The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound
chapter-499

Side Story Chapter 4

Der Vogel kämpft sich aus dem Ei.

- The bird struggles to emerge from the egg.

Das Ei ist die Welt.

- The egg is the bird’s world.

Wer geboren werden will, muß eine Welt zerstören.

- Whoever seeks to be born must first destroy a world.

Der Vogel fliegt zu Gott.

- The bird flies towards God.

Der Gott heißt……

- That God’s name is...

"Sa-Sancho! You’re alive!?"

"Tudor! My friend! How did you…?"

Tudor and Sancho looked at each other in disbelief.

After staring at each other with dumbfounded expressions for a while, the two shared a heartfelt embrace, the kind only real men can share.

"I thought you were dead!"

"So did I!"

The two were crying as they clung to each other.

And then...

"Um... Friendship is great and all, but can you make some room for your lover?"

Behind Tudor stood Bianca, a vein popping on her forehead.

"Bianca! My Dulcinea!"

"Who the fuck is Dulcinea?"

"That’s just a figure of speech…"

As soon as Tudor and Bianca reunited, they immediately started bickering.

At that moment...

"Ugh… Where am I?"

Amidst the many revived soldiers, one man slowly got to his feet.

Tudor, Sancho, and Bianca instantly recognized his face.

"The second prince!?"

Here stood an old man.

Cold eyes, a stubborn nose, an uncompromising mouth, and a mustache that exuded a heavy atmosphere.

This old man, with his stern appearance, was currently…

"Bwaaaaah!"

...crying, and not just a little—he was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Roxana! Penelope!"

Hugo le Baskerville, head of the Baskerville family, was holding his wife and daughter tightly as he cried out every last drop of moisture from his body through his eyes.

Roxana and Penelope exchanged bewildered looks.

"How did we even survive?"

But there was something more pressing right now.

"Pomeranian! My baby!"

Penelope hugged a small girl, who looked about six or seven years old, close to her chest.

Hugo, tears still streaming down his face, leaned in close to the confused Pomeranian.

"You, from today, are the head of the Baskerville family! This grandpa will do anything for you!"

"Waaah—I don't like the mustache!"

"You don’t like the mustache!? Hey! Is anyone there? Bring me a sword! No, forget it! I’ll rip it out with my bare hands!"

Hugo continued to cry for quite a while, holding his wife, daughter, and granddaughter close.

...Meanwhile, his eldest son, Osiris, who had never seen his father like this, wore a blank expression.

"So, even my father is human after all."

He smiled softly and turned his head.

There stood his younger brother, Seth.

"Brother."

"Yes, my brother."

“I don’t know how to explain it… I lost control of my body to a demon…”

“I know everything. Say no more. If everyone has been brought back to life, that’s all that matters. You are not to blame.”

“Brother…”

Seth began to cry.

Osiris patted Seth on the shoulder before turning his head.

Beyond the railing, he saw a familiar face in the bell tower.

Cindiwendy.

She was looking at Osiris with a wavering gaze.

Suddenly—

Cindiwendy turned and disappeared down the stairs.

…Tap!

Osiris chased after her.

Some time passed.

The Morg and Baskerville families, now in-laws, hosted a friendly sparring session.

Amidst eight-year-old boys and girls clashing in mock battles, the instructors walked between them.

“If you seriously injure each other, you will be disqualified. Keep that in mind!”

“Hahaha—Always so diligent.”

The instructor shouted this with a smile.

Watching nearby, the butler Barrymore chuckled.

The two casually began to chat while laughing.

“I heard you’re quite skilled as well, Butler Barrymore. They say you’ve slain a great number of demons.”

“Well, of course. I’ve served the Baskerville family my entire life. When I was younger, I even fought with the head of the family himself.”

“Hahaha—Speaking of which, the head of the family has really mellowed with age. I can hardly imagine how he used to be.”

“Indeed. Time sure flies.”

Just then—

…Boom!

A loud explosion interrupted their conversation, coming from the training field.

“Let’s settle this today once and for all!”

“I’ll crush you to pieces!”

Highbro of the Baskerville family and Highsis of the Morg family were fiercely battling each other.

“Let’s finish this!”

“All you can do is copy what your brother says! You fool!”

Their swords and magic clashed intensely, while nearby, their younger siblings, Middlebro and Middlesis, were also locked in a balanced duel.

Highbro, Middlebro, Lowbro.

Highsis, Middlesis, Lowsis.

The triplets of the Baskerville family and the three sisters of the Morg family fiercely unleashed their power.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Perhaps it was their shared experience of surviving the war and being resurrected on the same battlefield, but their rivalry burned brightly once again today.

…But—

“Are my older brothers too dumb to get tired?”

“And my older sisters are sooo stubborn, huh?”

Lowbro and Lowsis, holding hands tightly, seemed to suggest otherwise.

As the young gentleman and lady from the Baskerville and Morg families embraced each other, a newspaper page flew by in the wind.

[Extra Edition] Marquis Sade's 666th Escape Attempt Fails!?

- Late last night, another prison break occurred at ‘Nouvellebag,’ known as the worst prison…

- The culprit, once again, was Marquis Sade…

- His granddaughter, Professor Sadi, disguised herself as a guard to attempt his rescue but was thwarted…

- The joint effort of Lieutenant General Souare and Countess Isabella stopped the escape just in time…

- The one credited with discovering the disguised Professor Sadi was Lieutenant Kirko, gaining much attention…

- She had been known as an elite among elites, with a strict and rigid demeanor…

- Meanwhile, Professor Sadi remains missing after fleeing…

And some time before the Baskerville and Morg families became in-laws—

“……”

There was another person who had been granted new life on the day of the ‘complete resurrection.’

