Episode 435: Return of the Hound (2)
“It’s been a while, everyone.”
A low, low-pitched voice.
Dolores, Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, Bianca, and Sinclair widened their eyes as if they had witnessed something unbelievable.
Bikir. night hound.
An old friend who had been imprisoned in Nouvelle Vague four years ago was standing in front of him.
Taller height, wider chest and shoulders, sharper jawline.
Second of all, the fact that a handsome boy whose gender seemed ambiguous grew into a reliable young man, and the density of the aura felt in his taller body also changed to a different level.
It feels like a huge mountain, or rather, a mountain range, is placed in front of your eyes.
It was a change that made me feel like I had become a completely different person from the friend in my memory, but that made it even more real.
It means that the Bikir in front of you is the real Bikir after 4 years.
“… … Ha, but how?”
Dolores and Sinclair gape at Bikir.
Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, and Bianca also looked dazed as if they were stunned by the sudden reunion.
The first to come to his senses was Tudor.
“Bikir! are you right? you, are you right? Is that my friend Bikir?”
“At least I think so.”
“You bastard! You were worried! But why are you here What happened!”
“It’s too long to explain.”
“Then you can explain briefly!”
“hmm. Right. Then I will briefly explain.”
Vikir, who had slipped away from Tudor, who rushed to hug him at any moment, finished the summary after thinking about it for a while.
“I was imprisoned in the New Wave. jailbroken He came to assassinate Pasamonte right away. I’ve been hovering around the main castle for the past few days, looking for a moment to infiltrate, but you guys went in first, so I followed them.”
“… … Was something too omitted?”
Everyone, including Tudor, thought the same thing.
However, as Bikir said, there was no time for detailed explanations.
[…] … kill. devil.]
Bikir, who became a Death Knight, began to move.
Baskerville Type 4. Four teeth flew at Bikir.
A blow powerful enough to split the earth and rip the sky apart.
Moreover, its proficiency has already exceeded the master stage.
However, Bikir did not lose his composure even in the face of a huge whirlwind of slashing attacks.
“Four meals? If that’s the case, I’m pretty confident.”
Bikir also deployed the Baskerville 4th.
It was a swordsmanship that he had been with for the past lifetime, so his movements were as natural as breathing.
Four teeth ferociously bit each other’s space.
A few strands of hair and a few drops of blood fly.
At the end of the battle without concessions, Death Knight Vikir grinded his teeth.
… oh oh oh oh!
The dark aura radiates even stronger.
Death Knight Vikir raised the level of swordsmanship one step further.
Baskerville Type 5. Five teeth squeezed Bikir.
Then Bikir also raised the level of swordsmanship one step higher.
5 meals versus 5 meals. A storm of slashing blows as if facing a mirror.
fit – seokkeok –
Flesh splattered and blood fountained.
A little bleeding occurs on both sides along the fine cracks coming from the left and right asymmetry.
Death Knight Vikir raised the level of swordsmanship again.
Baskerville Type 6. A ferocious onslaught unique to carnivores rages.
Bikir also responded with 6 meals.
Blades collided, blades collided with each other, sparks flashed, and the battle situation became taut and balanced once more.
Next is Baskerville’s Type 7. Baskerville’s Eighth Eight. The same number of equal numbers that continues.
Before long, Death Knight Vikir pulled out the final card.
Baskerville Type 9. The ultimate murderous intent to destroy everything.
The dark red aura oscillates from stem to stem, cutting away rocks and hills around it.
Bikir admired in a low voice before the net of the slash that tore the whole world apart.
“… … 9 meals. Is this the state beyond the threshold of death?”
Maybe it’s because it’s in the dream world, but the state of life and death is ambiguous.
Moreover, it was all the more so because the fragments of the ego in front of him were mixed with the experience of death he had experienced before returning.
Also, it is only natural that he is aloof from life and death as he is a being who runs amok without reason.
As a result of all these things combined, the 9th type Baskerville was born with an extremely rare and coincidental probability.
Bikir is an 8-type Baskerville.
Even if the other side raises one level, I can no longer follow.
That is the limit of those who live, in other words, those who have a lot to lose.
“… … However, in the end, it is just a by-product left over from the wheel of fate.”
After a short evaluation, Bikir drew the demonic sword Baalzebub as long as possible.
Baskerville Type 8. The eight teeth Bikir had created swarmed towards the nine in front of his eyes.
“Bikir! Let me help you!”
