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Chapter 140

Chapter 140 : The Power of Men (2)

…Flash!

Crimson strikes flashed each other.

As Vikir landed on the ground, he felt a sharp pain emanating from his wrist.

“It’s quite powerful. Is this what a Demonic Rotten Graduator is like?”

Turning his head, Vikir saw the figure of the monster, crashing into the outer wall of a building beyond.

[Grrrr…]

The monster was holding a large hammer coated with a thick Gooey aura, characteristic of a Graduator.

Bubbling…

The boiling tar or liquid asphalt-like aura of the monster.

It’s at least a High-Tier Graduator.

Vikir squinted as he looked at it.

“That was definitely the mace technique of the Quovadis Clan. Why would a demon use this technique?”

The holy power of the Rune Order (TL/N: Religion followed by Quovadis clan) was undoubtedly the opposite of demons, and it was quite ironic that this sacred power was wielded by demons.

“Could Quovadis be somehow connected to demons as well? Well… there are rotten bastards on their side too.”

Perhaps one of the Ten Corpses, a “Face Hunter” secretly operating in Venetior, could be found by following this lead.

So far, all of the traitors, defectors, and collaborators he had pursued had been plagued by the same demon, and they all shared the trait of losing their faces as soon as they died.

And the monster in front of him, judging by the black sack on his head, appeared to be a similar case.

Vikir became more serious about infusing mana into his sword.

“First, let us sever your arms and legs. We only require your mouth for interrogation.”

A crimson aura extended from the demon sword Beelzebub.

The aura, which was dense enough to be solid, traced a crescent trajectory.

Zzt-

A solid marble pillar was diagonally sliced off.

The monster raised his hammer in a hurry to block the attack, but he couldn’t avoid the rubble that collapsed behind him.

…Kurung!

Eventually, the monster emerged from the dust and dirt, and his black suit was torn to pieces, revealing a muscular body. Carved into his chest was a distorted inscription.

‘Ephebo’

“Ephebo? Is that your name?”

Vikir asked, but the monster didn’t answer. He only…

…Woosh!

Emitted a stronger aura from his body.

However, even with that, he was just a High-Tier Graduator. That level was no more than what Vikir had been when he was first taken to Ballak’s Village and adapted to his powers.

“It worked out well. It’s been tough just cleaning up the trash all this time.”

Vikir smiled lightly for the first time in a while.

He had been hunting only weak targets, so he was feeling a bit rusty.

If this High-Tier Graduator was decent, then it seemed like he could finally stretch his legs a bit.

…Flash!

Vikir also raised his aura forcefully.

Before long, Baskerville’s Seventh Style manifested itself in this cruel trajectory.

The first fang, the upper front canine.

The second fang, the upper incisor.

The third fang, the upper premolar.

The fourth fang, the upper molar.

The fifth fang, the wisdom fang.

The sixth fang, the lower canine.

The seventh fang, the lower molar.

Four upper and three lower teeth. A total of seven fangs descended towards the black-sacked monster Ephebo.

…Euddeuk!

The first fang bit into Ephebo’s body.

The second fang widened the wound created by the first and pulled it apart.

The third fang helped the second strike to be more powerful and connected it to the fourth strike.

The fourth fang shredded Ephebo’s entire body to the point where regeneration or recovery was impossible.

The fifth fang gathered all the recoil damage created by the previous four strikes into one place and hammered Ephebo’s body again.

The sixth fang, acting as a support for the seventh strike, completely sealed even the slightest gap that Ephebo could escape through.

The seventh fang, although it still looked small and insignificant, was optimized for lethality more than any other teeth.

“The seventh style is not just for show.”

Vikir said as he instantly crushed Ephebo, who had become a rag.

Even though it was small, it was still the seventh fang. Except for Vikir and Hugo Le Baskerville, the head of the Baskerville Clan, no one else was familiar with it.

When Vikir’s seventh fang grows to its original size, that would be the moment when Vikir becomes a Sword Master.

“And once I reach that level, Hugo won’t be so intimidating either.”

The fact that the death in his past life was more closely related to Seth than Hugo significantly weakened Vikir’s emotions towards Hugo.

However, even so, Vikir still didn’t have positive feelings towards Hugo.

After all, before he regressed, it was Hugo who had cut his throat, and it was he who had treated his countless brothers as expendable.

“Now, shall we begin the interrogation?”

Vikir kicked the mangled Ephebo onto a protruding iron bar on one side of the pillar.

Kku-gu-gu-gook…

Vikir’s hand bent the thick iron bar into a hook shape, like a fishhook.

Ephebo struggled, but he couldn’t escape because his body was pierced by the bent iron bar, like a fishing hook.

Overwhelming strength that subdued even a High-Tier Graduator in an instant.

If the academy students who had recently witnessed a Mana outbreak battle between Graduators and high-level monsters from up close saw this scene, they would have fainted several times over.

Vikir asked with a cold tone, “Now, who is your owner? Who made you like this?”

[Gr-grrrr…]

Instead of answering, Ephebo growled softly, showing his determination not to say anything.

(Ephebo was probably unable to speak any language to begin with.)

But Vikir didn’t care.

“It’s not necessary to conduct the interrogation through words alone.”

Just by examining the condition of the subject’s body, internal organs, bone placement, wounds, the freshness of blood flowing through veins, and the concentration of Mana, as well as inferring their social status in life, a lot of information could be obtained.

