Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 97: Chapter 97: Depths of Danger

Quack, quack, quack...

An obscure quake overcast covers where the thunder left off.

It might have been daytime, yet with the thick foreboding shadows covering the sky, the heavy storm, and the wild eyed lightning, it seemed like evening.

Vikir pushed his way through the sharp leaves of the Sword Timberland.

He had been following Madame's trail since the previous evening.

It was widely known that assuming it down-poured during a chase, the pursuit would be abandoned. It's generally expected sense to forsake a chase when it downpours.

Be that as it may, even amidst this weighty downpour, the tracks of Madame's movements remained obvious.

Half-dissolved lumps of meat lay all over the place.

They had all the earmarks of being essential for what Madame had gobbled and retched, however Vikir didn't even try to analyze them to see what sort of meat they were.

All over the place, Madame's bodily fluid and defecation blew into the water, making a foul scent.

Thick hairs that felt like dark needles were dispersed all through the region, and the grass and trees around it were darkened and evaporated.

There's no great explanation we can't follow the path.

The Night Hound advanced, following the way of death demonstrated by the dead trees.

Vikir reviewed Madame's character again.

At the point when they initially met, she had covered herself totally in the darkness of the water.

So knowing the specific state of her body is unthinkable.

Indeed, even the fighters of Balak, who had languished under her oppression for so long, had no clue about what she resembled or even what sort of animal she was.

Just their tribal leader, Aquila, had the option to provide them with a brief look at her personality, in light of weak oral records.

"... Surely, it's difficult to determine what species we're managing in view of the tracks.

Hints of colliding with and smashing logs or shakes like land war beasts, flying across streams or high valleys like flying predators, hints of digging burrows like underground beasts... The natural qualities of all beasts are totally blended.

What's considerably more great is that it moved up a stone wall with a slant of in excess of 90 degrees.

A precipice so high that even birds can't climb it. Madame scrambled up it.

Vikir gazed upward toward the highest point of the precipice, concealed by mists.

It appears as though he'll need to climb this high to meet Madame.

"... Above all, I want to prepare."

Vikir gazed up at the precipice briefly, then, at that point, pivoted suddenly.

A speedy look around the bluffs uncovers that they're molded like confined mountains.

It stood out in contrast to everything else in the flatlands.

No doubt, Madame was settling in the higher ground.

Vikir made a speedy evaluation of her area and dismissed.

Assuming he battled now, he would lose, and he would scarcely make due, not to mention win.

Now that he knew where his rival was, things were looking up for him.

Vikir gradually created some distance from the cliffside.

Attempting to check how high this sheer precipice might actually be.

Vikir showed up at a damp region truly a separation from Madame's home.

The main thing Vikir did after arriving at the edge of the bog was to disperse the heap of straw he had been conveying every which way.

He had been perspiring bountifully as he cleared his path through the wilderness, and his aroma had splashed into the straw.

The breeze blew the straw, conveying his fragrance, all over the place.

Presently, because of the idea of convection that circles the bog, Vikir's scented straws will dissipate, wrapping the entire marsh.

They will be conveyed by the breeze further into the bog.

Also, it would be difficult to pinpoint Vikir's area, yet there would be space for Madame to feel encompassed.

...Who might have that impression?

"The expert of this bog."

Vikir raised his head and gazed into the focal point of the marsh.

Unexpectedly, a log drifting on a superficial level sank profound.

What's more, something tremendous started to slither out of the marsh through the thick water.

<Marsh Salamander>

Peril Rating: A+

Size: 9 meters

Viewed as in: Edge 8, Red and Dark Mountains

-Named 'Limitless Recovery Mythical beast'.

A monster land and water proficient like monster that lives somewhere down in the bogs.

It has solid regional impulses and a greedy craving, gobbling up all that enters its bog.

They are dreaded by people in view of their unkillable capacity to recover from any injuries.

It has managed this marsh for quite a while.

An old, monster lizard arose.

Its whole body is canvassed in smooth skin and tacky sludge.

In its mouth were the arms and legs of a few locals of obscure clan.

Vikir remembered him initially.

"That was Mushuhushu's adversary, I assume?

There was an extraordinary snake named Mushuhushu who had as of late succumbed to Lucifer.

That snake's adversary was this goliath directly before him.

The old lizard loosened up his body, becoming bigger and all the more impressive as he matured.

[humming ]

The old lizard's head turned to search for the gatecrasher in its region, yet it couldn't pinpoint a course.

That was on the grounds that Vikir had sent the straw he had been gathering into the breeze, and simultaneously spread mud all over himself to cover his aroma.

[grrrr... shhhhhhhhhhhhh!]

The lowland lizard clacked its tongue and kept on creeping across the marsh.

Vikir momentarily thought to be battling it, yet immediately excused the thought.

His catch of Mushuhushu recently was karma in numerous ways.

He had a lost his area to the floods and had been cleared away, so he had lost a ton of endurance, and to recharge it, he had eaten at a unique speed, leaving him drowsy.

The chase had been a generally simple one, as we'd trapped him while he was worn out, full, and sluggish, and Aiyen had made a difference.

However

, not presently.

The old lizard was reasonably ravenous and entirely awkward.

Moreover, isn't it a beast so solid that it's comparable to Mushuhushu?

If I somehow happened to battle him, I was unable to ensure 100 percent achievement.

