The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound
chapter-470

Chapter 470: The Beginning of the Counterattack (6)

The true nature of the Reviadon clan.

…Flash!

The entire basement brightened up.

The teleportation magic circle, which had occupied an enormous area, completely lost its effectiveness.

This magic circle, which enables long-distance travel in a single instance, requires significant costs and manpower to install, but its effectiveness is unquestionable.

Phlorosya slowly stood up, his body battered and bruised.

Walking out from the beam of light, his left arm and chest were missing.

“Damn night hound. He held on until the very end…”

If he hadn’t moved his heart to the right at the critical moment, it would have been truly dangerous.

A momentary lapse in concentration. He could have lost his life the moment he let his guard down.

‘Die demon.’

The demon hunter's final roar still echoed clearly in his ears.

Phlorosya shivered once.

Then he was surprised at his own reaction.

‘…Am I trembling?’

A deep-seated fear engraved into his subconscious.

Phlorosya shook his head, trying to shake off the thoughts.

‘That can't be. It's just the result of using too much magic power. I'm just tired.’

But he couldn't deny the bitter feeling inside.

After all, he had indeed fled from a mere human in the end.

Phlorosya sat down on a chair in the corner of the stone chamber.

His bloodshot eyes gleamed as he spoke.

“Send all the poison humans to the fort once more. Destroy them all.”

Even though they had redirected the water from the crater, it only extended their lives by a few days at most. The water wasn’t unlimited and with the amount of reinforcements they’ll finish that in a few days.

The fort, fundamentally lacking in drinking water, was not a suitable place for a siege.

“Our poison is limitless. This is a fight we cannot lose.”

In other words, the demon hunters holed up in the fort were still as good as dead.

If the demon sent more troops and completely isolated them, that would be the end.

This was also a matter of pride.

A fight to reclaim the pride lost in the water supply area battle.

‘I won't leave a single human alive in the fort.’

Phlorosya gazed at the poisonous spear Ouroboros in his hand.

Two snakes emerged, crawling back into the jar, biting each other's tails and creating a swirling cloud of poison.

Infinite poison. Infinite poison humans. There was no clan or force capable of stopping the current Reviadon clan.

This was true even for the allied forces of the other houses.

‘Soon, the first prince will become emperor. I will be victorious in both the civil war and the demon war. And then, it will be the perfect time to achieve the great cause.’

While Phlorosya was mumbling about his future plans.

The man in the black robe, who had collapsed in the magic circle, seemed to regain consciousness and stood up.

The reaper. Phlorosya, seeing him, smiled with Hopps' face.

“Well done, my son. Thanks to you, we were able to fulfill the prince's request. Planting the seed of the abyss at the end was an exceptionally good decision.”

“…”

The reaper stood silently.

Phlorosya, thinking it was due to exhaustion, waved his hand dismissively.

“Yes. You must be very tired. Go and rest. Soon, we'll be busy mass-producing poison humans, so return to the production site as soon as you recover your strength.”

“…”

“And as soon as the poison human army is complete, head straight to the fort. This time, we will end it completely. Our clan will soon grasp the world.”

The reaper only bowed his head deeply in response to Phlorosya' words.

* * *

The reaper removed the black hood covering his face.

He was a young man's face with pale skin, deep dark circles, and a youthful appearance that hadn't completely faded despite the passage of time.

Granola.

He let out a deep sigh and sank into the sofa.

As the third prince of the Reviadon clan, he entered the Empire's top university, Colosseo Academy, graduated early as the second-highest in the Hot Department, and returned to his clan, rising to the rank of captain of the 'Comprachicos,' the strongest mutated poison soldiers and core force of the Reviadon clan. His life seemed like a smooth ride.

...But.

Despite achieving the high position he had longed for, gaining recognition and respect from everyone in the clan, and obtaining the title of a life more successful than his proud and arrogant brothers, he couldn't shake off the feeling of emptiness.

When did it start?

