The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 435: Dreaming the Impossible Dream (1)

Crackle-!

The sudden crack in the air was enough to scare Passamonte.

"What's this!?"

What happens inside the Hell Tree is unknown to anyone but its master, Amdusias himself.

Passamonte was horrified to see the blazing portal and the sword protruding from it.

Suddenly, a thick fog formed in front of his eyes, and he began to hear and see strange things.

'...He's a good person.'

A voice as weak and unsteady as the last breath of a dying animal, unknown in source and identity.

Passamonte's ears flicked back, and a strange vision began to form before his eyes.

Swamps of blood and flesh, mountains of bones, an atmosphere drained of all mana, and giant mushroom clouds rising over the distant horizon.

...And an endless, barren desert.

...A massive tower stands tall in the middle of the desert.

...An old man in black walking lonely and alone toward the Tower.

Each vision pierces his mind in fragmented pieces.

"What, these are Amdusias's memories, what did that bastard see before he died?"

Passamonte rubbed his temples as if he was dumbfounded.

An undiscovered substance that twisted the laws of causality. Something with the power to close spaces opened by demons.

It probably has something to do with that sword that's creating the cracks before his eyes.

... Then, it tore open the gate to the Hell Tree, revealing Vikir within.

Passamonte asked in disbelief.

"What did you tear open the Hell Tree with? It doesn't seem to be the sword's inherent power."

"Blood."

"Whose?"

Passamonte repeated his puzzlement at Vikir's short answer.

But he was under no obligation to answer the question.

Vikir drew his blade out at length.

"Find out for yourself."

At the same time, the fastest and most efficient swordsmanship, the 4th Baskerville Form, unfolded.

Passamonte grunted and jumped to his feet as Vikir's killing blow stretched out as naturally as breathing.

...kwakwang!

The stone pillar shattered into pieces, raising a cloud of dust.

Behind Vikir stood Dolores, Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, Bianca, and Sinclair, all of whom also wore grim expressions.

And as the dust cleared, the true enemy hiding in the Don Quixote family appeared before them.

Black armor, black skin underneath, and an all-encompassing blackness that obscured his eyes and nose, but revealed his white, sharp teeth.

He held a large spear in his hand, and his lower body was fused with the body of a black horse, with only the horse's head remaining as a skeleton.

With a searing aura covering his entire body like a mane, the black knight was no longer named Don Quixote La Mancha Passamonte.

<Cimeries the 4th Corpse>

Danger Rating : S+

Size: ?

Found in: 'Serpent's Womb', deep within the Gate of Destruction

-Also known as '4th Corpse'.

One of the Ten Plagues, natural enemies of mankind, incomprehensible and unkillable.

"A swarm of reckless frogs shall arise."

– The Ten Commandments 10: Top –

'Reckless Knight' Cimeries.

It was the appearance of the sixth mastermind of the Age of Destruction.

Vikir gave a brief warning to his comrades behind him.

"His breath will give you an unfounded sense of confidence and exaltation that will cloud your judgment. Avoid breathing as much as possible in close combat."

Like a frog that puffs up its belly to match its size with a bull, only to have its skin burst and die, Cimeries has a strange ability to make its enemies reckless.

Combine this with the power of Dantalian and Belial, both skilled in military strategy and tactics, and the results can be devastating.

It's one of the main reasons the Alliance has lost so many battles in a row.

Even before Vikir's regression, Don Quixote's Invincible Cavalry, brainwashed by Cimeries, charged the windmill with their horses, only to be annihilated in vain.

'We must get rid of him now, before the cataclysm. And Don Quixote must be restored.'

Vikir took a step forward, his resolve unwavering.

"Vikir, I'll support you!"

Dolores stood beside him and offered her support.

Their souls, now in perfect resonance with each other, generated a great amplitude and manifested it in the form of an aura.

kwakwakwang!

Vikir's sword and Cimeries's spear clashed.

The result was a whistle.

Neither Vikir nor Cimeries took a step back from each other as they continued with the next move.

kwaang! kkang- ujijijijig!

The black storm created as the spear rotates twists and turns to take the shape of a huge snake.

The tooth-shaped traces created by the sword gathered in one place and became the shape of a large sphere.

Like a snake with its jaws open, about to swallow the sun.

In the midst of the fierce battle, Vikir and Cimeries continue to clash, with their bodies supporting the pressure that threatens to burst.

Boom-!

Once the spear was extended, a hole was created in the several-layered castle wall.

...Boom!

With a single swing of the sword, everything behind him was sliced away, revealing a clear view of the outside of the castle.

[Incredible. How could a human possess such power...]

While Cimeries was muttering in disbelief, Vikir was also having thoughts of his own.

'The power of Cimeries is much the same as it was before the regression. The demons have gotten impatient and are building up their power in a hurry, and it will be dangerous if I take any more time.'

