The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 393: The Worst Torture (6)

Four months had passed since then.

"Today is a happy day! I am able to welcome so many new and capable subordinates!"

As Lt. Colonel Bastille wept tears of joy, a small ceremony was taking place in Nouvelle Vague.

It was called a promotion.

Although it was not a formal promotion ceremony held once a year, it had everything needed for a simple promotion ceremony.

As everyone applauded, the newest candidates for the promotion walked up to the podium.

Lieutenant Colonel Bastille, the officer in charge of the promotion ceremony, tearfully embraced each and every one of them.

But it was Garm, or rather, Vikir, who he hugged the hardest and longest.

"Congratulations, Captain Garm Nord!"

Originally a Lieutenant, Garm Nord had been promoted two ranks to Captain.

It was an unconventional promotion, almost unheard of among lower ranking guards.

But the even more surprising was the fact that no one seemed to think it was unreasonable that Garm had been promoted from lieutenant to captain in one swoop.

"Second Lieutenant Garm always exceeded his work quota anyway, so he deserved to be promoted to Captain on that basis alone."

"Add to that the fact that he subdued a Level 8 prisoner's rampage four months ago, and he's proven to be capable. I think that's enough for a promotion to Captain."

"Anyway, promotion to two ranks would have been natural over time... Lieutenant Colonel Bastille is showing off at this moment."

"I don't know. As a rule, a promotion of two ranks requires a full investigation of one's background and a full investigation of one's past life, which not only takes months but is incredibly detail-oriented. Lieutenant Colonel Bastille thinks so highly of this young man that he spared that process."

Everyone welcomed the new mid-level guard, Captain Garm Nord.

Many of them had been disciplined or demoted for their rowdy behavior.

Lieutenant Colonel Bastille personally pinned the three diamonds of Captain's rank on Vikir's breastplate and said.

"Since your exploits, the prisoner has been in solitary confinement for three months, and since his release he has been very faithful in his labor."

"That's good. I think it's a testament to everyone's bravery."

"Humbling. You were the bravest of them all. But...."

Lt. Colonel Bastille spoke in a low voice.

"What in the world did you do to make that rascal go down like that, by your own words?"

"I didn't say anything, I just used logic to convince him that there's no good in going on a rampage."

"Hmmm, is that so, hahaha – okay, well, that's not exactly what I'm here to talk about, but I'll have a chance to hear more later."

Lt. Colonel Bastille, a typically likable man, smirked, as if an unconventional answer wasn't so bad after all.

With that, Vikir descended from the stage, receiving the enhanced weapons and letters of appointment only given to those with the rank of Captain or higher.

...Good!

The weapon Garm chose was a three-tiered baton.

'It feels good in my hand.'

It was the weapon that the real Garm had used in his life, but it was also a good fit for Vikir.

Having spent his entire life as an assassin or swordsman, Vikir rarely had to use a weapon like the three-tiered baton, which was designed to beat and subdue, not kill.

'But the more I use it, the more I appreciate it."

The cold feel of it against his palm, the crackle of the handle, the way the tip extended with two cheerful snaps with each swing.

In many ways, it was a weapon he'd come to love. It was like finding a second passion.

[Human. Is that what you've opened your eyes to?]

"Hmm. You mean nonlethal rather than lethal, then I suppose that's possible."

[No. Not that one.]

"?"

Decarabia blurted out another unintelligible word.

Vikir shut him up and steps down from the stage.

He had gotten the Captain's rank he wanted, and that was enough for him.

* * *

Dakkak-

Vikir closed the door on the visit.

The new quarters he'd been assigned upon his promotion to captain were far more comfortable than his old ones.

Goodbye stone caves, where he'd been crammed in like a swarm of ants in cramped, filthy quarters.

The interior of the fifteen square stone room was neatly organized.

It still had the same salty dankness, but with a window to the outside and a separate shower, it wasn't as bad as the lower-level guards' rooms.

Vikir went to the window and looked out.

Behind the thin layer of bubbles created by the mysterious mucus substance Flubber, the dark depths of the ocean stretched out before him.

But he could see quite well, thanks to the coral reefs and colonies of glow-in-the-dark jellyfish below.

In the distance, a giant shadowy figure swam by.

"...."

Vikir stood by the window and watched the nameless deep-sea fish swimming for what seemed like forever.

Then.

There was a tap.

There was a knock on the door.

"Captain. May I come in?"

A cold, firm voice.

Vikir didn't say anything, and the door opened.

A uniformed woman stood on the threshold. It was First Lieutenant Kirko.

Ever since Vikir had earned the rank of Captain, she had been his adjutant.

Kirko herself said it was a natural progression, but Lieutenant Colonel Bastille told a different story.

'For some reason, Lieutenant Kirko, who has always refused to be someone's adjutant, did not specifically refuse the executive order to become your adjutant. Hahaha-'

Lt. Colonel Bastille trailed off with an inexplicable glance.

