Iron Blooded Hound

An unsavory snarl that may be heard when metal pieces rub against one another.

<Cerberus>

Risk level: A+

Size: 7m

Revelation Area: Red and Dark Mountains seventh edge

-Otherwise known as "Damnation's Gatekeeper Canine"

Not intrigued by the phantoms need to enter heck, however the apparitions who needed to escape damnation are promptly destroyed and made into clothes.

It lives in the profundities of agony, where every one of the phantoms at last head, and prompts a definitive of beasts of the Canine species.

This beast that regurgitated gas, oil, and blazes from somewhere inside its three throats is Cerberus, the watchman canine of agony.

In any event, for a carefully prepared tracker Vikir was a super-world class beast that he had just seen once from a good ways prior to returning.

At some point, the entryway to the devil world out of nowhere opened, and evil spirits would detonate from everywhere the spot.

On the day that declared the start of a long calamity, fighters chose from the family kicked the bucket by multiple digits to this Cerberus who was rampaging at the front.

Since it was the start of the conflict when everybody was awkward, the harm was significantly more extreme.

The harm would have been crazy had it not been for the most youthful female top of the Place of Funeral home at that point, Sovereign Lady Mortuary Camus.

Furthermore, presently, that equivalent Cerberus showed up before Vikir's eyes.

"... ... ."

Indeed, even despite this strong beast, which would be futile regardless of whether 100 hellhounds went after without a moment's delay, Vikire resisted the urge to panic.

"Right. Has Cerberus previously gotten over? For what reason did a person who just lived around the seventh edge come the entire way here?"

As the colloquialism goes, the region where Cerberus was first found was the high countries of the Red and Dark Mountains.

In any case, presently, Cerberus is down to the marshes of the initial segment of the edge here.

I don't have the foggiest idea what brought him here... ... .

[Kreureung!]

It was what was going on for Vikir.

"I can't resist."

Vikir chose to flip his secret oars in general.

There is no space to conceal his pre-bring abilities back.

Luckily, I had crossed the line a considerable amount, so I felt no gazes around me.

He doesn't actually have Youthful Do Canine Gatekeeper Knights, so he doesn't need to battle while concealing his abilities.

... Flash!

Vikir took out his shortsword and blew mana into it.

At the tip of his sword, a vaporous quality that must be made by the individuals who have arrived at the high level degree of Blade Master spills over.

Low Master = Wizard Circle 1

Master Middle of the road = Wizard second Circle

High level Master = Mage third Circle

Lower Grader = Wizard fourth Circle

Graduate Transitional = Wizard fifth Circle

High level Alumni = Wizard Circle 6

Blade Expert = Wizard seventh Circle

This is the overall military regulation recipe.

What consumes at the tip of 8-year-old Vikir's blade is a thick vaporous quality that appears to transform into fluid all of a sudden.

It represents a specialist progressed level, and an expertise relates to an incredible third class with regards to performers.

Before he returned, he was around 20 years of age.

Vikir raised his mana and immediately moved his hand.

The shortsword moves while attracting abnormal scars the air.

A direction formed like a sharp tooth, maybe three teeth had been called in the air.

Baskerville Type 3. A swordsmanship where three teeth are drawn with a sword and crashed into the rival's neck.

Vikir in his past life had dominated this Baskerville recipe up to the fourth equation, and was initially ready to make four teeth.

What's more, he had even the mana and quality of an undeniable level Duator, so on the off chance that you look at, and presently, the level is decrepit.

Yet, Vikir has another weapon.

His little body and fast portability, as well as his body solidified by the gift of the Stream Styx, are only that.

The masters are clear and the cons are clear.

Vikir swung his blade and made three teeth.

The youngster's hands and arms were little and short, so he was unable to make the 'fourth tooth', which was an organ in his past life, yet by and by, the vaporous atmosphere and three teeth obviously stretching out from the tip of his blade had the option to impede Cerberus' paws well.

"... ... ?"

Vikir felt something odd.

Cerberus was excessively overwhelming even with the strength before the return, yet is it conceivable to be a rival with the body of a long ways behind the baby inaction around then?

This implies that something is off-base on the Cerberus side also.

indeed.

"... ... !"

Vikir's sharp eye found something.

In the event that you take a gander at within Cerberus' side, you can see a gouge.

His developments were somewhat unnatural, so obviously he had a few broken ribs.

