Revenge of the Iron-blooded Sword Hound

Chapter 289

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 289: Power Inflation (7)

“What, where am I? A dream?”

Sinclaire scanned her surroundings with trembling eyes.

Bartolomeo, with his eyes wide open, and above him, the looming figure of a giant demon.

And the criminal Night Hound and the saintess Dolores were hand in hand.

???

Sinclaire could only blink her eyes continuously, unable to believe the current situation.

Dolores was greatly perplexed.

‘Why is Sinclaire here!? She must have drunk tea with sleeping poison!’

She tried to remain calm and asked, “Sinclaire! Are you okay? Judging by your condition, it seems like you’ve been drugged with some kind of sleeping poison…”

“…I-I’m fine. Um, I usually take various types of sleeping pills, so I’ve built up a bit of tolerance.”

Sinclaire juggled numerous schedules, including part-time work, school studies, personal studies, and extracurricular activities. Due to the stress, she often took different kinds of sleeping pills, unknowingly developing a strong tolerance, leading to the current situation.

However, the effectiveness of the sleeping pills couldn’t be ignored.

Sinclaire’s eyes were still slightly droopy, indicating she hadn’t fully awakened.

“I felt too drowsy, stumbled, and ended up falling into this open box or gift. It seems the door closed in the meantime. But what’s going on? And what is that? And why is Night Hound here too?”

She alternated her gaze between Belial and Vikir.

Dolores ground her teeth.

“Sinclaire! I’ll explain everything later! For now, come this way…”

But she couldn’t finish her sentence.

Belial grinned and raised a massive fist.

[It wouldn’t be a bad idea to eliminate useless connections at this point. From now on, all dramas must end.]

Bartolomeo’s body twisted again, unleashing a terrifying magical explosion.

Sinclaire’s eyes narrowed as she witnessed it.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Crash!

Finally, Belial’s fist descended toward Sinclaire.

As if witnessing a meteorite fall, Dolores screamed in horror.

“No, Sinclaire!”

She rushed forward, trying to summon as much divine power as possible, but she was too slow.

…However.

“…!”

Dolores was taken aback.

Thud! Thump! Thud!

Sinclaire had blocked Belial’s fist.

Giant golden palms, emerging from the floor and walls, intercepted Belial’s attack.

[…? What’s this?]

Belial furrowed his brow in unexpected interference.

However, it was not just a simple interference.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Unexpected golden thorns sprouted from the back of the golden hand, piercing through Belial’s fist.

[!?]

As Belial hastily withdrew his hand, the changes around him began to catch his eye.

Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish!

Waves of gold coins.

Treasures piled up like mountains, creating waves as they surged in this direction.

Not towards Belial, but towards Sinclaire!

Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Golden serpents were being sucked towards the hat Sinclaire held in her hand.

And as a result, the mana emitted by Sinclaire was also growing stronger.

‘The money-hat.’ The artifact she got from the University league.

This was a prize Sinclaire received for ranking 8th in the university league.

‘Hehe, in this world, money is power. To wear this hat, I really need to earn a lot of money.’

A hat that becomes more powerful as you consume money.

Although it was worn out in places and had missing teeth on the brim, one effect was certain—it was a potent artifact.

Gurgle! Gurgle!

Wearing the hat, Sinclaire cast another spell.

The gold coins and nuggets in the vicinity seemed to melt away in flames, quickly coalescing into a massive fist.

…Thud!

Belial’s head turned again with a loud noise.

[An annoying one, indeed.]

There was a glint of life in Belial’s horizontally slit pupils, like that of a mountain goat.

…Thud!

Bartolomeo’s body moved.

With a bizarre trajectory, he swung balmung.

“…Ugh!?”

Blood gushed from various parts of his body.

Sinclaire dodged Bartolomeo, who swung a sword in front of her eyes and stepped back.

“My lord!? Why are you doing this? Ugh!?”

She seemed to recognize Bartolomeo’s face and shouted in confusion.

Upon seeing this, Dolores screamed, “Sinclaire! That man is not the head of the Bourgeois Clan! He’s just a puppet that had his body taken by a demon a long time ago!”

“What!? A d-demon?”

“Please believe me…”

But once again, Dolores couldn’t finish her sentence.

…Thud!

Vikir, who flew in using the thread of baby madam, soared upwards with Sinclaire clinging to his waist.

Crash!

The area where Sinclaire had just been standing was ruthlessly destroyed by Bartolomeo’s attack.

“Ugh!?”

