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Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 429

Chapter 429: Night Walkers (5)

Krrrrr—

A massive iron mace rose high and then crashed down with a thud.

As Dolores swung the mace, she reminisced about the past.

After the Abyss tree incident, she had doubts about her own power and had sought out Pope Nabokov I to ask for personal training.

Back then, Pope Nabokov I had said:

“A third-rate healer heals allies after they are injured.”

“A second-rate healer heals allies immediately when they are injured.”

“…But a first-rate healer…”

Pope Nabokov I’s teachings made Dolores who she is today.

“Eliminates potential dangers before allies can get hurt!”

Dolores’s mace fell like a lightning bolt.

And it flattened Pedro’s face.

…Crack!

With a horrifying sound, Pedro’s body was flung backward and crashed into the ground.

Bianca asked in a bewildered tone.

“How the heck do you carry that mace around?”

“Well, normally you wedge the handle between your back muscles and carry it with your strength, but since I don’t have the muscles and strength for that yet, I secretly strap it to my back with a cord! I cover the mace part with my skirt!”

Having finished her explanation, she raised the mace again and began eliminating her aura.

Thwack—

The mace fell once more on Pedro’s head, who lay dazed on the ground.

“Aaah!?”

Pedro finally realized what was happening.

The impact was so severe his eyes seemed like they would pop out—no, they actually did.

His vision darkened, unclear whether from the divine power exposure or the sheer physical pain.

“W-what is the damn cavalry doing!?”

Pedro called for help, but the invincible cavalry couldn’t get close.

Sinclaire’s golden wall, Bianca’s falling arrows, and Dolores’s divine shield were preventing the cavalry from advancing.

Moreover, with Pedro’s mental magic weakened, some of the knights in the cavalry were breaking free from his control one by one.

Pedro ground his teeth.

It was a mistake to try to capture Tudor and Bianca greedily.

Choosing this steep mountainous terrain for the battlefield was a bad idea for using cavalry in the first place.

“If we just catch this guy, we might manage somehow?”

Tudor’s quick judgment came into play.

While the mercenaries hired by Cindiwendy and reinforcements from various families were blocking the cavalry, Dolores, Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, Bianca, and Sinclaire focused their attacks on Pedro alone.

“You insolent brats dare!”

Pedro resisted, releasing the highest level of aura and dark energy.

As Pedro began to transform into something demonic.

Majinification. His body turned into a majin or a minor demon.

…Flash!

Dolores’s even more powerful divine shield pressed down on Pedro’s entire body.

Above that, Sinclaire summoned countless golden hands to crush the demon’s body.

Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, and Bianca each gave their all, severing Pedro’s limbs.

[Aaaaaaargh!]

Pedro couldn’t do anything but shout.

Pedro finally fell silent after Dolores imbued twenty-four stakes with holy power and pierced his body.

With his capture, the invincible cavalry of the Donquixote Clan also came to a halt.

They awoke from their daze and slowly began to realize the situation.

“Where are we?”

“Gasp! Why am I here?”

“T-Tudor, young master!?”

Tudor silently observed the knights of his Clan as they gradually regained their senses.

The members of the invincible cavalry present here were a small fraction; most were deployed far away in the civil war zones.

“The proud knights of Donquixote, brainwashed by a mere demon and dying in vain. What a tragedy.”

Tudor’s hateful gaze turned to Pedro, who was groaning on the ground.

“You should have died when you sent my friend to prison. Now accept the death you’ve been spared until now.”

[W-Wait! Spare me! Please, spare my life! I’ll do anything! I’ll tell you everything, just don’t kill me…]

Pedro had experienced a similar situation in the past when he transported Vikir to Nouvellebag.

Everyone except Tudor decided to interrogate Pedro a bit more.

Tudor, who had insisted on executing Pedro, eventually agreed with the group’s decision.

“From now on, you’ll tell us everything you know, honestly and completely. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee your life.”

[Hiiik-]

“But if you answer truthfully, I’ll spare your life. I swear on the honor of the Donquixote Clan.”

Behind Tudor, speaking calmly, the knights of the Donquixote Clan who had been brainwashed were glaring at Pedro with burning anger.

Despite his pain, Pedro answered their questions diligently.

As a result, the Night Walkers learned a great deal.

They discovered that their target was named Chimera, and that Chimera had the power to make humans reckless and brave. This was a significant finding.

They also learned that most of the invincible cavalry of the Donquixote Clan had been dispatched to conflict zones, the invincible fleet was anchored far away due to low sea levels from a drought, and that Chimera, disguised as Monte, prioritized capturing Tudor above all else.

“Why do they want to capture Tudor and me? If the goal is to eliminate opponents, they could just take our heads. Wouldn’t that be easier?”

[I-I don’t know! Really, they didn’t tell me!]

In response to Bianca’s question, Pedro shook his head, claiming ignorance.

At that moment, Tudor asked.

“What about my father? Is he safe?”

[…….]

