Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound - Chapter 368

Episode 368 Underground Expansion Construction (3)

…Puong!

Waves of rock fragments and lava spread in all directions, causing earthquakes and tsunamis.

All the prisoners and guards looked up at Bikir.

“I will not.”

Bikir expressed his dislike of doing it in short words, and it was a revolutionary statement that shook all the foundations of the New Wave.

The prisoner works, and the jailer supervises. Because this was the system that kept the New Wave alive.

…

For a moment, silence filled the whole world.

Bikir thought to himself.

‘Isn’t it time for the guards to whip you?’

According to the Nuvelvag manual Bikir knew, if a prisoner refused to serve, the jailer could take out a whip or club knife to punish the prisoners.

……but?

Things went a little differently than Bikir expected.

“Heo Eok!? A riot at Le Level Nine!”

“This is this, this is beyond our control!”

“Support! Ask for support!”

“Kyaaaaaaagh! Blow the horns!”

The guards screamed like girls, with the blood draining from their faces and turning them into A4 paper.

Soon, the most serious warning sound, the sound of a red hornet, resounded heavily throughout the workshop.

Woo woo woo! Woo woo woo! Woo woo woo! Woo woo woo!

As soon as they heard that tremendous roar, even the prisoners in the distance suddenly covered their eyes and ears with both hands, spread their mouths, fell flat on the floor and lifted their backs.

It seems to have happened often, seeing as the action to prepare for an unexpected huge shock wave is quite skillful.

“…”

Bikir finally shut his mouth, wanting to take a pity.

‘Come to think of it, I heard that all of the escaped comrades before returning were imprisoned at level 3 or 4.’

The treatment of a Level 3 or Level 4 prisoner causing a riot and a Level 9 prisoner causing a riot will obviously be different.

But I didn’t expect it to make such a big difference.

Bikir, who simply refused to work, was treated like a terrorist who came to blow up the New Wave.

…that’s it! …that’s it! …that’s it! …that’s it!

The sound of military boots rang loudly, breaking the atmosphere of the coldly frozen workshop.

Young-gwan-level guards.

Dozens of bloody-looking rice cakes, each with one or two rose of sharon on their shoulder straps, gathered in a scrum.

Next to them were guards with the rank of captain with three-diamond encrusted ranks all around.

Lieutenant Colonel Bastille, who was at the front, opened his mouth.

“Night Hound. Resume labor immediately. Otherwise, there will be only punishment.”

He is in charge of various events such as entrance ceremonies and execution ceremonies and the management of the workhouse.

Hearing the stern warning, Bikir raised his right hand and put it in the pocket of his prison uniform.

Eventually, the moment Bikir pulled his hands out of his pockets, all the guards tensed up.

But

what came out of Bikir’s pocket was a fist with only the middle finger outstretched.

…fast!

A vein stood on Lieutenant Colonel Bastille’s forehead.

“Suppress! I will not ask for guilt even if I kill you!”

At that, the guards in front rushed forward with their respective weapons.

Huge talons, ignorantly large maces, savagely edged long swords, heavy ax blades, and long, bony scythes fell relentlessly toward Bikir.

Seeing this, Bikir brushed his chin and pondered.

‘I can’t see the face I’m looking for.

Currently, in Vikir’s eyes, the guards’ attack, loaded with mana, was extremely slow.

Although he couldn’t use mana because of the BDSM handcuffs, it was not difficult to avoid the pouring attacks thanks to the physical resistance, magic resistance, and reflexes stats obtained in Naraksu.

Bikir’s super nerves, which had bloomed to the limit, were added with a seasoned sense of battle.

Pupperpuppung!

Bikir avoided all attacks with just a few shakes of his head left and right, and soon broke through the scrum prepared by the field guards and came out to the back.

Then, the guards, who were building a siege from behind, were frightened and surprised.

“This profit! I can’t pass!”

“Don’t be scared! He’s a guy who can’t even use mana anyway!”

“Kill it!”

Each of the guards drew a dagger or sword and swung it at Bikir.

however.

“Bad judgment.”

Bikir swung the BDSM chains connected to his wrists and ankles as if they were flying in the air, clearing away all the slashes.

Peouk- Wooddeuk!

BDSM chains used to restrain prisoners have become rather weapons.

The guard’s nose bone, which had been hit by a chain that flew like a snake, collapsed.

Bikir knocked down the three guards with his fists and elbows, and then broke through the encirclement of the guards.

“Ugh!? Gup!”

“Cheukhak!?”

“Wueek-”

All the lower-ranking guards who were beaten by Vikir fell out in one blow.

“Ughhhh!? What is that guy! You can’t use mana right!?”

