the surroundings. He calmly adapted to reality. His faith in God, love for humanity, all remained skeptical, but he still had to live.

…And, finally, he saw a hole in his own heart. The delinquent he had supported and embraced since childhood. The descendant of a first class felon. He believed he could redeem this child.

It was an action taken based on the teachings of God, the faith of his parents that humans are inherently good, and the pride he felt watching the child grow. And now, in the current moment, with his heart pierced by her hands, he thought, ‘What am I?’ The revolving lantern passed before his eyes, memories rushing by like riding on the back of Unicorn. What have I been doing all this time? Was it all ultimately useless?

Who am I, and where am I heading? He felt deep doubt about himself.

[Deny God. Deny humanity. Deny yourself.]

The voice urging three denials. The moment he heard it for the third time, he closed his eyes. The dichotomy between demon and human was no longer important to him.

[Humans blame their most vile aspects on demons. Truly a shameless race.]

Amdusias pulled the reins, moving Winston’s body. Winston, too, lifted his face like a distorted demon, seemingly no longer confined by the concept of being human.

But Vikir remained indifferent.

“I am not interested in making value judgments between good and evil in the realm of demons and humans.”

[…….]

“Whether human nature is good or bad, I am human. And most of what I want to protect lies in this realm. That’s all.”

There is no good or evil in war; only an entangled whirlpool of relationships, large and small.

The veteran, who had spent decades on the battlefield, knew this fact very well.

At Vikir’s words, Amdusias raised the corners of his mouth with a sly grin.

[True, indeed. The pointless argument has gone on for too long. Just die already.]

Once again, a massive horn flew towards Vikir.

The moment Vikir was about to use Decarabia

…Boom!

There was a white barrier blocking Amdusias’ horn. In the whirlpool of complicated relationships, a single ray of hope shone brightly – a pure defense that functioned only for the sake of others.

“Van!”

There was only one person who called Night Hound with that name.

Dolores. She appeared with a resolute expression, blocking Amdusias’ attack.

Boom! Sizzle!

The surrounding terrain twisted fiercely once again. Behind Vikir, a roar was heard.

“Oh dear, what’s all this banging! It’s shaking an old woman’s eardrums!”

“Huh!? Pope! Why are you in such a place…?”

Dolores was surprised to see Nabokov behind Vikir and increased the size of her sacred barrier even more.

However,

[It’s useless.]

Amdusias lifted his outer horn and still managed to pierce through Dolores’s sacred barrier. It was a power vastly different from Dantalian or Belial. It overwhelmingly overshadowed Dolores’s divine power.

“…Argh! It happened again.”

Dolores gritted her teeth, pushed backward. Despite renewing her mindset and not neglecting her training, when faced with such a formidable evil, it was the same. There were limits to humans and the clear boundaries within which one could become stronger.

In the thorny path walked by the Night Hound, powerful enemies would continue to emerge. Considering the current level, it was fortunate that she could serve as a shield in front of him.

In crucial moments, Dolores repeatedly felt her powerlessness. Right then, a fluttering sound – a curtain of black feathers obscured her vision.

“…!”

Night Hound approached Dolores, covering her eyes.

“…Stop.”

Due to the strong wind making her heart beat too loudly, Dolores couldn’t hear his voice clearly.

“What?”

When Dolores questioned with a trembling voice, Night Hound spoke again in a low tone.

“Don’t look.”

An alert tone, as if a warning.

Dolores sensed it.

There was something in front of her that she was not supposed to see.

“U-Ug-Uwa-Ugha”

Her eyes widen in surprise, “F-Father?!”