It's not just the Fourth, it's the Third, the Second, and the First.

Vikir decided to hurry things up a bit more.

"Let's do it."

Normally, he would have handled whatever was going on on his own, but... this was different.

Dolores, Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, Bianca, and Sinclair's faces lit up at Vikir's request for help.

"Let me help!"

"Trust me, my friend!"

"I've been training hard, and I'm more than capable of holding my own!"

"Take my blood!"

"Just look at the gap, boys!"

"Brother, fight from a little distance, I'll cover you with magic!"

Dolores's holy shield, Tudor's spear, Sancho's axe, Piggy's sword, Bianca's arrow, and Sinclair's magic formed a colorful aura and flew out to intercept Cimeries.

[Keughh! These annoying things...!?]

Cimeries spun his spear around and launched a blow toward the back.

[Long time no see, Cimeries].

The red-hot inverted pentagram created by Decarabia was blocking Cimeries' blow.

Before Cimmeries could even shout something.

...puug!

Night Hound sank its teeth into the nape of its prey's neck.

The teeth, now much larger and sharper due to the saintess's blessing, sank into the demon's flesh with ease.

[Keughhhh!]

Bubbling froth began to rise from Cimeries's mouth.

ppudeudeug!

Cimeries stepped back, risking the flesh of his neck being ripped off in chunks.

Then, out of the horse's chest cavity, Pasamonte's face emerged.

He began to open his mouth, dripping with tears.

[Yes. I will admit that you guys are annoying enemies.]

He spoke with a hint of reserve, which was to be expected.

This was the lair that Cimeries had spent so much time working on.

It is he who now holds the reins of power in Don Quixote.

[Then I will respond with all my might].

With that, Cimeries pulled out a blue whistle and placed it in Pasamonte's mouth.

Tudor was the first to recognize what it was.

"That's the horn of the Invincible Cavalry!"

Cimeries had already summoned the cavalry, which was already out on the field of battle, back to the main house.

And soon, the results began to show.

Ttuuuuu-

A whistle sounded, and the floor began to vibrate slightly.

Dudeudeudeudeudeudeu...

Tiny pieces of stone bounced and danced across the floor.

Dolores and Sinclair's faces hardened.

"This sound is...."

"It's the sound of horses running!"

The sound of countless horses galloping from far away.

Don Quixote, who heard the summons order from the head of the family, was returning with the strongest power of the Invincible Cavalry!

The two pillars that symbolize Don Quixote, the 'Invincible Cavalry' and the 'Invincible Armada'. And those who were now gathering were the full force of the Invincible Cavalry.

Tudor shouted.

"Vikir, Don Quixote's Invincible Cavalry is as powerful as the Seven Counts of Baskerville, and if they join the battle, we have no chance of winning!"

It was fortunate that the sea level had dropped too low for the Invincible Armada to reach these shores.

If it had been accompanied by a fleet bombardment, there would have been no answer.

Vikir parried a flying spear and opened his mouth.

"The Invincible Cavalry, I know their power."

Even they would have been rendered reckless by the power of Cimeries.

No matter how strong Vikir was, he would be no match for all the knights of the Invincible Cavalry who would blindly charge at him.

... However.

In the face of all these odds, Vikir remained calm.

"But there is no need to worry. I have a plan for the Invincible Cavalry."

Suddenly, beyond the tattered wall, the form of the Invincible Cavalry came into view.

Don Quixote's Invincible Cavalry, charging over the long horizon, was indeed overwhelming from afar.

...However.

kung!

A strange thing began to happen.

One of the knights who was running furiously at the forefront fell from his horse and rolled on the ground.

The horse tripped on something and fell.

kwakwakwang! ujijijig!

The same thing began to happen one after another.

The cavalry, which had been charging at a terrifying pace, was thrown to the ground along with their horses.

It was caused by a hook sprouting from the ground.

The ground was littered with tiny traps, just the right size to catch a foot in, that looked like tiny iron skewers bent into arches.

The Invincible Cavalry can't keep up with the speed of the rush, and they get caught in these traps.

Charging speeds diminished in an instant. Collapsing displays.

[No, what the hell is going on!?]

Cimeries' mouth drops open as he watches the Invincible Cavalry struggling, unable to even make it to the shoreline, let alone the main castle.

The situation was so ridiculous that even the demons were stunned.

And at the same time.

Flutter.

A long, reddish streamer of blood fluttered from the roof of the opposite spire.

"Hey, boyfriend, over here!"

All eyes turned to the top of the spire at the sound of a cheerful voice.

The owner of a trap for hunting only cavalry, who stuck countless skewers into the ground and bent them so that they were not visible to the eye.

A woman standing bravely with an expression that reveals the wait, confidence, and reward of the past four years.

Morg Camus stood there.

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