But it was natural for the guards to react like this.

simplicity and honesty!

Bikir thought as he stepped on the face of one of the major-level guards who followed him until the end.

‘They say that most of the guards in New Wave are bad guys. That’s right.’

There is no way a normal prison guard would come to such a terrifying place to work.

Most of the guards working here at Nouvelle Vague were demoted due to excessive harshness or corruption.

Most of them were humans who were not too different from the prisoners except for the clothes they were wearing.

Bikir knew this well because he had seen and heard many testimonials about how guards relieve their perverse desires and stress on prisoners.

at that time.

“……!”

Other figures came into Bikir’s field of vision.

Compared to the high-ranking guards, their youthful faces were a bit less soiled.

The guards of the rank of second lieutenant, the lowest rank in the New Wave, gathered in twos and threes and pointed their swords at Bikir.

Of course, everyone’s legs were shaking.

“Seo seniors got hit! Now it’s our turn!”

“As a prison guard of the Greater New Wave, I will never back down!”

“Have courage! Everyone, let’s fight!”

But no one came forward.

This is because they are still young and weak to jump into a place where they will surely die.

‘She must be the same age as the Colosseo Academy students.’

Bikir thought as he looked at the new lieutenants in front of him.

at that time.

Pit-

Bikir felt a slashing slash through his cheek.

Fluttering- Fluttering-

A few strands of hair fell off with a fairly sharp blow.

“……!”

Bikir turned his head with a new look.

There, a female jailer with a determined expression had a knife tucked into her waist.

Were you just in your late teens?

She had a pretty face, but perhaps because of her cold expression, she was a girl who looked much more seasoned than her age.

On the chest, there was a diamond and a rank insignia indicating the rank of second lieutenant, along with a name tag with the words ‘Kirko painting’ written on it.

Bikir was genuinely amazed.

Looking at the sword and lead sword from earlier, it was clear that this girl’s talent was not ordinary.

‘It’s a rare quality. Tudor, Bianca, or Sinclair… or maybe even Camus or Dolores.’

A girl with potential equal to that of young heroes her age at Colosseo Academy.

Why is someone with such a precious talent in a place like this?

‘Kirko. There was no hero with a name like this before returning?’

In the early part of the War of Extinction, the guards of New Waveg, who had declared that they would not intervene in the affairs of the earth, came up to the ground and fought the demons in the latter part of the War of Extinction.

Because the situation was so bad.

However, among those who made a name for themselves at that time, there was no female hero named Kirko.

‘…why didn’t my name get known even with such talent and skills?’

Vikir watched Kirko with some doubt.

“hot!”

In the gap where no one could move, Kirko alone bravely pulled out her sword.

A slash like a beam of light that flew in again was a level that reached the highest level of a sword expert.

‘It’s a waste of talent.’

Bikir dodged Kirko’s knife that was rushing at him with a gap of a piece of paper.

…bang!

Then, it stretched out its grip like a snake’s mouth, grabbed Kirko by the neck, and threw her to the ground.

“Cheuk!?”

Kirko had to roll on the floor vomiting.

The moment Bikir lifts his foot to pass Kirko.

“Oh, no!”

There was one more guard standing in front of Bikir.

Garum. Ensign Garm Nord.

A torturer who is called an ‘idiot’ not only by the guards but also by the prisoners.

This reckless low-ranking jailer stood in front of Kirko and started a confrontation with Bikir.

“…”

Bikir looked down with a strange gaze.

Kirko collapses on the floor and groans, and Garreum desperately guards the front.

I don’t know what the relationship between the two suckling babies is, but it was a very unpleasant picture for Bikir.

“Get out of the way.”

“Oh no! Kirkoman…!”

However, Gareum could not finish his words.

Wow!

It was because Bikir raised his hand as if it were annoying and slapped Gareum’s cheek.

…kwakkwak!

Gareum bounced back in an instant. And just like that, I passed out.

“Keugh!?”

The guards who had gathered in a hurry stamped their feet as they had no way to do anything about Bikir.

On the other hand, Bikir couldn’t get past these many guards without using mana, so he was just looking for a gap in the siege.

Right then.

“What kind of commotion is this?”

A low voice came from the top of the cliff far up the slope.

A heavy booming voice, like boiling molten iron.

Upon hearing the voice, all the guards’ faces brightened as if they had met a savior.

A man standing on a cliff looking down this way.

He had pitch-black skin and glowing yellow eyes.

With his short hair, scars covering his whole body and forearms thick like a log, and tight muscles all over his waist, his prison uniform was on the verge of bursting.

D’Ordume D’Orcdile.

One of the five pillars supporting the New Wave.

One of the ‘five chief guards’ that leads to the strongest has appeared.