Sinclaire looked at the face of the one who lifted her, surprised.

Night Hound. A villainous figure with eerie red light emanating from the eye part of the mask.

“Let go of me! Stinky Villain!”

She quickly pulled mana, but having just created and operated a large golden hand moments ago, she had already depleted too much strength.

‘Although the hat becomes stronger when it consmes money, there’s a limit to how fast it can caonsume it.’

Vikir gently placed struggling Sinclaire back on the ground.

“…Huh?”

Sinclaire momentarily had a bewildered expression at the unexpectedly gentle landing.

Vikir intentionally spoke with a more harsh and raspy voice.

“There’s nothing good about getting involved. If you become a hostage for no reason, it’ll be troublesome. Stay back.”

“…Hostage? Troublesome?”

Sinclaire looked confused.

Soon, she quickly calmed her breathing.

In an instant, her gaze became sharp—a truly genius-like attitude.

“Why would it be troublesome for ‘Night Hound’?”

“….”

“Surely you’re not on the side of justice right now. Then why did you save me? A decoy for distraction? Who made Mr. Bartolomeo like that? Was it you? What’s your relationship with President Dolores?”

Sinclaire’s questions poured out incessantly, calm and sharp, but with a subtle tremor at the end.

It was like a child holding a blade without complete determination.

And the experienced Vikir knew how to deal with such a fragile blade.

“Demons are absolute evil. You’re not so foolish as to not know that, right kid?”

“Calling me a kid… There doesn’t seem to be much age difference…”

“Being the polar opposite of absolute evil does not imply that you are good, but you will know which side you are on when it comes down to it.”

“…”

“What to see, what to believe, and what choices to make are entirely personal matters.”

It was originally about ‘not getting involved.’

No need for persuasion, no need for influence. Just each person walking their own path.

After finishing speaking, Vikir turned his head.

And in front of him, Bartolomeo, his eyes glowing, was rushing forward with a magical sword in hand.

Swoosh—thud!

Vikir swatted away Bartolomeo’s right hand, which was charging at him with the sword.

Furthermore, he left deep scars on Belial’s main body beyond that.

[Nggh! But it’s useless!]

Belial suffered, but it was brief; he soon absorbed the surrounding gold and treasures, regenerating his wounds.

Overflowing wealth, boiling greed!

As long as there is money and humans desire it, its value is eternal.

Belial was reveling in a life and power that seemed infinite, sustained by money, value, and greed!

But Vikir did not give up.

“Let’s end this.”

“I’ve got your back!”

Vikir swung his sword horizontally, and Dolores cast a protective spell from behind.

Soon.

…Flash!

With a dazzling light, eight fangs engulfed in white flames tore through the world.

Baskerville Style 8th. Perfect Form.

It savagely mutilated Belial’s entire body.

[Hehehehe! It’s useless! As long as the money in the vault doesn’t dry up, I can recover as much as I want!]

Despite the wounds and agony piercing his entire body, Belial laughed uproariously.

Soon.

Clang-clang-clang!

With another loud noise, gold coins made a tumultuous sound as they surged again.

Belial sucked in a massive amount of money.

[How about this! The infinite and eternal power of this body…!]

However.

[…Huh?]

Belial couldn’t laugh until the end. Clearly, just like before, despite absorbing a vast amount of wealth, his stamina was not fully restored.

“Huh? What is this? What’s going on?”

Belial looked down at the coins, bills, jewels, and bundles of money being sucked into his body. They were clearly accumulating on his body, but strangely, the rate of stamina recovery was slowing down, and in the end, it became almost ineffective.

[???]

Belial looked perplexed as he observed the deep scars still present all over his body.

And then, in front of him,

“Finally, the time has come.”

Vikir took a step forward.

“Curious about why your recovery speed has slowed down?”

Vikir asked Belial, who appeared confused.

Soon, Vikir pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and threw it towards Belial.

[…!?]

Belial’s eyes widened as if they were about to tear apart.

[Breaking News] Suspicious currency scattered in the imperial city, counterfeit bills? Or a herald of hyperinflation?

– Yesterday evening, an unknown amount of questionable money was scattered in the sky of the imperial city…

The unidentified coins and bills contained in the giant balloon poured out like a downpour all over the empire, regardless of time and place, as the balloon burst…

Citizens are anxious about whether this money is counterfeit or if a large sum of money has really been released into the market. Economic experts express concerns about short-term loss of trust in the inflamed currency…

This was the headline of the early morning newspaper scheduled to be published tomorrow.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]