Pedro was silent for a moment before speaking in a hesitant tone.

[O-Of course he’s safe. Though his health isn’t great…]

“Is it true!? Is my father really safe?”

[I-I may be a demon now, but I was once a knight of the Donquixote Clan. I don’t lie!]

“Thank you, God, for protecting my father…”

Tudor closed his eyes and offered a prayer of thanks.

Pedro, sensing the moment, spoke up.

[I’ve told you everything I know. Please, Let me go now. I have no strength left to resist. Surely, you wouldn’t break a promise you made on the honor of a Donquixote knight?]

At that moment, Tudor’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes. I promised on my honor. As a knight of the Donquixote Clan.”

[Yes. There is nothing more honorable and sacred than the chivalry of Donquixote. I don’t even deserve to utter such words…]

Pedro spoke in a self-deprecating tone, filled with gloom.

However, Tudor shook his head.

“You’re right. You have no right to speak of the honor of the Donquixote Clan. But neither do I.”

[……?]

Pedro looked up, puzzled.

Tudor slowly raised a broken spearhead in front of him.

“My name is just Tudor.”

The spearhead gleamed coldly.

“I have no damn surname.”

It came down directly on Pedro’s neck.

Pedro didn’t have time to utter a word before his head was severed.

Dark blood splattered across the ground.

Tudor continued in a low voice.

“Therefore, the honor of Donquixote means nothing to me.”

Deep inside the fortress of Tochka, in the meeting room of the Night Walkers.

“Let’s march back.”

Tudor spoke.

Just like the ancient strategy of a general who usurped the throne by returning his army, they planned to march back and enter the territory of Donquixote without bloodshed, then infiltrate the castle and assassinate Monte.

Everyone nodded in agreement, recognizing it as a good strategy.

Even the usually skeptical and meticulous Cindiwendy agreed this time.

“Donquixote’s cavalry had been blocking our supply lines, it caused significant disruptions. If we don’t reclaim the Donquixote territory, we won’t be able to secure food and water for the refugees. That would jeopardize Vikir’s plan.”

Moreover, now that they knew the Night Walkers were gathered at the Tochka fortress, they needed to act quickly.

A preemptive strike was the best course of action.

Tudor seemed energized at the thought of rescuing his father and reclaiming his Clan’s estate.

Dolores addressed everyone.

“Only Sinclaire and I have directly experienced the power of the Ten Corpses.”

Dolores had faced Dantalion, Belial, and Amdusias, while Sinclaire had faced Belial.

The power of the Ten Corpses, as described by Dolores and Sinclaire, was incomparable to the likes of Pedro.

“And now, much time has passed, so they’ve likely grown even stronger. We need to be thoroughly prepared.”

Even the invincible Vikir took every precaution and risked his life when confronting the Ten Corpses.

The thought of finally confronting the true culprits steeled everyone’s resolve.

“I am well-versed in the deployment of forces and the terrain within the estate.”

Tudor sketched a map of the Clan’s estate, indicating the locations of traps and secret passageways, briefing everyone in detail.

At that moment, Figgy mumbled quietly.

“…It would be so reassuring if Vikir were here.”

Everyone’s attention turned to Figgy.

Figgy waved his hands in embarrassment.

“Oh! Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound weak…”

Dolores smiled warmly and placed a hand on Figgy’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Figgy. We all feel the same way.”

“That, even so… I’m sorry. I feel like I threw cold water on everything.”

Figgy’s voice trailed off as he bowed his head.

Tudor, too, offered words of comfort to Figgy.

“I sometimes think the same thing. How wonderful it would be if he could miraculously appear before us. But the fact is, he’s stuck in Nouvellebag and can’t be here.”

“…That’s true.”

“What we need to do now isn’t to dream idly about him being with us. We need to accomplish the tasks he entrusted to us, and eventually, rescue him from Nouvellebag.”

Tudor’s words resonated with everyone.

“Vikir is surely alive. And one day, we will meet him again. Before that happens, we need to achieve results we can proudly show him.”

Dolores also agreed with Tudor’s sentiments.

“We need to grow as well. Vikir shouldn’t have to bear everything alone. We need to show him that he can rely on us more.”

Sancho, Bianca, and Sinclaire silently nodded in agreement. Though they did not speak, they shared the same resolve.

Only Cindiwendy was quietly fingering a letter under the table, a letter she had recently received containing an official announcement from Nouvellebag.

[Night Hound ‘Vikir van Baskerville’] [Deceased]

The report from Nouvellebag stated that Night Hound had died while attempting to escape.

‘There’s no need to share this information.’

Cindiwendy crumpled the letter with a small sigh.

To the Night Walkers, Vikir was a figure of faith. Shattering that belief was not an option.

‘…I wish a miracle would happen.’

Even Cindiwendy, who never believed in luck or miracles, found herself hoping for one. Everyone was fervently awaiting Vikir’s return, hoping against hope for his miraculous reappearance.