Chapter 145 – Volunteering During the Golden Holidays (2)

“Um, excuse me…”

Sinclaire appeared out of nowhere and awkwardly addressed Vikir in polite language.
Sinclaire hesitated before speaking as Vikir stared at her, as if asking what was wrong.
“Um, Mr. Vikir, did you also apply for regular volunteer work here?”
“No.”
“Oh? So, what brings you here?”
“I’m here because of demerits.”
“Ah…”
Upon Vikir’s brief response, Sinclaire nodded her head.
“I’m planning to do regular volunteer work. I have to collect volunteer points, but still,
helping less fortunate neighbors makes me feel good and accomplished, you know?”
“I see.”
Vikir had no interest in Sinclaire’s personal life, so he nodded once and tried to leave.
However, Sinclaire continued to follow Vikir and talk.
“By the way, it’s quite a coincidence that we’ve been assigned to the same volunteer
location.”
“Is that so?”
“In fact, I saw someone submitting a volunteer application last week, but I never expected it
would be the same place.”
“I see.”
“Mr. Vikir…”
Despite Vikir’s short responses, Sinclaire kept smiling happily.
Vikir interrupted her words for a moment.
“Speak more casually. We’re about the same age.”
“Oh, um, actually, I’m 17 years old, so I’m a year younger than Mr. Vikir.”
“Doesn’t matter much.”
Vikir nodded his head, and Sinclaire’s expression brightened even more.
“Uh… well, I’ll speak more casually then!”
“Sure, let’s have a more relaxed conversation next time.”
Vikir thought he had ended the conversation smoothly and stood up.
He needed to clean the mop.
But Sinclaire, once again, followed Vikir closely.
Vikir entered the men’s restroom to get the mop, and while he was inside, Sinclaire stood in
front of the restroom door, staring at it as if she were waiting for Vikir.
“Fortunately, she didn’t follow me into the men’s restroom.”
Sinclaire patiently waited until Vikir finished cleaning the mop and came out of the restroom.
“Excuse me, but I saw you submitting a volunteer application during the holiday, so I thought
you were already managing volunteer points for academic purposes.”
“I was forced to submit it because I have too many demerits.”
“I see. I thought you were doing it willingly because you’re so good at studying.”
Sinclaire continued to talk and look at Vikir with admiration, despite his brief responses.
“By the way, how do you study?”
“How many hours do you study each day?”
“How do you balance your pre-study and review?”
“Did you get a copy of the new Magic Theory syllabus? Do you want me to show it to you?”
“What’s your major in the Cold Department?”
“Swords? Oh, the professor in charge of Swords in the Cold Department is excellent, right?”
“Last time, you got all the questions right on the Cold Department’s pop quiz. I got one
wrong. How did you solve that question? It was beyond an undergraduate level.”
“By the way, did you see the ‘Ethics in Anatomy’ question on the Biological Experiment A
pop quiz?” What are your thoughts on the debate over that question?”
“Uh, well… I have a lot of questions, but when the opportunity comes, I can’t seem to
remember them.”
“But how do you know everything so well? Did you receive early education?”
“No? Wow, you’re really impressive. So, which academies did you attend before entering
Colosseo academy?”
“Is it okay to ask questions like this? I’m not sure. If you don’t want to answer, you don’t
have to. I heard you’re from a commoner background, which region are you from?”
“Oh, but do you have poor eyesight? Your glasses look like they have a really high
prescription. Oh, it’s not that high? But why do you wear glasses?”
“Is your hairstyle intentional? Oh, you just let it grow as it is. Do you have any plans to cut
your bangs or push them back? Oh, you don’t?”
Overall, there were many questions related to study methods. Vikir answered in a dry tone
while quietly taking care of various chores like cleaning the hallway, doing laundry, and
disposing of garbage. Sinclaire also followed Vikir diligently, assisting with the tasks.
After finishing the chores, Sinclaire rummaged through her backpack and handed Vikir a
bottle of milk.
“Here, have this while you work!”
Vikir accepted the milk bottle and glanced at Sinclaire.
“…”
Sinclaire still wore her cheerful expression and looked at Vikir expectantly.
Seeing that she might continue to follow him around and be annoying all day, Vikir decided
to leave for a moment.
“I’ll have this. I’m leaving now.”
“Where are you going? I’ll help too!”
“To the… restroom.”
When Vikir mentioned the restroom, Sinclaire’s face turned bright red in an instant.
“Um, um… that might be a bit hard to help with. Hurry back!”
Sinclaire stood pressed against the wall of the restroom corridor, still speaking.
She seemed to be waiting until Vikir was done with whatever he needed to do inside the
restroom before continuing to follow him.
***
Vikir continued to be bombarded with questions, but he managed to send Sinclaire away to
another location, successfully leaving himself alone.
“Is it because she’s a model student that her academic enthusiasm is so impressive?”
With a bucket and mop in hand, Vikir exited to a quiet hallway. His plan during the volunteer
activity was to concentrate on exploring the building’s interior when everyone’s attention was
most distracted during mealtime.
Then, he unexpectedly encountered someone.
“…”
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
A girl who appeared to be in her early teens with beautiful blonde hair, fair skin, and slightly
sad-looking eyes stood before him. She wore a simple gold necklace with the word
‘Nymphet’ engraved on it.
Vikir offered the milk bottle that Sinclaire had given him.
“Do you want to drink this?”
“…”
The girl stared at Vikir intently.
He shook the bottle gently, causing the milk inside to swirl. The girl hesitated briefly, then
turned and swiftly ran down the hallway.
Vikir nonchalantly put the milk bottle back in his pocket.
At that moment, a voice came from behind him.
“Her name is Nymphet.”
Turning around, Vikir saw Dolores, who held a knitting basket and dolls. She was the
academy’s student council president, head of the newspaper department, and also known as
the saint of Quovadis. She volunteered here every weekend.
Dolores narrowed her eyes and asked Vikir with a stern gaze, “Are you working hard on your
volunteer activity? You need to work hard to make up for those demerits.”
“I am working hard,” Vikir replied.
“Good.”
Dolores nodded and continued to observe Vikir with her severe and strict gaze.
“It’s better not to show hasty kindness to that girl.”
“…”
Confused, Vikir tilted his head, prompting Dolores to explain further.
“She was born here. She’s been here for the past thirteen years, witnessing countless
volunteer students coming to the orphanage.”
“…”
“At first, she used to get along with the volunteer students, calling them older sisters and
brothers.”
“…”
“But as time went on, those older sisters and brothers gradually distanced themselves. It’s
unavoidable. They have to study more as they progress through their grades, and they also
have to graduate and find jobs. I have to do the same.”
Vikir listened to Dolores’s explanation attentively.
“1 out of 100 1st-year volunteers continues to volunteer even after becoming 3rd-years. Some
may stop completely after graduation or getting a job. So, the kids in the orphanage don’t
easily open their hearts to volunteers. To volunteers, these kids are just a part of accumulating
volunteer points, but to these kids, the volunteers mean a lot.”
These words made sense. Most of the academy students came to volunteer here mainly to
earn points for their volunteer activities.
Dolores looked at Nymphet’s retreating figure with a saddened expression.
“Nymphet cuts off any bonds quickly but longs for them deeply, and gets tired of saying
goodbye forever. So, she promised not to give her affection to outsiders.”
“I see,” Vikir replied.
“However, every time she meets someone new, she becomes more guarded, and eventually,
she stopped speaking altogether. It’s as if she put all her expectations on others and got hurt. I
wish she didn’t see the world so cynically.”
Dolores seemed upset as she spoke about how Nymphet never acknowledged her greetings
even though she had been volunteering here for over three years.
At that moment, Vikir’s expression changed suddenly.
“Nymphet needs to regain her ability to speak soon. Since selective mutism is an ailment
rooted in emotional pain, she needs warm love and attention from those around her… Ugh?!”
Dolores couldn’t finish her sentence. Vikir’s hand swiftly covered her mouth.
…Tuck!
Vikir pressed Dolores’s mouth tightly against a nook between two cabinets, a minor design
flaw in the hallway. It was tucked away with cabinets on both sides, and the shadowy
location made it hard to notice from the corridor.
“Ugh!?”
Dolores tried to push Vikir away and remove his hand from her mouth, but Vikir didn’t allow
it. Instead, he pushed her closer to the wall.
“Hush.”
Gradually, Vikir’s soft voice resonated in Dolores’s ear. She felt her mind becoming hazy.
‘???’
How did this happen so suddenly? No, wait, what was the situation from the beginning?
This was unquestionably the first time she had been this close to a man since her birth.
In this abrupt, rude, and… intimate(?) situation, her body froze in place.
“…”
Vikir, with narrowed eyes, surveyed the corridor. The muscles in his face involuntarily
tensed. A foul stench permeated the air.
Thud-thud-thud.
The sound of footsteps tapping on the marble floor.
A gentleman in his fifties, a devout religious follower, a successful businessman, and a caring
father. On the surface, he appeared perfectly normal, but beneath that mask, he exuded an
overwhelming odor of death.
The monster in question was none other than Vikir’s assassination target, “Quilt.”

Chapter 146: Volunteering During the Golden Holidays (3)

Quilt was a middle-aged man who looked quite distinguished. His appearance, resembling a
famous retired actor who disappeared a few years ago, shone brightly even from a distance.
Vikir muttered to himself, ”Demon.”
Although their faces were that of a human, their wicked essence was the same. The foul odor
that pierced the nose was undoubtedly a sign of the demon, albeit in a weaker state than
before his regression. What added to Vikir’s conviction was the presence of four shadows
surrounding Quilt as he walked.
Thud-thud-thud-thud.
Walking right behind Quilt was a burly man dressed in a suit, with a black Sack over his face.
He wore a golden nameplate on his chest, reading ‘Ephebo.’
Furthermore, there were two thin men flanking Quilt on either side, also wearing suits with
black sacks over their faces. Their nameplates read ‘Pedo’ and ‘Hebe,’.
The last shadow, walking in front of Quilt, was a woman with a commanding figure. She also
had her face concealed by a black sack-like cloth. Her nameplate on her chest read ‘Geronto.’
Three men and one woman. Vikir focused his attention on the man who was walking behind
Quilt.
“…Ephebo. It’s that guy from before.”
Vikir had crossed paths with him previously. They had met during an assassination mission.
Back then, he had almost captured him, but an unexpected explosion disrupted their plans,
allowing him to escape. Ephebo had been a high-level undead/demon at the time, making it
challenging to deal with him as he wielded Quovadis’s mace techniques.
Vikir held his breath and waited for Quilt to pass by.
Finally, Quilt, along with the four shadows, walked past Vikir’s hiding spot between the
cabinets.
At that moment…
[….]
Ephebo tilted his head slightly as if he were sniffing something. Vikir remained hidden
between the walls and cabinets, concealed in the shadowy gap.
[….]
Ephebo tilted his head a little more, focusing on Vikir’s direction.
Right then, Quilt’s voice came from the front, “Oh, nice to see you.”
Quilt, with a friendly smile, shook hands with a chubby man who had just appeared.
The chubby man also smiled warmly in response. “I’ve been so busy; it’s hard to find time to
meet you.”
“Well, there are so many nobles these days who want to confess their sins and request
interviews.”
“I’m no different, hahaha. But, speaking of which…”
The chubby man leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone, “I’d like to buy some ‘indulgences.'”
“Indulgences? How much are you looking for?”
“About 10 billion gold worth.”
Quilt responded with a smile, “10 billion gold? That should be enough for most sins. Have
you recently killed someone?”
“Hahaha, no, nothing significant. Just a little incident. You remember the concubine I
acquired not too long ago, right? She’s from a barbaric background and has some unruly
habits. I tried being a bit affectionate, but she couldn’t handle it and ran away.”
“Ah, it’s because the slave girl had no manners.”
“That’s right. These days, with the crackdown on illegal slaves, they’re being traded without
any certificates. So, while we were on the way to catch her with the bodyguards, we
disciplined her a bit… but she couldn’t endure it, and she died suddenly.”
“Hmm? And you’re buying indulgences worth 10 billion gold just because you killed a slave
girl?”
*****
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[Translator – Kie]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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“Oh, it’s not just that. On the way back after killing the slave girl, I was so angry that I
burned down an entire village I happened to come across. Dozens of children were probably
burned to death. That’s why.”
“Hahaha, that should be more than enough for 5 billion gold, don’t you think?”
“Haha, well, the remaining 5 billion gold is like a ‘tip’ to the gracious deity who forgives my
sins.”
The two men then shared a hearty laugh.
Quilt nodded and said, “You’ve thought well. In our Rune Order, we are lenient about human
mistakes. As humans, we can make mistakes and commit sins. Isn’t that the case? Paying an
appropriate penance is the solution.”
“That’s right. Regardless of the sin, as long as you pay the penance, it’s all you need to do.”
“Exactly. Honestly, even if you forcibly lay with a holy woman, you can repent by paying
penance. When the worldly coins hit the donation box, your soul goes from hell to heaven
with a ‘ding’ sound. This is a doctrine even recognized by one of our founding prophets of
our Rune Order, Johannes L. Quovadis.”
Quilt and the chubby nobleman continued their conversation as they walked down the
corridor. Ephebo, Pedo, Hebe, and Geronto also followed Quilt and disappeared.
Meanwhile, Vikir had heard the entire conversation. The stench of the disgusting corpses
Quilt left in the corridor moments ago made his senses almost numb.
“It’s suffocating.”
Then, a cold voice came from under Vikir’s chin. “Isn’t someone else suffocating?”
Only then did Vikir realize that Dolores was there. She was looking at him with a stern
expression.
Finally, Dolores, who had emerged from the gap between the walls, was visibly displeased
and questioned Vikir. “What were you just doing?”
Vikir remained silent because he couldn’t reveal the truth about the demon’s presence.
However, it seemed that Dolores had misunderstood something when she saw Vikir keeping
silent. She looked annoyed. “Do you think I’ll be grateful for this kind of useless concern?”
“…?”
What was she talking about now? Vikir raised an eyebrow in confusion.
Dolores, on the other hand, appeared to have misinterpreted something and spoke assertively,
“Do you think facing Quilt will be uncomfortable for me? No! I’m not scared to meet him!
Don’t treat me like a slacker!”
Vikir finally realized Dolores’ misunderstanding. She had misinterpreted why he had pulled
her close and hidden between the walls.
She thought Vikir wanted to prevent her from meeting Quilt.
So why was Dolores so uncomfortable about running into Quilt?
Because of the new-articles that were just published.
[The Villain ‘Night Hunter’ Who Terrified Venetior, Who Is He!?]
On [Month] [Day], in the early hours of last night, an unknown villain appeared, causing an
incident that reduced the [00 Orphanage] to rubble…
[Is the Quovadis clan Okay as It Is!?]
Meanwhile, within the Quovadis family, a fierce rivalry between the Old Faction and New
Faction factions was brewing…
There is also criticism that the delay in responding to the terror incidents is due to the internal
strife within the family…
[Old Faction vs. New Faction, Is the Feud between Quovadis Factions Benefiting Only the
Villains!?]
The conflict between the Old Faction and New Faction factions is indeed long-standing, and
the main difference between the two is whether they accept “indulgences” and
“absolutions”…
Indulgences are certificates that absolve one of their sins, like amulets. The main idea is to
offset the weight of sins with wealth.
The Old Faction faction’s Rune followers raised significant offerings by selling indulgences,
establishing a powerful presence. This faction included the majority of the elderly high
priests.
On the other hand, the New Faction faction criticized the Old Faction faction’s practices and
sought religious reform. The younger and lower-ranked priests were predominantly members
of the New Faction faction.
Notably, Saint Dolores represented the New Faction faction as a young and enlightened
figure. She walked a completely different path from her father, the Old Faction faction’s high
priest, Humbert. Their relationship was somewhat awkward due to their differing beliefs.
On the other hand, Quilt, who just walked through the corridor, was a prominent figure in the
Old Faction faction. The family he primarily leads, the [Indulgentia], is also one of the strong
pillars of the Old Faction faction. Therefore, it was easy to infer that the relationship between
Saint Dolores and the daycare director, Quilt, was not that great.
In fact, just a moment ago, Quilt openly said unpleasant things to Dolores. “Indeed, even if
you forcibly lay with a holy woman, you can repent by paying penance.”
Now that Vikir thought about it, Quilt might have known that Dolores was hiding between
the walls when he made that comment. Or, at the very least, he must have strongly suspected
it.
So was that the reason?
Dolores was so furious that tears welled up in her eyes. Even her usually mild and calm voice
was now trembling with emotion.
“This kind of consideration only makes things more uncomfortable! And family matters are
something I will handle on my own! What do you even know…?”
Moreover, due to various incidents within the school, Dolores didn’t particularly like Vikir in
the first place. For her, Vikir was a lazy and careless student who didn’t take school life
seriously. Furthermore, he was an impolite fellow who spoke ill of the “Night Hunter”
without knowing much about it.
Dolores felt a mix of emotions that exploded all at once, including shame for exposing family
secrets to an outsider, a momentary desire to hide in fear when she saw Quilt, subtle feelings
of hostility towards the Night Hunter, and all the other stress and anxieties she was carrying.
“You’re the worst!” she exclaimed.
She had been holding back, but she was still a young and immature individual. Eventually,
Dolores disappeared down the opposite end of the corridor, leaving Vikir behind.
Vikir, now alone after seeing her off, thought, “I don’t really care tho.”
The fact that the Saint was angry right now wasn’t important at all. If anything, thanks to
Dolores drawing all the attention, Quilt and Ephebo had passed by Vikir without noticing
him.
In many ways, Vikir was lucky.