Indeed, even in the space where the fur was detached, clear pointed stone imprints were engraved.

"Who got it?"

Vikir giggled distrustfully.

On second thought, savages live on the opposite side of the red and dark mountains.

Meanwhile, the uncouth clans that the iron-blooded fighter Baskerville and the esteemed mage have been pestering Funeral home.

Assuming he was headed to this spot by the backslidings of savages, it appears to be that Cerberus' circumstance isn't awesome.

earth! Daang! Kang!

Vikir assembled the air that was dissipated like a gas and kept on hindering Cerberus' paws and teeth.

Each time the sword and teeth conflicted, there was a sound of iron and bronze conflicting, and starts flew.

[Kreureung! kong! damn!]

Cerberus attempts to chomp Vikir by moving his three heads, yet bombs like clockwork.

"I'm somewhat used to battling trios."

not that it isn't It's undeniably true that the three twins Hivero, Middlebro, and Lowbro's swordsmanship and pike strategies were motivated by Cerberus' battling style.

I'm utilized to it since I was horrendously harassed by the trios during various execution assessments in my past life.

The vast majority of the various odd examples were natural.

The trios in the past life were talented and brilliant, so they took in Cerberus' assault designs as though they were brought into the world with them, and Vikir is thinking back about those days and managing Cerberus.

Booung!

Baskerville Type 1, sharp teeth skip off Cerberus' teeth.

kang!

Baskerville Type 2, second tooth half stopped in Cerberus' neck.

... Fu-wook!

Baskerville Type 3, the third tooth strikes the second, driving it considerably more profound into Cerberus' neck.

Vikir's Baskerville service was obviously like the ordinary Baskerville function, however was unobtrusively unique.

The fighters who have gone through the time of annihilation have something that the fighters of the past period can't duplicate.

Existing swordsmanship hypotheses of the serene period were totally rethought through the time of obliteration, and pointless fat, fat, and oil were depleted as far as possible.

A blade that main moves to kill its rival.

Here, outrageous commonsense experience was added.

To place it in a relationship, the swordsmanship of the overall world is like hamburger with great marbling, the swordsmanship of the Baskerville family is hard chicken bosom, and the ongoing swordsmanship of Vikir resembles dried meat jerky.

The pith of the limit, that is the expectation to kill the other individual.

Vikir's sword has an unmistakable feeling of direction.

... Fuck!

The shortsword hit Cerberus' side.

The gas-like air detonated and Cerberus let out a shout.

Nonetheless, Cerberus, the gatekeeper canine of misery, doesn't swoon at this level.

The person wounded his paw into the unfilled part beneath the direction the shortsword had drawn.

Knock!

Since I took the bones of my adversary, it is normal for me to forfeit my own tissue.

Vikir's back snapped.

but. Shockingly, his body, which was nearly salted in the Waterway Styx, endured Cerberus' paws.

"... ... However two times would be incomprehensible."

Vikir scowled.

No stomach burst, however a few of his ribs were most certainly broken.

In addition, to exacerbate the situation.

Pacan!

The short blade that couldn't endure Vikir's quality in the long run broke.

"this."

Difficulty. However, a carefully prepared tracker generally finds the best course significantly under these conditions. that.

"It's a progression of 36 lines."

36 techniques contrived by the top of the Leviathan family, who is the most educated in the craft of battle among the 7 families.

Among them, the 36th is the situation sangchaek (走爲上策).

Hodak-

Vikir immediately convoluted and kicked the ground as hard as possible.

Then, at that point, Cerberus, who held onto the triumph, follows such a vikir.

[...] Kreureung!]

Cerberus, who went after in a moment, would have been gotten immediately on the off chance that it hadn't been for the enormous injuries cut on his side.

Vikir got away from the floodwaters, profoundly thankful to the anonymous savage clan past the mountains.

yet. You can see the limit that Vikir has crossed.

Sadly or luckily, there were no aide canines around.

Vikir got around the security fencing denoting the line and ran.

Cerberus crushed the spiked metal and stake directly before his eyes and crushed them, then, at that point, push three of his heads into Vikir's back.

[Kong! kong! keong!]

What could be more remarkable than a dog pursuing its prey?

Cerberus opens his mouth in win.

The distance presently limited directly before him. soon. Before long you will actually want to bite the tissue and nibble the bones of your prey.

... thump!

