The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 337 – Mating Room (5)

Vikir pushed Sinclaire back.

“How much mist have you consumed?”

Sinclaire was in such a daze that she couldn’t even answer basic questions.

‘Her body temperature has recovered adequately anyway. She’ll come to her senses if left alone.’

Vikir laid Sinclaire on the floor, extinguished the fire, and stepped outside the cave.

To his surprise, he saw two enormous clawed hands piercing through the darkness of the ceiling.

Hands covered in blue scales. They must belong to the owner of this breeding room.

-Ding!

[Owner of the breeding room wishes to check the condition of the specimens]

[Targets: Human 1 (♂)]

[Targets: Human 2 (♀)]

.

.

An unpleasant notification tone chimed.

Kugugugugu…

The shadow cast by the blue hand approached Vikir.

While one hand merely circled above the ceiling, it seemed to be searching for Sinclaire hiding somewhere beneath the layers.

‘I can’t just leave them like this.’

Vikir drew his sword.

The surface of Beelzebub emitted a sticky red aura, dripping droplets.

…Flash!

The sharp thrust flew like an arrow and struck the blue hand.

Ting-

The aura embedded in the blue scales sparked countless sparks as if iron clashed against iron.

But still, the hand seemed to only flinch slightly, showing no apparent fatal injury.

Kugugugugu…

Now, the hand that was searching for Sinclaire joined forces to capture Vikir.

The two hands swiftly surrounded Vikir, pushing him in one direction.

Enough was enough; Vikir pulled out all the candies from his pocket.

[Vikir]

-LV: 1 (%)

-Nicknames: ‘Rat Hunter’, ‘Hell’s Dogmaster’, ‘Bloodsoaked jade flower lumberjack’, ‘Majin Executioner’, ‘Killer of the Black Seas’ (NEW)

-Stats

↳Strength: 300

↳Agility: 300

↳Health: 300

↳Physical Resistance: 1

↳Magic Resistance: 1

↳Reflexes: 1

Until now, Vikir had been saving up the candies of agility, and by consuming them all, his three basic stats were now equalized at 300 each.

…Boom!

His movement speed increased significantly.

Vikir’s enhanced speed caused a moment of confusion between the two hands that were moving predictably around him.

And Vikir seized that moment.

“Now, it’s your turn to shine.”

[Hiss-]

As Vikir extended his left hand, baby madam, who had been waiting at his wrist, spewed a web from her mouth.

It shot out swiftly and stuck to the backside of the approaching blue hand.

Boing!

Vikir pulled the web, launching it into the air.

The giant hand floating in the air was gradually getting closer.

Concerned, Decarabia hanging on his chest spoke up.

[Human. Are you sure about this? The scales of a Demonic Dragon are thick and tough. It’s likely to be challenging with your current strength… Didn’t you fail to cut it earlier?]

“It’s fine. I’m not aiming for the hand.”

Vikir pulled the web, lifting himself upward.

Then, surprising the hand, which seemed to retreat in confusion, paused for a moment.

Thunk-

Vikir landed on the blue scales and lightly tapped it with his hand.

Injecting a bit of mana, he found that the blue scales covering the Demonic Dragon’s back were not only lighter and tougher than ordinary metal but also had excellent elasticity.

‘Indeed, it seems impervious to ordinary attacks, whether from a sword or magic.’

With graduator-level skills, it was impossible. A direct confrontation would lead to defeat.

In an instant, Vikir made his decision.

…Flash!

The strike erupted once again.

The red aura flowed through the blue scales, past the back of the hand, through the forearm, and even beyond into the darkness.

Kugugugugugu…

Eventually, a tumultuous vibration began.

The two hands swiftly retreated through the ceiling and disappeared.

In the meantime, the web Vikir had attached was also severed.

Decarabia exclaimed urgently.

[Oh no! We missed it! With the web cut too, this is a big problem. How do we escape this breeding room now?]

“Just wait and see.”

[What are you waiting for! When you die, it’s over for you, but I might end up spending a lifetime inside Amdusius’s tower! Ahh! And on top of that, it’s the Demonic Dragon’s laboratory!]

Decarabia fretted, spewing all sorts of complaints. However, Vikir remained unfazed. Despite missing the Demonic Dragon’s hand and severing the web, he showed no sign of wavering.

Vikir’s gaze was fixed on the ceiling. The location where the Demonic Dragon’s hand appeared and disappeared.

