The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 287: Power inflation (7)

"What is this, a dream?"

Sinclair looked around with a trembling gaze.

Bartolomeo with his eyes open and a giant demonic figure floating above him.

The demon's opponents are Night Hound and St. Dolores, holding hands.

??

Sinclair just kept blinking as if he couldn't believe the current situation.

Dolores was very puzzled.

'Why is Sinclair here! Surely she must have drunk the tea with the sleeping pills!'

She asked, trying to stay calm.

"Sinclair, are you okay? From the looks of it, you've been poisoned with sleeping pills...."

"...Egh, I'm fine, ugh- I've just gotten a little tolerant from taking so many different types of sleeping pills on a daily basis."

Sinclair usually has a very tight schedule, including part-time work, school work, personal study, and extracurricular activities.

What she didn't realize was that she was taking multiple sleeping pills due to stress and had developed a very high tolerance to them.

However, even so, the efficacy of sleeping pills cannot be ignored.

Sinclair's eyes were still slightly open, as if she was half asleep.

"I was so sleepy that I stumbled and fell on top of an open crate, which must have been closed before I realized it, but what kind of situation is this? Um, I mean, what the hell is that, and Night Hound....?"

She asked, looking back and forth between Belial and Vikir.

Dolores gritted her teeth.

"Sinclair, I'll explain everything later, but for now, come here...."

But she didn't finish her sentence.

Belial laughed and raised a giant fist.

[It wouldn't be a bad idea to weed out useless relationships at this point. As of this time, all plays have ended.]

Bartolomeo's body snapped once more, and the terrifying magic exploded.

Sinclair's eyes narrowed at the sight of it.

Quack, quack, quack, quack!

Next. Belial's fist came slamming down on Sinclair.

Watching Belial's attack fall like a meteorite, Dolores cried out in horror.

"Si, Sinclair! No!"

She ran, maximizing her divine power, but it wasn't enough to keep up.

... but.

"...!"

Dolores gasped in surprise.

Boom, dududududu!

Sinclair had blocked Belial's fist.

Huge golden palms protruded from the floor and walls, blocking Belial's fist.

[...? What the hell is this].

Belial frowned at the unexpected interruption.

But it wasn't just any interruption.

Fufufufufufufuf!

Golden spikes sprouted from the back of the golden hand and pierced Belial's fist.

[!?]

As Belial quickly pulled his hand away, he began to notice changes in his surroundings.

Clatter!

Waves of gold coins.

Treasures piled high everywhere were rushing toward them in waves.

Not toward Belial, but toward Sinclair!

Criririring, clink, clink, clink!

The golden snakes were being sucked toward the hat Sinclair was holding in his hand.

Sinclair's mana was growing stronger and stronger as well.

'Money Hat'.

This was the prize Sinclair received for placing eighth in the University League.

'Hehe- money is power, so I'll have to make a lot of money to wear this hat.'

A hat that makes your magic stronger when you spend money on it.

Although it was worn here and there and the brim had teeth missing, it was an effective artifact.

Grururung!

Putting on the hat, Sinclair cast another spell.

The gold coins and bullion around her began to melt in the flames, then coalesced together to form a giant fist.

...BANG!

Belial's head turns again.

[Annoying].

Belial's pupils, which were as wide as those of a mountain goat, were young.

...Oof!

Bartolomeo's body moved.

The Balmung in his hand drew a strange trajectory and twisted like a snake with hundreds of joints.

"...Eugh!?"

Blood fountains burst out from all over the body.

Sinclair stepped back to avoid Bartolomeo, who swung his sword in front of her.

"Patriarch!? Why are you like this! Ugh!?"

She cries out in confusion as if she recognizes Bartolomeo's face.

Dolores, seeing it, shouts.

"Sinclair, he's not the patriarch of the Bourgeois family, he's just a puppet whose body was taken over by the demon long ago!"

"No!? That's not possible. A demon?"

"Please believe me...!?"

But this time, Dolores couldn't finish her sentence.

...Bam!

Vikir, flying on Madame's wire, soared upward with Sinclair around her waist.

Boom!

The area where Sinclair was standing just a moment ago was devastated by Bartolomeo's strike.

"Boom!"

Sinclair flinched when she saw the face of the person who had grabbed her.

Night Hound. His eyes glowed a grim red from the slits in his mask.

"Hey, get off me! Villain!"

