The bag opened wide.
What erged was a face—the face of Vikil's lover.
"...!"
At that mont, I saw her face.
Dolores could only stare blankly.
"Isn't there anyone?"
Yes, that's it.
The bag was empty.
Nothing. There is nothing.
Dantalian is only getting more confused.
[Nonsense! Humans are animals that live in love! No, not only humans, but all animals have romantic feelings! But what on earth is that?
But Dantalian's words were interrupted.
...pull it!
Vikir's sword appeared when he threw away the black bag, and it cut into his chest.
[Thud!?]
Dantalian stepped back while coughing up black blood.
All thirty-six faces contorted in disbelief.
Maybe magic isn't activated?
Is that the reason why my face doesn't co out of the bag?
Unfortunately, Dantalian's hopes were dashed.
The spell was being cast as usual, and the huge mana cost of the spell and the massive knockback damage caused by the spell's destruction continued to damage Dantalian's body.
Furthermore, Vikiel continued to stab Dantalian over and over again with his deadly sword, even as he buried himself in Dantalian's defenseless embrace.
Puff, puff, puff, puff!
It had a dense aura, as if sothing solid had flowed into it.
It pierced flesh like an animal's teeth, crushing bones and cutting through internal organs.
A boiling aura erges from his teeth like a snake, and it gnaws at his soul.
There is nothing to look for, not even in the devil's body.
[Aaaaa...! ]
Dantalian angrily backed away, clutching his torn stomach.
Blood, flesh, and entrails dripped down, covering the ground like asphalt.
[No way! Is it possible that a person has never loved another person in his or her entire life? [There are no such things as humans!]
"Here we are."
Vikir answered simply and dryly.
Vikil was taught from an early age to always keep his emotions in check, so he grew up straight and never slouched.
In a sense, this straightness may have been a kind of crookedness, but he didn't know that at the ti.
A killing machine that has all emotions removed and is controlled only by commands. The dog of death
This was Vikiel van Baskerville in a previous life.
A ti when everything was fleeting.
Was there room for love in a dog whose emotions had worn down and withered after being bombarded by more than 500 dogs, large and small? Was there soone who taught him how to love?
"..."
And Dolores, who was standing behind him, could vaguely imagine Vikiel's reasoning.
The more Vikiel opened up his aura, the more he felt the sll of life and the resonance of his soul.
Priests deeply feel their souls in the process of praying, healing, and strengthening others.
You are influenced by these emotions and sotis even beco assimilated to them.
Dolores rembered the words she once heard from Nighthound.
"Theology is the science of understanding human beings."
At the ti, she didn't fully understand the true aning of those words, but now she understands why.
At that mont, Dolores felt more sympathy for Nighthound's feelings and condition than anyone else.
"What kind of life did he lead? How great was the burden he carried alone? How long has he been fighting this lonely, lonely battle?"
She only recently learned of the Night Hound as a terrorist.
The newspaper club she belonged to even gave her a ``villain's na.''
... But it's different.
He was a warrior who fought against the evils of this world before anyone else.
A prophet who was persecuted by the world, understood by everyone, and loved by no one during his lifeti.
How far does he stand, and how far does he see?
How alone, how heavy, how sick, and how hurt is he?
Suddenly, warm tears wet the corners of her eyes.
Dolores wanted to stand behind or next to him as a human being.
Walk with him and not only follow his path, but be his strength.
It's like the legend of a monk who went on a long journey with his warriors to subjugate the demon king.
I wanted to stand next to him, hug him, and comfort his broken soul.
I wanted to wrap my arms around his spiny legs and hold him tight.
I wanted to hold his cut hand.
I just wanted to let you know that you are never alone.
... But Dolores knew that too.
Nighthound was never one to depend on others.
He never took sides with others.
He does not rely on or depend on others.
He always stands alone and moves forward.
Even if it is a path of thorns, a path of blood and gore,.
Dolores felt more pity for him as she ca to understand his soul better through his temporary and partial assimilation.
She knows deep down that the person she wants to co to her will never co to her.
But what a painful, tortured, crazy feeling it is for a woman who knows but can't help but wait.
... But she wasn't the only one who was tired of waiting.
