The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound
chapter-391

Chapter 391: The Worst Torture (Part 2)

…Crash!

As rocks shattered, tremors shook the area.

Amidst the encirclement of numerous prison guards, one man in particular stood roaring at the center.

“It’s Sakkuth de Reviadon. The instigator of today’s riot on Level 8.”

The guards shouted,

“Hey! Sakkuth, you mf! How long has it been since you came out of solitary confinement!”

“Damn it – this is the second time already! You want to go back to solitary again!?”

“If you don’t behave, we can really mess up your miserable life!”

However, even in front of the encirclement of swords, axes, and maces, Sakkuth’s crazed roar showed no signs of diminishing.

“The Queen has abandoned me! She didn’t uphold the command to release ‘him’! That’s why she abandoned me! She hasn’t even given me a hint of escape so far! It’s obvious! Ugh! I hate it now! Let me out of here! Or just kill me!”

He was clearly not in his right mind.

Saliva dribbled from his mouth.

The blood vessels in his extremely congested eyes wriggled like worms, as if about to burst through the surface.

Sakkuth wildly thrashed around, swinging the BDISSEM chain attached to his wrist, and with each motion, crimson droplets scattered from the wounds all over his body.

Thud-thud-thud-thud-

The guards were extremely cautious, making sure that Sakkuth’s saliva and blood didn’t touch them.

“Ugh! It’s the blood of a plague leper!”

“Be careful. If it touches you, you’ll be infected with the plague right away. ‘Red Death’ or something…”

“They said it was the worst pandemic that almost wiped out the indigenous people of Red and Black Mountains”

“He’s a walking pandemic that even the sulfur showers during incarceration didn’t disinfect. We must avoid him at all costs.”

“But, should we just keep facing off like this?”

“Then why don’t you go and try to catch him! He’s from the poisonous family, after all.”

“He should speak properly. They say he’s uncontrollable even in Reviadon, causing trouble outside his family.”

Sure enough, Sakkuth, after biting his tongue, spewed blood from his mouth like a fountain.

Splatter-

As the mist of sprayed blood drifted on the wind, the guard’s encirclement swayed like an octopus laid out flat.

Pandemic. The highest level of infection. It’s a phenomenon that should be most guarded against in confined spaces like Nouvellebag.

This was a problem different from just disabling power or mana.

Captain Bastille, who stood at the forefront of the encirclement, furrowed his brow in consternation.

“Goodness. He’s nothing special if we judge by his strength… but his plague venom is the issue.”

At that moment, the adjutant beside him spoke up.

“Shall we ask one of the Majors?”

“How can we bring in those who are not available? Major D’ordume and Major Souare are currently dispatched to the surface.”

“Well, shall I ask Lieutenant Colonel Flubber once again?”

“No need. We’ve already sent people twice. If they haven’t returned yet, it probably means they’ve been ‘eaten’.”

“Then what about Lieutenant Colonel BDISSEM…?”

“She’s the core of Nouvellebag security. Bringing her to such a scene is out of the question. If Warden Orca knows about this, there will likely be consequences.”

Four out of the five majors were definitely not an option.

So now, there was only one person left.

With the most cautious demeanor seen among all the attitudes displayed so far, the adjutant uttered the final name.

“…What about Major Black Tongue?”

Upon that question, Bastille’s expression stiffened.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he responded.

“That lunatic is absolutely out of the question.”

“Well, but excluding Lieutenant Colonel Flubber, isn’t he the only one capable of subduing that monster right now?”

“Calling in a psycho maniac like Major Black Tongue just to catch one prisoner from Level 8 is absurd. It’s like making a mountain out of a molehill.”

High Level Captain, Bastille is a figure known for his balanced strength, temperament, and handling of various situations with ease.

Seeing him wear such a perplexed expression was indeed rare.

“Good Lord. Of all times, the influx of new inmates is at an all-time high. Major D’ordume and Major Souare going to the surface simultaneously is unprecedented. What on earth is happening on the surface lately…”

Not only the Warden, but also Major D’ordume and Major Souare.

With these three key figures of Nouvellebag simultaneously absent, various disturbances, large and small, had been ongoing recently without ceasing.

Just then.

With a roar-

Sakkuth broke through the encirclement.

As he rampaged, splattering blood everywhere, he quickly grabbed the neck of one lower-ranking guard who hadn’t managed to evade him.

