Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound (Novel) Chapter 11


C11: Hellhound (4)

An unpleasant sound of howling that can pierce through the ears when the bronze plates clash against each other.

<Cerberus (Κέρβερος)>

Danger Level: A+

Size: 7m

Location: Part 7 of the Red and Black Mountain Range

Also known as the "Guardian Dog of Hell"
While it shows no interest in specters trying to enter hell, it immediately tears apart any specter attempting to escape from hell, reducing them to shreds.

Residing deep within the oil world, the place where all specters eventually converge, it acts as the ultimate form of the supernatural species.

This demon, Cerberus, releases gas, oil, and flames from the deep crevices of its three mouths.

Even for the experienced hunter Vikir, it was an elite monster that he had only seen from a distance before.

One day, when the gates of the demon realm suddenly opened and demons poured out explosively from every corner.

On that day, which marked the beginning of a long-lasting catastrophe, the heroes selected by the seven major families fell in numbers exceeding three digits while confronting this Cerberus.

As it was the early stages of the war and everyone was inexperienced, the damage was even more severe.

If it weren't for Morg Camus, the youngest female boss of the Morg family, stepping forward, the damage would have been immeasurable.

And now, right in front of Vikir's eyes, Cerberus revealed its form.


Even in the face of a formidable monster where the attacks of a hundred Hellhounds would be futile, Vikir remained calm.

"So, Cerberus has already crossed over. Why is it here when it used to reside around Part 7 of the mountain range?"

As he said, the area where Cerberus was originally discovered was in the highlands of the Red and Black Mountains.

However, Cerberus had descended to the lowlands of Part 1.

Though he didn't know what brought this creature here...


Vikir found himself in quite a predicament.

"I guess there's no other choice."

Vikir decided to reveal all the cards he had kept hidden.

He couldn't afford to conceal his pre-regression abilities.

Fortunately, he had already crossed the boundary, so he didn't feel any prying eyes around.

There were no Working Dogs or guardian knights present, so there was no need to hide his skills unnecessarily.


Vikir drew his shortsword and infused it with mana.

An ethereal aura, only created by those who have reached the level of Sword Expert or higher, flickered at the tip of his blade.

Novice Expert = Mage Circle 1

Intermediate Expert = Mage Circle 2

Advanced Expert = Mage Circle 3

Graduate Novice = Mage Circle 4

Graduate Intermediate = Mage Circle 5

Graduate Advanced = Mage Circle 6

Sword Master = Mage Circle 7

This is the conventional formula of Wuwei (martial prowess).

The dense, gaseous aura that seemed like it could turn into liquid at any moment emanated from the tip of eight-year-old Vikir's blade.

The skill that represents an Advanced Expert is equivalent to a remarkable level, comparable to the third class for mages.

It can be considered the level of a twenty-year-old before regression.

Vikir raised his mana and quickly moved his hand.

The shortsword moved, leaving a peculiar trace in the air.

The sharp tooth-like trajectory appeared as if three fangs had been summoned in mid-air.

Baskerville Style 3 (San-Shiki): A sword technique that draws three fangs with a sword and thrusts them into the opponent's neck.

In his previous life, Vikir had mastered this Baskerville Style up to Style 4 and could create four fangs.

At that time, he had also possessed the mana and aura of a Graduate Expert, so comparing then and now, his current level was miserably inferior.

However, Vikir had another weapon.

His small stature, agility, and the strengthened physique granted by the protection of Styx River were his assets.

The advantages were clear, as were the disadvantages.

Vikir wielded his sword, creating three fangs.

His hands and arms were small and short, so he couldn't create the "Fourth Fang" that had been his organ in his past life. Nevertheless, the distinct aura and three fangs extending clearly from the tip of his sword were effectively blocking Cerberus' claws.


Vikir sensed something peculiar.

Even with the power of his previous life, Cerberus was already overwhelming, but now he could face it with the body of a child far weaker than his former self?

This meant that there was something wrong with Cerberus as well.



Vikir's keen perception captured something.

Upon closely examining the side of Cerberus, there was a noticeably sunken area.

Considering the slightly unnatural movements, it was evident that several ribs were broken.