…Was it when he saw his once kind but eccentric uncle gradually lose his mind after participating in drug experiments?

…Or was it when he watched his classmates die in the abyss?

…Or was it when he rose to a position where he had to silently watch countless people turn into poison soldiers?

Amidst these thoughts, a voice echoed in Granola's mind.

"I don't think you're a bad person. We were friends..."

Figgy. An unremarkable face, yet a classmate whose memory lingered for some reason.

The moment he recalled Figgy's end, his hand began to tremble, something that had never happened before despite all the people he had killed.

The voice of another friend from long ago echoed in his ears.

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"…Well, because we're friends."

Granola bit his lip.

"Vikir."

He couldn't exactly define the emotions he felt upon reuniting with him.

But he clearly remembered the unyielding gaze that hadn't changed.

A classmate of the same age whom he couldn't help but follow and respect, always striving to surpass but never quite reaching.

That person, having crossed unimaginable deadly lines, now stood here, blocking his path.

Just as he always had a reason and conviction behind his actions, it would be the same this time.

Granola groaned in a low voice.

As his thoughts reached this point, a question he had been trying to avoid surfaced.

"Am I living properly?"

Mass-producing poison humans to wipe out enemy forces and make the first prince the emperor.

The true unification of the empire by consolidating the seven divided powers into one.

Clink—

Suddenly, Granola felt a foreign object on his left chest.

A necklace with a small lip-shaped brooch.

He had worn it around his neck all this time without paying much attention to it.

But today, it unusually caught Granola's eye.

"…‘Truth Lips.’"

An artifact he received as a prize in the university league during his freshman year.

In truth, he wouldn't have ranked if not for Vikir.

"While others got great artifacts, I was sulking about getting a useless one."

This artifact would answer any question with a single 'yes' or 'no,' just once.

Made from the lips of a sage who lived long ago, this artifact could only be used for one question by one person.

The cooldown was about a hundred years, essentially making it an artifact for Granola alone.

"..."

Granola quietly stared at his parched lips.

It reminded him of the conversation he had with a classmate when he first got this artifact.

‘Why did only I get this?’

‘It seems like a really good artifact. Sometimes, I have severe doubts about whether I'm living my life properly. It would be nice to ask at those times.’

‘…Tch, why would you have such doubts? I'm always living well! One must always be confident!’

Sinclaire. The words she said with a bright smile, someone he once admired, suddenly resurfaced in Granola's long-buried memories.

“...Truth Lips.”

Granola recalled the series of events that had happened so far.

A life full of inferiority, overshadowed by his brothers, the pressure to meet his clan's expectations, the tragedy of his only solace, his eccentric uncle, the geniuses from other families he met at the academy, the small friendship that bloomed in the abyss, his rapid rise in the main clan, his appointment as a commander overseeing countless poison humans, the job of turning countless people into poison humans, and the endless wars...

Granola raised his head.

The black cloak hanging on the coat rack and the large scythe leaning against it.

He reached out, draped the cloak over his shoulders, and picked up the scythe.

The Grim Reaper. Granola turned his head to look at the scene unfolding in the darkness.

Inside numerous iron cages, poison humans scratched at the bars with their teeth and claws.

Once human beings, now designed to lose their reason and hate everything in this world due to drugs and abuse.

Granola turned his head back.

He raised his hand and placed it on his left chest.

“...Father said that they are evil, we are good, our Reviadon clan will become the greatest clan, and furthermore, the prophets who will revive humanity. These are small sacrifices for that day, and after death, they will be saved by God and enjoy eternal glory and power as heroes who stood at the forefront of the holy war.”

Thought after thought trailed off.

Father's words, uncle's last moments, the classmates he reunited with on the battlefield after graduation...

Eventually, Granola, as if making a decision, opened his eyes.

After pondering three times, he finally placed his hand on his left chest and asked.

“Is the decision I am about to make the right one?”

And then, a small light emanated from Granola's left chest.

…Twitch!

The Truthful Lips were about to give an honest answer.