The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 397: Dead Man Walking (2)

As Vikir recalled prisoner’s words from when he first entered Nouvellebag,

“What’s this? How is this admission? This is nothing but a death sentence! It’s practically an execution!”

Garam nonchalantly replied to the panicked prisoner’s words, “That can’t be. ‘Nouvellebag’s execution’ is something else entirely, far more dreadful than this.”

It was then that Vikir understood why Garam had said such things.

In the depths of the abyss appeared a mouth. That immense maw twisted the empty space, revealing other overlapping spaces within it. Squares, triangles, circles… deformed figures of irregular shapes crowded haphazardly inside the gaping maw. The swollen eyes, reminiscent of drowned corpses, reacted to the ‘prey’ descending from above.

Vikir pondered, “The most mysterious among the Five pillars of Nouvellebag is undoubtedly ‘Lieutenant Colonel Flubber.'”

His identity is speculated to be that of an unknown species. Nothing is known about which kingdom, phylum, or class this bizarre creature belongs to. “I don’t even understand why it’s called a species. It bears no resemblance to humans whatsoever.”

Age unknown. Gender unknown. Race unknown. Origin and destination equally enigmatic. Even the rank of Lieutenant Colonel is merely a societal title arbitrarily bestowed upon this creature by humans. Long before humans first discovered Nouvellebag, it was inhabited by this ancient indigenous organism.

No matter how far back one delves into Nouvellebag’s oldest records, there is only mention that “Lieutenant Colonel Flubber” has always existed.

‘Anyway… Is this creature responsible for Nouvellebag’s security along with Bdissem?’ Vikir thought, observing the gigantic and grotesque being gaping beneath the abyss.

Bdissem, restraining the mana and power of the prisoners. Flubber, enveloping the entire fortress in mucus to prevent flooding. These two are the twin pillars upholding Nouvellebag’s existence.

Then, Lieutenant Colonel Flubber began making strange noises. A long, thick tongue protruded from the fissure of the abyss. The viscous mucus called ‘Flubber’ overflowed from beneath the tongue’s root, streaming profusely.

It was the foam-like membrane covering Nouvellebag’s doors and windows. And into that gaping maw, bodies began to drop with a sickening thud.

“Oh shit–”

Only then did they realize. The first wave of admissions to Nouvellebag, those who had fallen from the Blade Bridge, where had they gone? Despite being recorded as surviving on paper, what fate had truly befallen them?

With a splash, they plunged into the abyss.

Lieutenant Colonel Flubber’s body was composed of a dark substance mixed with a deep green. Sticky and heavy, akin to molten lead but not as hot, it oozed relentlessly. This sticky mass expanded indefinitely, with no discernible boundaries.

It resembled something straight out of ancient legends, like the world tree and giants’ sagas, as if gargantuan phlegm were lodged in the throat of a colossal giant.

And this dreadful abyss of viscous slime, engulfed in darkness, unleashed a chilling, terrifying scream.

“Kiyaaaaaaaah!” It was a spine-chilling scream that instantly filled the entire empty hall with terror, even causing seasoned mid-level captains of Nouvellebag to cover their ears and bite their lips in fear.

But only one person remained unaffected.

Vikir stood stoically at the edge of the precipice, unmoving, calmly gazing downward.

Suddenly, amidst the melting of his entire body, Sakkuth lifted his head. And above the abyss, his gaze met Vikir’s, who was observing from the cliff’s edge.

“You! You!”

Sakkuth finally realized he had been deceived. Everything was a lie. There was no rescue, no escape from the beginning. There couldn’t possibly be a mailman underwater, searching in the depths of this abyss 10,000 meters below.

This was Nouvellebag. A place devoid of dreams, hope, future, or anything else.

“Grrrrr! Bieeeeeeeegh!”

With his mouth now buried, Sakkuth cursed with all his heart at the figure before him. The swirling vortex of malevolence injected a completely new kind of vigor into this villain, one he himself couldn’t recognize.

…But it was already too late. Evil, life, revenge—all had meaning only when one was alive. Sakkuth, now just a slightly fresher piece of meat wriggling in Lieutenant Colonel Flubber’s mouth, was nothing more than that.

