Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound Chapter 43

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Episode 43: Fiancee (1)

Morgue’s Supernova.

The only daughter of the head of the household, Morgue Lespannet.

Lineage is bloodline, talent is talent, personality is personality, and appearance is appearance.

There is nothing missing, and no one doubts that he will become the head of the House of Morgue in the future.

‘But still a 15-year-old kid.’

Bikir looked up and looked over the wall of fire and the dead pool of skewers.

Morgue Camus. She was standing in her arrogant posture, looking down at her.

And the three sisters of Morga, who are all battered and sprawled on the floor, are trembling as they see Camus.

“Ka, Kamuya, the older sisters… … ”

“Oooh, just to stop the intruders… … ”

“U-those quarreled first!”

Highsis, Middlesis, and Lowsis are one year older than Camus.

However, they were crushed by the overwhelming spirit of Camus, and they had their heads on the ground, unable to breathe properly.

It was an unusual sight for Morgue, a famous magician, where the rankings between siblings were strict as the achievement gap was large according to age.

yet. Camus had an alluring smile.

“Camus? Are you talking to me now, sisters?”

“Hee!? Oh no! It can’t be, Viceroy!”

“Move. If you don’t want to be like that.”

Camus stretches out her finger as if it’s annoying.

There, corpses threaded on iron skewers and burned were strewn along the border.

It was the part where it became clear who created this bloody landscaping.

“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

The three sisters trembled and ran away at the words of their one-year-old younger brother.

There is only a strange silence in the battlefield where they disappeared.

“… … .”

“… … .”

“… … .”

Even the triplets of the Baskerville family, who had been baring their teeth just now, lose their temper in front of Camus.

Soon, Camus rode his horse and approached the Baskervilles.

Stopping exactly in front of Vikir, she opened her mouth while looking directly into Vikir’s eyes.

“Welcome, partner.”

Of course, he was referring to the future joint operation to subdue monsters and barbarians.

* * *

Seeing him again after 7 years, he had changed quite a bit.

First of all, the freckles on his face are all gone, and his teeth are also gone.

Her cheeks were chubby, but she still lost some fat, but it was already slowly revealing how she would grow and how much her beauty would be.

Bikir recalled seeing her appearance from a distance several times before returning.

‘Was it thirty lines then? Pretty was pretty.’

Even Bikir, who didn’t care much about a woman’s appearance, admired her beautiful appearance, and the expression ‘dazzling’ couldn’t be so appropriate.

It was said that the Morgue family did not have to worry about firewood all winter, even if they collected only love letters and marriage proposals that came to Camus.

And Camu itself enjoyed the situation.

She caught all the men by her skirt width and got involved in all the scandals here and there.

Of course, this was a strategic decision.

Camus despises men who cling to her beauty, but plays with their hearts, instigating competition and confrontation between each family, and absorbs all the by-products of this under Morgue’s command.

A very political act, in the end, she did not give her heart or body to any man until the end, and because of that, all men craved her love even more.

Empress Wu who reigned while taking countless impoverished men as prisoners.

She greatly prospered Morgue and made a great contribution in the war against the Demon World.

… … but.

This is the story before returning to the end.

For some reason, I don’t hear any scandals about Camu, whom I met in this life.

By the time she turned 15, she must have already managed the fishing grounds for not only the imperial family but also the other six prominent men, but she is surprisingly quiet.

For some reason, there are only rumors that she is not dating a single man even though she is of a moderate age.

‘It’s something unknown.’

Bikir rode the horse with a little doubt.

And beside him, Camus rode close behind him.

“… … That’s why the Baskervilles knew this situation. The damage caused by the savage tribe… … So, after categorizing them… … Morgue formed an alliance with Baskerville in preparation for this… … .”

It’s about talking non-stop.

Vikir made a few casual responses, but didn’t say anything.

Camu asked Bikir openly.

“Looks like the Baskervilles don’t know much about the enemy and the savages of the Black Mountains, right?”

“No way. They fight all the time. I will know better than you.”

“Then why did you send only chaff? You see, they are all young, insignificant hounds?”

Camus seems to have grasped the level of the Baskerville delegation.

Bikir tried to answer, but kept his mouth shut.

It was already discussed with Morgue that Baskerville’s real ‘main unit’ was hiding in the mountains across the street.

“You know, what do you ask?”

Then Camus smiled.

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“I just dropped it once. Because you don’t know.”

“It’s a matter within the family, of course you know. Aren’t I the head of the delegation here?”

“It could be a scarecrow used as a throwaway card within the family. But now I get it.”

Camus rode his horse and rode in front of Bikir.

Then, looking back at Bikir, he smiled brightly.

