The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound
chapter-478

Chapter 478: The Unrivaled Father Who Knows Destiny (3)

The eruption of the Nouvellebag volcano triggered by Poseidon, had a massive ripple effect.

The small action initiated by Vikir led to an enormous butterfly effect, resulting in a great flood that swept across the entire world.

For the next 150 days, torrential rains would drown all lands, save for a few high plateaus.

The wildfires ravaging the empire, the monsters that spread during the chaos, and the drought that seemed never-ending—all were washed away by the flood.

Those who were naturally on Tochka Island found salvation. Not only were the highlands untouched by the floodwaters, but the rocky and sandy terrain of the island made drainage extremely efficient. The fortress, already sturdy enough to withstand storms, had its only weakness—lack of drinking water—solved by collecting rainwater.

In normal circumstances, this unprecedented supernatural disaster would have been recorded as the Great Flood. However, with the empire already suffering from wildfires, droughts, plagues, monster hordes, and the ‘Storm of Dreadful Calamity’.

The Great Flood that followed was seen as a miracle.

One catastrophe canceled out another.

* * *

Deep drainage ditches were dug throughout the barracks within the fortress. Large barrels were placed outside the tents, allowing the refugees to drink freely from the collected rainwater. They indulged, drinking as much as they wanted after days without a single drop.

“With the situation outside the fortress as it is, there's no way the enemy can attack. It’s time to focus on maintaining order inside the walls,” said Orca.

He deployed the personnel from Nouvellebag to manage internal security and reorganize various regulations within the fortress.

Meanwhile, Marquis Sade, who had barely rested since the end of the battle, was already itching for more action.

“Heh heh heh—finally, after 40 years, I can complete the revolution! Where’s that prince? The emperor's already dead, so I’ll have to kill his brat!”

“Grandfather! Once I recover, we’ll go together!” Sadi intervened, preventing Sade from immediately grabbing a boat to sail towards the capital.

Aside from these moments, the reorganization efforts after the battle continued steadily.

Led by Osiris and Cindiwendy, everyone pooled their efforts to reinforce and rebuild the Tochka fortress.

They prepared and braced themselves for the future, knowing that the Great Flood would eventually end in 150 days. There was hope—hope for a future to march towards. With this, everyone's faces were bright with optimism.

…Yet, there was one person who remained expressionless.

Vikir.

He stood at the top of the fortress wall, facing the pouring rain head-on.

Splash!

Outside the fortress, the land was now transformed into a sea,

Fierce waves rolled in with white foam crashing over them.

Vikir compared the current Tochka with the one before his regression.

“…”

Originally, the wheel of fate should have turned in an even harsher direction. The world had become hell due to the invasion of demons. Amidst the chaos, Sadi had attacked Nouvellebag with her army.

With the help of his granddaughter, Marquis Sade had managed to escape from Nouvellebag.

Orca had caused the explosion of Poseidon while trying to stop Sade's escape, leading to the Great Flood that washed away the Moonsoon of fire.

However, by then, countless people had already perished in the fire, and the unexpected flood had caused tremendous harm not only to the demons but also to humanity.

…But how were things now?

Despite being off by about a week, which made securing drinking water quite difficult, the flood had begun relatively on schedule.

The Storm of Calamity had been dispelled, and the Gate of Destruction had cooled down.

[It seems like a flawless victory at this point. Don’t you agree, human?] Decarabia boasted as if it had done all the work.

But Vikir quietly shook his head.

“We haven’t won yet. We’ve only secured a victory in one major battle. The final confrontation still awaits.”

[Are you referring to the First Corpse?]

“Yes.”

Vikir nodded as he gazed at the vast, ocean-like world beyond the fortress.

Decarabia widened its eyes in awe.

[Ah, I see now. That’s why, right after escaping Nouvellebag, you prioritized reclaiming the Donquixote clan. You wanted to secure their invincible fleet, which is as powerful as the legendary invincible cavalry.]

"Exactly. In a world like this, the one who controls the fleet will reign as the supreme ruler."

Vikir's words left Decarabia quiet for a moment. After a brief pause, it spoke again, somewhat cautiously.

[Speaking of supreme rulers, human, I was reminded of something.]

“What is it?”

[Do you remember Phlorosya, the one you faced before?]

Decarabia continued with a hint of unease.

[Phlorosya was notorious in hell for being one of the most deceitful and tenacious rulers. Even his death seems questionable to me. What if he faked his demise?]

Phlorosya was such a habitual liar that his death itself seemed doubtful.

However...

“That’s not something we need to worry about anymore.”

[What? Why not?]

“Whether he was alive or dead at that moment, in the end, he won’t survive.”

Vikir glanced at the raging storm and waves, as well as the distant black mountain range, a faint smile forming on his lips.

“This world, when you really think about it, is just as dangerous as hell.”

* * *

Amidst the relentless rain pouring down in the jungle, a man was sprinting through the dense forest, packed with razor-sharp leaves.

[Huff! Huff! Gasp—!]

The man, covered in blood, was none other than Thomas de Reviadon, the second son of the Reviadon family.

But the aura of death surrounding him and his now sharp, animalistic fangs indicated he was no longer the same person.

Phlorosya. Just before his death used his sorcery to transfer his soul, taking over the dying body of Thomas.

For demons, human hosts were merely vessels, easily interchangeable, so it wasn’t entirely unusual.

In his final moments, Phlorosya had seized Thomas’ body and fled the battlefield, eventually making it to this place.

