The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 99: Madame Eight Legs (6)
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Chapter 99: Madame Eight Legs (6)

<Binge Fly 'Beelzebub'> / Awl

-1 slot: Burn – Cerberus(A+)

Slot -2: Silent Hill – Mushu Hushu(A+)

Slot -3: Super Regeneration – Bog Salamander(A+)

The third orb of the magic sword Beelzebub spat out red light.

The spirit of a bog salamander raged within the orb.

The destructive energy soon turned into wraith energy, coursing through the veins of Vikir's body.

The skill 'Super Regeneration' has been cast.

Tsutsutsutsuts...

His body was regenerating at an incredible rate, with black steam billowing from every muscle fiber.

New legs sprouted from severed limbs, intestines regenerated, bones fused together, and gaping wounds healed themselves.

Salamanders are some of the most regenerative creatures in the water, able to regenerate their arms down to the tips of their fingers even if they've been cut off at the shoulders.

Of course, regeneration on such a large scale is very draining, but it's far better than spending your life crippled.

Of course, only in battle.

Within seconds of being reduced to a ragged mass on the ground, Vikir had perfectly reconstituted his body.

[Zaak?]

Madame raised her forelegs and scratched the top of her head in confusion.

Vikir cautiously backed away.

'...If I'd gone in for a follow-up blow, I'd have been killed instantly.'

He had trusted his instincts and retreated when the first attack had been successful.

If I had ignored the warnings of my instincts and moved forward just a little bit, just a little bit deeper for the next attack, I would have been crushed to death, and even the most regenerative of salamanders wouldn't be able to do much about that.

At least I'd still have a body to regenerate.

Meanwhile.

[Hmm?]

Madame was fidgeting, as if something had disturbed her earlier.

It was the burning smell that wafted past her nostrils.

The smell of fire, which spiders hate so much, was coming from nowhere.

Then Madame realized where the smell was coming from.

It was coming from her own ass.

...Crunch! ...Crunch!

The mucous sac on her ass where Vikir's blow had struck earlier.

The mucus sac, which normally sheds webs, was now wounded and burning.

What was burning in that wound was definitely the dark flames of the oil system!

"How does hellfire taste?"

Vikir asked as he flew to the left.

Earlier, when he had slashed at the spider's body, Vikir had activated one more skill in addition to releasing his aura.

It was the Burn skill he'd gotten from capturing Cerberus.

Enemies slashed or impaled by the blade of the magic sword Beelzebub would suffer fatal burns.

The infernal flames of Cerberus' wraith's remains would continue to scorch opponents.

[Jaaaaah!]

Madame angrily rubbed her rump against the ground.

But even so, the flames were not extinguished, and they burned more intensely.

The mucus leaking from Madame's mucous sacs continues to draw in the flames, just as the flames are drawn in by the holes in the oil barrel.

Once touched, it burns forever. That's the curse of Cerberus the Hellhound.

In the end, Madame admitted it. What a nuisance these infernal flames that Cerberus has brought with him are.

Chhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Madame held her breath and expanded the hole in her ass, spilling the vast amount of mucus that had been contained inside onto the floor.

Huge amounts of white liquid gurgled out.

Vikir stretched back to avoid them.

Suddenly, the flames that had been burning Madame's mucus sacs were all out of her ass.

She had expelled a great deal of mucus at once.

[Gag! Gag!]

Madame turned around, her legs shaking in frustration.

Then she turned to me.

"...?"

She did something that would have made Vikir shake his head.

She stuck her leg into the burrow, swirled it around, and pulled out a small, round sphere.

It was an egg.

Vikir suddenly understood why Madame was so hungry all the time.

Madame was pregnant, and she was carrying many eggs inside her.

However, with the current intruder draining her stamina to the max, there is only so much food she can eat.

[Ajak-ahjak-kwadeudeuk-]

Madame gobbled up her eggs, concentrated nourishment, without hesitation.

"What a heartless mother."

Without another word, Vikir raised his bow.

Boom!

An arrow flew out and headed for Madame.

The arrow cut through the air sharply and lodged in her third eye from the left.

Crack!

The eyeball exploded like a raw egg.

Along with the aura that spun at high speed on the surface of the arrowhead, the flames of the oil system were transferred.

[Gaaaahhhh!]

Madame stretched out her legs in fury, but what awaited her at the end of the trajectory was a sword strike wielded by Vikir.

Denggeng-.

Again, there was a crack as if the night sky was being split in two.

This time, Madame's right front leg was severed and she sprawled across the floor.

...Thud!

Vikir stepped back, dodging the poisonous blood that sprayed in all directions.

[Giggle-]

Despite losing her front legs, Madame was not at all agitated.

She simply retrieved another egg from her burrow, ate it, and regenerated two new legs from the severed limb.

Poof! Poof!

Madame now had ten legs.

She could no longer attack with her severed legs, as they would always grow back into two.

Vikir remained silent, watching Madame's every move.

Finally.

Vikir nodded.

"I see. Cut one, make two, right?"

And with that, Beelzebub bared his six gnarled teeth, poking out of Vikir's arteries.

"Let's see how far it goes, then."

A black aura exploded madly from Vikir's entire body.

Baskerville Sixth Form.

The blood aura at the tip of the magic sword burned as brightly as the sun as it descended toward Madame's legs once more.

The pointed tip, like the teeth of a carnivorous animal, cut six trajectories in quick succession.