Vikir immediately began tailing Quilt. Even though it was daytime and he wasn’t wearing a
mask, his eyes were already exuding a sinister reddish glow.
The Night Hunter bared his fangs.
*****

Chapter 147: Volunteering During the Golden Holidays (4)

The next morning dawned. The students who had participated in the volunteer activities had
the luxury of sleeping for an extra 2 hours and woke up at 8 a.m.
Unlike the academy’s schedule, where they would wake up at 6 a.m. and start their daily
routine at 8 a.m., the orphanage had a more relaxed schedule, with everyone waking up at 8
a.m., and the activities starting at 10 a.m.
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Vikir, who now shared a room, woke up early, got ready, and
headed outside. As Vikir was putting on his shoes to leave the dormitory, Figgy asked him a
question.
“Vikir, where were you last night?”
Vikir was a bit surprised by the question. “…?”
Figgy raised his drowsy eyes and continued, “No, last night I woke up because I needed to
use the bathroom. You weren’t in your bed.”
“I was in one of the bathroom stalls.”
“Oh, I see. Well, when I’m in an unfamiliar place, I can’t sleep for at least a week. You seem
to have adapted quickly.”
Of course, it was a lie. Vikir had spent the entire night exploring the orphanage buildings.
Even though he had missed Quilt’s trail during the chase, he was able to gather valuable
information.
“He’s more vigilant than I thought. He constantly changes his route in daily life to disrupt
any pursuit.”
The hunter had tracked his prey’s scent, but as soon as the scent was lost, he couldn’t
continue the pursuit. However, Vikir was a human, and humans knew how to use tools. He
had obtained a complete map of the entire orphanage and the building’s blueprints from
CindiWendy. This allowed him to pinpoint Quilt’s location.
“His hideout is deep in the center of the orphanage. Thanks to that, my goal is clear.”
Quilt’s hiding place was in the center, surrounded by the buildings where the children
resided. To reach the children’s living quarters at night, one had to pass through the
maximum number of locations during the day. This allowed him to investigate the entire
structure and plan his optimal route.
Therefore, Vikir planned to “serve” the children wholeheartedly today.
Of course, his friends were deeply moved by Vikir’s enthusiasm for volunteer work.
“Vikir, to be honest, I see you differently now. Working so hard for the children. I’m
ashamed of my own behavior, just trying to pass the time during volunteer hours to get
points.”
“When professors and seniors used to scold me for stretching out my service hours, I thought
they were insane. But now I see it – to the strong, be strong, and to the weak, be weak. We’re
peers, but you’re respectable.”
“Vikir, I’ll work harder too!”
However, Vikir didn’t pay much attention to the sentimental words of his friends. What was
important was not getting recognition and praise from others, but capturing the demon hiding
in this orphanage and eliminating him.
Then, someone greeted Vikir and his group.
“Hello! Good morning!”
It was Sinclaire. She waved her hand in their direction.
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Vikir looked at each other in confusion because none of them
were particularly close to Sinclaire.
“?”
“?”
“?
An atmosphere of “Hey, you too?” was forming among them.
Then, Sinclaire approached with a bright smile and walked up to Vikir, patting his shoulder.
“Hey, why are you acting like you don’t know me, big brother~?”
“Brother?”
Vikir’s forehead furrowed slightly. Hearing a girl call him “big brother” made him
uncomfortable.
“I just thought that if we’re the same age, there’s no reason not to call you ‘big brother.'”
“Is that so? It just feels a bit awkward…”
However, Vikir didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. The air suddenly became tense.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.
A total of six hands covered Vikir’s mouth.
“We like the ‘big brother’ title!”
Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy spoke to SinSinclaire with Vikir’s mouth still sealed.
…?
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Kie]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
Sinclaire tilted her head like a bunny, then suddenly grinned.
“Okay? If ‘big brother’ doesn’t work for you, we can find another title. I’ll think about it until
lunch.”
“Ah!”
“Then, Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, fighting! Let’s do our best today!”
Sinclaire waved her fists at everyone before turning and running toward the area where the
children were playing.
“Hey, everyone! Big sister is back! Pass the ball here!”
“Wow, Sinclaire, big sister! Pass it over here!”
Sinclaire quickly joined in and began playing with the children.
Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy were left with their mouths hanging open.
“Sinclaire seems so kind.”
“She’s good at studying, magic, and playing with the kids.”
“And, most importantly…”
All three of them spoke simultaneously.
“She’s the prettiest among the new students!”
Just then, a disdainful voice came from behind.
“Boys are such idiots.”
Everyone turned in the direction of the voice, where Bianca was standing with her arms
crossed.
Bianca said, “If you came to do volunteer work, then do it. Stop gossiping like little girls.”
Her cold words startled Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and everyone else, except Vikir.
Bianca, staring at Vikir, continued, “At least you seem a bit better. You’re not wasting time
criticizing like those idiots.”
Then Tudor, who was standing next to Vikir, became furious.
“Who are you calling an idiot?”
“You.”
“Don’t you know our test scores are similar?”
“Why would that even matter? You had to get intensive Tutoring for months before entering
the academy, and your father had to spend a fortune to barely get those grades. I got similar
scores without any extra effort. I heard your dad even paid a fortune for your tutoring. With
that level of instruction, do you still get these grades? Seriously, your standards are low.
Could you at least save some face for the nobility?”
“You got caught doing makeup in the first year and were scolded by the second-year sisters.
Then you started bragging about your family’s prestige, and when you got caught by the
supervising professor during makeup class, you were forced to do volunteer work. Is that a
noble thing to do?”
Tudor and Bianca had known each other for a long time before entering the academy, and
they were well aware of each other’s backgrounds.
“This brat! Bragging about a commoner girls’ looks behind their backs!”
“It doesn’t matter if I think someone is pretty because they are! And don’t you know that
discrimination between commoners and nobility is forbidden within the academy!? Your self-
righteousness makes you unfit to be a hero!”
“Aren’t you tired of your hero complex?”
“Being cynical and sarcastic is part of my charm!”
“You’re unbearable because you’re not on the same level. Hah!”
“I’d rather scream at a rock. I’m bored!”
Tudor and Bianca, who had always argued about who was the real head of the Cold
Department, were now arguing without a clear winner.
Sancho, with a bored expression, was trying to mediate between the two.
Meanwhile, Vikir quickly left the scene. He didn’t want to waste time getting caught up in
the children’s fights.
Figgy followed Vikir and said, “Oh, Vikir, I have some information to share with you.”
“Information? What is it?”
“It’s nothing significant, really. It’s about Sinclaire.”
…?
Vikir raised an eyebrow.
Figgy scratched his head and continued, “It’s not a big deal, but I saw Sinclaire talking to the
person in charge of volunteer activities the other day.”
“What about it?”
“It’s about the volunteer activity location. She asked where you were doing volunteer work
and requested to be assigned to the same place. She seemed really eager.”
Figgy smiled and playfully poked Vikir’s side.
“You get what I mean, right? Be careful.”
Vikir put on a serious expression.
He understood exactly what Figgy meant.
“Changing the volunteer activity location just to follow me? In these times? It’s highly
suspicious.”
There was a scent of conspiracy in the air.
At the same time, Vikir remembered what Sinclaire had said yesterday.
“We ended up assigned to the same place for volunteer work. What a coincidence.”
“Yeah, it seems like it.”
“I did see you submit your volunteer activity application last week, but I had no idea we’d
end up in the same place. I’m glad it worked out.”
“Is that so?”
She claimed it was a coincidence yesterday. However, it was a well-thought-out and carefully
planned action.
Vikir stared at Sinclaire in the distance with a suspicious gaze.
“Come to think of it, when she said that yesterday, her heart rate increased slightly, and her
breathing became unstable. It’s a characteristic of those hiding something.”
For someone like Vikir, who had lived through the era of destruction, it was natural to be
cautious in such situations. Demons were known for their cunning and would seize any
opportunity to strike at their enemies, even in the slightest moment of carelessness.
He thought of the faces of his fallen comrades and felt sorrow and regret. Remembering those
times made him even more determined to stay vigilant.
Her soul emitted nothing but a pure aura, yet there could be something he didn’t know.
“Anyway, I’ll be cautious. I’ll keep my distance from now on. A significant distance.”
Figgy’s meaningful warning weighed on Vikir’s mind.
Perhaps Figgy had sensed something unsettling and subtly pointed it out to him.
“…Well, I’ll eliminate her if necessary.”
After all, dead men tell no tales. Vikir was well aware of that.
*****
Chapter 148 – Volunteering during the Golden Holidays (5)
Under the scorching sun, Vikir was busy pulling out weeds that had sprouted on the ground.
However, even as he did this menial task, Vikir’s eyes and ears remained alert.
Vikir had gone to great lengths to gather information about Quilt, making certain he didn’t
overlook any details. For a mere volunteer like him, directly meeting Quilt was nearly
impossible, so his only option was to gather information about Quilt’s work and daily life
through observation and conversations with people in the vicinity.
Even this proved to be a challenge due to the presence of Gerento, Pedo, Hebe, and Ephebo,
who were always by Quilt’s side. They were making it difficult for Vikir to get close.
“They’re quite formidable. Especially that woman, Gerento…”
Vikir’s attention was drawn to a small-framed female among the four shadows accompanying
Quilt. She exuded strong magical power, easily at least a 5th-class magician. Although her
physical stature seemed comparable to Vikir’s, her magical power was undeniably
exceptional.
The black staff she carried emitted a disturbing odor. It appeared to be an ancient relic of
some sort. Nevertheless, at this moment, Vikir decided to focus only on what was evident.
Vikir had been quietly collecting information based on what he observed. Upon analyzing the
various aspects, he concluded that Quilt’s duties were not particularly extraordinary. Quilt
mainly dealt with selling indulgences or penances to visiting nobles or traders, and
occasionally sent investment reports or records of indulgences to the Quovadis family.
Most of the recipients of these correspondences were Humbert L. Quovadis, Dolores’s
Father, and the current head of the Quovadis Clan. Vikir, under the cover of night, would
discreetly cross the barrier and intercept pigeons and owls flying from Quilt’s office, shooting
them down with arrows to seize the mail.
The letters usually included records of penance sales.
For example:
[Indulgence Sale Records]
– Bequoin: Murdered parents who planned to disinherit their child and assumed their identity
after faking their death = Donated 1.5 billion gold and was absolved of all sins.
– Lord Lagesso: Abducted and murdered twin sisters who worked as maids and secretly
disposed of their bodies in the sewage system = Donated 200 million gold and were absolved
of all sins.
– Master Phinnick: Killed his business partner and embezzled the investment funds, leading
the partner’s family to live in destitution before resorting to mass suicide = Donated 800
million gold and was absolved of all sins.
– Countess Aigel: Accused of massive tax evasion amounting to nearly 100 billion gold =
Donated 300 million gold and was absolved of all sins.
– Quacar: Accused of manipulating stock prices and causing the suicides of more than 10,000
small investors = Donated 5 billion gold and was absolved of all sins.
And so on.
While these individuals were undoubtedly wicked, they had not allied themselves with
demons or betrayed humanity. Therefore, they were not targets for the “Night Hound.”
Vikir sighed as he put the letters aside for a moment, realizing that he didn’t need to know
these details. While these people were evil, they hadn’t committed the ultimate betrayal by
consorting with demons.
However, these “Blacklist” records could potentially be valuable to someone else. The
information held the power to influence political decisions significantly.
Vikir decided to store the letters somewhere discreet.
At that moment, there was a twitch in his pocket.
“Hmm?”
Vikir was caught off guard, and even the usually expressionless Vikir widened his eyes in
surprise.
What had wriggled in his pocket was quite a sizable black egg. It was the same egg he had
acquired during his two-year stay with the Ballaks. Madam Eight-Legs egg.
Perhaps there was some reason for it to move now?
Vikir pondered for a moment before coming up with a whimsical idea. Could the egg be
pining for the days when it was raised as a pet among wolf cubs? Did it want to play with the
children in the orphanage?
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Kie]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
“Could it be?”
Vikir had this strange daydream. Madam Eight-Legs’ egg had once grown up in a den with
wolf cubs. Wolf cubs spend their first days snuggling and frolicking with the eggs. Maybe
this egg was drawn to the children’s play because it missed those days. Surprisingly, it
appeared that all of the children in the orphanage were without parents.
“No, that’s impossible. An egg from a spider can’t have any spiritual significance…”
But if it had an S-level danger rating and belonged to Madam Eight-Legs, a high-ranked
monster, then it might be different.
At that moment, a loud pop echoed, and one of the kids made a surprised noise.
Simultaneously, the expressions on all the children’s faces turned to shock.
“Ouch!”
Had the ball flown too far?
No, that wasn’t the case. The pop came from the ball itself, but it didn’t move an inch from
where it had been. The sound occurred as the leather of the ball tore, releasing the air
contained within.
“Oh, this was our last ball…”
The children gathered around the deflated ball, disappointed. Despite the orphanage making a
significant profit from selling indulgences, the toys that the children played with were always
old and worn, typically received as donations a long time ago.
The ball they had been playing with had multiple patches, and the children had sewn it up
several times to maintain its shape. Now, it had finally burst, leaving the children unable to
play with it anymore.
The child who had last kicked the ball didn’t know what to do, looking bewildered.
Vikir found the expression on the panicking child’s face quite familiar.
Nymphet, the girl who didn’t open her heart to volunteers. Unlike her usual expressionless
self, she was looking at her peers with a distressed expression, as if she didn’t know what to
do and felt sorry.
Right at that moment, something astonishing happened.
Plop!
Madam Eight-Legs’ egg burst out of Vikir’s chest and bounced forward. It was as if the egg
was urging the children to play with it, rolling lightly across the ground with a “thud, thud,
thud.”
“Hey, it’s a ball!”
The children saw the egg bouncing towards them, and their faces lit up.
Although the egg bounced somewhat strangely and in a different direction, the children didn’t
seem to mind. They eagerly made it their new ball, with little regard for the oddity.
Vikir, observing the egg rolling and bouncing around the playground, was taken aback.
The egg seemed to enjoy the children’s attention, remaining resilient despite the bounces. It
seemed to have the perfect texture.
“Quite bizarre,” Vikir mumbled as he watched the children happily play with Madam’s egg.
However, despite its appearance, that was undoubtedly a monster’s egg. It was not a suitable
plaything for the children.
Vikir took a step forward to retrieve Madam’s egg from the children.
Just then, a discreet cough sounded from behind him.
Vikir ignored it and tried to take another step forward.
Cough! Cough!
A series of forced coughs, as if someone was trying hard to grab his attention, continued.
Vikir turned around, wondering what was going on, and recognized a familiar face in the
midst of the children. It was Saint Dolores, standing before him with a slightly flushed face.
Vikir quickly collected Quilt’s records that he had left nearby and concealed them inside his
pocket.
Saint Dolores observed his actions and narrowed her eyes. “Preparing notes for the exam?
Studying during volunteer work? Surprisingly diligent.”
“What can I help you with?” Vikir asked with a stern tone.
Saint Dolores, with her reddened face, continued to cough a few more times before averting
her gaze. “Um, well, just wondering about the volunteer work. I asked some other friends,
and it seems like you’re working really hard. Are you okay with it?”
“Yes.”
“…”
“…”
“Ah, is that all? Your response?”
“Yes.”
“Well then.”
Dolores couldn’t adapt to Vikir’s brief answers. She had been living a life where every one-
word question brought back ten or a hundred-word responses.
Dolores twiddled the ends of her hair with her fingers for a while before finally, with some
effort, found her voice.
“Actually, I came here to talk about yesterday.”
Vikir raised an eyebrow. “Yesterday? I must have forgotten since it wasn’t important.”
As Vikir tried to recall what had happened yesterday between him and Dolores, she hesitated
for a moment and then continued, “Well, you see, there’s a bit of a situation at home, and
maybe that’s why… I may have overreacted to you yesterday. Still, you were trying to help
me, I suppose. I’m really sorry for yelling and…”
Dolores began to explain the incident in the hallway where she had been shoved away by
Vikir. But Vikir was no longer paying attention to her words because something far more
significant had occurred.
Thunk!
Nymphet, with her foot, had launched Madam’s egg high into the air once again. This time,
however, she missed the landing trajectory entirely.
Splunk!
The egg happened to land in a deep sewage ditch at the corner of the playground. All the
children screamed.
“Aah! Not that! It was the last one!”
“Without that, we can’t play ‘Rugby’ anymore!”
“We have to retrieve it! If not…”
The problem was that this sewage ditch was draining into an underground sewage treatment
plant, and the ball that had fallen in was no ordinary ball.
Gluuuurg…
Even as the children panicked, Madam’s egg was being carried away towards the sewage
treatment plant. Furthermore, the sewage ditch was too deep and had a rapid current for the
children to enter.
It was an urgent situation. Dolores couldn’t finish her sentence.
“I’m sorry… Huh?”
The object of her apology, Vikir, had sprinted toward the sewage ditch while the children
desperately tried to catch their breath by the edge.
“It’s Deep. Move aside.”
Vikir briefly warned the children, who had gathered around the sewage ditch, flapping their
feet, and then he leaped into it.
And then…
Splash!
Without a moment’s hesitation, he dived into the filthy water, and his body disappeared
beneath the surface.
*****
Chapter 149 – Volunteering during the Golden Holiday (6)
Dolores L Quovadis, the Saintess of the Rune order religion, and the daughter of the
Quovadis Clan, one of the seven great clans.
She didn’t particularly like Vikir initially. No, she was closer to the side of disliking him.
From the first time they met at the academy, she had a strong aversion to Vikir’s image.
“Vikir, Cold Department- Class B, from the remote regions. What did you do to accumulate
this many demerits?”
