Episode 459 Infiltration of the Water Source (6)

A black barracks sits atop an dirt mountain.

In the center of the barracks was a giant pot, and two giant snakes were coiling inside.

The two snakes circled around each other, biting each other’s tails.

Each time the snakes circled the pot, a pool of poisonous fluid would pool in the center.

The poison is then heated by the wood fire burning beneath the pot, bringing it to a boil and releasing a thick cloud of red vapor.



[Kiiiik! Kkeueugh!]

The poisonous people are lined up one by one inside the barracks, smoked by the red steam rising from the pot.

udeudeug! udeug! ppagagag!

The poisonous people, who were about to die, are instantly energized by the red vapor.

Some were so energized that their bodies became bizarrely shaped.

And there is one figure sitting on a throne at the top, watching all of this.


He wears a black robe that covers his entire body, and a large scythe on his back.

He is known as the Harvester to the Night Walkers.

A mysterious person who stands at the forefront of this Tochka annihilation battle, and especially at the forefront.

The Harvester silently watched as countless poisonous people were reborn from the red mist of death.

Just then.


Something happened.

One side of the barracks was torn to shreds, and a strange figure broke in from outside.


As soon as he entered, he immediately cut off the heads of the poisonous people around him.

Dozens of poisonous people were left with their heads rolling on the ground, unable to resist.


Harvester jumped to his feet.

The amount of poison, manpower, and time that went into making a single proper poisonous soldier was staggering.

They shouldn’t have to die like this.

The Harvester came down the stairs as if he was flying, and immediately swung his scythe and slashed at the assailant.


A strange man blocks the Harvester’s scythe with a ragged iron sword that looks like he picked it up somewhere.

For a moment, the Harvester flinched.

He instantly recognized the intruder.

Vikir Van Baskerville, Night Hound. The greatest villain of all time, imprisoned in Nouvelle Vague long ago.

……, so why would he appear here at this moment?

Vikir’s red eyes flashed at the Harvester before him.

ttaang- kkadeudeudeudeug!

The iron sword pushes away the scythe, creating a pile of sparks.

The cheap iron sword lost countless of its teeth just by colliding with the scythe once, turning it into a lump.

But Vikir continued to swing his iron sword.

kkang! kkaang- ttang! ttaang-

The recklessness of the attack was enough to make even the Harvester cringe.

But this was the headquarters of the Leviathan Family, a place with countless poisonous people.


The giant poisonous people reached out toward Vikir.

Each one of them is a monster with a grip that can distort even a cast iron pot.

Vikir swung his iron sword, which was now almost like a saw blade, and cut off their limbs.

ppudeudeug- ppudeug- ppagagag! udeug!

Pieces of flesh and bone fragments with uneven cut edges scatter here and there in the air.

There was even a sense of madness in Vikir’s sword slashing.

…… but in the end, he’s outnumbered.

Even Vikir had no choice but to succumb to the onslaught of the poisonous people, who used the corpses of their comrades as shields.


The palm of one of the poisonous people slammed into Vikir’s face.

peoeog! peoeog!

Another palm on top of it.

peoeog! peoeog! peoeog! peoeog! peoeog! peoeog……!

Above it, More and more palms covered Vikir’s face.

Crushed by countless poisonous hands, Vikir finally died, his entire body horribly mutilated.

The poisonous people tore Vikir’s body to shreds in a frenzy.

And then.


Vikir’s body was reduced to its upper half, rolling across the floor like garbage.

The Harvester looked down at Vikir’s body on the ground.


Then, he reached out with a pale hand and gently brushed a hand across Vikir’s empty eyes.


Just then.


The upper half of Vikir’s body, which had been thought to be dead, jerked up and bit down on the Harvester’s hand with his teeth.


The moment the Harvester is startled and puts his hands back.


The wall right behind the Harvester’s back was torn apart.

The barracks shook once, and again, countless poisonous people died in a torrent.


Harvester quickly turned his head.

There was an unbelievable sight.

Vikir. Vikir Van Baskerville.

The man who had been killed by the poisonous people just moments before was alive and well.


With a fluttering sound, Vikir began to destroy the poisonous people, wielding a spear that seemed to have been picked up from nowhere.

Precise, powerful thrusts ripped open vital organs, including the faces and chests of the poisonous people.

Another splash of blood and flesh rippled through the barracks.