Although Dolores stepped forward.
“Okay. Alone is enough.”
Bikir refused Dolores’ help.
In order to prepare for the upcoming fight against Tensangshi, it was necessary to save the divine power.
Also, Bikir wanted to check how ripe his 8 diet had been.
It was a good thing to face the 9th type Baskerville as an opponent that no one except Cane Corso had ever climbed.
… Kwak Kwa Kwa Kwam!
Vikir’s Type 8 and Death Knight Vikir’s Type 9 collided.
They were drawing trajectories of different shapes, but in the end, the essence is the same.
Because teeth exist to bite and injure others in the first place.
The balance is broken.
Surprisingly, the one that shook first was Death Knight Vikir’s Type 9.
[…] … !]
Death Knight Vikir, who had never been pushed before, took a step back for the first time.
His expression was contorted with bewilderment.
Seeing this, Vikir was confident in his judgment.
‘It can’t even be compared to the 9th type of Cane Corso.’
Certainly, each of the nine sword attacks created by Death Knight Vikir is powerful and destructive.
However, it tended to roam without a single clear intention or purpose, playing separately in different directions.
It is possible to catch a much bigger and stronger game when eight hounds hit and run in unison than when nine hounds play separately.
The present situation was exactly the same.
The eight teeth created by Bikir rotated in a circular sphere.
This is the most efficient way to kill that I indirectly learned from Cane Corso.
After going through fierce rotation and condensing into one place, it breaks irregularly protruding teeth and lodges itself roughly and heavily into it.
It is as if a hard bowling ball was thrown into the mouth of a beast with its teeth straight.
The nine teeth that Death Knight Vikir created were all broken.
On the other hand, the eight teeth Vikir created rushed towards Death Knight Vikir without breaking or falling out.
[…] … ! … … ! … … ! … … !]
Death Knight Vikir, who was sucked into the center of the black sun, did not even let out a single word of scream even in the agony of being torn apart.
He just raised his blazing pupils and glared at Bikir.
[…] … the devil.]
Before long, Death Knight Bikir crawled out between the slashes and slashes.
“Those who fight demons must be careful not to become demons.”
What awaited Death Knight Vikir, who came out from between the cracks of the Black Sun, was an even bigger Black Sun.
“It’s a pity that I’ve become no different from the devil.”
A black sun rose upon the black sun again.
Two huge black spheres interlock and turn like clockwork.
Death Knight Vikir, who was crushed by the pile of slashes, finally let out a scream.
A body that is cut in a pitiful way. But more than that, there is no place to quench this anger that is boiling like wildfire in your heart.
[…] … devil! die! die! Demon die!]
Death Knight Vikir was struggling, scratching the ground with a bloody rag.
The determination to kill the opponent no matter what.
All those who have passed through the era of destruction have terrible anger and resentment in their hearts.
And most of the words of those who were born as hunting dogs and endured such times are similar.
A collapsed ego, a dogmatic hatred, a tantrum that breaks out after being suppressed and suppressed again and again.
“… … .”
Bikir looked down at the figure and was lost in thought.
Dolores thought as she looked at Bikir’s profile.
‘What are you thinking?’
Death Knight Vikir is Vikir’s alter ego, a fragment of her unconscious.
It symbolizes and represents Bikir’s original hostility toward the devil as an existence that has become stronger by chewing over and over again over old grudges.
And what would Vikir be thinking right now, looking at an existence that is no different from himself?
‘… … you will be sad It must be painful.’
Dolores wept as she looked at Bikir.
Who would be fine even after seeing a self-portrait that is horribly ruined?
Where is the person who would not be shaken even in the face of that terrible scream, that terrifying level of desperation!
… … .
… … It was right here.
Vikir smiled lightly at the death knight Vikir scratching the ground and struggling.
“It is the best material. It’s worth stepping into the fragments of Naraksu.”
Leaving behind the embarrassment of everyone including Dolores, Vikir untied the sack tied around her waist and held it in her hand.
Patter- Patter- Patter-
And he said, shaking the contents of it to the ground.
“Eat a lot.”
They look like black kidney beans.
“… … ?”
Everyone, including Dolores and Sinclair, widened their eyes.
As soon as they land on the floor, the black lumps crawl towards the Death Knight Vikir in front of them.
They were obviously reacting to the smell of blood emanating from the body of the Death Knight Vikir.
‘The Black Tongue Leech’.
It was a secret weapon Bikir brought from New Wave.