The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 104: Longing (4)

Madam Eight Legs has been missing for two months.

Bakira was now a father.

Five wolf pups nurse peacefully in their female wolf’s coat.

Meanwhile.

“…….”

Vikir observed the female wolf as she nursed her pups.

A black ball was trapped between the wriggling puppies.

Madam Eight Legs egg. It had the appearance of a large black pearl, but it was smooth and soft to the touch.

Vikir had been trying for two months to convince the wolves to keep the egg safe.

The wolves’ warmth and care, however, had made no difference to the egg.

The only difference is that the newborn puppies continue to nibble on the soft, fluffy egg and smear it with their saliva.

Vikir realized that any further experiments with Madam’s eggs were futile, and he prepared to resume his long journey.

Return to the Empire. And now we return to Baskerville.

It’s finally time.

It’s time for the Ironblooded Hound’s vengeance.

It was time for him to go back home.

When Vikir announced his departure from Ballak’s village, all of Ballak’s warriors sent envoys, Including ballak all the other tribes also sent envoys.

Aquila did not stop Vikir when he declared his intention to leave. He was not a slave, so why stop him?

Once you’re family, you’re always family, and even if you’re separated by great distances, your ties grow stronger, not weaker.

However, Aquila invited the envoys from each tribe who had gathered to bid Vikir farewell and held a grand banquet to decorate the celebration.

Everyone at the banquet loved and respected Vikir.

But no one said “see you” or “see you again” to him.

“There are no such words in the Ballak language.”

Aquila didn’t even say anything to Vikir about looking forward to their next meeting.

“See you again” does not exist in the Ballak language.

They believe that once a relationship is formed, it is unbreakable and transcends time and space.

They were together even when they were apart.

That’s why they don’t expect to say goodbye.

Aquila spoke to Vikir in a warm voice.

“‘Whenever and wherever you are. You are a Ballak hunter. And you are part of our family. Do not forget that.”

Vikir was silent for a moment.

For some reason, he felt tingling in the deepest parts of his chest.

For the first time, a feeling of belonging settled in Vikir’s heart that he hadn’t felt in any other place since his return.

It was almost as if leaving the mountains and returning to Baskerville was like leaving home and going to a strange place.

Aquila continued.

“You are a proud Ballak warrior, and a hero of the Mountain. If you are in trouble, we will help you to the best of our ability, no matter where you are or who you are up against.”

It wasn’t just the warriors of Ballak who responded to Aquila’s words.

All the native tribes of the Mountain, from the shamanic Rokoko to the berserker Renaissance, cheered on Aquila’s words and encouraged Vikir.

“Our hero, call us anytime, we’ll come to your aid!”

“Think of us sometimes! We love you!”

“Awesome, Vikir! Go back and take over the empire!”

“May the path of a hero be filled with only blessings……”

Most of all, the young men of Ballak, with whom I had cried, laughed, and slept for the past two years, were the most sad to see Vikir go.

Ahun was the worst of all. He was reduced to tears.

He thumped his chest like a gorilla and shouted.

“Vikir, you can come back anytime! We’ll be here waiting for you! And if you have any problems, you can always call us!”

“Brother Vikir. You have to write to me often, you have to, or else I’m going to…….”

Beside him, Ahul, who had grown much taller by now, looked at Vikir with a moist gaze.

She handed the departing Vikir a lunchbox wrapped in leaves, having grown so much in the past two years that she could hardly be considered 15 years old.

Inside was a skewer of creamy caterpillars, a precious food.

Vikir’s dry smile curved the corners of his mouth.

He couldn’t remember laughing much before or after his regression, but here in Mountains, he laughed a lot.

He had laughed more in four months here than he had in forty years in his previous life.

“Farewell, Vikir, our hero!”

Without a ‘see you later’, the warriors of Ballak wave to Vikir with a mixture of amusement and regret in their eyes.

And then.

Vikir left the Mountains he had been fond of in the midst of everyone’s farewell.

…….

……No.

Not all of them.

Vikir searched the crowd for a face, but never found it.

Aiyen.

For some reason, she hadn’t shown up in town since she’d heard Vikir say he was leaving town.

She didn’t even show up for Vikir’s farewell ceremony.

Everyone was puzzled because she usually followed Vikir wherever he went.

“……It can’t be right.”

Vikir stood outside the village, glanced back at the empty Aiyen barracks, and stood there for a few seconds.

Then he turned on his heel and walked away from his beloved Ballak village.