*Squelch!*

The unfortunate lower-ranking guard caught in Sakkuth’s grasp was none other than ‘Kirko Grimm’.

“Don’t interfere with me! Otherwise, I’ll snap this wench’s neck right away.”

With one hand gripping Kirko’s neck, Sakkuth growled.

Kirko, twice astounded by Sakkuth’s unimaginable strength and the vile stench emanating from his body, had to be wary.

One wrong move, and her neck could snap or she could die drenched in the dreadful plague venom coursing through her blood.

“A hostage situation?”

“What do you think?”

“What do you want, you lunatic!”

When the guards questioned him fiercely, Sakkuth chuckled.

“What do I want? Nothing. I’ll just watch you fools scramble around while my sorry excuse for a life unfolds. Oh, by the way, you’ll need to suspend construction on Level Ten for a few months. I’m going to splatter some delightful blood around.”

With that, Sakkuth spat on the floor of the labor yard.

*Ssssssssssssssh-*

The dirt around where Sakkuth’s spit landed fizzled and melted, emitting a foul sound and odor.

Bastille narrowed his eyes as he watched Kirko.

“A hostage situation, now resorting to such tricks.”

“Grrrr! Normally, there should be at least one hostage in this kind of atmosphere.”

“If you harm a single hair on that friend of ours, you won’t die so gracefully.”

“Give it a try. Grrrr! After all, I’m just a discarded body.”

As the standoff between Bastille and Sakkuth continued.

“Sir! I’m fine!”

Kirko managed to speak with difficulty.

“We can’t negotiate with the prisoner. I don’t mind, so please proceed with the suppression… ugh!”

Kirko couldn’t finish his sentence.

Sakkuth slapped her to the ground and then lifted her up again.

“Ugh! You bastard!?”

Kirko spat blood from her nose and mouth, her eyes wide open.

And Sakkuth stomped on Kirko’s face with his foot.

“Grrrrrr… Seems like you’re hallucinating. The reason those guys can’t approach me is just because of my plague. Not to protect a lowly guard like you.”

“…You fiend!”

Kirko tried to draw the longsword at her waist, but Sakkuth couldn’t let that happen.

He used the chain on his wrist to wrap around Kirko’s blade and held it against her neck.

*Thud!*

Despite Kirko channeling mana, she couldn’t completely shake off Sakkuth’s strength.

Furthermore.

“If you don’t stay still, I’ll spit blood snot on your face.”

“……”

It was an impossible situation to resist against Sakkuth, who threatened with the plague as his weapon.

As Kirko bit her lips in frustration, Sakkuth chuckled.

“Born from a guard who was [] by a prisoner, no wonder you catch on so quickly. Grrrrrr!”

“……”

Kirko gritted her teeth, her stomach churning, as she struggled. However, due to Sakkuth’s strength and the plague he possessed, there wasn’t much she could do in this situation.

Seeing his subordinate thoroughly at the mercy of the situation, Bastille muttered grimly, “….In the end, there’s no other choice.”

The sacrifice of a few for the greater good is inevitable. It’s essential to preserve the group.

They needed to suppress the situation as quickly as possible before more harm ensued.

If it meant the sacrifice of one lower-ranking guard, it was a relatively small price to pay.

Taking advantage of Sakkuth’s attention being focused on Kirko, Bastille sent a signal to all senior guards to ready their weapons.

‘Everyone, prepare for attack! We need to take down this… huh?’

However, Bastille’s order for a forceful breakthrough was interrupted midway.

Step by step, amidst the guards, there was one set of footsteps moving towards Sakkuth.

With an unusually calm expression and casual demeanor, as if taking a leisurely stroll.

It was Vikir, or rather, Garam.

Garam spoke in his usual dry tone.

“The construction shouldn’t stop because of your contaminated blood.”

“….?”

Upon Garam’s words, both Sakkuth and the gathered guards turned to look at him in surprise.

‘Wait, that’s not it.’

Realizing that he might have been too straightforward in expressing his inner thoughts, Garam corrected himself slightly.

“Release my dear colleague. Let’s settle this through talking.”

Garam Nord, aged 21, a Low level Lieutenant.

It was the unexpected appearance of a lower-ranking guard, whose bulk spilled over his uniform due to his swollen physique.