“… ”
“Regardless of how many attitude points you have, you know that accumulating demerits is
bad for your grades, right?” Depending on the circumstances, you may even be required to
skip lectures and perform community service, do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“… Watch yourself.”
He was a lazy freshman who had accumulated a full load of demerits shortly after enrolling.
Even when he was criticized for laziness or breaching restricted areas, he didn’t show any
signs of embarrassment or remorse.
He was not only lazy, but he was also impudent and arrogant. Moreover, as soon as he joined
the school’s newspaper club, he didn’t hesitate to hurl harsh words at the “Night Hound.”
“He’s undoubtedly a villain.”
Something surged within Dolores when she heard Vikir insult the Night Hound. Who does he
think he is to pass judgment on someone? How could a spoiled, lazy, and comfortable
freshman, listening to lectures in a cozy environment, judge others, especially in such a
sheltered place as this?
Dolores thought of the Night Hound. Although he was currently a suspect in the Quovadis’
orphanage terror incident, she firmly believed he wasn’t a bad person.
The vivid memory of treating patients during the Red Death outbreak remained etched in her
mind.
“I saw him treating patients even when they were covered in filth. How can I judge him as a
villain?”
The Divine Power that the Night Hound showed was not something that could be easily
mimicked or acted out. Indeed, despite his rough and scarred soul, his spirit exuded a purity
greater than that of any clergyman.
Dolores didn’t know who the Night Hound was or where he came from. But she could guess
that he must have walked a long and thorny path, and she believed that his scars and the
flowers that had bloomed from them were truly holy and noble.
She didn’t like people who insulted martyrs, so Dolores couldn’t hold any positive feelings
toward Vikir.
When Vikir covered her mouth and pushed her against the wall, she was initially perplexed.
However, after seeing Quilt pass by in the corridor, she felt angry. She was the Saintess of
Quovadis, and Quilt was nothing more than a lower-ranking noble, even from an outsider
family. Her status made Dolores’s grievances entirely justified.
“Hahaha, even if you forcefully lay with a Holy woman, all you have to do is make a
donation and all sins would be forgiven.”
Quilt had uttered offensive words about Dolores. So, she became even more furious at Vikir.
If it weren’t for Vikir, she would’ve immediately left the place and punished Quilt.
Afterward, Dolores scolded Vikir and ran away in embarresement. And just seconds later, she
regretted her outburst.
Dolores’ anger initially subsided over time, and she began to reflect on her own mistakes, as
is typical of a kind-hearted person. Dolores remembered the previous situation. Vikir had
clearly covered for her and attempted to assist her in an awkward situation. To be honest,
Dolores found it difficult to confront Quilt in any situation. Sometimes in life, people who are
lower in status do not feel like lower-status individuals. Quilt was one of those people for
Dolores. His carefree, audacious, and relaxed demeanor made her uneasy.
Quilt’s absolute self-confidence stems from money, especially from the enormous bribes he
gets offered in the name of indulgenses.
As the head of the Indulgentia family, Quilt had built a thick network of connections and
power by distributing bribes disguised as offerings to various places. With his wealth and
strong ties with higher-ups, Quilt was undoubtedly an individual who couldn’t be easily dealt
with, even by Dolores, the Saintess of Quovadis.
Therefore, Dolores couldn’t do much besides getting angry when she was openly insulted by
him. Besides, the conflicts within Quovadis had already become known worldwide through
newspaper articles.
In such a situation, Dolores couldn’t simply blame Vikir for his actions in trying to protect
her. In the end, she had to admit it within herself.
“…No, I should be thankful instead.”
Dolores eventually came to acknowledge this. If she had encountered Quilt in the corridor
earlier, she might have lost her composure and made a mistake. She realized that Vikir was a
person who had prevented such an incident from happening inadvertently.
Moreover, Dolores had another thought:
“It’s stifling.”
Vikir had certainly frowned when looking at Quilt. From this, one could infer that Vikir also
didn’t particularly like Quilt’s actions. In this regard, Dolores shared a similar opinion with
Vikir. This led her to view Vikir in a slightly better light.
“Still… pushing an unknown girl against the wall like that wasn’t right. We’re not… in any
kind of romantic relationship.”
For a girl who had never experienced romance, being pushed against a wall by a boy was a
very vivid memory. Even now, she couldn’t help but feel her heart race when she recalled
that moment.
“I was really surprised.”
Dolores fanned her face slightly, feeling it getting warmer.
“Maybe… apart from being lazy, he might actually be a good guy.”
Within Dolores’s heart, Vikir’s evaluation rose slightly. It was a surprisingly lenient
evaluation for someone who usually held the belief that a strong sense of ethics and diligence
equaled goodness.
A bit more time passed. Dolores searched for Vikir. She wanted to apologize for what had
happened in the corridor earlier.
However, even after searching the entire orphanage for half a day, she couldn’t find Vikir.
During a break, when the first-year students were resting, Tudor, who had been chatting in
front of the restroom, provided some information:
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Kie]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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“Eh? Vikir? He was with us until earlier, helping with the restroom cleaning. Oh! Just a while
ago, he went to the cafeteria. They said they were short on staff there. We played rock-paper-
scissors to decide who would go, and he volunteered to go first.”
With this information, Dolores went from the restroom to the cafeteria. Inside, she found
Sanchu eating with the children and said:
“Oh, Vikir? Until a while ago, he was serving meals to us, but he heard that the hot water
wasn’t working in the cafeteria, so he went to check the plumbing. He didn’t have a proper
meal because he was too busy with the food distribution…”
From there, Dolores went to the plumbing room from the cafeteria. Inside, Figgy, drenched in
water, pointed ahead with his finger and said:
“Ah, Senior! Good afternoon! You’re looking for Vikir, aren’t you? Right now, he’s in the
laundry room. Just earlier, Vikir volunteered to fix the plumbing so that we could do the
laundry. He hasn’t had lunch yet, busy with the repairs…”
Dolores headed from the restroom to the cafeteria, then from there to the plumbing room, and
finally to the laundry room. In the laundry room, Sinclaire, who was doing the laundry,
greeted her with a salute:
“Hello, Senior Dolores! Why are you looking for Big brother Vikir? Oh, until a while ago, I
was washing laundry with him, but the kids wanted to play, so he went to the playroom with
them! The kids are full of energy, you know!”
Dolores asked, “Why are you calling him big brother when you’re his age?”
“Why do I call him ‘big brother’ when I’m his age? Hahaha, That’s right, he told me not to
call him ‘oppa,’ so I call him ‘Big brother.’ now, Ha-ha!”
Dolores went from the restroom to the cafeteria, then to the plumbing room, the laundry
room, and finally to the playroom. In the playroom, she found Bianca, who was reluctantly
giving piggyback rides to the children, and she sighed as she spoke in a weary voice:
“Who are you looking for? Vikir? Ugh… he was giving piggyback rides to the kids just a
moment ago, but they wanted to go play in the playground, so he went to prepare it for them.
Even so, he’s been helping the kids a lot, and they’re full of energy…”
Dolores had to head from the restroom to the cafeteria, then to the plumbing room, the
laundry room, the playroom, and now to the playground.
As she made her way to the playground, she couldn’t help but wonder, “How much work can
one person do in a single day?”
Vikir had already done the work of about ten people. He had cleaned the restroom, worked in
the cafeteria, repaired plumbing, handled the laundry, played with the kids, and even
prepared the playground for them. Each task was exhausting, and he had already completed
so many by mid-morning.
Regular academy students usually had no inclination for such hard work. How could these
pampered kids, who had never done such tasks, understand this? Yet Vikir, without any
complaints, silently bore all these difficult tasks by himself.
(Of course, Dolores had no idea that Vikir was deliberately working in different places to
gather information while appearing busy.)
However, Dolores had another thought: “My judgment was so wrong. He’s incredibly
diligent.”
She had thought of him as lazy and careless all this time. Dolores was embarrassed by how
prejudiced she had been. She had always believed that she treated everyone without
discrimination or prejudice. Yet, she had looked at her junior, a fellow club member, with
such biased eyes.
Dolores decided to completely reassess Vikir and thought, “I should apologize for all of this.”
Finally, Dolores reached the playground where Vikir was.
On the other side of the playground, children were playing, kicking a ball around. A bit
further away, Vikir was working on clearing weeds and rocks to level the ground for the
children to play. While doing this, he was reading papers covered in writing.
“He’s studying,” Dolores marveled. Even in the midst of such volunteer work, he wasn’t
neglecting his studies. This was a true example of a dedicated student.
“Did he do well in his studies?” Dolores didn’t know Vikir’s academic performance, but
when they returned to school, she planned to check his written exam results. “I’ll offer to
tutor him.”
Dolores was confident that she could be of great help, as she had never ranked outside of the
top three in the third-year written exams.
While thinking about this, Dolores approached Vikir and cleared her throat. “Ahem!”
But when she finally decided to apologize, the words didn’t come out easily. She was known
for apologizing right away when she did something wrong, but for some reason, it was
difficult to do it with Vikir. Maybe it was because of the incident with the Night Hound.
“That’s just an excuse! I did something wrong, so I should apologize properly.”
Dolores cleared her throat again. “Ahem! Ahem!”
It was as if she was trying to get his attention forcibly.
Finally, Vikir turned his head and stopped reading the papers.
“…?”
Vikir put away the papers he had been reading as soon as he saw Dolores.
She spoke with an awkward tone, “Are you preparing for a written test? Studying this hard
even during volunteer work?… Hmm, you’re surprisingly diligent.”
“What can I help you with?” Vikir’s tone was stern. It was likely due to his anger from the
incident the day before.
Dolores hesitated for a moment and then stammered, “Uhm, well… Are you preparing for a
written test during your volunteer activities? I asked some other friends, and it seems like
you’re quite diligent in your volunteer work. Is it worth it?”
“Yes.”
“…”
“…”
“…Oh, is that it? Your response?”
“Yes.”
“…I see.”
Dolores was perplexed, unsure how to continue the conversation. ‘Was conversation always
this difficult?’ she wondered. People had often approached her and initiated conversations,
and the responses flowed naturally, even when she asked questions or shared information
about which they weren’t particularly interested. Vikir, on the other hand, was unique. He
didn’t say anything unless it was absolutely necessary. It didn’t matter if the speaker was the
third-year student council president and a saint of the Quovadis Clan, one of the empire’s
seven great clans.’
Dolores decided to be honest. “Actually, I came to talk about yesterday’s incident.”
“…?”
Vikir slightly furrowed his brow. It seemed like the memory of yesterday was uncomfortable
for him. So Dolores decided to open up.
“Well, you see, there’s a bit of a situation at home, and maybe that’s why… I may have
overreacted to you yesterday. Still, you were trying to help me, I suppose. I’m really sorry for
yelling and…”
However, she couldn’t finish her apology.
Suddenly, Vikir abruptly got up and ran somewhere.
“Sorry, I…”
Dolores couldn’t finish her sentence.
Vikir was heading towards the area where many kids had gathered, near the sewage.
It was a place that was intentionally kept off-limits because it was so deep and dirty. Some
children were already dangerously close to the sewage, and a few were peering inside.
Dolores hurriedly followed Vikir.
As she approached, she saw that Nymphet was whimpering. “Oh, the ball…”
The ball that the kids were playing with had fallen into the sewage.
Due to a lack of resources, the kids had been repairing and reusing the same old ball multiple
times. Dolores had known this. She often sent new balls to replace the old ones, but the kids
played with them so much that they quickly became worn out.
While Dolores was thinking about this, she heard a short, stern warning from Vikir. “It’s
deep. Move aside.”
Dolores, puzzled, turned her head to see what was happening. Splash! Without any hesitation,
Vikir jumped into the sewage.
Splash! Splash! Gloop…
In the disgusting sewage, Vikir swam as if he were swimming, eventually retrieving the ball
the kids had lost.
Splish… Splash…
Vikir emerged from the sewage, and the children with surprised expressions came closer.
“It’s dangerous to play near the sewage. Go play over there… The ball is dirty, so let me
wash it and give it back to you.”
Vikir said this calmly while shaking off the filth from the sewage.
Dolores, trying to understand the situation, suddenly felt an inexplicable warmth spreading
throughout her body. She couldn’t comprehend this unusual and unfamiliar emotion.
*****
Chapter 150
Chapter 150: Not a Brother, but an Uncle (1)
The volunteer activities during the golden holidays have all come to an end. Tomorrow
morning, everyone will return to the academy.
On their last night at the orphanage, the student volunteers gathered in the auditorium to
listen to a speech by the orphanage director, Quilt.
“…Your parents are working hard for all of you at this very moment. But the children in this
orphanage don’t have parents like you do… Therefore, the excellent individuals from the
academy should be the guardians of these children, and the grace you have shown them
during the past ten days will be remembered by these children for a lifetime… You have
taken care of these children as if you were their parents over the past ten days…”
The power of a demon truly shines when it is within the demon’s mouth.
Indeed, many students in the auditorium shed tears as Quilt’s speech unfolded.
Quilt’s speech aimed to subtly stimulate the respect and gratitude that students already had
for their parents and was nothing more than that in Vikir’s eyes, except for Vikir himself.
The evidence of this fact was the large donation box that appeared immediately after Quilt’s
speech concluded.
“Now! Please show the love you’ve felt for our orphanage’s children over the past ten days!
Just as you’ve received from your parents, please share with the children here!”
At Quilt’s words, students eagerly opened their wallets.
Jingling, jingling, and clinking!
The sound of coins and bills falling into the donation box echoed loudly.
The amount collected formed a small, golden mountain, stacked layer by layer, as much as
the students at the academy respected and loved their parents.
…Of course, Vikir didn’t contribute a single penny.
He had no intention of donating anything to a demon.
At that moment, someone approached Vikir.
It was Sinclaire.
She grabbed Vikir’s sleeve and spoke to him.
“Big Brother. Big Brother, aren’t you giving money?”
“…I don’t have any money.”
“Money? Why don’t you have money? You’re an academy student.”
Admission to the academy required a substantial annual tuition fee.
Sinclaire frowned with an annoyed expression and poked Vikir’s side.
“Aren’t you being too mean? These kids don’t have parents to help them, you know. We
should help them.”
That was the typical response from most of the student volunteers.
With the exception of Vikir. So, Tudor, Figgy, Sanchu… Even Bianca emptied her wallet
into the donation box, tears streaming down her cheeks.
But Vikir firmly shook his head.
“Things like parents are hardly necessary.”
“Huh?”
Sinclaire looked at Vikir with a puzzled expression.
Vikir added briefly, “In the end, the world is something you have to overcome with your own
strength. The presence of parents is only necessary during the early stages when help from
others is crucial, but otherwise, it’s unnecessary.”
In truth, Vikir never thought that the children in the orphanage were pitiful or deserving of
sympathy.
Just as Vikir himself was born and raised as a hunting dog in Baskerville, the children at this
orphanage were also overcoming their early years with the help of the facility. Therefore,
Vikir didn’t believe that the presence of parents was essential.
The perspective he held was functional, not emotional. Vikir had grown up in Baskerville,
and during the “Era of Annihilation,” this parenting approach was quite natural to him.
Naturally, it might seem somewhat unfamiliar to the ordinary people of this era who had
never experienced the “Era of Annihilation.”
Sinclaire’s gaze at Vikir changed slightly.
It went from being curious and playful to something sad and wistful.
“Big Brother…”
Finally, Sinclaire opened her mouth.
“Come to my house sometimes. During the holidays or vacation.”
“…?”
“Let’s have a meal together.”
Sinclaire lifted her foot and reached out to pat Vikir’s head.
“What are you doing?”
Vikir asked in a bewildered tone. Sinclaire seemed to snap out of it and pulled her hand back
with a gasp.
It appeared that her actions had taken her by surprise as well.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
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*****
“Uh… Well, then, I’m off! I’ll go see the kids! Big Brother! Let’s definitely have a meal
later! I’ll be around after the volunteer work ends and we return!”
She hurriedly retreated and waved her hand as she disappeared into the crowd.
“…She’s a strange one,” Vikir muttered, furrowing his brow.
Memories of Sinclaire from before his regression naturally resurfaced in his mind.
She didn’t talk much but was a cheerful girl. She got along with everyone to some extent but
didn’t form deep connections with anyone. She was the brightest prodigy in the Corps, never
missing the top spot in both written and practical exams during her four years at the academy.
And after graduating, she disappeared, not revealing herself to the world.
She was known to be a commoner, but strangely, her origins and background were entirely
unknown.
Vikir’s brow furrowed.
“Come to think of it, among the messages CindiWendy sent me, there was one saying,
‘There’s a member of royalty among the new students of the 20th academic year.’ Could it
be…?”
Considering someone as outstanding as Sinclaire in appearance, talent, and the mysteriously
concealed background, it was possible.
While Vikir was lost in thought…
Unfortunately Quilt’s voice rang out again.
“Now! Our orphanage’s children will now express their gratitude to the volunteers!”
At that moment, spotlights shone on the other side of the stage.
There, the children of the orphanage, dressed up as best they could, stood in line with
awkward and bashful expressions.
Each of them held flower wreaths made with amateurish skill in their hands.
Quilt, wearing a strained smile, spoke.
“Now, kids~ It’s time to express your gratitude to the people who’ve become your ‘parents’
for the past ten days, isn’t it?”
It was evident that the plan was to extract more donations from the Academy students who
had no prior social experience using the children as bait.
However, the genuine feelings of the children who made the flower wreaths and the bond
with the volunteer students were real.
The children approached the older sisters, brothers, and Big Brothers with excitement, hoping
that they would like the handmade flower bouquets and necklaces, and the older siblings
accepted the children’s gifts with joyful expressions.