Furthermore, around the torn fur, there were clearly engraved arrowhead marks, visible to anyone.

"Who could have caused this?"

Vikir couldn't help but smirk at the absurdity of the situation.

Come to think of it, on the other side of the enemy and the Black Mountain, there reside the barbarians.

The savage tribes that had been tormenting the blood swordsmen Baskerville and the prestigious sorcerer Morg relentlessly.

If they were driven this far due to being pushed by the barbarians, it seemed that Cerberus' situation wasn't all that great either.

Thud! Clang! Crack!

Vikir continuously gathered the dissipating aura like a mechanism, effectively blocking Cerberus' claws and fangs.

With each clash of the sword and fangs, the sound of iron and bronze colliding filled the air, accompanied by sparks flying.

"Creak! Thud! Snap!"

Cerberus attempted to tear Vikir apart by moving its three heads, but each attempt failed.

"I'm quite accustomed to fighting against triplets."

It wasn't entirely false. The swordsmanship and trident techniques of the triplets Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro were indeed inspired by Cerberus' combat style.

Due to the relentless torment inflicted upon them by the triplets during countless practical evaluations in their previous lives, Vikir had become accustomed to it.

He was well-versed in numerous irregular patterns as well.

The previous lives' triplets were experienced and intelligent, which allowed them to acquire Cerberus' attack patterns as if they were their own, and Vikir reminisced about those days while engaging Cerberus.


Baskerville Style 1, the sharp fang deflects Cerberus' tooth.


Baskerville Style 2, the second fang partially pierces Cerberus' neck.


Baskerville Style 3, the third fang strikes the second fang, driving it even deeper into Cerberus' neck.

Vikir's Baskerville Style was undoubtedly similar to the ordinary Baskerville Style, but it had subtle differences.

The swordsmen who had survived the Age of Destruction possessed something that the previous era's swordsmen couldn't replicate.

During the peaceful era, the existing theories of swordsmanship underwent a complete reinterpretation during the Age of Destruction, shedding unnecessary bulk, fat, and grease to the limit.

A sword that moves only to kill its opponent.

It is supplemented by extreme practical experience.

To illustrate, conventional swordsmanship of the ordinary world is like well-marbled beef, Baskerville's swordsmanship is like firm chicken breast, and Vikir's current swordsmanship is like tough, dried jerky.

The essence of extremity lies in the intention to kill the opponent.

Vikir's sword has a clear sense of purpose.


The short sword struck the flank of Cerberus.

The aura, which fluttered like a gas, exploded, and Cerberus let out a howl.

However, Cerberus, the hellhound, is not deterred by this level of attack.

The beast thrust its claw into the empty space right beneath the trajectory of the short sword that had passed by.


Taking hold of the opponent's bone, it is only natural to sacrifice one's own flesh.

Vikir's waist was forcefully twisted.

However, as if immersed in the Styx, his body astonishingly withstood Cerberus' claw.

"...But twice would be unreasonable."

Vikir grimaced.

Though his entrails didn't burst, several ribs were clearly broken.

Moreover, things went from bad to worse.


The short sword, unable to withstand Vikir's aura, finally shattered.

"Oh no."

A difficult situation. However, skilled hunters always find the best path even in such circumstances. That is...

"The 36 Paths of Perseverance."

Among the 7 great families, the head of the family, who was most knowledgeable about martial arts, devised 36 strategies.

Among them is the 36th strategy called "Juwi Sangchek" (走爲上策).


Vikir quickly turned around and forcefully slammed the ground.

In response, Cerberus, who gained the upper hand, pursued Vikir.


If it weren't for the large wound carved into Cerberus's side, Vikir would have been captured immediately as Cerberus swiftly attacked him.

Deeply grateful to the unknown barbarian tribe beyond the mountain range, Vikir escaped from the peril.

Eventually, the boundary line that Vikir had crossed became visible.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there were no working dogs around.

Vikir leaped over the barbed wire that indicated the boundary line.

Cerberus crashed into the barbed wire and posts right in front of it, and then its three heads snarled toward Vikir's back.

[Clang! Clang! Clang!]

There is nothing as determined as a hunting dog chasing its prey.