She quickly drew up her mana, but she'd already used up too much of it just a moment ago, creating and maneuvering her giant golden hand.

'Eating money makes me stronger, but there's a limit to how fast I can eat.'

Vikir set the struggling Sinclair back down on the ground.

"...?"

The unexpectedly polite landing stunned Sinclair for a moment.

Vikir purposely scratched his voice harder and spoke in short bursts.

"There's no point in getting involved. If you get taken hostage for no reason, I'll be in trouble, so stay back."

"...Hostage? Trouble?"

Sinclair looked confused.

She quickly calmed her breathing.

The way her eyes suddenly become harsh is truly the attitude of a genius.

"If they took me hostage, so why should you, the 'Night Hound', be in trouble? Do you know me?"

"...."

"It doesn't mean that you are on the side of justice right now. Then why did you save me? Bait to divert attention? Who made Mr. Bartolomeo like that? Is that you? What is your connection with President Dolores?"

Sinclair's nonstop barrage of questions was calm and sharp, but with a slight tremor at the end.

It was like a sword in the hands of an unwary child.

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

"The demon is absolute evil. You wouldn't be so stupid as to not know that, right?"

"I can't believe you treat me like a child... There doesn't seem to be much difference in age..."

"Being the opposite of absolute evil doesn't necessarily make you good, but at least you'll know which side you're on when it comes down to it."

"...."

"What you choose to see, what you choose to believe, and what choices you choose to make are entirely up to you."

It's about "not getting entangled" in the first place.

There's no need to persuade, there's no need to impress. Just follow your own path.

Having finished, Vikir turned his head.

And in front of him, a wide-eyed Bartolomeo was running towards him, holding the magic sword Balmung.

Jzzz-ugh!

Vikir slashed at Bartolomeo's right hand with his sword.

And it even left deep scars on the body of Belial beyond that.

[Grunts, but it's no use!]

Belial cried out in pain, but only for a moment, and then he absorbed the gold and silver treasures around him to regenerate his wounds.

So much wealth, so much greed!

As long as there is money and people want it, value is eternal.

Belial feeds on money, value, and greed, and enjoys unlimited life and power!

But Vikir did not give up.

"I'm coming."

"I've got your back!"

Vikir lays down his sword to level it and Dolores grants protection from behind.

And then.

... Flash!

With a dazzling light, eight teeth engulfed in white flame bite the whole world.

Baskerville 8th Form. Perfect state.

It ferociously slashed at Belial's entire body.

[Ghahahahaha! It's no use! As long as the money in the vault doesn't dry up, I can recover as much as I want!]

Belial laughed out loud, despite the wounds and pain shooting through his body.

And then.

Chirrrrrrrrrrr! Clink Clink!

Another clatter of gold coins.

Belial sucked in a huge amount of money.

[How is it? The infinite and eternal power of this body...!]

However.

[...?]

Belial couldn't help but stop laugh.

As expected, even after absorbing such a vast amount of wealth, his physical strength had not been fully restored.

[Huh? What is this? What's going on?]

Belial looked down at the gold coins, banknotes, jewelry, and bundles of money that were being sucked into his body.

They were clearly accumulating in his body, but strangely, the rate at which his health was recovering was getting slower and slower.

The volume and weight of his riches remained the same.

However, the resulting recovery gradually decreased noticeably, and in the end, it became virtually ineffective.

[???]

Belial stared in disbelief at the deep scars that still marked every inch of his body.

And ahead of him.

"It's about time."

Vikir took a step forward.

"Do you wonder why your recovery has been so slow?"

Vikir asked Belial, who looked puzzled.

With that, Vikir took out a piece of paper from his pocket and flew it towards Belial.

[...!?]

Belial's eyes widened as if torn apart.

[URGENT BREAKING NEWS] Mysterious Currency Dropped in Imperial City, Counterfeit Bills or a Sign of Hyperinflation?

-Yesterday evening, a large amount of mysterious money was dispersed in the skies of the Imperial Capital...

The unidentified gold coins and bills, which were contained within a giant balloon, poured down like a shower all over the empire, regardless of time and place...

Citizens are nervous, not knowing if the money is counterfeit or if there really is a lot of money unleashed on the market, and economic experts fear a short-term loss of trust in the unredeemable currency...

That was the article in the morning paper, scheduled to be published tomorrow morning.