Slurp—

The quivering folds consumed Sakkuth’s flesh bit by bit. Dragged beneath the abyss of inky darkness, Sakkuth, the plague leper, vanished. The last sight he saw in this world was Vikir’s impassive face before the light.

…Suddenly, his lips moved. And with the preternatural perceptiveness and focus that only a dying man could muster, Sakkuth deciphered the faint trail traced by Vikir’s lips.

“You should know whether you’re a predator or a prey, and live fucking accordingly..”

It was exactly as he had heard during their first encounter.

“….! ….! ….! ….!”

Sakkuth shouted, pouring out all his strength, containing a truth and earnestness he had never expressed before, even during his entire existence. Perhaps it was the anger or malice of a single human, an unimaginably cruel and wicked curse, or maybe it was a genuine and pure intention of repentance or atonement that would resonate deep within the hearts of all who witnessed it.

…But his intentions were never conveyed to the world.

Gurgle…

With a sound akin to the laughter he often emitted, Sakkuth disappeared into the depths of the black abyss.

Whether he was granted the repose commonly heard by the departed, “Rest in peace,” remains unknown.

All that is certain is that he will never escape from that abyss.

…For eternity.

* * *

A chilling silence swept through the wardens. Even the bold and courageous Kirko was sweating profusely.

“…Lieutenant Colonel Flubber’s executions are always terrifying,” she muttered.

Vikir, returning after pushing Sakkuth off the cliff, quietly nodded in response to her words.

“Lieutenant Colonel Flubber. He may seem devoid of intellect, but we can’t predict what role he’ll play during an escape,” Vikir thought.

Lieutenant Colonel Flubber, a monstrous being stretching his body across Nouvellebag, responsible for maintenance and upkeep throughout the fortress. Unofficially considered one of Nouvellebag’s strongest forces. Vikir began to contemplate how much he should be wary of this creature, and how much he should ignore.

It was the first time since entering Nouvellebag that he had encountered such an unpredictable variable.

…At that moment.

“Kirko.”

A voice called out to Kirko. Turning her head, she saw Bastille standing with an air of solemnity. Behind him were his subordinates, dressed in full regalia.

“You called for me, Head Captain.”

Kirko replied with a bow, and Bastille soon broke into a satisfied smile.

“Yes. Finally, one troublesome prisoner has vanished.”

Bastille, relentless in his pursuit of promotion and advancement, always kept a wary eye on prisoner revolts. They could have a catastrophic impact on his record. Consequently, Sakkuth, who had caused the most disturbances and was emotionally unstable, had recently become Bastille’s biggest thorn.

“To be honest, executing prisoners is no easy task. Once the execution is decided, the prisoners constantly resist, incite riots, and even plan escapes or terrorist acts. Not to mention the trauma endured by the executing wardens.”

“It’s fortunate this incident ended without incident.”

“It is indeed fortunate. A Level 8 prisoner accepting execution without any incidents is quite remarkable. And it seems the warden who executed him doesn’t show any signs of lingering trauma… or does he?”

“That’s correct.”

Vikir’s response brought an even wider smile to Bastille’s lips.

“The charisma, skill, and frightening execution that keep even Level 8 prisoners obedient until the moment of execution, the courage and boldness to face it alone without a hint of hesitation… All of this is truly your accomplishment. The more I see, the more appetizing your talent becomes. It reminds me of my younger days.”

Vikir was growing impatient with the flattery, so to hasten the situation, he even performed a lip service he rarely did.

“I will follow you, Head captain, for life.”

Those words only made the smile on Bastille’s lips brighter.

Bastille, skilled in organizing lines and building factions, seemed to firmly recognize Vikir as his own man.

“Alright. I’m not like those incompetent rulers or generals who leave a stain on history. Loyal and capable subordinates deserve appropriate rewards.”

Vikir wore a puzzled expression as Bastille extended a black box towards him.

“I hope you’ll like it.”

“If it’s a gift from you, Head captain, it would be a great honor for me.”

“Hahaha, feel free to open it right here.”

Bastille seemed to relish the opportunity to showcase his generosity and status through this gift.

Eventually, all eyes, including Kirko’s standing nearby, focused on the center.

With a click, Vikir opened the box.

And inside…

“….!”

What was revealed inside caused everyone to widen their eyes in disbelief.