Revenge of the Iron-blooded Sword Hound

Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound Chapter 423

Chapter 423: How to Live as a Wandering Knight (2)

Bwoo-oo-oo-

The conch shell sounded, signaling a monster attack.

The entire village was on high alert.

This wasn’t a matter of bandits appearing or a wildfire spreading. The threat wasn’t human but monsters, and it wasn’t a matter of losing valuables or food—it was a matter of immediate survival.

Moreover, the type of monster crossing the wooden barriers this time was gnolls, notorious for their large numbers and vicious nature.

Grrrr……

Soon, strange creatures began flooding into the town.

A voice that seemed to bubble up slowly from low temperatures.

The noise of claws scraping against dried, parched earth.

Hunched backs, awkward bipedal movements, sharp teeth, and claws with eyes gleaming ominously.

A pack of gnolls, one of the most harmful species to humans, had invaded the village.

They, too, seemed to be suffering from extreme hunger, their fur dry and dull.

Their eyes were bloodshot, and the drool dripping from their mouths hinted at a sticky greed.

Even monsters were worn out and weary from the unprecedented famine.

Continuous droughts had left nothing to eat or drink, and the widespread wildfires across the empire had drastically shrunk their habitats.

Lower-level monsters, unable to compete for food with other monsters, could no longer sustain their exploding populations and were inevitably driven to human settlements.

The gnolls here were swept along by this tide of fate.

Kyaaaak-

One gnoll began ransacking a house.

Fabric was torn, wood shattered. Everything touched by human hands was being ravaged.

The gnoll kept sniffing the ground, tracking the freshest scents.

Then.

…Bang!

The closet door burst open, and a person sprang out.

“G-get away!”

A man swung a pitchfork down on the gnoll’s head.

Screeech-

The gnoll collapsed on the spot, its skull crushed.

The problem was the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth gnoll… so many that counting became meaningless.

“Honey! Run to the back door! Head to the underground cellar in the backyard!”

As soon as the man finished shouting, a woman burst through a side door with three children.

The man quickly followed, staying close to the woman, brandishing the pitchfork to ward off the excited gnolls.

The backyard. The door to the underground cellar was in sight.

The man hurriedly opened the door, and he and the woman rushed inside.

Then.

“Waaah- Mom!”

A scream erupted from behind.

Before the man and woman could turn around, they knew whose scream it was.

Only two children had made it into the underground bunker; turning their heads, they saw a girl who had fallen to the ground and was just getting up.

Her clothes were torn at the side, and it was clear that blood was staining them red.

“BABY!!!!!”

The man shouted, but it was already too late.

If they went out now, everyone would die. Closing this door as soon as possible was the only way to protect his wife and the remaining two children.

What must it feel like for parents to have to give up their child right before their eyes?

“……”

The man and the woman pondered. Chewing their lips as if unaware of the blood, they made a decision that would undoubtedly be regretted for the rest of their lives, no matter how many times they reconsidered it in that brief moment.

…Bang!

The door closed. Reality was always inevitable. This closed door was no exception.

The girl cried and crawled, scratching at the door desperately until her nails were worn down.

He should have properly hammered the nail back into place on the side of the front door, just as he always nagged about.

If he had, maybe the girl wouldn’t have gotten caught on the nail just now.

But regrets, no matter how swift, are always too late.

The girl cried out.

“Mom! Dad! Please open it! I’ll be good from now on! I won’t cry, I’ll eat just a little, I’ll clean diligently, I won’t fight with my older brothers…!”

But cruelly, the response to her plea was not from her parents, but from the gnoll pack surging behind her.

Kraaaw-

The lead gnoll charged toward the girl.

Just as the girl was about to scream.

Thwack-

The pitchfork plunged into the gnoll’s mouth.

“Baby! Go Quickly!”

The man who had suddenly opened the door was now facing the gnoll pack.

The woman, too, emerged holding chunks of brick from the wall of the cellar, eyeing the gnolls.

Fathers are strong. Of course, mothers are too.

“Dad! Mom!”

The girl, tears streaming down her face, ran backward.

The father raised the pitchfork to face the gnoll pack.

But no matter how strong parents are, they are not stronger than the world.