Tudor, Sanchu, Figgy, and even Bianca embraced the children tightly.
“Waah! I’m Tudor! I swear, I’ll visit you every week until I become a great hero! Of course,
even after that!”
“In the North, we treasure children the most. They are the sprouts that will pull the empire’s
future. Work hard, all of you.”
“Waah! Big Sister will definitely come again! Next time, I’ll bring lots of delicious things!”
“True… Ten days may be short, or long, depending on how you see it. But I’ve really grown
attached.”
The children hung the flower wreaths around the students’ necks and gave them kisses on the
cheeks.
But…
“…”
For some reason, very few children approached Vikir.
It was partly due to Vikir’s rough and cold demeanor, but the main reason was that Vikir
hadn’t shown himself to the children over the past ten days.
Cleaning sewers, repairing pipes, tiling the restaurant, fixing the playground… Vikir always
took care of the dirty jobs in the background, so his activities remained hidden from view.
As a result, Vikir’s volunteer score, evaluation, and image were quite low.
At that moment, a young child approached Vikir as well.
It was none other than Nymphet.
“…”
“…”
Nimpet stared at Vikir in silence.
Vikir, too, gazed back at Nimpet.
Surprisingly, Vikir broke the silence first.
“What are you looking at?”
In response, Nimpet hesitated for a moment, then brought out something hidden behind her
hands.
It was a small, handmade flower wreath.
“Um. Thank you.”
Vikir received the flower wreath from Nimpet with his hand.
Usually, one would bend their legs to match the child’s height and let the child hang a wreath
around their neck. But there was no such consideration for Vikir.
At that moment, Nimpet took Vikir’s hand.
Then, using cute fingers, Nimpet wrote a message on Vikir’s palm.
‘Thank you for your hard work, Oppa.’
It referred to Vikir’s work in the sewers.
Vikir nodded slightly. “You’re welcome.”
Vikir’s actions didn’t have much enthusiasm beyond that.
However, to Vikir’s surprise, Nimpet showed a willingness to continue the conversation.
“Will you come next time?”
For a moment, Vikir’s pupils trembled.
Next. Was there a next time?
Hunting dogs are prepared for death at every moment.
Their lives were a constant struggle between being killed by their prey’s retaliation or living
at the mercy of their owners.
Thus, Vikir, like other volunteers, didn’t take the idea of a ‘next’ lightly.
Moreover, had Nymphet not been a child who had been disappointed by volunteers whose
visits had become increasingly infrequent?
After a brief hesitation, Vikir eventually nodded. “As long as there’s a ‘tomorrow’ for me and
for you, I’ll try to come.”
That was the most significant promise Vikir could make.
Upon hearing these words, Nimpet’s eyes widened for a moment.
After a while, Nimpet smiled broadly and nodded.
“I’ll wait.”
Nimpet’s moist fingers conveyed the message of their promise to Vikir’s dry palm.
Eventually, it was time for kisses.
The other children all kissed the cheeks of different volunteers.
But neither Nymphet nor Vikir moved to bring their lips and cheeks close.
Finally, Vikir turned away.
“You don’t have to kiss me; I’m not a big fan of it.”
Nymphet seemed somewhat flustered in response.
For some reason, she fumbled with his hands, making Vikir’s action conspicuous.
At that moment, Vikir left a final message.
“…And I’m not ‘Oppa’; I’m ‘Uncle.'”
Hearing the word ‘Oppa’ was somewhat awkward for Vikir.
Leaving the disappointed Nymphet behind, Vikir walked away, leaving the hall.
“Wait a moment!”
Even if Saint Dolores blocked Vikir’s path.
*****
Chapter 151
Chapter 151: Not a Brother, But an Uncle (2)
“Wait a moment!” Saint Dolores blocked Vikir’s path.
“Aren’t you being too harsh on the child? Did you receive a kiss?”
“I didn’t get one.”
“Not ‘didn’t,’ but ‘didn’t want to!” “The child wishes to kiss you; accept it!”
“I feel embarrassed.”
Dolores was taken aback, her mouth agape. She’d never heard anyone say the word
“embarrassed” with such assurance.
In the end, she hugged Nymphet.
“Ah, this stubborn oppa doesn’t like kisses. How about giving one to your sister instead?”
“…”
“Oh, you don’t like your sister…?”
But Dolores was met with a very determined Nymphet.
Dolores looked at Vikir’s retreating back with a bemused expression, observing Nymphet’s
dejected face.
“She never opened up with anyone before, but… why did Nymphet open up to Vikir?”
She, too, knew why Nymphet had opened up to Vikir.
Nymphet had dropped the ball into the sewer during the game, and Vikir had jumped into the
sewer without hesitation to retrieve it.
Seeing the way Vikir casually returned the ball even while covered in filth, who wouldn’t be
moved by that?
Dolores, who was probably watching the scene from afar, was moved to tears when she saw
Nymphet herself, who had dropped the ball into the sewer.
“… Vikir. You’re quite an enigma.”
Dolores, who was looking at Vikir’s diminishing figure in the distance, suddenly became
curious about her junior. She wanted to know more about him.
The day was drawing to a dark close.
Vikir left the auditorium and headed back to his dormitory.
The male dormitory, which accommodated four students in one room, was shared by Tudor,
Sancho, Figgy, and Vikir.
As Vikir approached the dormitory, the daycare facility staff on duty gestured to the students.
“Come on in, volunteers! Don’t forget, if you’re late, all the building doors will be locked,
and we won’t be able to open them for you!”
“After 10 p.m., you can’t leave the dormitory!”
Indulgentia Orphanage had remarkably strict curfews.
At night, all the building doors and windows were locked, and movement was strictly
prohibited.
The dormitory supervisors always patrolled the hallways, ready to address any concerns of
the volunteers. However, Vikir understood that their presence was more for surveillance than
protection.
“Especially strict around the dormitories where the kids stay.”
Even Vikir, the great Night Hound, had never visited the dormitories where the children
stayed at night. The external security staff patrolled the area, and inside, Quilt’s four shadows
stood guard.
Gerento, Hebe, Pedo, and Ephebo.
Although he hadn’t seen them, their presence was detectable due to the faint stench that
emanated from them.
These four vexing obstacles remained unmoving.
So Vikir waited for the appropriate moment. When their scent would be even more faint.
And it was finally time for the hunt today, on a night when the moon was obscured by thick
clouds.
Vikir went to the communal showers, took a quick shower, and returned to his room wrapped
in a towel.
The evening roll call would start soon, followed by bedtime.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
As he nonchalantly dried himself off, Vikir didn’t seem to know anything.
All he did was rinse off the dirt from his body without any signs of being alert.
However, things took an unexpected turn when he was done.
“Hey, Vikir!”
As planned, Tudor approached Vikir and draped an arm around his shoulders.
When Vikir turned to look, Tudor let out a wicked laugh and whispered teasingly.
“Man, check out these rock-hard abs of yours. Who are you trying to kill with this chiseled
physique?”
Tudor playfully poked Vikir’s stomach.
[TL/N: It’s not gae, if it’s with the homies.]
He squinted and, in a subtle voice, continued to tease Vikir.
“Are you seriously going to waste this incredible body and just go to bed tonight?”
[TL/N: Bruh, Tudor…]
“Then where should I go?”
“Come on, Vikir. Your body… after you die, it’ll rot away, becoming nothing more than dirt.
We should make more efficient use of this young, energetic body, don’t you think? After all,
we should do good for the greater good.”
Tudor stared at Vikir’s altruistic body with a sly smile.
Then, beside him, Sancho gently coughed.
“Basically, you want to sneak into the girls’ dorm at night, right?” You the one who’s
supposed to be a wannabe hero?”
“There’s a saying, ‘Heroes are naturally inclined to seek colorful adventures. And who’s
going to scold me for it?”
Sancho laughed heartily at Tudor’s remark.
Tudor started persuading Sancho and Figgy with sparkling eyes.
“Can you imagine how thrilling this would be?” Getting through the pitch-black night and the
strict boundaries, climbing the rope to the girls’ dormitory, and finally meeting them! It’s like
a knight’s quest! Our academy’s dormitories, as you know, are strictly separated for males
and females. If we don’t take advantage of this opportunity, we won’t be able to spend a
night in the same room as the girls for the next four years!”
“Um, what are we going to do when we meet them?”
“That’s a good question, Figgy!” What are our options? So… just drink, play games, and
have a good time! We can play drinking games and tell some real-life stories. “What are your
thoughts?”
“Hmm. Drinking games? Are we going to compete to see who can drink the most until
someone passes out?”
“That’s such a northern-style way of thinking, Sancho. Why would we play that kind of game
with the girls? Instead, we can play random games or truth or dare! You know?”
Sancho, who hails from the northern regions, had only experienced drinking with sweaty
guys at night, so Tudor’s idea intrigued him. Figgy, who had never had a proper conversation
with girls his age, watched Tudor with a mix of worry and anticipation.
“Hmm. I’m fine with it, but will the girls like me? They might think I’m just a musclehead
blinded by lust.”
“Haha! Come on, Sancho. Girls think similarly to guys. I’ve already had my eye on one lady
who matches my taste during the day. If we go to the designated spot at the specified time,
the girls will secretly open the back door to welcome us.”
“Can I come too? I hope I won’t be too much trouble…”
“Haha! The more, the merrier! That way, if we get caught, we’ll share the blame! And Figgy,
be confident! You’re a chubby, adorable guy, so there’s a high demand for your type!”
[TL/N: Cap.]
The conversation was going surprisingly well. Finally, Tudor successfully convinced Sancho
and Figgy, and he turned to Vikir with a tense expression.
Vikir said clearly once again, “Let’s go. I like girls.”
It was the most mismatched expression and statement in the world.
Tudor, trying to keep the conversation flowing, said, “You do know that we’re not going
there to have a duel with the girls, right? It’s just a friendly gathering.”
“Understood.”
Vikir nodded, and Sancho and Figgy followed suit.
“Vikir, are you feeling okay? If you’re in pain, please tell us. My ointment, made from herbs
I collected in the North, can heal not only the body but also the mind…”
“Vikir, what’s gotten into you? You’ve never shown any interest in girls before…”
Of course, Vikir had never shown any interest in girls, unlike the concerns of his friends. He
had other intentions.
“Tonight is the perfect opportunity to kill the demon.”
With the moon not yet rising on this dark night, it was the ideal hunting ground for a night
hound.
Vikir would use the pretext of a secret rendezvous to slip out of the dormitory and find a gap
in the strict security.
If he were to embark on an assassination and was detected early, he could possibly blame
other male students.
As is common with boys of his age, the girls his age are generally understanding and might
even smile with an air of indulgence at the sight of their young, foolish love.
Tudor was from a prominent noble family, and Sancho and Figgy were respectable students
at the academy, so their credentials were impeccable.
Even if Vikir was caught wandering the halls and searching for the girls’ dormitories, if he
said he got lost while looking for them, he might be able to avoid trouble.
Meanwhile, Tudor briefed the excited young students about today’s plan.
“Alright! Now that Vikir is on board, our roommates are all set. When we join the students
from other rooms, we’ll have quite a few people. First, we’ll go to the bathroom and act like
we’re using it when the clock tower’s midnight chime rings. Then we’ll head out into the
corridor, follow the ceiling ducts, climb the plumbing, and go up to the first-floor bathroom
window in the girls’ dormitory. The latch will be broken, and we’ll go up to the emergency
exit. The girls will write the room numbers for today’s rendezvous under a flowerpot…”
The plan for this little escapade, created by the kids, was surprisingly detailed and thorough.
Vikir, with a rare serious expression, seemed to blend in well with their youthful adventure.
The more male and female students participated in this rendezvous, the more they could
divert attention.
“Alright, like this. When the duty supervisors change and the roll call ends, we’ll meet by the
bathroom. As soon as the clock tower’s midnight chime rings, We’ll go.”
The young and excited puppies were thrilled by this brand-new escapade they had never
experienced before. But…
Among these fluffy bundles of energy, one experienced hunter hid sharp fangs.
*****
Chapter 152 The Drinking Game (1)
“Please, spare me. Vikir. Please! Just once!”
A newbie Tudor who dreams of becoming a great hero, once always confident and bold, is
now desperately begging.
“Ugh. Am I going to die like this? … Alright, kill me. Anyway, it’s impossible to beg for
mercy from Vikir.”
Sancho, the aspiring mercenary king aiming for the North’s supreme position, also faces
death with unwavering determination.
“Vikir! How could you betray us?! How could you do this to me?!”
Blood is just blood. But as he believed in Vikir more than anyone else, Figgy was the most
disappointed when the last moment came and the knife was thrust in.
…But Vikir mercilessly killed his friends.
“If you can’t be of use to me, you die.”
Vikir’s voice rang out dryly.
At the same time, a pair of Go stones moved.
Pieces of various colors moved across the spacious board.
Vikir’s black horse devoured Tudor’s blue horse, Sancho’s red horse, and Figgy’s yellow
horse.
At the same time, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy returned to their original starting line.
…With four empty glasses.
“Oh, I lost again! Why is this guy so good at board games?!”
“He’s probably had at least one liter of soju already.”
“…I feel like throwing up.”
Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy rolled the dice diligently all the way until now, watching the
distance they had covered reset in an instant, and seeing the glasses piling up before them,
they frowned.
Meanwhile, the female students were in an uproar, laughing and chatting.
“Vikir, you’re really good at board games.”
“Do you have a secret to throwing the dice?”
“He’s like someone who only eats and plays games! Hahaha!”
Wearing sweatpants, light makeup, and a faint soap smell instead of perfume. It was the
everyday attire of the usually reserved academy girls.
Late at night, male students who had sneaked into the girls’ dormitory were enjoying the
atmosphere of the drinking party with excited hearts.
Late at night, the lover boys led by Tudor secretly escaped from the boys’ dormitory to
infiltrate the girls’ dormitory.
The girls had already broken one of the locks on the window in the corner of the first-floor
bathroom, and the boys infiltrated through the first floor, climbed up the drainage pipe to the
second floor, and then the emergency exit to the third floor, finally making it to the fourth
floor, the girls’ territory.
Of course, there were moments when they were on the verge of being caught by the duty
officers, but today, the surveillance of the supervisors was unusually lax.
Perhaps they didn’t want to crack down so harshly on the secret meetings of the fresh young
men and women.
…Well, anyway.
That’s how the male and female students gathered in one room, playing board games.
The game was called “Yut,” and most of the penalties were related to drinking soju, but some
spaces had individual penalties when the pieces landed.
For example, “Hold hands with the person you like for 5 seconds,” “Kiss the forehead of the
person with red on their clothes for 10 seconds,” “Hug the person in front of you for 30
seconds,” and so on.
There were almost penalties at every space, and as they approached the finish line, the stakes
rose.
“…What’s this? It’s not a drinking game; it’s a dating game.”
Someone who was looking at the Yut board grumbled.
It was Bianca, sitting on the bed in her training clothes.
Then Tudor spoke up.
“Are you too lonely because there’s no one you want to date?”
“Maybe look in a mirror, idiot.”
Once again, a skirmish broke out between Tudor and Bianca.
Then, Sinclaire, who was next to them, intervened.
“Hey, why are you all like this? We’re just having fun.”
Sinclaire laughed like a gentle puppy.
She, who usually had a flawless image in her neat school uniform, looked quite unfamiliar in
a loose tank top and dolphin shorts.
Then the male students started whispering to each other.
“…Hmm. Maybe we should have paid less attention to our clothes?”
“Are you a fool? Do you think they didn’t pay attention to their clothes? That’s their battle
gear, man.”
Just as Sancho and Tudor were bickering.
“Yut.”
Vikir moved the pieces again.
Tudor and Sancho’s pieces were eaten again.
And then.
“Yut.”
“Mo.”
“Yut.”
“Mo.”
“Yut.”
“Mo.”
“Backdo.”
Vikir’s dark horse, carrying out a chain massacre by strategically alternating forward and
backward.
“Ugh! I died again! Hey, let’s have some different penalties!”
“…Just drink for the penalties.”
Tudor and Sancho regret bringing Vikir and picked up their glasses of soju.
Then, Dolores, the Saint, spoke up.
“Uh, guys… even though it’s like this, students and alcohol…”
She was sitting on her bed in an oversized t-shirt and comfortable shorts, contemplating a
complex issue.
“Those kids came for volunteer work during the Golden Holiday. It’s okay for them to have a
little fun. I won’t seem like an old fogey, right? But still, I should look a little sophisticated.
Will I seem like an old fogey?”
Seeing Dolores’s contemplation, Tudor smiled and raised his glass.
“Don’t worry, President! This is not alcohol; it’s a soft drink!”
Finally, Dolores looked relieved.
Of course, she didn’t know that there were some trace amounts of alcohol in certain soft
drinks.
Meanwhile, Vikir continued to dominate the board game.
Why was Vikir, who usually didn’t seek attention, performing so well in the game?
“…Brings back old memories.”
It was because of nostalgia.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
Yutnori, is a traditional Korean board game where players toss four sticks and move pieces
based on the results, played by advancing or retreating, and the horse, dog, sheep, cow, and
pig signs.
During the era of destruction, soldiers who were stationed in the field, either in ambush or on
standby, often played this game.
It wasn’t particularly fun, but there weren’t many board games available in the military other
than this one.
“…I remember playing this game endlessly while waiting in a foxhole at the 7th Plataue of
the Western Front.”
In the prolonged war and the prolonged standoff with the enemy, soldiers occasionally had
free moments in their daily lives.
At that time, among the few amusements that men could enjoy, Yutnori was one of them.