The Harvester hesitated for a moment, then threw himself forward to block Vikir.


A winding scythe flew out from the hilt, knocking Vikir’s spear out of his hand.

The poisonous palms of the poisonous people followed through on Vikir’s now-empty abdomen.


Once again, Vikir was slain by a combined assault of the Poisonous People and Scythe of the Harvester.



The wall of the barracks tore open again, and beyond it, Vikir appeared.

Vikir. Vikir. Vikir. Another Vikir.

More Vikir appeared, tearing apart the poisonous people.

They ravaged the barracks, and the moonlight shining through the dark clouds illuminated the interior.

It was only then that the Harvester noticed something strange about the vikirs who tore through the curtain.

Black hair, red eyes. But their skin color is different.

All of the Vikir’s skin is as black as obsidian.

The barracks was dark, and the glow of the dark red mist rising from the center of the barracks made it hard to see.

peopeong! kwakwakwang! ujijig!

Each of the Vikirs was fierce and vicious, and they could manipulate their weapons like limbs.

Before their inhuman combat power, a violence that questioned whether they were even living creatures at all, the poisonous people were being torn apart like wet leaves.


In the end, the rampage of countless Vikirs destroyed the pot in the center of the barracks.

The two snakes inside scurried back into the corners, and the thick red mist that had been rising was cut off.

jjeoeog- peog! deng-geong-

The Harvester, who had been swinging his scythe to slice and dice the bodies of the Vikirs, was greatly embarrassed when he saw that the pot had been broken.

So were the poisonous people gathered outside the barracks.


The Harvester rushed out of the barracks and looked around, but there was no sign of Vikir’s true form.

peopeong! kwang! kuleuleuleug!

All he could hear was the flames raging throughout the barracks, and the noise of the black Vikir rushing about.

* * *

Hours ago.

Vikir opened Andromalius’ barrier beneath the Bloodstorm.

What poured out from within were tiny creatures that looked exactly like Vikir.

Doppelganger leeches.

The leeches Vikir had taken from Black Tongue when he left Nouvelle Vague had grown.

“Oh, my, how cute. What are they?”

“Mmmm- definitely, they look like something I’d want to take home and raise.”

“……Brother, where did you get your children from? Isn’t it?”

“Dude, are these really leeches? They look so much like you.”

“Even though I saw it once in Hell Tree last time, I still can’t get used to it.”

“Maybe it’s because he grew up drinking Vikir’s blood, but he looks exactly like Vikir. Just put on the clothes I brought and it’ll be perfect!”

“Wow, now that you’ve dressed him up, he looks exactly the same. That must be very confusing for the enemies…….”

Camus, Dolores, Sinclair, Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, and Bianca, all of them, at one point or another, admired Vikir’s look-alike miniatures.

Except for one thing: skin color.

“Here, eat.”

Vikir fed the leeches a large amount of blood, more than he had ever given them before.

The leeches grow strong after drinking the blood shed by Vikir.

Vikir then set the leeches loose in the center of the poisonous barracks.

The leeches, viciously modified by Black Tongue, went on a mad rampage, began to run wild, attracted by the smell of blood and death coming from everywhere.

“……Well, it was worth the effort.”

Vikir nodded as he watched a significant number of the leeches charge toward the barracks on the dirt mountain.

“Boyfriend, ignition complete!”

In the distance, he could see Camus waving.

Vikir also nodded his head and gave a signal.

Camus understood Vikir’s signal and unleashed her mana.


Flames and iron skewers erupted from beneath the dirt mountain.

The poisonous soldiers descending the slope were halted in their tracks, their feet and stomachs pierced by a succession of iron skewers.

The flames began to spread in all directions, using the barracks and the struggling poisonous people as firewood.


Vikir turned his head to see that the flames had even reached the storehouses of rations for the common soldiers.

Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, Bianca, Sinclair, and Dolores, who had succeeded in moving the fire from the front, were also signaling that their mission was complete.

Vikir and Camus quickly joined them.

“We’re headed straight for the water source.”

If they could just get to the peak behind them, blow up one side of the lake, and divert the water, everything would be fine.

Not only would they have water, but they’d be able to wipe out Leviathan’s forces in one fell swoop.

‘Perhaps this will be the last mission.’

Vikir ran quickly towards the shadow of the ridge in front of him.

It was the final finish line, where the fate of Tochka lay.