Vikir planned to dismember Ephebo’s entire body and dissect it into pieces.

Then.

“Hehe… Hehehehe…”

A wind-like sound came from behind.

When he turned his head, he saw the chubby man from earlier, the orphanage director Doxeller, drooling from his mouth as he laughed.

“That person… That person is coming… Hehe… My face… To get my face… I must not make mistakes.”

It was clear that his mind had completely unraveled.

After all, witnessing High Tier Graduators fighting with their Mana unleashed at close range was enough to drive anyone insane.

Mana waves, shockwaves, collapsing debris, and the like would have instilled fear akin to a disaster situation in ordinary people.

Eventually, Doxeller began to walk unsteadily somewhere.

“I have to hide… I have to hide…”

He rummaged through the rubble until his fingers were covered in blood, and soon he dragged out a fairly large safe.

“Hmm.”

Vikir watched this scene with interest.

Information that Ephebo hadn’t vomited up during the torture, information that Doxeller himself might not even have been aware of, was now revealing itself in his subconscious state.

Ironically, Doxeller going insane was actually a good thing.

At that moment.

Creak, creak, creak…

Doxeller, who was turning the dial on the safe, suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Then.

“Ugh, ugh-ugh! Groooooan!”

Something unexpected happened.

Doxeller’s entire body suddenly began to swell rapidly.

Vikir felt the surging Mana and immediately moved his body backward.

Before long.

Kwa-craaash!

Doxeller’s body suddenly exploded with a loud bang.

It seemed that a spell had been cast on him to self-destruct when certain actions were taken.

“…This is unexpected.”

Vikir had managed to get out of the blast radius, but he still suffered considerable damage.

The minor injuries were all healed by the regenerative power of the Fog lizard, but his clothes were burnt to a crisp.

His cloak, shirt, and even his mask were partially burned.

Vikir removed the plague doctor’s mask that covered his face and tossed it onto the ground.

“…”

When he looked around, he noticed that Ephebo, who had been impaled on the iron bar, had disappeared.

Judging from the flesh and organ pieces stuck all over the rough surface of the iron bar, it seemed that he had forcibly escaped with great difficulty.

It was a method of escape that would be difficult even for a living human being.

“Still, there was some gain.”

Vikir peered into the shattered contents of the safe, which had been partially damaged due to Doxeller’s self-destruction.

Inside the safe, there were a considerable amount of gold bars, real estate documents, and various gemstones.

It was probably the dirty money obtained by selling orphaned children as food for demons when there was nowhere else to go.

However, Vikir paid no attention to the wealth. What Vikir truly focused on was the various bundles of documents stacked beyond the safe.

Ledgers.

In there, detailed records of money deposits, where the children were brought from, and where they were sent were meticulously written.

“This will require analysis,” Vikir thought as he tucked the documents into his coat. He planned to send them by mail to Cindiwendy for investigation as soon as possible.

“Ugh! Please, stop bothering me!”

Even from this distance, he could already hear her groaning.

After Vikir left.

Security guards rushed to the sudden disturbance in the middle of the night.

They looked at the orphanage, which had become a mess.

“It seems like some giant monsters came and wreaked havoc.”

“Wasn’t this orphanage under the Quovadis family?”

“Who would dare to mess with one of the seven great clans?”

The guards searched through the ruins but found nothing significant.

The only thing they discovered in the abandoned safes was a substantial amount of unaccounted-for wealth.

It was unclear why there was so much money here and where it came from.

During their investigation, the guards discovered something shocking buried underground beneath the orphanage.

It was the corpses of children around the ages of 10 to 13.

Dozens of skeletons and pieces of skin were buried in the ground beneath the orphanage building.

The security guards were all horrified by what they found.

And among them was someone even more shocked.

“…!”

Saint Dolores.

Direct member of the Quovadis family, the student council president, and the head of the academy’s newspaper club.

She had hurried here upon hearing that an organization related to her family had been attacked.

Also, the students from the academy’s newspaper club were here to cover the incident along with Dolores.

There were rules in the academy’s newspaper club.

1st-year students could only cover events within the academy.

2nd and 3rd-year students were allowed to cover events outside the academy.

1st-year students were considered inexperienced and needed time to adapt to life in the academy, so their reporting was limited to inside the academy.

However, starting from the 2nd or 3rd year, students could go outside the academy for reporting purposes.

Dolores and the other student journalists had come here to investigate.

“…Unbelievable.”

Dolores couldn’t find words to describe the scene before her.

The orphanage had turned into rubble, and the remains of children were found in large numbers.

Who could have committed such a heinous act?

The security guards cooperated diligently with the student journalists for interviews.

“When we arrived, the incident had already occurred…”

“There is evidence of a powerful and sinister presence here, judging from the scattered blood and flesh…”

“It seems that a single individual attacked this place…”

“A fearsome villain has appeared in the city. Similar incidents are happening everywhere…”

The academy students earnestly recorded the statements of the security guards.

The next morning, these statements would become the outline of the newspaper articles to be distributed at the academy.

At that moment.

“…?”

Dolores, who was looking around with a perplexed expression, noticed something.

She picked up an item that had fallen to the ground while avoiding the gazes of others.

“T-This is…”

What Dolores picked up was a half-burnt mask.

It was a plague doctor’s mask with a crow’s beak attached…