Back then, it was an old-fashioned game, often played only by soldiers on the front lines, and
there were many seasoned players, or card sharks, as the game could have been more
interesting.
“…Well, with throws like that, they would have been cleaned out by soldiers earning not
much more than them.”
During the era of destruction, most soldiers on the front lines were drawn to such
amusements.
Vikir didn’t particularly like gambling, but he often ended up playing it with his superiors,
which made him quite skilled.
Tak!
Yut, then Saribang, and Backdo.
Vikir’s dark horse moved forward and devoured one of Sinclaire’s white horses, which was
five spaces ahead.
Then, in the next turn, it moved back one space and ate another of Sinclaire’s white horses.
Two white horses were rolled back to the starting line.
Sinclaire, who had lost two pieces, said with a teary voice, “Big Brother! Are you a pro
gamer? Why are you so good at this? It’s frustrating to lose even in games when I’m already
lagging behind in my studies…”
She called him “Big brother” instead of “Oppa.”
Tudor, who had lost five horses to Vikir, asked in amazement, “No, you’re good at Yut, dice,
and cards… Is there any game you’re not good at?”
“None.”
Vikir said firmly.
His overwhelming confidence made everyone in the room cheer.
“Vikir! Vikir! Can I ride on your horse?”
“Um, can I see your face? Hehe, can I shave your bangs just once?”
“Can you take off your glasses and play, huh?”
“Aren’t you feeling stuffy? Shall I cut your hair a bit, especially your bangs?”
Some female students subtly approached Vikir and touched his arms, knees, or shoulders.
And another female student showed interest in Vikir.
“…You’re good at board games?”
It was none other than the Student Council President, Dolores.
“Then, perhaps you also know how to play ‘Baduk’ (Go)?”
She was confident about this one game, even if she didn’t know others.
Finally, Vikir nodded.
“I can play a bit.”
“Really? What’s your level in Baduk?”
“…Around 2nd dan.”
Dolores smiled inwardly.
“2nd Dan, huh. That’s not bad to brag about.”
By the way, she was an amateur 5-dan player.
From a young age, there was no one within the family who could challenge her in Baduk, so
they had to bring in external instructors. During her first year, she was the ace of the Baduk
club, and in her second year, she even took on the role of the club president with great
enthusiasm.
…Although it was disbanded later because no new students joined.
Afterward, no one played Baduk with her, and most people here didn’t know how to play
Baduk at all.
Dolores also became busier with various tasks, making it difficult for her to find time for a
leisurely game of Baduk. Consequently, her hobby naturally drifted away.
But now, here is a young man boasting about being good at all board games, with a meager
2nd dan level in Baduk.
“Wow, President! Are you going to play against Vikir?!”
“Unni, you’re so cool!”
“Our club president excels at everything, and she’s a newcomer specialized in board games!
How will the match turn out?!”
The atmosphere and the cheers from those around were welcoming Dolores’s participation.
Dolores, pretending not to lose to the enthusiasm around her, got up from her bed.
She had only watched board games from a distance and didn’t know how to play until now,
but things were different today.
The only board game she knew how to play and played exceptionally well was Baduk.
It had been a while since she had set up a board like this.
“Shall we enjoy a game for a change?”
She held up the portable Baduk board that Tudor had brought.
An amateur 5-dan player concealed her strength.
The difference in strength between Dolores and Vikir was like night and day.
And she was keeping this fact a secret as she sat down to play Baduk.
“What do you think about a penalty of one glass of soju for each house?”
Dolores boldly suggested penalties, and the students who had been previously overwhelmed
by Vikir cheered.
And then…
“…All right.”
As usual, Vikir nonchalantly nodded in agreement, as he had done all along.
*****
Chapter 153 – The Drinking Game (Part 2)
◎○○○◎
○◎◎◎○
○◎○○◎
○◎○◎○
◎○◎○◎
A white fortress had been built on the Baduk board.
Led by Dolores, the white army expanded its territory by building fortresses like ironclad
citadels in various places throughout the vast land and establishing small fortresses as
strongholds.
Dolores, an amateur 5-dan player, reigned as the Baduk queen on the board.
Her strong and unyielding defenses and progressive, decisive attacks were turning the entire
nation white with victory.
…It was supposed to be like this originally, right?
“Hmm.”
Unknowingly, Dolores let out a groan.
◎○○○◎
○◎◎◎○
○◎○○◎
○◎○●○
◎○●◎●
The pure white citadel, spotless and majestic. However, since earlier, hostile forces kept
invading this noble white citadel, leaving blemishes on its purity.
Vikir, along with the black knights he led, split into multiple groups to attack the white
citadel.
They infiltrated the narrowest of gaps with incredible agility, wreaking havoc inside and then
breaking through the opposite gap, resembling a black cavalry unit, leaving Dolores’s knights
helpless.
“This… isn’t a 2-dan level of power. He tricked me?!”
Dolores gathered her remaining forces to fortify the citadel’s walls.
She fortified the strongholds and made the corners more secure, thickening the walls of the
forts she had already occupied.
But the black cavalry broke through the pure white walls once again, ruthlessly trampling
everything in their path.
◎○○○◎
○◎●●○
○●●◎●
○●◎●◎
●◎●◎●
Where it was once white, it was now empty, filled with black.
“Oh no! If they keep coming in…”
Dolores gathered as many troops as possible, fortified the citadel’s walls, and secured the
fortresses’ passages.
The last bulwark, the final line, the land that would guarantee an unconditional victory if
defended.
…But it was always with the premise of “if it could be defended.”
Once again, Vikir’s black forces displayed their fangs.
Like spears, they tore down the white walls and ruthlessly devastated the interior, leaving
traces of black on the territory that Dolores had fiercely protected.
◎◎◎◎●
●●●●◎
◎◎◎○●
○○○●◎
●●●●◎
All of this ultimately led to the situation where the black hunting dogs were baring their
mouths at the entrance, a situation that seemed impossible to escape from.
“Got you.”
Vikir placed Dolores’s arm in his mouth.
[TL/N: It’s all hypothetical.]
If he exerted his jaw strength now, her right arm would be severed.
Left arm, right leg, left leg, torso, and eventually even her neck would be in the same fate.
Dolores’s forehead started to sweat as she witnessed the complete annihilation of her knights.
“What do I do? How can I…?”
No matter how much she thought, she couldn’t see a way to escape from the jaws of that
black monster.
The feeling of defeat was already creeping in.
And Dolores just couldn’t accept it.
Aren’t all Baduk players, in the end, game players, not fighters?
Even during the short time she had entered the sudden-death reading phase, she had gone
back and forth between heaven and hell multiple times.
And today, Dolores had met a real master for the first time.
“At the end of a game, you should shake hands.”
Vikir’s mental attack continued.
Meanwhile, Vikir was slightly surprised.
“…In this day and age, this level is probably around 5-dan.”
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
Dolores’s skill seems to be quite remarkable, but it’s more of Vikir being an exceptional
opponent. Vikir had experienced playing Baduk with many others on the battlefield before
returning.
One time, a sergeant who was good at Baduk said, “What’s your level? I’m around 1-dan. Of
course, that was the standard before the war.” He estimated that Vikir’s level would be
around 2-3 dan since his skills were slightly below his own.
“True, there haven’t been any institutions or tournaments for evaluating skills since the war
with the Demons.”
So perhaps? Vikir thought he might be around 2 dan, but he felt that if properly tested, he
would likely be at a much higher level.
And finally…
…Snap!
As the last stone was placed on the board, Dolores lowered her head deeply.
“I… I lost.”
No calculation could save her. The surrounding students let out a collective cheer.
“Wow! It’s the first time I’ve seen the Saint playing Baduk!”
“Our Student Council President was in the newspapers as a Baduk prodigy back in her
youth.”
“When Colosseo had a Baduk club, she even single-handedly annihilated the clubs from
Magic Tower and other academies… How is this possible?”
Since the opponent was Dolores, they were careful with their words.
Originally, harsh comments like “crushed” or “utterly defeated” would have been expected
results.
As Vikir began to clean up the board…
“Just a moment! One more game! This time, speed play!”
Dolores reached out her hands and clung to Vikir’s arm.
All Baduk players, especially those considered geniuses, were essentially game players.
Dolores was particularly competitive in this field.
Eventually, Vikir agreed to Dolores’s proposal.
The game would be speed play. The rule was simple: you had three seconds to make your
next move.
This way, the game would be significantly shorter.
Vikir and Dolores moved their game to the front of Dolores’s bed so as to not disturb the
other students’ drinking session.
However, the students, holding their cups, followed them, sitting around the board with
curiosity.
“It’s surprisingly fun to watch Baduk.”
“Yeah, when my father played, it was boring, but this is interesting.”
“I don’t really understand, but… they played very intensely just now, right?”
All eyes were on the battlefield, where the Saint and Vikir faced off once again.
…Snap!
…Snap!
…Snap!
…Snap!
…Snap!
…Snap!
…Snap!
…Snap!
Stones were placed on the board at an incredibly fast pace, alternating between black and
white.
And soon, Vikir’s dry voice rang out.
●◎●◎●●◎●◎●
◎●○●◎◎●○●◎
●○◎○●●○◎○●
◎●○●◎◎●○●◎
●◎●◎●●◎●◎●
●○●○●●○◎○●
◎●○●◎◎●○●◎
●○●○●●○◎○●
●◎●◎●●◎●◎●
◎●◎●◎◎●◎●◎
“(10,000 victories without a listener).”
As soon as she heard these words, Dolores seriously contemplated.
“…Should I flip the table?”
It was an act of violence she had never tried in the past fifteen years. But feeling the eyes of
those around her, Dolores had no choice but to speak in a weakened voice.
“I… lost.”
Only now did the students who had been breathlessly watching this fight finally cheer.
Sinclaire wiped her cold sweat and said, “I thought I was quite good at Baduk, but… I can’t
read his moves at all.”
Figgy also nodded in agreement. “Vikir’s style is not the current trend. No one among the
knights plays like this. It’s neither orthodox nor orderly. How can he play in this style?”
Meanwhile, Dolores couldn’t help but feel increasingly bewildered as she reviewed the game.
The basics of Baduk are about “building territory.” However, Vikir acted as if he had no
interest in building his territory. He was engaging in a chaotic battle, akin to a dogfight.
Vikir was more focused on destroying his opponent’s territory than building his own, like a
person with no rear support who crazily bites and gnashes at his opponent. In the end,
Dolores found herself completely overwhelmed by Vikir’s relentless attacks.
However, Dolores wasn’t paying much attention to the comments and discussions going on
around her. Her mind was in turmoil.
“Who am I? Where am I? Where am I going?”
Normally, anyone would take pride in being good at a board game, but not after getting
thoroughly defeated.
And so, after being completely thrashed once, everything they had been proud of in their
original world could be turned upside down.
Dolores had no choice but to swallow her humiliation. “Ugh.”
It felt like she had drunk too much-carbonated beverage, causing her to burp. She desperately
tried to suppress the urge to burp to hide her bloated stomach.
But then…
Burp!
A burp suddenly escaped her.
“What’s this? Could it be?”
Dolores finally looked around at the students with puzzled expressions.
Everyone was grinning and blushing.
“Ugh, they fooled me!”
Dolores also noticed that the label on the glass bottle she had been drinking from indicated a
significant amount of alcohol in the beverage.
“You guys tricked me…”
But Dolores, too, was gradually turning redder in the face, and her body was getting warmer.
“Ugh…”
Was it because of drinking too much carbonated beverage?
But then…
Thump, thump, thump.
Unexpected footsteps could be heard from outside the door.
Dolores suddenly felt the rush of inebriation disappear.
“The… the instructor is coming!”
Upon hearing Dolores’s words, everyone in the room abruptly regained their composure, as if
someone had suddenly thrown a bucket of cold water on them.
“Quick, hide the bottles!”
“Oh no! The ceiling panel won’t open suddenly! The window is too narrow to escape
through!”
“Then where should we hide the boys?”
“Under the beds! Into the blankets, everyone!”
“But how can we separate boys and girls?”
“Forget it! Act like a man!”
“Shut off the lights quickly!”
Everyone panicked. In that tense atmosphere…
Clack!
The sound of the door being unlocked and opened reached their ears. The instructor had
entered the room.
*****
Chapter 154
Chapter 154: The Drinking Game (3)
Click!
The female dormitory supervisor, responsible for the girls’ dorm, opened the door and peered
into the room. “Something seems strange? I thought I heard something.”
Inside the quiet room, with the window dimly lit by the moon, there were just some thick
clouds drifting slowly across the sky.
Various sounds…
If you listened carefully, you could hear quiet breathing.
The supervisor cautiously looked around the room to ensure the students weren’t awake.
…
Everyone was quietly lying on their beds, their heads covered with blankets. Nothing seemed
amiss, so the supervisor scratched her head in confusion.
“Did I hear wrong?”
But she wouldn’t know. She would never know that she didn’t hear wrong.
In fact, at this moment, some rather peculiar scenes were unfolding within the cocoon-like
blankets in which everyone was hiding.
“Hey, move away a bit. You’re too close.”
“How can I move away? Do you want to get expelled together?”
Under the blankets, Bianca was lying with the blanket pulled over her head, and right below
her, Tudor was lying rigidly, practically on top of her.
The two of them were engaged in a fierce, silent struggle, despite their usual animosity.
They heard their hearts pounding so loudly that they thought they’d be heard. They were
clutching each other to keep their emotions in check.
“Argh! Why did you have to end up on my bed of all places?”
“The situation was dire, and I had no choice!”
“It’s gross, so stop whispering in my ear. Your breath is hitting my ear!”
“Shh! We might get caught!”
Tudor and Bianca pushed their hearts to their limit as they huddled together, trying to restrain
their rising panic.
They both raised their heads and noticed the shadow of the supervisor, illuminated faintly by
the moonlight, drawing closer on the other side of the white blanket.
“Ugh!”
Tudor and Bianca both jumped in shock as the supervisor’s shadow approached them.
The normally contentious pair clung to each other, making the previously unusually tall
blanket bunch up a bit lower.
And this phenomenon was common to all the other beds in the room.
Meanwhile, Dolores, lying under her bed with the blanket pulled over her head, was
reflecting on the recent turn of events.
Where had it all gone wrong? How had everything ended up like this?
Just seconds before the door had opened, she had hurriedly jumped into her bed, snuffed out
all the candles, and drawn the blanket over herself.
Everything had happened in the blink of an eye.
The original residents of the room, female students, had rushed into their own beds, and the
closest male students had followed them onto those beds. Once everyone was under the
covers, the lights went out.
Dolores, with her extraordinary observational skills and memory, could recall exactly which
male student had followed which female student into the beds. She knew the lights had gone
out just as the couples had settled in their respective beds.
Clearly, Tudor had gone into Bianca’s bed, Figgy into Sinclaire’s bed, and Sancho into…
However, the female and male ratios worked out such that one female student had to hide a
male student. That meant…
“Who’s on my bed?”
Dolores remembered the face of the male student who had been closest to her.
Vikir.
As she thought about his indifferent expression, Dolores’s face suddenly turned bright red.
Vikir was going to enter her bed soon.
She didn’t know what to do in this situation she had never experienced before. Dolores
grabbed the corner of the blanket, and her hands became moist.
…
…
But why wasn’t Vikir getting into her bed even after some time had passed?
Ironically, Dolores was the one feeling anxious as the crucial moment neared. The dorm
supervisor might enter at any moment, so what was he doing in such a hurry?
“…?”
Dolores lowered the blanket slightly and looked outside the bed, while Vikir stood silently,
staring at the corner of the ceiling.
“It’s time.”
The youngsters were moderately drunk and having a good time. Now, everyone would either
lie down in their beds and sleep or return to the dormitory.
Vikir seized this opportunity to escape through the hole in the ceiling, planning to assassinate
Quilt. He figured he had already built a sufficient alibi at this point.
“Since I’m going to disappear anyway, I guess they’ll just get scared and head back to the
boys’ dormitory,” he thought.
So Vikir chose this moment to disappear, avoiding everyone’s gaze. Just as he was about to
leap towards the ceiling…
“What are you doing right now?”
A hand grabbed Vikir’s clothing.
It was Saint Dolores. She had a bewildered look and was pulling Vikir with her swirling eyes.
“Uh?”
Dolores herself was so flustered that even Vikir seemed equally surprised. With a face
covered in cold sweat, and swirling eyes, she grabbed Vikir’s clothing and dragged him into
her own blanket.
“Wait, just a mome…”
Vikir didn’t have time to say anything in his defense. The blanket was abruptly pulled over
them, and he ended up lying on top of Dolores.
And at that moment…
Creak…
The door opened, and the supervisor entered the room.
***
“Did I mishear something?”
The supervisor’s voice came from outside the blanket, near the head.
Dolores felt her eyes spinning and screamed inwardly, ‘No! You heard it right! I’m sorry!
I’m so sorry!’
Underneath her, Vikir was lying flat, and they were so close that their noses almost touched.
Vikir let out a quiet sigh, realizing that he was wasting time in this situation. If he missed this
opportunity, he might not get another chance to assassinate Quilt. He had already created a
sufficient alibi.
However, Vikir’s sigh seemed to hold a different meaning for Dolores.
“It’s hot!” The feeling of someone’s breath near her ear made it burn. The alcohol from
earlier seemed to be taking its toll, and she was sweating and feeling bloated.
Dolores inwardly begged, ‘Please, just go away!’
But the supervisor, oblivious to the desires of everyone in the room, continued to look
around.
“Hmm, it’s a bit dry in here. I hope our academy’s volunteers don’t have sore throats. Should
I sprinkle some water on the floor?”
“The window is rattling in the wind. Someone who can’t sleep in a bright room might wake
up.”