An unknown soldier.

One whose name had never been widely recognized.

In fact, the name ‘Baskerville’ was more famous than this retired soldier sitting alone by the fountain in the square.

“……”

For a long time, he silently gazed at the scenery of the square, pondering what he should do with his life after retirement.

Just then—

“Buy some flowers! Fresh flowers here!”

A young girl passed by the fountain.

And at that moment—

“……!”

The girl suddenly stopped in front of the fountain.

She walked over to the man, who had a dazed expression, and offered him a flower from her hand. It was a pure, white lily.

The man looked at the flower, puzzled.

“I don’t have any money.”

“I’m giving it to you for free.”

The girl handed him the flower.

“Why give this to me?”

“No reason. I just felt like I should.”

The girl smiled brightly and then asked the man,

“My name is Nymphet. What’s yours, mister?”

“…Vikir.”

When the man said his name, the girl beamed.

“Thank you for protecting this world, soldier.”

And with that, she left, leaving the man alone in the square with the flower in his hand.

He stared at the flower for a while and then muttered quietly,

“…Maybe I should open a flower shop.”

At that moment—

“There you are.”

A voice called from behind him.

A woman wearing a deep red hood approached the man.

The man tilted his head, as if seeing her for the first time.

The woman slightly lifted her hood, revealing her face.

“…!”

Surprise spread across the man’s face.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Hero of the War, Empress Camus Morg.”

“Oh, skip the formalities. No need for that.”

The woman walked towards him with bold strides but then slowed, her steps becoming more hesitant and shy. She leaned on the railing of the fountain, right next to the man.

“…What brings you here, Lady Camus?”

“Drop the titles. We’re the same age.”

“Are we really? I didn’t know that.”

The woman chuckled softly at the man’s response.

Then, she gazed at his face with a curious expression.

'Don’t look at someone else’s husband like that.'

'You said you’re me, and I’m you, didn’t you?'

'Ah, not in this case!'

A voice echoed in her mind.

She let out a small laugh and murmured to herself,

“I am you, and you are me, but… this is this, and that is that, I guess.”

“?”

The man looked at her, clearly confused.

After pondering something for a moment, the woman nodded.

“That flower.”

“??”

“Can I have it?”

“???”

The man seemed taken aback.

But the woman continued, unfazed,

“I just… want to get to know you a little better.”

That was that.

This was something else.

* * *

"Everything worked out, didn’t it?" Camus clapped her hands cheerfully.

"It seems so," Vikir replied with a faint smile.

All the innocent people who had been unfairly caught in the demons' schemes and lost their lives were now revived.

Thanks to Camus's precise control of the resurrection spell, only those who died without any connection to evil or demons were brought back to life.

She then glanced at Vikir with an amused smile. "The Vikir of this world? Quite the fine middle-aged man, I'd say... a real silver fox with a refined maturity."

“Ha, so I heard that you liked flower arranging as a kid, Vikir,” chimed in one of the others. “I guess in a peaceful world, you'd aim to be a floral artist.”

“And it seems even 'Nouvellebag' of this world has been restored. Judging by the news, the me from this world is still thriving. That makes me happy.”

Aiyen, Dolores, Sinclaire, and Kirko—who had all come from the other world—chatted merrily, their spirits lifted. The people of this world, the people from theirs—everyone had been revived. But the six who had crossed over from the other world had made a decision: they would no longer interfere with their fates here.

“Now we need to plan how to live in this world ourselves.”

“We’ll adapt, somehow.”

“There are small differences, but nothing that should be too difficult.”

“As long as we’ve got money, we can settle anywhere!”

“You guys sure are carefree. I like that.”

But there was one among them who couldn’t shake off the lingering thoughts: Vikir.

[So, it was a milestone… Was this my role?]

[Just by traveling through this place, you will find what you seek.]

[But even after you get what you want, you will be drawn back here.]

[Because that’s what ‘he’ wants.]

The words Baal had spoken on that day replayed in his mind.

And there was more.

“When the last moment of your life comes, return to this place.”

Was it the mysterious nature of the Abyss that Baal resided in? The voice that had briefly echoed in his mind… whose voice was that?

Vikir stroked his chin, lost in thought.

He didn’t know who that voice belonged to, but a specific place suddenly came to mind.

“…The Sword Tomb.”

Without realizing it, he spoke the name aloud.

"What? The Sword Tomb? Where is that?" someone asked.

"I once heard from a revived soldier. It's a place where demons were mysteriously massacred."

“Isn’t it near the Yuni Salt Desert? But why…?”

"Hold on. Why do I have a bad feeling about this? You’re not planning to disappear again, are you?" another asked, suspicion rising.

“That’s definitely within the realm of possibility, knowing him,” someone else added.

Camus, Aiyen, Dolores, Sinclaire, and Kirko had overheard Vikir's muttering, and now all five women were silently watching him.

“……”

“……”

“……”

“……”

“……”

Unaware of their gazes, Vikir continued to mutter to himself.

"I need to meet the strange person guarding that place once more."

Memories from long ago surfaced in his mind.

"We’ll meet again one day."

His fists clenched instinctively.

…Squeeze!

It was the first time in a long while that Vikir felt his warrior’s spirit rise.