Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 298

Episode 298 Last Semester (3)

“Oh, I’m thirsty. Where is the well here, old man?”

A plain-looking old woman asks.

But Vikir couldn’t treat her like a normal old woman.

‘……Nabokov Rune Quo Vadis I.’

The Pope of the Church of Rune. The head of the Quo Vadis family. She is the oldest among the very few extant classical saints. Literally a ‘living legend’ that has been alive for over 200 years, from the Warring States Period before the United Empire to the present.

‘Before he returned, he was a person I had only come across in history books.’

Pope Nabokov was already dead when he participated in the battle of extermination as a middle-aged man before Bikir returned.

Originally, it was widely believed that he was poisoned by Humbert, who was blinded by power.

But now that Humbert is missing, her life has been extended beyond what was originally meant to be.

‘The future has changed.’

That was the reason she was chosen as the biggest variable in this parent’s observation class.

How much help will Pope Nabokov be for the future of mankind?

It was something he had never experienced even before returning, so Bikir didn’t know about it either.

‘Seeing it in person like this… I don’t think it will be very helpful.’

The condition of Nabokov I, who I met in person, was not so good.

It is impossible to judge by appearance alone, but it seems that he has a small physique, dim eyes that cannot properly recognize objects in front of him, and a slight hint of dementia.

at that time.

“Water!

Pope Nabokov began to take offense.

She slammed Bikir on the head with a trembling hand.

Bikir fell silent for a moment at the attack, which had no power.

‘…… Among the comrades who crossed the frontline of destruction together, those who were priests always lamented whenever they had a chance. ‘If Pope Nabokov had been alive, the human union would not have been pushed this far.’

Of course, Bikir at that time did not believe in anything unless he had experienced it himself.

However, no matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t feel any strength or power from the old man with dementia in front of me.

His momentum is completely different from when he met Count Cain Corso, who was of a similar age.

Eventually, Bikir shook his head with a small sigh.

“If it’s a drinking fountain, it’s over here. Let’s get some water.”

“I’m thirsty, inspiration. Please wake up quickly!”

Bikir took Nabokov to the drinking fountain in front of him.

A drinking fountain in the shape of a large jar was filled with clear water, and gourds were hung next to it.

It looks like an ordinary water dispenser.

Bikir caught one of them.

The moment you think of clear water with it.

…sluruk!

Water started leaking under the gourd. It’s because there was a hole in the floor.

“Oops. It’s leaking. I’ll float it with another one.”

The moment Bikir puts down the gourd and tries to pick up another gourd.

Plop –

The gourd sank into the water.

“?”

When Bikir turned his head, he saw Nabokov, who had come to his side, tossing a gourd that had cracked on the floor into a pitcher of water.

“It won’t leak like this.”

“…”

Nabokov was laughing all the way, and Bikir looked at Nabokov like that.

There was no water leaking from the cracked gourd. It’s because it’s completely submerged in the water.

Nabokov said to Bikir.

“Inspiration. Anything natural is best.”

“……Natural thing? What is it?”

“Natural is natural, so what? You have to let me know?”

Nabokov’s eyes are benevolently bent as he peers into Bikir’s face.

“The answer is to leave the cracked or holed floor as it is. If you embrace and embrace it with something bigger, you can fill in any number of holes and leaks in the floor. Holholhol-” But

“But can’t you drink it like this?”

Nabokov responded to Bikir’s words. and widen your eyes.

“If you do this, the gourd will sink to the bottom of the water and you won’t be able to drink it.”

“Ehh? That’s what…”

“And since it’s drinking water that everyone drinks together, you shouldn’t do this unsanitary thing.”

“…”

When Nabokov had nothing to say, his mouth half-open.

“The Pope!”

Dolores could be seen running in the distance.

Behind him, Mozgus with a contemplative expression was also coming along.

“Pope! You are here! Ten years have passed!”

“All round…”

Mozgus came quickly and carried Nabokov on his back.

“What about Luther?”

“Unfortunately, you couldn’t come because there was a performance for the elderly living alone today.”

“Eh- that’s like him.”

“Did you come here to drink water? Shall we pour a glass for you?”

“It’s okay. Don’t eat.”

“Then why are you here…”

Nabokov looked away from the bewildered Mozgus and looked back at Vikir.

Bikir standing still and Dolores squirming beside him.

Nabokov’s gaze at the two of them curved once again in benevolence.

“Don’t try to forcefully fill the gap. It’s best to embrace everything naturally.”

“?”

“Thank you, young man. Thanks to you, I can go safely.”

After Nabokov finished speaking, he patted Mozgus on the shoulder.

A cracked gourd that had sunk in the water jar was filled with water behind her as she turned around after leaving an incomprehensible word.