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
“Is the room temperature suitable? I hope it’s not too cold for anyone. Since everyone is
sleeping with their blankets pulled tightly, are they feeling cold?”
The supervisor’s warm considerations paradoxically added to the torment of everyone in the
room.
Especially for Dolores, who was trying to hold in her urine beneath the blanket. She couldn’t
take it anymore.
‘Please, leave quickly!’
However, the supervisor either didn’t know or didn’t care about the wishes of the room’s
occupants. She kept inspecting the room.
“Uh, it’s a bit chilly. How about adjusting the heating? It’s a bit warm in here, and I hope no
one is feeling too hot with their blankets.”
The supervisor’s words were causing more distress.
In the midst of this, Vikir was at a loss when Dolores’s insistent grip on his waist made him
pause. He couldn’t understand the reason behind her sudden action.
Dolores raised her hands and gripped Vikir’s back, pleading desperately in her mind, “Please
don’t move!”
She couldn’t speak, but her eyes begged him not to change his position. Any movement from
Vikir would lead to a drastic change in their situation due to the urgent circumstances.
Vikir, unable to comprehend the situation fully, hesitated for a moment but eventually
decided to move. As he lifted himself away from Dolores, he felt her grip loosen slightly.
Dolores, who was feeling the unbearable urge to urinate, had used her last bit of strength to
beg for Vikir’s stillness.
She needed the slightest relief from the intense pressure building up inside her. She prayed
that Vikir had noticed her silent plea. Vikir was aware of something, but he couldn’t
understand it entirely.
With a light breath, he tried to adjust himself, believing that she might have felt
uncomfortable. But as he moved away…
Thump!
A loud sound echoed as a palm slammed against the bedpost just above Dolores’s head.
The supervisor, standing right in front of Dolores’s bed, had delivered the striking blow.
All in the room froze in silence, shocked by the sudden loud noise. Dolores, who had heard
the sound up close, was the most stunned.
The shadow of the supervisor, cast by the moonlight, was so close that it almost touched her.
Had they been discovered? Was their secret exposed?
In the silence that felt like an eternity, everyone waited for the inevitable.
…….
Before long, the supervisor muttered to herself, “…Oh? Is it because it’s hot? Mosquitoes in
this weather.”
She raised her hand and quickly retracted it as if she realized something. “Oh my, get a grip
of yourself. Oops, I made such a loud noise. I apologize to the volunteers.”
The supervisor bowed several times to the sleeping girls and quickly left the room. The door
closed with a thud, and the sound of the supervisor’s footsteps faded into the distance.
After a brief silence, the blankets on the beds began to be lifted one by one.
“Phew, I thought we got caught.”
“I was really scared. That’s why I cried a little.”
“This is too thrilling, seriously. Haha!”
Male and female students gradually sat up on their beds and spoke.
…
…
Some of them stared at each other like Tudor and Bianca, their faces turning red, but most of
them seemed to consider it a fun situation.
…However.
There was one person here for whom this incident was not enjoyable.
“! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !”
Saint Dolores, the academy’s student council president.
Despite the supervisor leaving, she was the only one who couldn’t bring herself to get out
from under the blanket.
‘What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I
do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should
I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What
should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?
What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I
do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should
I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What
should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?
What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I
do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’
Cold sweat poured down like rain, her eyes rolled, and her vision flickered.
…She messed up. She really messed up.
A warm, moist sensation was already rising from her lower half. It was so overwhelming that
it couldn’t be denied as just sweat or moisture.
And to make matters worse, the color of that liquid was just perfect…
If only she had thrown away her own bed, blanket, and clothes, it wouldn’t have mattered,
but the fact that she had completely soaked Vikir’s pants, which had been tightly stuck to her,
meant there was no way to hide it.
What about the smell?
What would happen if this fact became known to the outside world?
The dignified and compassionate image she had built up until now would be completely
shattered.
About two more years until graduation. It was obvious what kind of nickname would stick
with her during that time.
“The Bedwetter.”
It was pitiful. Dolores would probably suffer for years because of this nickname.
Was this going to have a negative impact on the honor of the Quovadis Clan? It could be a
great excuse for internal feuds within the family.
Dolores foresaw a negative future and burst into tears.
So why? Even though all the other students had thrown off their blankets and left their beds,
she was still curled up under the blanket.
Maybe she didn’t know how to face Vikir, who was on top of her right now.
…And at that very moment.
Rip!
The blanket was forcefully pulled away.
Vikir pushed Dolores away and came out of bed.
No hesitation, no mercy.
“Oh!”
Dolores thought it was really the end. Now Vikir would express disgust about being dirty,
and the atmosphere in the room would quickly become awkward. The mood was completely
ruined, and countless gossip would be generated.
Her mind was spinning around.
The cold sweat had already drenched her whole body.
Her body was hot, and her tongue wouldn’t obey her.
“…Should I just jump out the window?”
Dolores looked out the window and even had extreme thoughts.
But there was one word that suddenly brought her back to her senses.
“The drinking party is now over.”
Vikir’s deep and firm tone grabbed everyone’s attention. Tudor retrieved a remaining bottle
of alcohol from under the bed and looked puzzled.
“What are you talking about? The night is just beginning! The drinking games start now!”
“No. It ends here.”
“…?”
Vikir was so assertive like this for the first time, so Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy all looked at
each other with surprised expressions.
Then, Vikir threw off the blanket completely and stepped forward in front of everyone.
His pants were damp and had turned yellow. The sight of it made everyone’s eyes widen as if
they were about to pop out.
Naturally, the gazes that had been focused on Vikir’s lower half shifted toward Dolores’s
lower half on the bed.
Similarly, the bed and the blanket were both damp and had turned yellow. The expressions of
all the men and women in the room were filled with shock.
Dolores, seeing all their eyes falling upon her like arrows, covered her face with both hands.
She felt her self-esteem, despair, shame, self-reproach, helplessness, and screams all swirling
endlessly within her.
…
…But right at that moment, there was a lifeline to catch Dolores as she fell into the abyss.
“I drank a lot of alcohol and wet myself.”
It was Vikir’s hand.
*****
Chapter 155: Rules for Night Shift Workers’ Safety (1)
“That’s how it happened. I’m sorry.”
Vikir turned back and offered an apology.
Dolores, with a blank expression, couldn’t even respond properly.
And those around her, seeing Dolores’ blank expression, could only misunderstand.
“Vikir?! Are you crazy?! Why are you so confident?”
“The Saint must have fainted from shock!”
“Ah! Sister, let’s hurry to the shower room! I’ll help you!”
Who in the world would urinate on the Saint’s lap?
In truth, even seeing it with their own eyes, it was hard to believe.
Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy were also stunned by this unprecedented disaster, almost fainting.
Sinclaire and Bianca, too, could only stammer like dumbstruck fish, unable to speak.
Only one person remained calm and rational, and that was Vikir.
“People can make mistakes when they drink.”
That was Vikir’s way of consoling Dolores, trying to say not to make a big deal out of it.
But from the perspective of the other students watching this, it was simply mind-boggling.
“Saint, declare the sanctuary.”
“Vikir! Quickly kneel down and pray! Otherwise, you’ll be expelled!”
“It’s a crusade! The Crusaders of Quovadis will rise!”
Meanwhile…
“….”
Dolores sat there, her mouth slightly agape, unable to say a word.
Her vision spun.
“What on earth is happening right now? Why is everyone yelling at Vikir? I’m the one who
urinated.”
Various thoughts swirled in Dolores’s mind, paralyzing her.
Panic. For the first time, she lost her composure.
Normally, she would have accepted the nickname “Pee-ress” rather than let others cover her
name with shame.
[TL/N: Word play on priestess~]
But Dolores was in such a daze that she couldn’t distinguish whether this reality was real or a
nightmare.
And she even showed signs of temporary aphasia.
Sinclaire and Bianca, as if her soul had left her, approached Dolores from both sides.
“P-President, let’s take her to the bathroom first.”
“Why aren’t you people looking away?! Shall I shoot you with an arrow?”
Sinclaire and Bianca half carried the almost unconscious Dolores to the bathroom.
The remaining female students, hesitating, began cleaning Dolores’s bed.
The male students didn’t dare move recklessly and looked around.
Eventually, Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and the other male students approached Vikir, sounding
incredulous.
“V-Vikir. You didn’t really pee, did you? Tell me it’s not true, please.”
“You sweated… you must have sweated explosively with your lower body, my friend.”
“Please, Vikir! You’ve urinated on the Saint’s lap! This is sacrilege!”
But Vikir didn’t listen to his friends’ words.
He carried Dolores’s shame on his back for two reasons.
First, as a small token of gratitude for the blessing he received from Saint Dolores before his
reincarnation.
Back then, Dolores, known as the Saint of the battlefield, saved many wounded soldiers from
the brink of death, and Vikir was one of the soldiers who received her help.
Although Dolores at the time didn’t remember Vikir’s name or face and passed by without a
second thought, Vikir still remembered and cherished that grace through his second life.
And the second reason was, of course, the assassination.
Quilt. He had to kill that guy before the night was over.
In fact, there was little room for indulging in this childish prank.
“We need to finish the drinking session quickly.”
At that moment, the Saint conveniently provided a good excuse for Vikir.
“Sorry, guys. I turn into a dog when I drink.”
A dog is a dog. A hunting dog.
When Vikir apologized, his friends surprisingly forgave him with a kind heart.
“Ugh, the drinking session is over. Well, nothing we can do.”
“But it will definitely be a memorable memory.”
“Vikir… I’ll find you a good place to transfer. You won’t forget it. Hm… Hm…”
Tudor and Sancho forced a fake laugh, and Figgy shed tears, worrying about Vikir’s future.
They could all see how much Vikir’s actions had made school life difficult for the Saint and
all the female students in this room.
… Of course.
“Alright, I’m heading back now. Sorry for the cleaning. Let the Saint know that she can
request laundry fees later.”
Vikir himself didn’t care much.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
Late at night, the male infiltrators who had sneaked into the girls’ dormitory returned to the
boys’ dormitory under the cover of a yawn. Just before going to their respective rooms, Vikir
intentionally lagged behind.
“I’ll stop by the laundry room for a moment.”
There was a convenient excuse for washing the urinated pants, so no one suspected anything.
Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy patted Vikir on the back as he headed towards the laundry room.
“Stay strong, Vikir. Even if you accidentally blasphemed the sacred woman, I’m your friend.
Our support will give you strength.”
“Even if you get expelled, don’t worry about your job. I’ll recommend you to the Northern
Mercenary Guild. With my recommendation, you should have no problem with an office
job.”
“Hey, guys. Let’s leave Vikir alone now. Vikir! I’m on your side, of course! I’m a
commoner, but I might be able to help you in our household!”
After these words, everyone quickly went into their rooms as if giving Vikir some time alone.
Until the door closed, they exchanged comments related to Vikir.
What if… ‘The Saint won’t expel him so easily,’ ‘If we make this incident public, it will
harm everyone because they secretly drank alcohol at night,’ ‘It would be better if this
incident was quietly buried,’ and so on.
Meanwhile…
“…”
Vikir returned to the laundry room, threw off his wet clothes, and quickly changed into the
outfit he had hidden. Night Hunter. He wrapped his body in a black cloak and wore a plague
doctor mask on his face, assuming the disguise of a mysterious monster.
Now, the hunting dog was on the hunt.
“The timing couldn’t be better.”
Tudor and Bianca had managed the meetings between male and female students well, so
Vikir was well aware of the schedule for changing shifts and patrol routes.
He had memorized the layouts and structures of each building during his volunteer work.
Vikir made his way to the laundry room with his eyes closed.
He soon faced the circular buildings that surrounded the dormitory where Quilt resided. The
first one was the 4th building where the 17-19-year-olds stayed, the second was the 3rd
building for 13-16-year-olds, the third was the 2nd building for 8-12-year-olds, and the fourth
was the 1st building for newborns.
To reach the room where Quilt was hiding, Vikir had to pass through these four buildings and
enter deep inside. Vikir descended from the rooftop and headed to the back door of the 4th
building.
He shook the window latch, which he had loosened in advance, and the window opened with
a click.
Clink! Swish!
Vikir slipped through the window like a ghost, and in no time, he could see the quiet corridor
of the 4th building.
And…
“…!”
Vikir spotted a sign affixed to a door on the quiet corridor as if it were holding his gaze. It
was eerie and significant enough to momentarily hold Vikir’s attention as he was about to
enter the corridor.
< Inner Door >
In order to ensure the safety of night shift employees, the orphanage provides the following
rules.
※The contents below must not be leaked to the outside, and the orphanage will not provide
any compensation for accidents resulting from violating these rules.
*****
Chapter 156: Rules for Night Shift Workers’ Safety (2)
[Inner Door]
In order to ensure the safety of night shift employees, the orphanage provides the following
rules.
※The contents below must not be leaked to the outside, and the orphanage will not provide
any compensation for accidents resulting from violating these rules.
This notice was definitely not there during the daytime.
“…for the safety of night shift employees.”
Vikir muttered quietly.
Below the sign, various precautions were written.
(1) If you find a child alone in the hallway during your night patrol, ignore them and return
the way you came. If the child approaches you or tries to hand you something, immediately
leave the area at the highest possible speed.
The orphanage strictly prohibits the passage of children in the hallways at night, and under no
circumstances are children left alone without any guardians.
(2) If a group of children, regardless of gender, approaches you and says that there is a
problem with the water pipes in room 66 on the 6th floor of the main building, answer, “I
understand,” and lock the door to the guard’s office. After that, hum your favorite song.
‘They’ dislike singing.
For your information, there are a total of 65 rooms on the 6th floor of the main building, and
there is no room 66 in the building.
(3) Self Pleasure is strictly prohibited within the orphanage, regardless of gender, under any
circumstances, in any way.
(4) If, while patrolling the halls, you find that no matter how far you walk, you never seem to
get to your destination, and you keep seeing the same scenery over and over again, you
should immediately exit by the fire escape stairs, crouch down with your forehead against the
wall in the corner, close your eyes, and cover your ears.
Daytime security personnel will check the emergency exit stairs first when they come to
work. Maintain this state until you hear the sound of a rooster crowing in the morning.
* If there is anything else on the list below that negates item #4, you should never pay
attention to it.
(5) Sometimes, there are cases of finding a suicide victim. This is a common incident that
other orphanages also experience, so follow the usual procedure. However, if you find the
body of a young child hanging from an ordinary place, carefully check if there is something
under their feet.
If there is nothing, and you wonder how the child could have climbed up there and hung
themselves, leave the area immediately and go to the guard’s office, turn off the lights, and
lock the door.
Pay special attention to the order: turn off the lights and lock the door, not the other way
around. In this case, do not sing or make any noise at all.
‘They’ have sensitive hearing.
(6) If you are patrolling the hallway and hear strange sounds in your ears, even when there is
nothing around, immediately crouch down, lie flat on the ground, keep your body low, and do
not make any sound. When the sound stops, call another staff member to find and erase the
stain on the ceiling.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
(7) There should always be two nighttime patrollers. Without exception, no exceptions.
(8) If someone is wandering in the center of the lake above the orphanage, never approach
them and lock all the doors to the rooms in the hallway. Lock all the windows on the ceiling
and attic on the top floor as well.
For your information, the depth of the lake is 35 meters.
(9) Never knock on a door in an empty room, and do not pull the door latch more than three
times. Also, under no circumstances should you put your ear to the door and eavesdrop.
(10) If a child you’ve never seen before comes and asks for the name or address of a
nighttime patroller, never answer. If you are wearing a name tag, there is no reason for them
to ask for your name, and asking for an address is a violation of personal information, so it is
not allowed according to the orphanage’s rules.
As stated in number (1), the orphanage does not allow children to be left alone without a
guardian.
(11) If some children, half of their upper bodies sticking out of the railing, ask for help
outside the central part of the 6th floor of the main building, never take a step closer. Do not
look back and leave the area as quickly as possible.
Also, try to shout loudly or sing a song.
The location is just an ordinary wall in terms of the building’s structure, and there is no 7th
floor in the main building.
(12) If you need to go to the bathroom during your night shift, be sure to take a companion
with you.
No matter how often or inconvenient it is, always make sure two or more people enter the
restroom.
But the best way is not to go to the restroom at night.
(13). If you hear whimpering from inside a wall while walking down the hallway,
immediately burst into laughter loudly until the moaning turns into crying. Once the crying
stops, quickly leave the area and lock the door to the guard post. The next morning, do not
check the attendance of the daycare center children for three days.
(14). Number 4 does not exist in this handbook; all orphanages would leave that ominous
number blank.
IF you see something written in the number 4, always do the opposite.
Number 4 should never be followed.
*If you see anything else in the list above that contradicts #14, disregard it.
[TL/N: My god this was well-written and spooky.]
Vikir felt a sinister presence in the guide, and he nodded his head. “A shallow trick,” he
thought. It’s a typical method of demons that stimulates human fear and turns it into
nourishment. Even if the night guard really saw something, they would probably dismiss it as
a simple problem caused by violating discipline.
Vikir ignored the guide and groped his way into the darkness of the hallway. The security
room in the central lobby of the corridor was closed with the lights off, and there was no
sound coming from inside.
‘The night guards must have seen something and ran away.’
It made his job easier.
Vikir quietly passed in front of the security room and headed inside the building where the
3rd section was.
Right then.
“…!”
Vikir stopped in his tracks. At the end of the long corridor, something was standing there. A
girl wearing white pajamas, standing still and gazing in this direction. It was Nymhet.