[…? Human. It’s already too late. No matter how much you look, nothing will change…]

Decarabia looked puzzled.

…Tap!

A response came from the ceiling.

…Tap! …Tap! …Tap!

Raindrops falling little by little. It resembled the drizzle that had fallen before to lower the body temperature. …However, there was a difference this time.

Swoosh- Suddenly, it poured down like madness. “What, what is this? Why is it raining so heavily all of a sudden?” Decarabia seemed bewildered. But Vikir nodded as if he had anticipated all of this.

“The strike I made earlier wasn’t aimed at attacking the Demonic Dragon.”

[…Then?]

“It targeted the precipitation device above.” Every time the hand came and went, Vikir could clearly see it. The sight revealed with each clearing of darkness.

It was a peculiar-looking contraption, presumably serving as the outlet for releasing rainfall from above.

“Whether it’s a device to suppress fires within the breeding room or simply to lower the body temperature by causing rain, I don’t know. However…”

Vikir surveyed his surroundings as the torrential rain poured relentlessly.

“The only certain means of escape from this place.”

The sawdust began to swell as it absorbed water. However, far more water poured down than the sawdust could absorb.

Gurgling… Splish-

Naturally, water started to fill up within the breeding room. Wheels, water buckets, food bowls, and more began to float on the rising water.

‘Now that the hand has vanished, it’s time to rescue Sinclaire.’ Vikir leaped towards the raised platform where he had set up the sawdust pit.

And at that moment…

Thud!

Vikir felt a terrifying shock pressing down on his entire body. The weight bearing down on him as if it would crush him came from the blue hand, the Demonic Dragon’s fist that he thought had disappeared! Seeing the fist instead of the hand striking down, it seemed there was no affection whatsoever towards the specimens.

“Well, at least I managed to sting him a bit, so there won’t be any visible marks.” Vikir gritted his teeth and got up.

Gurgling…

The Demonic Dragon’s fist gradually pushed upward. However…

Thud! Eventually, the second hand that emerged came swooping down. This time, Vikir couldn’t resist at all.

Crackling!

The sounds of muscles and veins in his lower body bursting and breaking were deafening, hopefully, a shield protected him from deadly damage. Fortunately, the ground was soaked with water and sawdust, so he could avoid becoming a bloodied mess.

[Human. If it weren’t for me, what would you have done?] Decarabia, blocking the fist, sneered arrogantly.

“…”

But Vikir had no energy to retort. The muscle fibers and veins in his lower body were constantly tearing and reconnecting due to the power of the Basilisk, fueled by mana. And with Decarabia consuming so much mana, there was no guarantee how long he could maintain this defensive shield.

‘…Should I have invested the remaining stats in strength instead of agility?’ But if he had done that, he wouldn’t have been able to seize even this opportunity. He wouldn’t have been able to avoid the combined assault of the two hands in the first place.

So Vikir gritted his teeth and pushed Decarabia’s shield with all his might, pouring his entire strength into it. And in response, the Demonic Dragon also exerted force with both hands, trying to crush Vikir.

“There’s no other choice.”

Vikir decided to resort to his last resort. The Picaresque Mask. He would use it to transform into a dog, evade the Demonic Dragon’s gaze, return to the cave with Sinclaire, and escape the breeding room while the water rose.

To do so, he needed to avoid the Demonic Dragon’s fist, pressing down with force enough to crush his body. He also needed to rescue Sinclaire from potentially drowning inside the cave…

Just as Vikir was about to put the mask on his face, “Brother?”

A voice that should not be heard at this moment. Sinclaire, who extended her head out of the sawdust pit ahead, was wide-eyed.

Not archery, but swordsmanship. An aura burning with intensity. And a mask covering his face.

Sinclaire’s body began to tremble uncontrollably once again. It wasn’t due to her body temperature this time.

“No, no. Brother? No, right?”

But Vikir didn’t respond to Sinclaire’s desperate denial.

Gurgling!

The Demonic Dragon’s fist pressing down on him.

Vikir also had to make a choice.

Tell the truth, or not?

And at that crossroads, Vikir had always pursued a pragmatic answer.

“…Yes.”

Vikir’s dry voice echoed in the damp atmosphere.

A single word, mercilessly shaking Sinclaire’s pupils, finally escaped Vikir’s lips.

“I am Night Hound.”