Soon, gnolls baring their teeth and claws charged at them.

Thunk-

With the sound of thick leather pants tearing, droplets of blood sprayed.

It was the moment a family’s downfall began.

…Right at that moment.

Thwack-

The father’s step lightened.

The gnoll’s head, chewing on his legs, shattered like a smashed watermelon into pieces.

“……Huh?”

The father’s dazed gaze turned forward.

Flutter-

A cloak, as dark as night even in the dry wind, fluttered.

A black, gleaming suit of armor emitted an unpleasant metallic sound.

A wandering knight. Somewhere, out of nowhere, he stood tall before the gnoll pack.

“……Excuse me, who might you be?”

The father asked, but the wandering knight did not answer.

Only.

Thunk-

He merely shifted the long spear that had been slung over his back into his hand.

Swish! Thud!

The heads of the nearby gnolls all exploded.

Within the torn bandage pieces, crimson blades were revealed.

Soon a sticky honey like aura spread out, symbolizing that the man ahead was a Graduator.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

Efficient movements, with no wasted motion.

The expertise born from countless battles.

Then, the hood was removed, revealing the face of the wandering knight.

Though youthful, there was an air of experience, blending two qualities that don’t usually coexist: ruggedness and grace.

His shoulders were broad like a bear’s, waist slender like a wolf’s.

Apart from the missing left arm, one could say his physique was optimized for combat.

With his lone arm, he exhibited a ghostly mastery of the spear.

With each movement of the spear, at least one gnoll fell, often more.

Thwack! Thud! Crack! Thud-thwack!

The sound of flesh and bone being crushed simultaneously. The backyard turned into a bloodbath in an instant.

But no more did the messy cries of gnolls resound.

The one-armed wandering knight, having neatly disposed of the monster pack, wiped the blood off his spear.

Then, there was a hand swiftly opening the door of the underground cellar.

It was the little girl who had almost failed to get inside just moments ago.

She asked the wandering knight, “Sir! Who are you?”

“……”

“My name is ‘Shammua’! Please tell me your name, sir?”

The wandering knight turned to look at the girl.

Whether it was because he lacked fear or because he possessed strong gratitude, the girl, with tears dried up, now looked at him with a gaze filled with admiration and curiosity.

Before the wandering knight could speak, though.

Kraaaw-

Growling echoed from outside the fence.

Clang! Clang!

It was clear the situation was far from over.

The wandering knight cast aside his brief respite and stood once more, facing the threat head-on.

And then.

Crackle!

The wooden fence broke, and a gigantic figure stormed into the backyard.

Bigger than your average gnoll by threefold, its fur, stiff and erect, was strangely tinged with black-green.

Oily droplets oozed from its bloodshot eyes, emitting a foul stench with each drop.

[Poison Gnoll]

Threat Level: A

Size: 3m

Sighting: Throughout the continent

– Also known as ‘Poison Gnoll’

A variant of gnoll with abnormally evolved digestive abilities. While most gnolls survive by eating corpses, Poison Gnolls possess the ability to accumulate toxins emitted from decomposing flesh in their skin or saliva.

Distributed throughout gnoll colonies at a rate of one per every 300 individuals, Poison Gnolls often seem to play the role of leaders.

Poison Gnolls, a variant of gnolls, boast incomparable strength and ferocity.

The family, thinking it was safe to come out, froze in terror at the monstrous presence of the Poison Gnoll.

But the one-armed wandering knight just dryly chuckled.

“…A Poison Gnoll. Haven’t seen one in a while.”

His voice was dry, brief.

He emitted a blue aura that shimmered like a tidal wave with his lone arm.

There was no movement in the spear he tightly held.

The wandering knight spoke to the little girl, just as she was about to close the door.

“Affiliation: Vigilantes ‘Night Walkers.’ Alias is somewhat diminished, but ‘Knight of the Night.\'”

“……!”

The girl’s ears perked up.

The Night Walkers, a group rumored among the people nowadays.

The one-armed wandering knight, or the ‘Knight of the Night,’ smirked wickedly at the girl and winked with one eye.

“My name’s Tudor.”

Then, when he turned his head forward again, his expression was impeccably cold and distant.

“No surname.”