Regardless of whether I could win reasonably, it was an exercise in futility to squander my endurance in a spot like this, taking into account the battle with Madame that would follow.

'But... there's something I can do with him.'

Vikir held on until the lizard was all the way out of the bog.

Also, there was something different he was going for the gold.

The straw he'd sent into the breeze before wasn't simply to conceal his area.

It was likewise to lure in "some perilous animal" that may be hiding just past the breeze's span.

"... It's nearly time to emerge.

Vikir thought as he painstakingly followed the lizard out of the bog and into the forest.

Then.

The reaction came.

As Vikir's fragrance floated across the wilderness on the breeze, the animals started to answer.

Minotaurs, monsters, savages, and other huge animals answered.

In any case, not a solitary one of them thought for even a second to enter the old lizard's domain. They could salivate at the external lines of the domain.

...But.

Small small!

Only one.

There was one animal that had no apprehension about the old bog lizard and burst into his region.

weeeeeeng!

A foreboding sound of fluttering wings.

It was an incredibly ghostly sound that made even the most impressive lizards wince.

Then, as the old lizard left the marsh and entered the woodland looking for Vikir, something tremendous showed up before him.

It resembled a foreboding shadow, exceptionally tall, extremely wide, and extremely huge.

It moved about, prolonged like a snake, and took off vertical.

Vikir knew about this abnormal, undefined animal.

<Bone-Sucking Mosquito>

Risk Rating (Individual): D

Peril Rating (Multitude): S

Size: 3 mm

Viewed as in: Red and Dark Mountains, Edge 9

-Nicknamed the 'bone-sucking mosquito'.

Not much is realized about it aside from that it sucks bone, not blood.

It was anything but a solitary monster, yet a multitude of numerous more modest ones.

Small small small!

Mosquitoes flew in swarms, sticking to everything around them.

Indeed, even the lizard, which had voyaged very much a separation from the bog.

Vikir checked out at the mosquitoes and thought.

"They are horrendous things."

These mosquitoes were more terrible than the ones individuals normally perceive.

Ordinary mosquitoes stick their long, straw-like proboscis into tissue and drink blood.

However, it wasn't human blood that these mosquitoes desired.

It was bones.

They jab their long, pointed noses into the assemblages of their prey and suck out the bones, significantly longer than the typical mosquito, and their casualties lose every one of the bones in their bodies.

Significantly seriously shocking that... these mosquitoes just suck on bones, abandoning skin, tissue, blood, and digestion tracts.

The old lizard then, at that point, continues to show us progressively what befalls the individuals who get found out by these feared mosquitoes.

[Shhhhhh!?]

The old lizard went ballistic.

He spurted bodily fluid all around his body to avoid the mosquitoes' assaults, and he attempted to transform and run once again into the bog.

However, the mosquitoes were much speedier to respond.

Drawn in by Vikir's aroma, these mosquitoes stick to the lizard's body, making it pass on and solidify its bodily fluid, while the late arrivals utilize the carcasses of their friends as tractions to sting.

Before long, the mosquitoes start to suck out the lizard's bones.

Wash, wash, wash.

The liquid from the mosquito's spit is precisely exact thing breaks up the lizard's bones and transforms them back into fluid.

The lizard makes a respectable attempt as it can to get once more into the marsh, however the fire spreads it a couple of meters from the water's edge.

It had lost every one of its issues that remains to be worked out its weight.

The mosquitoes kept on amassing the bog long after they'd eaten every one of the lizard's bones.

Whirr! Whirr! Whirr!

That is, until Bikir lit a fire and utilized the smoke to frighten off every one of the mosquitoes.

The mosquitoes vanished as fast as they had showed up.

Vikir at last rose up out of the bog.

He consumed a few wet leaves, for good measure, making a thick haze of smoke.

"...Smoke."

Vikir glanced around and gestured.

The bone-sucking mosquitoes were alarming.

Every mosquito was little and feeble, however the danger level of the entire multitude was a long ways past presence of mind.

Vikir turned his head to check the bog out.

The lizard had tumbled to the ground only two meters from the bog.

Shockingly, it was as yet alive.

The bones in his body were gone, and he was shuddering, however he was all the while breathing, because of his hard skin and life force.

Obviously, clearly its hopeless reality would be brief, as it was just a watery shell.

"...."

Vikir connected and contacted the lizard's body once.

Flesh overflowing from the extreme stow away, digestive organs drifting around.

Presently he was just a pack of blood.

"Good. All around made. That ought to be sufficient."

Vikir pulled on the as yet breathing lizard's tail.

As the mana of a Development Graduator went through his body, he had the option to pull the body of this enormous beast.

Additionally, the old lizard's body was lighter on the grounds that its bones were no more.

[Swoosh! Swoosh-]

The lizard made a strange commotion each time it was hauled, yet it could fail to address it.

The lungs and different organs in its body were presently totally turned around, so it lacked the ability to utter a sound.

Just thick tears dribbled from his eyes.

"Consider this your karma for eating such countless people."

Vikir's eyes are cold as he hauls the lizard, a goliath pack of blood and digestion tracts.

It had been a short readiness, a fairly lengthy one.

Now that everything was set up, there was just something single left to do.

To meet Madame, and to kill her.

Then, at that point, I will leave the wilderness, and Balak, with every one of the obligations of my heart.

A re-visitation of Baskerville, Ironblade.

It won't be a long one.

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