If by some stroke of good luck it hadn't been for the floor that abruptly went down.

Pook-

Out of nowhere, the floor fell.

Cerberus hurled himself entirely into a pit covered with dry straw to make it vague from the plain.

Falling into the snare, Cerberus lost his equilibrium, yet he arrived on the ground and attempted to bounce back over the pit.

... ... However, that was inconceivable.

Fufufufufu!

This is on the grounds that various wooden lances stuck topsy turvy on the floor wounded her body.

[Sweet!]

A tearing shout ejected from every one of Cerberus' three heads.

At the lower part of the pit Vikir had dug, there were innumerable wooden lances jutting.

Obviously, a large portion of the wooden lances couldn't pierce Cerberus' hard skin and broke, however a few wooden lances entered

Cerberus' body and left lethal injuries.

It was the lower mid-region within the side, where the pointed stone formed injury had been profoundly dug.

"Welcome to the support of the blade."

Vikir momentarily saluted himself.

Initially, this trap was made in anticipation of being pursued by different beasts like hellhounds.

They were introduced just to block development or a bit.

Presently I'm making a seriously surprising pay.

however, that is all there is to it

Effervescent... ...

Cerberus snapped and broke the wooden lances trapped in his side and mouth, and his entire body shuddered fiercely.

A distraught fury, yet it was something different that made Cerberus' body shake before that.

Blood Bean!

Vikir heated up the bloodbean beans and absorbed the wooden lance the water so the energy drenched into the tip of the lance.

Cerberus is likewise a canine beast. A lot of chocolate energy saturates straightforwardly into the body through the blood of the injury.

In any case, similar to a high-positioning beast, he didn't tumble down without a moment's delay.

Froth at the mouth, consuming fecal matter trickling from the butt, and the thick smell of chocolate espresso.

Yet, all things considered, the three heads stand upstanding and gaze at Vikir.

Vikir shook his sack and took out every one of the Horrendous Beans.

Tick! tick! sudden!

Beans fly towards Cerberus' three expanding jaws.

The majority of the beans tossed by Vikir arrived in Cerberus' mouth, which was dialed back by his lance.

Subsequently, Cerberus' development bit by bit dials back.

Dduduk! Pop!

In the long run, Cerberus broke a few wooden lances trapped in his body and drove Vikir to the edge of his pit.

It was around the time the sack of Blood Bean Beans was vacant.

Cerberus has turned into a disaster area, however he actually has the solidarity to nibble his prey by the neck with a last jump.

"... ... ."

Knowing that, Vikir, who had been headed to an impasse, looked incredibly reasonable.

After a short time, Cerberus moved.

Vikir likewise lurches forward, gripping one of his wooden lances.

... Pod!

The wooden lance tossed by the tracker flew through the air and touched Cerberus' body.

The wooden lance, which appeared to be somewhat caught in the injury as an afterthought, was pulled out vulnerably.

If not for the first bolt mark, it would have bobbed off by any stretch of the imagination.

Cerberus uncovered his teeth at Vikir.

Cerberus' six eyes consumed significantly more seriously at the prospect that he would before long see the finish of his prey that had been so irritating.

... ... but.

Breetle!

Cerberus, who was running, stunned his body for a moment.

Cerberus, who unexpectedly lost his equilibrium, overreacted, yet serenely moved forward once more.

falter

Be that as it may, the subsequent step was additionally somewhat out of concentration.

The equivalent goes for the third step. In the fourth step, it even almost fell over with its legs twisted in a weird bearing, and in the fifth step fell.

Furthermore, in the 6th step, he hauled his body forward once, and in the seventh step, he bombed on the floor without creeping.

Just multiple times.

The quantity of advances Cerberus took while moving toward Vikir.

That was his last.

... Brazen!

The three heads, froth rising at the edges of their mouths, tumbled down and at absolutely no point ever moved in the future.

Really at that time did Vikir plunk down resting up against the precipice.

"... ... There is something that would merit stowing away."

The tracker's look is aimed at the wooden lance he tossed before.

A wooden lance that just brushed Cerberus.

Notwithstanding, the wooden lance is somewhat not the same as other wooden lances.

Connected to the tip of the lance were two little yet sharp spikes.

Toward the finish of this dry thistle, you can see that there is a dim quality.

A snake's toxin that makes it challenging to try and walk.

The Ridiculous Mamba's posion was all the while coursing through it.

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