Cerberus opened its mouth wide with satisfaction.

Now, the distance has narrowed down. Soon, it will be able to chew on the flesh of its prey and crush the bones.


If only it hadn't been the floor that suddenly collapsed.


The ground sank unexpectedly.

Cerberus, falling into the pitfall, lost its balance, but it immediately tried to step on the ground and jump back up onto the pitfall.

...But that was impossible.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Countless spears that were buried upside down in the floor pierced its body.


A scream resembling the tearing of Cerberus's three heads burst out.

The pitfall that Vikir had set up was filled with countless spears protruding from the ground.

Of course, most of the spears couldn't pierce through Cerberus's tough hide and ended up breaking. However, a few spears managed to penetrate Cerberus's body, inflicting fatal wounds.

It was in the area near its inner flank, where the arrow-shaped wounds were deep.

"Welcome to the Swords Cradle."

Vikir muttered triumphantly.

Originally, this trap was prepared in anticipation of being pursued by other demons such as the Hellhound.

They were installed only to slightly hinder movements.

Currently, it is yielding quite unexpected gains, so to speak.

Trembling, trembling, trembling...

Cerberus vigorously shook his body, breaking and shattering the spears embedded in his side and mouth.

Furious anger consumed him, but before that, there was something else that made Cerberus's body tremble.

Blood Beans!

Vikir had boiled the Blood Beans to a frenzy, soaking the spears in boiling water to infuse their essence into the tips.

Cerberus, too, was a creature of excess. The abundance of chocolate energy seeped into his bloodstream through the wounds.

However, as a high-ranking demon, he did not fall easily.

Foaming at the mouth, fiery excrement dripping from his anus, the thick aroma of chocolate coffee permeated the air.

But even so, the three heads stood tall, glaring at Vikir.

Vikir reached into his pouch and took out all the Blood Bean pellets.

Tick! Tick-tock! Crack!

The pellets flew toward Cerberus's gaping heads.

Most of the pellets thrown by Vikir hit the spears, making Cerberus's movements sluggish and causing them to mostly end up in his mouth.

As a result, Cerberus's movements gradually slowed down.

Thud! Thump!

Eventually, Cerberus completely broke the spears lodged in his body and pushed Vikir into a corner of the pit.

By the time the pouch of Blood Bean pellets was empty, it happened.

Cerberus, who had become battered and beaten, still possessed enough strength to seize its prey by the throat through its final leap.


Knowing this, Vikir, cornered to a dead end, showed an incredibly cautious demeanor.

Finally, Cerberus moved.

Vikir, gripping a spearhead in his hand, charged forward.


The spear thrown by the hunter flew through the air, grazing Cerberus' body.

It lightly grazed the wound on its flank and then effortlessly pulled away.

If it weren't for the previous arrowhead lodged there, it would have bounced off completely.

Unprotected, Cerberus bared its teeth towards Vikir.

With the thought of witnessing the ultimate demise of its troublesome prey, Cerberus' six eyes burned even more intensely.



In an instant, the charging Cerberus wavered.

Suddenly losing its balance, Cerberus was momentarily startled but regained composure and took another step forward.


However, its second step also veered off course.

The third step was the same, and on the fourth step, its leg bent in an odd direction, almost causing it to fall, and on the fifth step, it stumbled and fell flat on the ground.

And on the sixth step, it barely managed to pull its body forward, while on the seventh step, it collapsed face-first onto the ground without even crawling.

Only seven steps.

The number of steps Cerberus took while approaching Vikir.

It was its last.


The three heads, with froth bubbling at their mouths, were impaled into the reddish soil and could no longer move.

Vikir, finally able to lean against the cliff, could sit down.

"...It was worth hiding."

The hunter's gaze turned towards the spear that was thrown earlier.

The spear that barely grazed Cerberus.

However, this spear was slightly different from the others.

Attached to the tip of the spear were two small, pointed thorns.

At the tip of these tightly clinging thorns, a sinister energy was visible.

The venomous fangs of a snake that makes it nearly impossible to take seven steps once bitten.

It was the evil intent of Bloody Mamba that had been flickering all along.

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