“…”
Nymphet looked at Vikir with an expression that somehow felt strange, then disappeared to
the other side of the corridor. Vikir hurriedly moved toward the spot where Nymphet had
been. But when he turned the corner, Nymphet was already gone, and in its place, only a torn
curtain scrap lay on the floor.
“What’s this? Did I see something useless?”
Frowning, Vikir bent down and picked up the curtain scrap that had fallen on the floor. Then,
the writing on the curtain scrap deeply engraved itself in Vikir’s retina.
“Please save me.”
Vikir’s mind flashed back to the number 1 he saw in the guide he read earlier.
“This place feels really unpleasant.”
Vikir immediately began to chase Nymphet. He had the building’s layout in his mind and
focused on tracking spaces where Nymphet could disappear in the blink of an eye.
However, something is strange.
“Is this…?”
From the moment Vikir saw Nymphet, he realized that the same scenery repeated every time
he turned a corner in the corridor. The same wall, the same ceiling, the same floor, the same
window, and even the same view outside the window.
Vikir furrowed his brow lightly.
‘Is this an illusion? Have I fallen into a trap?’
Naturally, the guide he had read earlier came to mind. The 4th and 14th items were precisely
about this.
‘Did it say something about going to the emergency exit stairs, crouching in a corner, closing
your eyes, and waiting until dawn?’
But the last 14th item vehemently negated that. Which option should Vikir follow, the 4th or
the 14th?
In the direction Vikir turned his head, he could see the emergency exit stairs illuminated by
the green mana lamp. Being trapped in this ongoing maze of corridors, it seemed like he
should at least exit through the emergency stairs.
Creak…
Vikir twisted the rusty doorknob on the outer edge of the corridor and opened it.
The emergency exit stairs were dimly lit in green and the eerie shadows that cast them.
However, when he opened the door, an unexpected sight met Vikir’s eyes.
There was someone who had arrived at the emergency exit stairs before Vikir. A girl, with
her eyes tightly closed and trembling, reciting a prayer while pressing her forehead against
the wall. It was clearly ‘Dolores,’ the student council president, the saintess of Quovadis.
She was reciting a prayer on the wall of this emergency exit, seemingly out of nowhere.
Vikir could only let out a light sigh under his mask.
“…What on earth is she doing here?”
*****
Chapter 157: Rules for Night Shift Workers’ Safety (3)
Vikir exhaled a light sigh.
“…What is she doing here?”
Saint Dolores. Wasn’t she headed to the shower room?
So why was she here in the 4th ward at such an ambiguous hour, far from the girls’
dormitory…?
Vikir adjusted his mask that covered his face.
He was ready to modify his voice.
Then, he reached out and lightly tapped Dolores’s shoulder.
“…Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us and lead us not into
temptation but deliver us from evil… Kyaah!?”
As Vikir’s hand touched her, Dolores jumped as if she might faint.
Then, she opened her eyes even wider, shivering as if she were extremely frightened. It
seemed she couldn’t even think about opening her eyes.
“Our Father who art in heaven…”
“Stop reciting the Lord’s Prayer and open your eyes for now.”
Vikir said, deliberately scratching his voice.
Dolores, with her hands tightly clenched, carefully opened one eye.
“Ah!?”
At last, Dolores’s expression turned to shock.
For a long time, she simply stared at Vikir’s mask, and then she finally stammered.
“Ni-Ni-Night Hound…?”
“It’s been a while.”
As Vikir nodded, Dolores’s expression again became absent-minded.
Then, she barely managed to speak.
“Nice to see you… after a long time.”
She had a lot she wanted to say, but her words were too small.
She didn’t know where to begin, and her chest was tight. She had too many questions, such as
why he vanished without a trace after the pandemic, why he had been attacking the Quovadis
sub-guilds and orphanages, how he had been doing at the time, and, most importantly, who
he truly was.
There were too many things she wanted to ask.
Despite being a seventeen-year-old girl, who had easily taken on roles like the Academy’s
3rd-year student council president, head of the newspaper club, and even the Saint of
Quovadis, at this moment, she was just as flustered as an ordinary young girl.
Meanwhile, Vikir got to the point.
“Why are you here?”
“Um… Well…”
This time, Dolores started to hesitate for a completely different reason.
What she was recalling was just a few minutes ago.
After the boys had all left, Dolores finally came to her senses.
“Haah!?”
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
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*****
It was only when she returned to her room after thoroughly washing herself with warm water
that she noticed the neatly made beddings that her friends had prepared.
“I’m in big trouble!”
Dolores, who had been nearly out of her mind until now, finally realized the seriousness of
the situation.
She had peed herself, but someone had falsely accused an innocent person. What’s more, he
was the one who got blamed for wetting himself, even though he was the victim! Apologizing
wouldn’t be enough to make up for it; the blame had been shifted to someone else. It was
truly a situation where the roles of the victim and the perpetrator had been completely
reversed.
If Dolores remained silent like this, Vikir would end up with the worst possible image. A 1st-
year newcomer wetting himself on a 3rd-year senior, the student council president no less!
This was a very serious matter, especially given the zealousness of Dolores’s fan clubs within
the Academy, who might even go so far as to issue assassination threats.
“This can’t stand! I have to fix this!”
Although it was late, there was work to be done.
Dolores approached the female students who were gathered and gossiping.
“After peeing on the Saint’s lap, he still had the audacity to act like that. How absurd! But for
some reason, it wasn’t uncool?”
“Standing there confidently, wearing wet pants… that unbalanced figure slightly thrilled
me…”
“There’s something oddly pitiful about that pathetic sight that somehow awakened my
maternal instincts… I want to protect him. Change his diaper, and feed him milk.”
The conversation about the incident seemed to be going in a strange direction.
But Dolores didn’t hear any of that. So she closed her eyes tightly and just spoke the truth.
“Hey, everyone! Vikir didn’t do anything wrong! I was the one who peed!”
Instantly, the eyes of the female students widened.
…
After a moment of silence, everyone, including Bianca, heaved a sigh of relief and patted
Dolores on the shoulder.
“You really are the Saintess aren’t you, president..”
“Unni, you don’t need to take on that ‘pisser’ label for that guy.”
“Your sacrifice is admirable. If it were me, no matter how close we were, I don’t think I
could have defended him to that extent. Let alone being a complete stranger…”
Everyone looked skeptical of Dolores’s words.
“No, no! Believe me! I was the one who peed earlier, not Vikir!”
Dolores, in frustration, revealed the truth, but no one believed that Dolores could have been
the one who wet herself. However, they were in awe of Dolores’s selfless sacrifice in
defending Vikir.
“Oh, I can’t stand it!”
Dolores decided to give up on explaining. Instead, she immediately took action to clear up
the misunderstanding.
Even if it meant getting caught by the supervisors, she would go outside, meet Vikir, and
formally apologize. It was late, but if she requested an urgent meeting with the supervisors,
they might be able to bring Vikir from the boys’ dormitory.
“The sooner I explain, the better.”
Dolores left the girls’ dormitory floor and headed toward the boys’ dormitory. She wanted to
express her gratitude for taking on her mistake and apologize for not explaining it earlier.
And at that moment, Dolores saw something strange happening on the outer wall of the
dormitory.
“…!”
Dolores, who was heading to meet with the supervisors, abruptly stopped in her tracks. What
she had just seen was undoubtedly a black cloak with a mask that resembled a crows’s beak.
The enigmatic thief who had been elusive, who had even appeared countless times in her
dreams. An endlessly suspicious and unfathomable existence.
“The Night Hound” was roaming beneath the moon veiled by dark clouds.
Dolores had forgotten everything she had been thinking until now. She started moving in the
direction the Night Hound was heading.
There was no thought of catching or stopping him. However…
“…I just wanted to talk.”
At Dolores’s words, Vikir chuckled beneath his mask.
He knew what she was curious about. She wanted to know why he stole the Saint’s tears and
why he had been annihilating Quovadis’ orphanages and sub guilds-
Dolores’s hand tightly gripped Vikir’s collar.
Her pupils trembled like ripples on a lake.
“Why… Why did you do that? That day and that time… you disappeared without a word.”
“…”
“Tell me. You’re not like that, right? It wasn’t you who did those things to our family’s sub-
guilds, right? There’s some misunderstanding, right?”
“…”
“Say something. Anything. Please…”
Dolores clenched Vikir’s collar with her small fists. Eventually, she lowered her head and
pressed her forehead against Vikir’s chest, her voice filled with moisture.
“You’re not that kind of person. Everyone talks about you like some villain…”
How should he respond to this? In Dolores’s voice, he felt not just trust but also a kind of
camaraderie deeper than he had expected.
‘…Is it because of the ‘Red Death’ incident from before?’
During the process of treating numerous plague patients, emotions resembling camaraderie or
camaraderie could have sprung up.
However, the emotions Dolores was experiencing seemed much stronger and deeper than
what Vikir had anticipated.
Before Vikir could open his mouth to say something…
“…!”
Vikir detected a strange sound in his ear.
Hoo… Huk… Grrkk…
It was as if the breath of a beast, mixed with the sound of bubbling blood, was coming from
somewhere nearby.
Dolores also seemed to sense the ominous atmosphere in the air.
She grabbed Vikir’s collar with trembling hands.
“Did you… read the emergency message?”
“…Yes.”
Vikir nodded in response. They were standing on the emergency exit stairs, which were the
background for options 4 and 14. And the unsettling sound they heard seemed to remind them
of option 6 in the emergency message.
(6) If you hear strange breathing-like sounds even though there is nothing around you while
patrolling the hallway, immediately lower your body, lie down on the floor, make your body
as small as possible, and do not make any noise. Once the sound stops, call another staff
member and find and erase the stain on the ceiling.
[Ephebo…]
‘He’s here’
*****
Chapter 158: A Familiar Face (Part 1)
[Sigh, rumble…]
This guy hanging from the ceiling, emitting an unpleasant sound, is undoubtedly Ephebo.
He is one of the four hounds serving Quilt, along with Geronto, Pedo, and Hebe.
Vikir quickly scanned Ephebo’s entire body.
“Has he fully recovered by now? He’s truly devilish.”
His broken bones, lost flesh, and internal organs that seemed to have exploded all appeared
perfectly fine.
But Vikir, being a seasoned hound in battles against demons, didn’t get flustered.
Vikir prepared for battle and calmly began to calculate the next move.
…But Dolores wasn’t so composed.
“Huh? Ephebo? Why is he here…?”
For a moment, she seemed paralyzed, her face showing bewilderment.
Why would a knight of the Indulgentia family be in a place like this at this hour?
And Vikir offered some advice.
“If you keep staring like that, you’ll die.”
Thump!
Soon enough, Ephebo, who had fallen from the ceiling, raised a huge hammer he was
carrying and swung it at Vikir.
“As expected, your strength is remarkable.”
Vikir stepped back, still carrying Dolores on his back.
Beelzebub started trembling by the impact.
Quovadis’s mace techniques consumed an excessive amount of energy when confronted
head-on.
Vikir leaped away across the corridor.
This place was a labyrinth created by demons, with endless passages, so the terrain wouldn’t
hinder them.
Vikir gently put Dolores down on the ground and said, “This is as far as I can shield you. I
can’t afford to protect you any longer.”
Dolores tried to say something, but Vikir had no time for that.
…Thump!
Ephebo crawled down to the ground.
[Rumble! Crumble!]
His joints were grotesquely contorted, even more so than when they had met before.
His thick arms, like tree trunks, were longer than his legs and dragged along the ground,
while his legs had more joints than a typical human’s, bending in bizarre directions.
He looked like a demon.
And when Dolores saw this, her eyes turned cold.
Ephebo was a member of the Old Faction faction, but for now, he was an ally, belonging to
the same Quovadis.
However, the sight before her eyes was unmistakably that of a demon.
“…Why is there a demon here?”
“It’s not a demon; it’s Ephebo, you know.”
“So, I mean… Why did Ephebo turn into a demon…? Are you saying he was a demon from
the beginning?”
Dolores looked at Ephebo with a mix of astonishment and shock.
He was a man who had received the rank of knight of the Indulgentia lineage in Quovadis.
He always wore a mask, so no one had ever seen his face, but he had a good image for
enduring even the most arduous tasks.
‘What in the world is happening within my family?’
Dolores felt puzzled, but it wasn’t the right time to investigate that now.
…Swish!
The Night Hound’s blade clashed with Ephebo’s hammer once again.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The shockwaves shattered the ceiling, walls, and floor, causing metal beams hidden in the
walls to bend like paperclips and water to gush from ruptured pipes.
Dolores was taken aback when she saw the powerful aura emanating from Ephebo.
A Graduator. With this level of ability, he was definitely a High-Tier Graduator.
Was Ephebo really such a formidable presence?
…But even more astonishing was the red aura emanating from the Night Hound’s blade.
…Grrrr!
Vikir, from Beelzebub, emitted a Gooey honey-like aura that was almost solid.
Handling it was similar to wielding a gigantic greatsword.
Splat! Splish! Clash! Clang!
Vikir’s red aura vigorously tore apart the black aura released by Ephebo.
It was a spectacle reminiscent of iron and limestone colliding.
Baskerville’s Seventh Form.
Seven fangs, including upper incisors, premolars, molars, and lower wisdom, canine, and
molars, fell toward the black form of Ephebo.
…Crunch! Squish! Thud – crack!
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
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*****
These were the fangs of a hunting dog that can pierce flesh, cut, tear, and even crunch
through bones.
This ruthless combat style is optimized for one purpose only: inflicting fatal harm and
making the enemy suffer.
It’s a legendary combat style found only in the practical martial arts manual called
Baskerville’s ten styles so it doesn’t look like a commonly known martial art.
Perhaps even the high-ranking members of the Baskerville family would not recognize
Vikir’s martial art as Baskerville-style.
Dolores became increasingly puzzled as she looked at Vikir.
“You… have become even stronger since I last saw you?”
“It’s because I’ve been regularly raiding the sub-bases of Quovadis.”
“What, what do you mean!? How can you say that so casually…? No, more importantly,
why!?”
“Why? Do you still have questions after seeing that?”
Vikir pointed at Ephebo in front of him.
[Rumble… Groan…]
Ephebo’s entire body twisted, dripping with black energy, and he was staggering, but he
didn’t fall.
If he were an ordinary person, or even a high-tierGraduator, such injuries would have been
fatal.
…Phew! …Splatter!
Ephebo, who was oozing thick, tar-like blood from his mutilated body, made Dolores ask in
utter confusion.
“Why on earth is something like that in our family?”
“If you want to know family matters, ask your own family.”
“But you know all about it! That’s why you’ve been raiding the sub-bases all this time,
right…!?”
However, Dolores’ questions remained unanswered as the situation grew more urgent.
Skkk…
Ephebo began to do something unpleasant.
The black energy emanating from his entire body transformed into chains and started
wrapping around Vikir.
“Annoying…”
Vikir sensed that Ephebo’s intention was to buy time.
Zap!
The chains that bound Vikir were lifted to their fullest extent, emitting asphalt-like auras.
Vikir was planning to make his final move with this.
However…
Whoomp!
Ephebo swung his massive hammer a few times and then threw it.
The massive hammer, bending like a paperclip due to the chains wrapped around Vikir, was
flying towards him.
Because of the chains wrapped around his entire body, Vikir had no choice but to take this
heavy blow head-on.
But…
“My light of life, my flame of existence, my sin, my soul. Break these vile restraints!”
A divine incantation from Dolores lifted the chains that entwined Vikir’s entire body.
Fwaat!
A buff and healing spell.
With the demonic debuff removed from Vikir’s body, he regained the agile movements of the
Night Hound.
Tch! Pop!
Vikir, after stepping on the flying hammer, leaped once more.
Using the rebound as a foothold, he swung the Beelzebub horizontally.
A red crescent moon rose horizontally.
…Phewk!
Ephebo lost his head by a mere hair’s width.
Vikir pierced the seven fangs into Ephebo’s forehead and used the remaining six teeth to
sever the flesh, tendons, and bones of his neck.
Thud!
Ephebo’s body collapsed to the blood-soaked ground. The hammer came to a stop embedded
in the wall.
Even though water was gushing out of broken pipes, it would have appeared as if time had
frozen.
Thwack!
Vikir dropped Ephebo’s severed head, which was stuck at the end of Baalzepub, onto the
ground.
“With the neck completely severed, there’s nothing even a demon can do.”
There was a chance that Ephebo could somehow regenerate through some extraordinary
means, so Vikir put Ephebo’s head far away from his body and stomped on it with his foot.
In the past, there had been cases like Seth that had escaped with only the head remaining.
Finally, with a trembling voice, Dolores said, “I don’t know. What on earth is happening? I
thought the only conflict within the family was between the Old Faction and New faction…
But what’s really been going on behind it all? Do you know?”
In response, Vikir shook his head.
“I don’t know. All I know is that the head of the Indulgentia family is, in fact, a demon, and
not just any demon but one of the supreme demon kings.”
At these words, Dolores’ eyes widened in disbelief.”
She stammered, “A-are you absolutely sure about that? Can you state it definitively?”
Vikir alternated between pointing at Ephebo’s body and head. Even at this moment, Ephebo’s
body, which was still oozing black blood, was still wriggling, and it even seemed to be
twitching for regeneration.
Dolores finally acknowledged what the Night Hound had been saying.
Zap!
The sacred white light emanating from her body completely destroyed Ephebo’s regenerative
structure.
Eventually, Ephebo slumped completely, missing his last chance for regeneration.
Vikir looked at this and thought, ‘…More useful than I thought?’
The regenerative abilities beyond common knowledge that demons possessed were always a
headache for Vikir. However, with Dolores by his side, things might change a bit.
Meanwhile, with a worried expression, Dolores asked Vikir again, “If a demon was hiding in
the background of the Old Faction, what about the New Faction? Isn’t there a problem
there?”