“That you are quite trusted within the family.”

After that, Camu’s questions continued.

“Do you know which tribe is the most troublesome among the savage tribes?”

there is no way you don’t know Before returning, one of Bikir’s main missions was to search for and subdue the enemy and the Black Mountains.

“From Morgue’s point of view, it must be ‘Balak’, a warrior tribe. And the ‘Rococo’, a tribe of shamans.”

The ‘Balak’ tribe is the most frequent warrior tribe in the border area, and although there are not many of them, each member of the tribe is a warrior with strong power, so it is a troublesome opponent for the Baskervilles.

“The archery they use is powerful enough to be on a completely different level from that of the Empire. The principle is not well known.”

“Hmm. that’s right. They are an unknown tribe.”

Camus nodded and looked back at Bikir, her eyes shining.

“I know the ecology of the savage tribes well. I’ll give you 8 points.”

“Huh.”

“A perfect score of 100? You fail.”

Camus stuck out her tongue and Bikir frowned slightly.

“You answered well, but why is the score the way it is?”

“Because you answered well.”

“… … ?”

When Bikir still made a puzzled expression, Kamyu put a mischievous smile on both sides of his lips.

“What does a man do because he’s smart?”

“… … ?”

“I hate smart men. After all, males have to have a bit of stupid taste.”

It seems that the mind that shook and shook countless men before returning is not going anywhere.

Bikir, as if he was not worthy of an answer, rode his horse faster and went ahead.

However, Camus followed Bikir and increased his evaluation of his elongation.

“Six points for equestrianism. Is it because he is shorter than me? You rode a horse that was too big.”

“… … .”

“Four points for fashion. Your clothes are too dull.”

“… … .”

“Are you not answering? 1 Manner.”

“… … .”

“Well, the face is 99 points! You grew up well. But I deducted one point because I couldn’t manage my expression.”

Listening to it makes my ears tingle.

Bikir cut it off.

“Stop the useless evaluation.”

“Why is it useless?”

“Then where is it useful?”

“Of course, isn’t that an evaluation we need for our future?”

our future?

When Bikir made an absurd expression, Camus shrugged and pushed her chest forward.

“Since he’s my future husband, I’ll have to strictly reconsider.”

“… … .”

“If I twist, can you rate me too?”

“… … .”

“No, I rather want to be evaluated. I need to know what you think of me.”

At Camu’s words, Bikir asked as if he was dumbfounded.

“Why am I your husband?”

“Why? You passed your uncle’s test the other day.”

As I thought about what to say, I remembered that I had once competed with Adolph, the deputy of the House of Morgue.

At the time, Adolf, the sorceress, had a water jar on his head, and Vikir broke the sword at the end of the sparring and used the fragment to break the jar to pass Adolf’s test.

‘… … But that was already 7 years ago?’

But now Camus was talking about it as if it had happened the other day.

Camus said with a trembling tooth.

“How could my uncle judge my husband by such a crude test!? really annoying! My uncle’s decision at that time blocked my marriage path! How! I made that promise in front of everyone, so now I’m all married! But what can I do! A promise is a solemn law! Hey, even if you don’t like the testimony, you have to follow it, what should I do? I’m going down, down… … !”

No one said anything, but it was burning hot alone.

Bikir looked at it and thought.

‘As expected, he’s an excellent flame-type wizard.’

If he learned flame magic to the limit, would he be able to spontaneously ignite like that by himself?

For Bikir, it was a bit of a curiosity.

Anyway, that is that and this is this.

As there is nothing good to go against the will of the future head of the House of Morgue, Bikir was considerate of Camus.

“Forget what happened that day. I’ll make it happen for nothing.”

At that moment, Camu’s body stiffened.

Bikir looked at it and thought.

‘Is it paralysis magic? That fleeting moment is great. But why did you cast it on yourself?’

Sometimes wizards do eccentricities that are incomprehensible.

I wasn’t very interested, but I have to ask what’s going on in terms of diplomacy.

When Bikir is about to open his mouth.

“hey! How can you do something that never happened! What happened!”

Camus suddenly screamed.

Bikir was embarrassed for the first time since returning.

The moment he opens his mouth to say something.

“I’m a genius, so I know that once I’ve seen it, I’ll never forget it!”

Along with Kamyu’s cry, something flew into Bikir’s face.

A piece of black cloth. It was a bloody garment that was the size an 8-year-old could wear.

The pattern of the Baskervilles is clearly drawn on it, and it is the clothes Bikir covered Camus who became naked in the past.

The cloak, seven years old, still smelled faintly of the sweat of the day.

Holding it in her hand, Bikir frowned at Kamyu, who was far ahead.

‘… … They give without washing.’

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