His steps in the direction of the border of the Mountains were weak for the first few steps, but then they began to pick up steam.

It’s really time to go back now.

* * *

* * *

Vikir soon left the edge of the Mountains.

Standing on a high rocky peak, he could see a familiar citadel ahead.

The Red Castle.

It was a mining fortress built by the mages of Morg, to mine the rubies of Red Awl Mountain.

Massive earthen walls, wooden fences, and stone buildings rose crudely but majestically.

It had apparently been hardened over the past two years to keep the natives at bay.

A land of endless veins of crimson ruby, with dark clouds gathering in swirls above.

The landscape still bathed in the ominous colors of red and black.

“……still mining rubies?”

Vikir walked slowly toward Morg’s citadel.

He was returning after two years.

Suddenly, he remembered the face of Camus Morg, the former head of the place. Was she still there?

If she had grown up well, she would be a mature woman now, seventeen years old and well within the marriageable age.

But that was the life of a ordinary noble families, But Camus born into the noble clan of Morg was quite different.

‘When are you going to start at the academy? I’ll probably be admitted a year or two ahead of schedule. It would be so much fun if we could all be first-year students together……’

Suddenly, I remembered how two years ago, she had followed me around and nagged me.

“Did I tell you that I was thinking of applying for early admission to the Academy?”

Two years ago, when she was 15, she had already said that she was thinking about early admission to the Academy, so maybe she was already there.

‘You must have forgotten about me.’

At 17, you’re a grown up.

An eight-year-old crush would be nothing more than a shy, fading memory.

Vikir smiled dryly and headed out into the wilderness. The wind blew through the cotton fields.

…… Just then.

“Hey, slave!”

A voice called out to Vikir from behind.

Turning his head, Vikir saw a silver-black-haired, pointy-eared woman, who just turned nineteen, staring at him.

Aiyen. She stood with her back to the cotton wind, her eyes red with tears.

“Are you really going?”

“…….”

“Really?”

Aiyen asked in a deep voice, and Vikir responded with silence.

Then Aiyen stepped in front of him.

” …… If you’re going to go, take this with you.”

Vikir’s eyes widened as he saw Aiyen reach out a trembling hand and give it to him.

“!”

It was a large bow. It was a black bow with a dark light all over it.

A giant bow that Adonai had used in the past.

There was even a bowstring that had never existed.

Vikir realized that the white, tough string on the black bow was made from the tanned silk of Madam Eight-Legged Spider’s web.

The same tough spring from which Madam had made and stored her webs had become the string, making the black bow a complete unit.

‘Anubis’, the strongest bow in Ballak’s history, has finally regained its perfect form.

“Sorry for not seeing you off, I was busy making this…”

Aiyen sayed to Vikir as she looked down at the Black Bow.

… Thud!

Aiyen puts something around Vikir’s neck.

A small black necklace.

It is a choker, an object made from the tough hide of an oxbear.

This oxbear was the first catch Aiyen and Vikir had made together.

Aiyen put the necklace around Vikir’s neck and spoke in his native voice.

” …… Don’t ever let go of this thing. Never”

“Understood.”

Vikir nodded, then looked down at Aiyen.

Aiyen looked back up at Vikir.

“…….”

“…….”

Their positions have changed a lot in the past two years.

When they first met, Aiyen looked down on Vikir and gave him orders.

Now, it’s Aiyen who can barely make eye contact with Vikir.

She was a head taller than him then, but now she’s a head shorter.

Vikir, who had grown much taller, turned to Aiyen and said.

“You’ve gotten a lot shorter.”

It was her own joke, her own code for breaking the ice.

But Aiyen didn’t respond to such lame jokes.

Just.

Mmm.

She walks in with a swift stride.

Pow!

A fist lands on Vikir’s stomach.

Vikir, who was hit in the stomach out of nowhere, swallows a groan and bends over.

… Thud!

Aiyen immediately grabs the choker around Vikir’s neck.

The next thing you know, Vikir is being dragged forward by the leash in Aiyen’s grasp.

And then.

“……!”

The moment when Vikir, bent at the waist, and Aiyen, choker in hand, are exactly the same height.

Their lips met at the exact same height and pressed together.

…….

A second, felt like an eternity.

How much time had passed.

Aiyen pushed hard against Vikir’s chest.

She turned her back to Vikir, who had stopped breathing.

“…… see you again, I’ll miss you.”

She said in imperfect empire language.