[AAAAAAAAAH!?]
Dantalian.
He is really sick and suffering.
The devil, who had been sitting in an arrogant posture and mocking people, distorted his face and let out a scream.
Vikir grabbed Dantalian by the hair and wouldn't let go, stabbing him in many places with his sword.
Once a dog bites you, it won't let go. This is how they are trained.
Vikir tried to continue the close combat even as Dantalian's magic wave tore his body apart.
[Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! "
Dantalian took a random shard from Vikir's mory.
Vikir's mories are cold and full of sharp shards.
A dangerous being that even the devil Dantalian could cut off if he made one wrong move.
It was like looking for a bag full of swords and broken glass.
"... Shit. What kind of person lived such a life?"
Dantalian's hands turned into rags, and he picked up a fragnt of a warm mory.
He changed it into a face that he hoped would awaken the emotions of Vikir's family.
[Look at the faces of those who once cared for you.] [Can you stab like that?]
It happened to be part of the Baskerville set.
Set had been training in private for so long that even his family had forgotten his face, and Dolores could only shake his head when she saw it.
"Who are you?"
A handso man with white skin, thick eyebrows, and a sowhat aloof appearance.
His face was stunningly beautiful, but his skin was pale, giving him a sinister appearance.
"Is he related to the Night Hound?"
But Dolores didn't have ti to study and rember Set's face.
"Thank you for your encouragent."
Vikir's reaction was much faster.
He saw the look on Seto's face, and he beca even more excited than before the regression.
What was supposed to be one nudge turned into two nudges for him.
Pooh! Puff, puff, puff! Poo poo poo poo poo!
Set's face explodes after being hit repeatedly.
At the sa ti, Dantalian's entire body began to fall apart.
[Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! ]
A terrifying baptism of fire that tears apart even the souls of demons.
Well then.
[...Aaah! [Don't bully !]
One of Dantalian's many faces has changed.
Age to look like a teenager. beautiful blonde hair. White skin. Her slightly depressed eyes looked a little sad.
Around her neck is an old, raw gold chain with the word "Nymph" written on it.
Suddenly.
"...!"
Vikir froze.
Dantalian didn't know what had made Vikir stop, but he saw this as an opportunity.
[Fuck! ]
Countless faces scread, and purple tongues stuck out.
Dantalian sticks out his tongue like a blade, a veritable demon of discourse.
But.
Kurururu!
Dantalian's attack fails again.
Angered by the nymphet's expression, Dolores intervened by blowing out white flas again.
"I told you it was the wrong person."
Dolores burned the tip of Dantalian's tongue and imdiately jumped to the nighthound's side.
In her monts of crisis, she beca even more balanced and calm.
"?"
Vikir scratched his head, not understanding why Dolores had suddenly beco so brave.
Dolores then looked back at Vikir and said it with a determined look on her face.
``When things get tough, you can rely on .''
``??''
``??'' Vikir tilted his head again.
...Paa!
The white light emitted by Dolores instantly enveloped Vikiel's entire body.
"...!"
"...!"
At that mont, both Vikiel and Dolores felt the sa way.
Resonance of the soul.
It's the feeling you get when you walk the sa path together.
It was literally a connection that could only occur through the "resonance of souls."
And the mont it happened,.
...One flash!
The light emitted from Dolores' body exploded tenfold.
Awakened saint buff.
And the person who had the greatest influence on the saint's soul.
The only being who can awaken a saint.
Those with souls of the sa size.
Nighthound.
He is what St. Dolores identified as a "resonance of the soul."
Both consciously and unconsciously.
"...Oh?"
Dolores felt the strength drain from his body.
She exerted her divine powers with all her might until she could no longer even stand.
The vast amount of power released was imdiately absorbed into Vikir's body.
Blessed with natural talent, Dolores possessed imnse divine power.
Now that it has exploded tenfold, the resulting buff is no longer a normal buff.
The mont Dolores' enhancent entered his body.
Dawn!
Vikir felt as if the wall that had been towering over his head had been broken in one blow.
The high, solid wall that had long seed impenetrable has been torn down, and we can now see beyond.
Sword Master.
Kingdom of the Most High.
Superhuman realm.
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