* * *

“…”

Vikir and Dolores were left alone.

“Goodbye Samchun!”

Because even the Pomerian had just taken Nabokov’s hand and left.

…

After a little silence.

“Um. There…”

Dolores was the first to speak.

“Looking at it earlier, I think you said something about filling the cracked basket with water. The Pope has been a bit distracted lately. Don’t pay attention too much. He’s been saying a lot of crazy things lately…

” Dolores seems to be pondering what Nabokov had just said.

‘You should be able to freely handle the ‘resonance’ phenomenon that you felt when you applied the blessing buff to the Hound of the Night. To do so, the Pope’s advice is essential.’

Pope. Among the classical saints, she is the oldest and possesses noble divine power.

‘The kinky classical saints often talked about awakening in the past. At that time, don’t think of it as an absurd nagging, but listen to it a little more.’

This is also the part I felt clearly when fighting Dantalian.

Ever since then, Dolores has been needing Nabokov’s advice to be a little more helpful to the Night Hound.

Although Nabokov was showing symptoms of dementia, he received little advice.

Dolores rubbed her chin with a serious expression.

She recalled what had happened during the recent fight with Belial.

‘I don’t have to work too hard alone. Because they’re colleagues.’

Suddenly, she cried and laughed at the words of the night hound.

The moment he acknowledged himself as a colleague, a hot flame rose from the inside of his chest.

However, compared to the resonance phenomenon felt during the fight with Dantalian, it was a world difference, so Dolores mustered up the courage to ask.

‘Night Hound! Please tell me your name!’

Dolores asked for a name in order to understand him a little more deeply in order to close the distance with the night hound.

‘In order to increase divine power, the ‘resonance’ phenomenon at that time is necessary! It’s okay even if it’s not a full name! Could you give me even the tiniest nickname I could call you… just a fragment of your name?’

……Of course, there was also a bit of selfishness in it.

And then, for the first time, I heard a fragment of his name.

‘……half.’

His name I was so curious about.

The touch of the hot breath, which I still remember clearly, made Dolores’ ears red again.

Tongseongmyeong (Tongseongmyeong). The process of getting to know each other through each other’s name.

There was indeed a mysterious power in the name.

Just by hearing it, Dolores was able to lead her weary body and create amazing miracles.

‘All right! That’s Okay!’

A phenomenon that cannot be done to anyone else and cannot be explained.

A miracle that only happens when you are with the hound of the night… no, ‘Van’.

When Dolores remembered that moment, she felt her heart beat faster again.

At the same time, the head turns quickly.

‘At that time, when I heard the name ‘Ban’, which is part of Night Hound’s name, the resonance range increased dramatically. Perhaps the distance between the two was the problem. The closer the distance is, the stronger the effect of the divine buff is. What should I do to further reduce the distance between the night hound and myself? What can I do to make the resonance a little stronger…’

The Hound of the Night and Dolores. The gap between the two is still wide.

As long as there is this gap, Dolores’ divine power cannot perfectly resonate with the soul of the night hound.

soul mate. A factor for the saintess to awaken.

For the resonance of the soul, there must be assimilation of emotions, and that is possible only when there is mutual understanding.

Dolores wanted to know more about the character of the Night Hound.

They understood his fate, sympathized with his pain, and were prepared to sacrifice for him.

Is that why? Dolores was also impatient.

The more impatient you are, the more difficult the road ahead becomes. It is the same with dreams, hopes, the future, and human relationships.

‘Night Hound. i want to know more about you I want to meet you.’

His expression was so determined that reporters in the past misunderstood it as declaring a ‘holy war’.

Now I even feel pity.

Right then.

[……yes! With this, the final winner of the sophomore ranking match has been decided! Now, the long-awaited 3rd grade is next! This is the final ranking match to determine the 3rd year senior!]

I heard a broadcast looking for 3rd year finalists from far away at the gymnasium.

Dolores said frantically.

“Ah! Bi Bikir! Hey. Actually, I came to you because I had something to say. Oh, on the contrary, I ran out of time.”

“I was thinking of going down too. Let’s talk as we go.”

“Uh, would you? Thanks. Actually, it’s about Sinclair. I’d like to talk to her, but I was wondering if you could arrange a meeting…”

Vikir nodded her head at Dolores’ words.

‘Perhaps even if we talk, there won’t be much gain.’

Sinclair’s will already seemed determined. It probably won’t change with a few words around.

So instead of focusing on Dolores’ words, Bikir was looking at other things.

‘……Trees and magic stones.’

Street trees planted densely all along the road leading down to the gymnasium, and magic walls rising along the outer wall of the academy.

Bikir scanned them with a sharp gaze.