Vikir turned his head, tearing his gaze away from the scenery outside the window.

"What's going on?"

It was natural, as if the relationship had always been one of superior and subordinate.

But Kirko, too, had taken the change for granted.

"Prisoner Sakkuth De Leviathan, on Level 8, has had another seizure."

"Is this the first one since his solitary confinement?"

"Yes."

Vikir nodded at Kirko's report.

With that, Vikir grabbed his three-tiered baton and left the room.

Then.

"...ah."

Vikir turned around as if he had forgotten something.

"?"

Kirko scratched her head.

As he turned, Vikir carried a thick Lun bible out of the room.

Looking at it, Kirko made a strange face and opened his mouth.

"Captain."

"Why."

"Are you religious?"

"To a certain extent."

"I've never been to the surface, so I don't know what religion is like on the surface, but I've heard... that it is quite corrupted. They take money and forgive sins."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, I wanted to ask you if the book would help calm the prisoner down."

Vikir smiled dryly at Kirko's question.

"It might."

The answer was short.

With that, Vikir descended the steep spiral staircase to Level 8.

He could feel the stone walls and floor creaking as he entered the prison.

"I can't believe I'm being executed! That's not true, I've been doing hard labor since my solitary confinement, and that blue blob in the Level 10 construction zone is swelling like crazy, and it's not all the result of my pickaxe! Aaaaaaah!"

Sakkuth's voice echoed throughout the corridor.

It seemed to be a protest against the death sentence.

Lieutenant Colonel Bastille was, to put it in a good way, a good man, but in a bad way, he was a safety-minded person.

He was someone who wanted as few variables as possible in his upcoming promotion.

To him, noise is a nuisance.

A variable, dangerous man who could strike again at any moment.

'...Well, he deserves a quiet, unofficial execution.'

Vikir clicked his tongue inwardly.

It's one thing to hasten his own demise.

Meanwhile, Sakkuth continued his rampage.

He was scattering poison, a mixture of water mold, sulfur, and several types of soil.

"I finally met 'him' in solitary confinement! How long do you think I'm going to be locked in here! I'm getting out of here soon, and what's with the execution, cancel it now, you bastards, I've done my duties faithfully, what's wrong with that, Aghhhhh!"

Sakkuth ran wild, foaming at the mouth.

Just then.

"...!"

The rampage stopped and it calmed down.

Even the guards, who had been pulling at BDISSEM's chain, turned their heads to stare in surprise.

Vikir stood there.

"Seniors. May I have your attention for a moment?"

At Vikir's polite request, the guards all nodded and stepped back.

But Kirko was still standing close to Vikir's side.

Vikir turned to Kirko.

"You stay back, too."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I am Captain Garm's adjutant. I am obligated to stand by your side at all times."

Kirko's demeanor showed determination and stubbornness as she answered like a machine without changing her expression.

Vikir shook his head once.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in front of the cage.

"You will be executed in a week."

"...."

"This is the result of your rampage, so take it sweetly."

To Vikir's cold voice, Sakkuth could only stare, unable to answer.

The guards stood at full alert behind him, not knowing when he might explode again.

Then.

Vikir passed something through the bars.

It was a Lun bible.

"Read it before your execution, and repent."

"...."

Sakkuth took the Bible with trembling hands.

With bloodshot eyes fixed on the book, he began to flip through the pages.

After a moment.

"...!"

Sakkuth's pupils dilated.

On the middle page of the Bible, a small print appeared.

'The time is short. D-7'

A secretly hidden push.

Upon seeing it, Sakkuth's demeanor softened and he began to sob.

"I acknowledge my sin. I will accept everything sincerely."

His words came as a shock to all the guards present.

"My God, that maniac can't be that soft after all this time...."

"I can't believe my eyes."

"Garm, what the hell did you do?"

The guards, who were destined to be forced to take the man's whims for the next week, breathed a sigh of relief as if they'd been doing it for a decade.

They swarmed around Vikir, demanding to know what he had done.

Vikir replied in a dry voice.

"Nothing much, I just gave him hope."

Of course, that hope is false.

A week later, he would be executed. There would be no appeal.

'...The torture of hope is the worst kind of torture.'

Vikir knew this all too well, as a man who had lived through an Age of Destruction.

There was no salvation at the hands of others.

You can only save yourself.

Vikir turned his back on the now subdued Sakkuth.

Planning a 'real' escape, not the false one he'd promised Sakkuth.

'... A jailbreak in Nouvelle Vague is not just a jailbreak.'

Vikir was right.

'When Night Hound is released from Nouvelle Vague, many things will change in the world.'

It is an 'entrance sign' to a world where demons have begun to appear.

It will be humanity's declaration of war, marking the beginning of a new age of destruction.