[My body is falling apart… I won’t last much longer… Damn it… Forcing open the Gate of Destruction has torn my soul to shreds… I need to reach the capital soon… I have to ask Number One for help…]

Still, having killed Figgy, he felt he had some leverage to negotiate.

That was his thought.

Just then—

An ominous chill crept over him.

The temperature had dropped sharply as soon as he entered a narrow rocky pass.

Phlorosya had unknowingly ventured into the Cold Valley, a place where even in the height of summer, frost clung to the ground.

The natives living in the foothills of the Red and Black Mountains knew it well, but Phlorosya had no such knowledge.

With his already low body temperature dropping further, his movements became sluggish, and his joints ached.

Blood poured more freely from the wounds puncturing his neck, stomach, and limbs.

And then—

[Gasp!]

Phlorosya hit the ground, flattening himself as close to the earth as possible.

Sssskk...

A massive shadow loomed through the rain and leaves.

A giant spider emerged, weaving its way through the forest as if searching for something.

From beyond the trees, more of these giant spiders appeared, one after another.

[Are... Are they looking for me?]

Phlorosya instinctively knew that if he was discovered by the spiders, he would die—a complete and utter annihilation.

Desperately, he held his breath and crawled along the ground. Like an insect, he crept, avoiding the gaze of the spiders.

After what seemed like an eternity, Phlorosya managed to slip past the spiders' perimeter and reach the riverbank. The river was swollen from the ongoing torrential rains, despite being on higher ground.

Sploosh!

As Phlorosya dipped into the water to cross, a sharp, searing pain shot through his lower body.

[Ugh!? Just some fish!?]

Fish with saw-like teeth clamped onto his flesh, tearing it away.

'Nateri,' the man-eating fish that lived in the rivers of the Red and Black Mountains, had caught the scent of his blood. Swarms of them were visible even on the water’s surface.

[...Damn it!]

Just as Phlorosya turned to escape the river—

Shhh!

A dark mass filled his vision. A giant mouth lunged at his head, aiming to devour him whole.

It was a Mushussu, a massive snake that dwelled in the region’s waters. The serpent had silently crept up behind him, swallowing Phlorosya in an instant.

[You filthy beast!]

With his remaining strength, Phlorosya tore through the snake's belly. Fortunately, it was still a young one, making it easier to kill. But the effort to rip through the tough snake hide had drained most of the life force he needed to keep running. That was his real misfortune.

[...I need to find a place to rest. If I don’t, I’ll die in this disgusting wilderness. What a disgrace…]

Phlorosya fought to keep his eyes open as they continuously drooped. In desperation, he tore off his eyelids, leaving only his exposed eyeballs, which brightened his vision somewhat.

Eventually, he spotted a deep burrow dug under the roots of a tree. It seemed like a place where he could escape the rain and maintain his body temperature.

He staggered toward the burrow, but perhaps due to his exhaustion, he failed to notice the large claw marks gouged into the tree trunk nearby.

...The consequence was swift and brutal.

[Groooaaar!]

A thunderous roar exploded from behind him.

Phlorosya didn’t even have time to turn around.

A blind, elderly female Oxbear, a massive creature weighing several tons, swung her paw with destructive force. It slammed into Phlorosya’s skull, shattering it completely.

[Aaaargh! Nooooo—]

As Phlorosya spewed poisonous blood from his shattered body, the Oxbear looked down at him with disdain. She wiped her bloodied paw in the rain and retreated into her burrow, as if to say that killing him wasn’t even worth the effort.

Phlorosya crawled along the ground, inch by inch.

[...! ...! ...]

His mangled mouth could no longer form words. What was it he wanted to say?

Phlorosya's mind was a tangled mess of suffering. Was it the agonizing cry of his broken body? The burning hatred toward those who reduced him to this wretched state? Perhaps it was fury at the cruel reality, or the bitter thoughts of revenge he had sworn again and again during his harrowing escape.

Or... was it fear? The dread of oblivion, the primal terror of death that he had always managed to evade?

All these thoughts churned in his half-destroyed brain as it struggled to stay conscious.

And then, they came.

Wheeeenng... wheeenng... wheeennng...

A cloud of mosquitoes, drawn by the scent of blood, swarmed around him. Some of them clung to his body, greedily sucking at his blood. Oddly, there were those that gnawed at his flesh, tearing away bits of his skin. Others ignored his flesh entirely, sinking their needles deep into his body, aiming for the very bones.

Among the swarm, there was one particularly strange mosquito. It neither drank nor bit; it simply floated above the others with its dull, clouded eyes, radiating a malevolent aura. Despite doing nothing, it ruled over the rest, emitting a presence of overwhelming dread.

Phlorosya, or what remained of him, glared at this mosquito with bloodshot eyes. His body trembled with hatred, defiance, and fear.

[...! ...!]

The mosquito slowly descended, landing gently on Phlorosya's head. Then, with a deliberate motion, it pierced the empty air above him, as if targeting something unseen, something deep within.

Shlooooop.

A red mist flowed into the mosquito, siphoned from Phlorosya’s very essence. The insect drained his soul.

The people of the Red and Black Mountain feared these creatures above all—the mosquitoes that feasted not on flesh or blood, but on the soul. And now, one had come to claim Phlorosya's final moments.

[...!]

His last breath, his last thoughts, were consumed by this lowly, insignificant creature.

A pitiful and wretched end for one who once held such power, now reduced to nothing more than a meal for a mere insect.