Dengeng- deng- deng-.

The two newly grown legs were sliced off again, and Madame regenerated them as if it were hopeless.

Poof! Woody, woody, woody!

Four legs sprouted from where two legs had been severed.

Vikir let out another long stream of aura.

The sensation of all the blood in his body being transformed into aura, a dazzling realm of martial power!

Feeling as if every vein in his body was on fire, Vikir shot forward.

The aura blade flashed out again.

The high-speed rotating aura of the Graduator sliced through Madame's rigid exoskeleton.

Two new legs sprouted from the severed limbs.

Vikir continued to burn the mana in his body to produce the aura, and each time he did, Madame grew more and more leggy.

[Jaaaaaah!]

Madame used her many legs to oviposit all over Vikir's body.

...Puff-puff-puff-puck!

Despite the mind-numbing pain, Vikir's eyes remained focused.

He stood and endured the terrible agony like a seasoned hound from the Age of Destruction.

The regenerative powers of the bog salamander once again heal Vikir's body.

But it could not do anything about the terrible poison that had infiltrated his body.

The terrible poison dissolves into his blood, churning through his entire body.

The Graduator's aura scorches his veins, but it's clear he won't last long.

Vikir lifted his blurred vision and glared at the Madame before him.

The mockery on the Madame's face was only getting worse.

[Kiririk- Jah!]

Madame raised her two forelegs in unison, as if to crush the staggering Vikir in one fell swoop.

It was quite a leisurely movement.

... but?

Stagger.

For a moment, Madame stumbled too.

Not enough strength? No. Madame still had plenty of energy left.

But why is her balance off?

Suddenly, Madame realized.

There were too many new legs sprouting from her forelegs.

She had just released all the mucus in her gut from the annoying burning of Cerberus' flames, so she was now lighter.

Add to that the weight of his many overgrown legs, and he's off-balance for a moment.

Vikir did not miss the brief moment when Madame flinched at the unexpected shift in her center of gravity.

"...!"

Vikir launched himself with a sharp cry.

The poison made his mind foggy.

He knew by instinct that this was his last chance.

Madame panicked and flailed to steady herself, but her two front legs were already too heavy and she couldn't help but fall to one side.

Furthermore, her three left eyeballs were so blinded by the distance that she couldn't see the trajectory of Vikir's leap.

Madame stretched out her middle leg to stop him, but her aim was off.

Vikir then stabbed Beelzebub into the spider's abdomen, which was now empty and missing its middle leg.

Ta-da!

As it turned out, Vikir's aura could not penetrate Madame's abdomen.

That's because beneath her lower abdominal sack was a solid breastplate, a shield that was strong enough to block even the aura of a Graduator.

Vikir's sword caught in a groove in Madame's breastplate.

In this aspect, Madame was lucky and Vikir was unlucky.

...However.

Vikir hadn't aimed to plunge his sword into Madame's chest in the first place.

"Yaaaaaah!"

With all his might, Vikir pushed at Beelzebub.

The needle of the awl against the hard breastplate pushed it back.

That's right. I can't pierce, but I can push.

Madame was off-center under the weight of her heavy forelegs and the empty weight of her mucus sac.

Vikir's superhuman strength eventually knocked Madame sideways.

And next to her was the ground, which was weakened by squishy flesh and decaying bone.

In this aspect, Madame was unlucky and Vikir was lucky.

[Jaaaaah!?]

Madame panicked and flailed her foot, but it was cut off by an additional aura blade from Vikir.

Vikir's skillful cut was precise, targeting only the weak joint at the end of the leg.

It was an almost instinctive slash, impossible with his blurred vision.

Soon enough, new legs stretched out, but it was too late.

Thud, thud, thud!

Madame slammed into the soft ground and rolled toward the base of the cliff.

For the first time in her life, Madame shudders at the unfamiliar sensation.

The color in her last remaining eyeball is clearly fear.

She tried to squeeze webs from the mucous sacs on her tail and cling to the rock face, but it was impossible now.

Cerberus' infernal fire had drained it all out earlier.

...Thud! ...Thud! ...Thud!

Madame bounced and rolled a few times off the top of the craggy peak before plunging straight down the cliff.

And it was the same for Vikir.

"...!"

Madame did not go alone as she fell to the cliff.

At the last moment, she stretched her overgrown legs as far as they would go and pulled her resentful foe who had pushed her down with her.

Soon, Vikir and Madame were falling straight from the top of the craggy peak toward the ground below.

And then, in one last desperate effort, Vikir pulled out his secret weapon.

...Puck!

Vikir struck Madame in the chest, sending her flying off to the side.

Beside him, he can see the struggling Madame falling toward the ground at a rapid pace.

Vikir's recoil puts him farther away from Madame, but he's still falling at a high pace.

"...."

Unlike Madame, however, who was screaming in terror, Vikir simply closed his eyes tightly and held his breath.

It wasn't fear of the shock of hitting the ground.

...It was preparation. Preparation to land.

And then.

I could see the ground. It was rapidly approaching.

But what greeted Madame and Vikir on the ground was clearly different.

Madame was simply falling toward the ground, but where Vikir was falling, there was a large object waiting for him.

It's a water balloon, inflated to bursting.

A cushion of something squishy stuffed inside tough leather.

It was the gassy, bloated carcass of a bog salamander.

This chapter is updat𝙚d by f(r)eewebn(o)vel.com

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