“Have I ever attacked any of the New Faction’s sub-bases until now?”
“…No. As far as I know, not a single one.”
“Then, there’s your answer.”
Vikir neatly summarized Dolores’ confusion.
Dolores could only watch Vikir’s back as he walked ahead.
Finally, Vikir looked down at Ephebo’s severed head rolling on the ground. The black leather
case looked like a hood attached to the gas mask from the inside, exuding a faint magical
aura.
He had thought about this before, but it might be another kind of artifact, just like Beelzebub.
Vikir and Dolores were curious about the face hidden within the black case.
Dolores was particularly interested because she had witnessed Ephebo using Quovadis’s
mace technique.
“Who is this… Is he really from Quovadis?”
“Once I unmask him, we’ll find out.”
Vikir extended his hand.
And then, the black case covering Ephebo’s face slid off smoothly.
Both Vikir and Dolores were shocked.
“!?”
The bare face of Ephebo revealed from the black case was undoubtedly someone both of
them knew.
*****
Chapter 159 A Familiar Face (2)
Tss tss tss tss tss tss…
Ephebo’s face rapidly melted and dissolved into the water. The murky, transformed water
was accompanied by a foul smell of decaying flesh, and greasy oil floated on its surface.
Vikir and Dolores had already seen his face before it dissolved. It was a familiar face, to both
of them.
“…Mozgus?”
Vikir mumbled to himself as he held the black case floating in the water.
The bald head with no eyebrows, a sharp beak-like nose, thick pursed lips… The face they
just saw undoubtedly belonged to Mozgus.
Mozgus, the holy knight of Quovadis, carried a thick bible and led the inquisition against
heretics. Why was someone like him, who was destined to fight against demons as the
forefront when the era of destruction arrived, found here as a corpse?
Vikir furrowed his brow in puzzlement. ‘Mozgus before regression was undoubtedly a
human, even a hero who had disappeared along with a thousand demons before the era of
destruction. How…’
Dolores solved Vikir’s mystery, saying, “This isn’t Mozgus.”
While examining the remaining body of Ephebo, Dolores shook her head.
“Mozgus had a twin brother. He was a member of the Old Testament, unlike us.”
Mozgus’s twin brother, Mozpus. He was also a powerful holy knight with a formidable
physique and a strong sacred power. However, he had secluded himself deep in the Old
Testament’s monastery during his long period of training, and no one had seen him.
…As far as the world knew, that it.
“He didn’t disappear due to his training but had his body taken over by a demon.”
Vikir could only swallow a sigh of frustration. Dolores, on the other hand, frowned with
concern.
“There are quite a few people currently in training at Quovadis… It can’t be, right?”
“I can’t guarantee anything.”
The issue didn’t end with just this. Vikir recalled that a powerful figure from Baskerville had
been involved in training, just like himself.
Given the current situation of Baskerville and Quovadis, those powerful figures who were
either undergoing training or had disappeared for a long time posed a significant threat.
Vikir looked down at Ephebo’s decapitated body.
The Ninth of the Ten Corpses. This man was undoubtedly capable of turning others into
demons and controlling them, even taking their faces.
Perhaps, even Quilt’s face was also stolen.
‘Thinking about it, they did say Quilt’s face resembled a retired actor, right?’
Vikir couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable about that actor’s retirement, the reasons behind it,
and the lack of recent updates about him.
He also knew of a strong figure who had recently entered seclusion for training.
“When are you enrolling in the academy? Let’s go together! I might enter the academy a year
or two earlier. If we both start as first-years, it’ll be interesting…”
A connection that had lasted since they were eight years old. Originally, they would’ve
enrolled in the academy together. Camus Morg, her name surfaced in Vikir’s thoughts.
He somehow felt uneasy about her, a sensation creeping over him.
She had been conducting constant searches since Vikir’s disappearance from the Black and
Red Mountain disaster. Wanting to find him, and thinking about his daily.
However, one day, Camus suddenly left the light side and joined the dark side of the Morg
Clan. Then, she disappeared from the public eye, citing that she’s going for a seclusion.
Even Vikir could not fully fathom the reasons behind it.
‘…I’ll worry about it later. For now, I need to focus on the hunt.’
Vikir snapped his thoughts back to the task at hand.
Swish.
Vikir picked up the black leather case that Ephebo had used to cover his face and put it in his
pocket. This artifact exuded a type of magic, similar to Beelzebub, but it seemed to have a
lower magical potency, about 25% or so compared to Beelzebub’s.
However, things will be different if I remove Hebe, Pedo, and Gerento’s leather from them.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
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*****
While Vikir was immersed in his thoughts, Dolores hesitated and called out to him, “Uh, Mr.
Night Hound.”
When Vikir turned his head, he saw Dolores wearing a mixed expression of sadness,
confusion, doubt, and trust.
“If this is what’s happening within the Quovadis Clan… What should I believe now?”
Quovadis had always been an unwavering symbol of good to her.
Even though the Old and New Faction were in conflict, Dolores had always believed that, in
the end, they could unite under the banner of the Rune Religion. But now, witnessing the
tragedy within her own family, she started to think that the fundamental issue was something
else.
Behind the Old Testament, there were demons. Witnessing this fact with her own eyes and
ears, Dolores felt that everything she had believed in was being denied. Quovadis was no
longer the symbol of absolute goodness.
It was easily tainted and manipulated, no different from any other faith. Furthermore, the
direct appearance of demons among humans was a significant event. What did this signify?
‘War! The Great War with demons!’
The intelligent Dolores could sense that she was in the midst of a massive storm. Moreover,
she knew that the mysterious man before her, the Night Hound, was engaged in a long and
arduous battle.
“I’m not sure anymore. I’m not sure what to take as true. There may be more than meets the
eye.
Dolores bowed her head and spoke with a confused and uncertain tone. Any man would find
her to be captivating because of her stunning beauty. But Vikir remained silent as is his wont,
offering no words of comfort.
“What you choose to believe is your decision.”
Vikir continued to advance, stoic and unwavering, as he always had.
Dolores followed Vikir, who had moved from the Fourth Quarter to the Third Quarter, while
still appearing uncertain.
In the hallway leading to the Third Quarter, as they delved deeper into the building, the
presence of magic became more pronounced. The foul and oppressive smell suggested that
something flesh-like was decaying in large quantities in the deeper parts of the building.
It felt as if they were descending into a narrow, humid cave filled with damp soil. “There is
something inside.”
The Night Hound advanced, relying on his keen sense of smell. Meanwhile, Dolores had
come to a complete understanding that the Night Hound had not attacked the Quovadis
branches recklessly but had acted according to some rational reason and principles of his
own. Therefore, she began to actively assist him in the aftermath.
“First, I will inform the upper echelons of my family about this. It should be trustworthy
coming from the New faction and, more specifically, certain organizations I’m involved
with.”
“…Do as you wish.”
With Vikir’s permission, Dolores began to write a letter. She placed it on a pigeon’s leg, and
the recipient was Chief Martin Luther, the New faction’s leader. Given the current state of the
Old Testament, even her father, Herbert L Quovadis, couldn’t be trusted.
“Koo-koo, please hurry. I’m sorry for giving you work at night.”
The white pigeon, hearing the holy maiden’s heartfelt request, flapped its wings and flew into
the sky with great strength.
Swish!
A few white feathers fluttered into the darkness as the pigeon, carrying Dolores’s letter, shot
up into the sky.
However…
Phew-phew!
Shortly after, a sudden shot pierced the pigeon’s body, and it tumbled down into the abyss.
Dolores’s letter was disintegrated by an aura and turned into ashes.
Vikir narrowed his eyes beneath the mask, taking notice of the incredibly high speed of the
shots.
Sssss…
The overpowering stench of rotting flesh and decaying earth began to blend into the air.
Gradually, two dense shadows swirled in the middle of the corridor, connecting Quarters 2
and 3.
“Who’s there?” Dolores’s face tensed with alertness.
Before long, two men emerged in front of Vikir and Dolores. Tall, with lean builds, and
dressed in tailored suits, they both held the same black cylinders in their mouths.
“Pedo & Hebe.”
Pedo and Hebe, just like Ephebo, served as Quilt’s Shadows.
Both of them emitted an extraordinary aura, making them look like high-ranking undead
creatures. However, what was even more concerning than their overwhelming aura and
presence was something else.
“Do you think these undead creatures were people we knew in their past lives?” Dolores
asked, her voice filled with deep concern.
It was unlikely that these people, who had been corrupted directly by demons, were ordinary
beings in their previous lives. There was a high possibility that they were individuals known
in the public eye in some way.
Vikir looked at Pedo and Hebe and beyond, then responded with an indifferent tone, “I hope
not.”
*****
Chapter 160: A Familiar Face (Part 3)
Pedo and Hebe revealed themselves, each wielding unique and grotesque weapons: Pedo had
two massive war hammers, while Hebe held a giant pair of garden shears. Their weaponry
went beyond eccentricity and crossed into the realm of monstrosity.
Bubbles of viscous liquid filled the air, emitting a mana-laden foam. Covered in the common
mist, they resembled advanced gladiators. With two high-rankers like them, even Vikir, a
top-ranker, couldn’t afford to be complacent.
Pew!
Vikir shot forward, unleashing a crimson shot from Beelzebub. It extended horizontally,
creating a loud explosion as it ripped through the corridor wall, but the sound was trapped
within the maze of the corridor.
Pedo leaped upward, while Hebe crouched down, narrowly evading Vikir’s shot.
Simultaneously…
Kwack!
Two war hammers and a massive pair of scissors hurtled towards Vikir.
The cylindrical pillars crumbled like smashed pumpkins.
Puff, puff, puff, boom!
Vikir pierced the debris from the destroyed cylindrical pillars with his many fangs,
annihilating Pedo and Hebe who were hiding behind. Both at the same time…
“Thud!”
Vikir spat and lifted his mask slightly. His spittle, mixed with blood, flew through the air and
landed on Pedo’s hand.
Sizzle…
Flesh burned and tendons melted upon contact. However, Pedo remained unfazed, continuing
his assault with the blade.
Vikir retreated as his cape was cut, muttering, “Poison doesn’t work, after all.” He had tried
combining Madam Eight-Legs’ venom with his saliva, but the effect was minimal. After all,
as undead beings, they were less susceptible to poison.
‘Then how about this?’ Vikir retreated further, dissolving into a cloud of dusty smoke, which
enshrouded the area.
Pedo and Hebe, in an attempt to find Vikir, looked around in confusion.
Swish…
Vikir, who had vanished, reappeared above Pedo and Hebe’s heads, near the ceiling.
Thunk! Thump, thump!
His silent, piercing fangs gnashed against Pedo and Hebe’s bodies once again.
Vikir’s ‘Silent Heel’ skill, which he learned from Mushussu, allowed him to move silently,
making his Silent Heel skill useful in situations like this.
Thunk! Thunk, thunk! Crunch, squish!
Vikir’s sword blade began slowly gnawing at Pedo and Hebe, bit by bit.
“If they were living opponents, I’d have punched holes in their throats or hearts by now,”
Vikir thought with a bit of frustration. Because they were undead, Vikir’s stabbing attacks
were less effective.
Whoosh…
When Vikir extended his aura…
[Grurk!]
Pedo suddenly leaped forward, paying no mind to Vikir’s blade that pierced his belly skin.
Puff!
Pedo disregarded Vikir’s blade, driving forward relentlessly. Vikir tried to retract his sword,
but it was wedged tightly between Pedo’s spinal bones, making it difficult to remove.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
Using his spinal bones, Pedo anchored Vikir’s blade in place, and Vikir found himself unable
to recover it.
“…?”
Vikir hadn’t realized what Pedo intended until he saw Hebe approaching with giant shears.
!
Hebe sliced through Pedo’s body with the giant garden shears, and at the same time, he cut
through Vikir’s body, who was in front of him! Vikir’s body twisted and struggled as he tried
to get out of the two scissor blades that cut into him.
At the same time, Pedo’s body in front of them was nearly torn in half. The tough spine
prevented it from splitting in two completely, but the scissors had cut deep into his side,
grabbing onto his inner bones.
This allowed Vikir to narrowly escape from being divided in half, but his shoulders and
forearms on both sides were already torn to shreds, skin and flesh ripped apart, and blood
flowing freely.
At this moment, Vikir struck back.
Pak!
Vikir kicked Pedo’s belly, forcing the blade of the scissors inside Pedo’s body to slide
deeper.
Hebe tried again with his giant shears and applied more force.
Thwack! Thump!
Vikir kicked Pedo again, pushing Pedo’s body further into Hebe’s side. This time, the shears’
blades spread wider apart, and the force squeezing Vikir also weakened.
Pak! Pak! Pak! Pak! Pak! Pak! Pak!
Vikir continued to kick Pedo’s body into Hebe, and Pedo struggled, but he couldn’t stop
himself from being pushed back.
Eventually…
Thud!
The spinal bones that had been wearing down the scissor blades finally snapped, and Pedo’s
body was cut into two pieces.
At the same time, the scissor blades crossed paths.
Crack!
They collided in a deafening noise. However, Vikir, who had just been kicking Pedo,
managed to dodge Hebe’s blades at the last moment.
“Die.”
Vikir raised his hand, and a sharp, trident-like attack was launched.
Fwoosh!
In an instant, it created a large hole in Hebe’s neck and sent him flying backward several
meters.
Thud!
Both Vikir and Hebe collapsed, their bodies battered and bloody. Vikir’s shoulders, arms, and
legs were in tatters, and his clothes were shredded.
Just at that moment, a cry reached them. It was the voice of Saint Dolores.
“Night Hunter, are you okay?”
Her long, drawn-out spell, the sealing of divine language through her prolonged prayer, had
finally been realized. Dolores chanted, “My light of life, my flame of existence, my sins, my
soul… Let these wicked ones feel the weight of their sins…!”
Sacred light from the runes poured forth, pressing Pedo and Hebe down. The two beings that
straddled Vikir’s body, trying to put themselves back together and mend their injuries,
suddenly found themselves immobilized by the immense sacred power Dolores radiated.
Finally, Vikir could stand up from the ground. His torn cloak revealed white flesh and red
wounds underneath. Dolores, alarmed by the sight, hurried over and knelt beside him.
“Night Hunter, are you all right?”
It was evident that Vikir had sustained severe injuries that would take longer than a few
minutes to heal.
Dolores, her face streaked with tears and a runny nose, knelt by Vikir’s side. “I’m so sorry,
I’m so sorry! I took too long with my spell…”
But it was too late. Vikir’s skin and flesh were torn apart, his bones and entrails exposed,
revealing that he was on the verge of…
“Hurry, we need to use healing magic! After the emergency treatment, we’ll get you to the
infirmary… Huh?”
With Tears in her eyes, Dolores suddenly froze in shock. A strange sensation overcame her.
Tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss…
Vikir’s wounds were rapidly healing, which was why her surprise was evident.
‘Good thing the Fog Lizard’s skill came in handy,’ Vikir thought. In a short time, his body
had healed completely, leaving only his well-toned muscles and fair skin visible beneath his
torn cloak.
While adjusting his attire, Vikir gave Dolores a brief piece of advice. “Conserve your divine
power. We haven’t even encountered the real demon yet.”
“Yes, yes…” Dolores responded with a somewhat dazed expression. Healing wounds so
rapidly was something she had never seen before, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was
due to Vikir’s divine power.
And then, Dolores found herself thinking, “Night Hunter is a man.”
She had suspected he was a man based on his physique and voice. However, due to the way
he had always concealed himself under a cloak and mask, she had never thought much about
his gender. But with the glimpse of his white, well-built body revealed between the tattered
cloak, she was now certain.
He was male, and he seemed quite young. In that instant, Dolores’ face turned slightly red.
This was the first time she had seen a man’s naked body from such a close distance.
“Be virtuous,” she reminded herself. She had seen patients undressed, but different
circumstances required different attitudes. As a healer, she never made a habit of
distinguishing someone’s gender.
But Dolores couldn’t help her curiosity. What did the face hidden behind the mask look like?
Was it terrifying or surprisingly ordinary? She couldn’t help but wonder.
“Are you curious?” Vikir asked.
Dolores, startled, turned her head. “Uh, yes?”
“Curious about the face behind the mask,” Vikir clarified.
Dolores stammered in response, “Well, I, uh…”
Vikir didn’t seem to care about her hesitation and turned away. He took a few steps toward
where Pedo and Hebe were still struggling.
Thunk!
Vikir quickly severed the necks of the two undead beings, ending their struggle.
“Come take a look, weren’t you asking about the mask?” Vikir said in a stoic way.
Dolores, now disappointed, couldn’t hide her curiosity. “Yes… I mean, yes.”
Vikir nodded. “I’m curious about it too.”
Dolores looked at Vikir in surprise. “You are?”
“Absolutely. We’ll get a glimpse soon.” With that, Vikir’s hand moved towards the black
sack like cloth on their faces.
Then he revealed the faces of Pedo and Hebe. “One of them is from the ‘Donquixote Clan,”
He said, pointing to the tattoo on Hebe’s body, which symbolized Donquixote.
Dolores remembered Vikir’s friend Tudor, who was also from the Donquixote Clan. Since
Hebe had the same tattoo, it piqued Vikir’s interest.
“From the Donquixote Clan, I need to inquire if any young man has recently gone missing.
As for the other one, I don’t recognize the origin.”
Dolores asked in disbelief, “H-How?”
Vikir didn’t respond. He simply took off the mask of the other Undead ‘Pedo’, revealing the
face beneath. The face rapidly melted into nothingness upon exposure to the air. Despite the
swift disappearance, Vikir had already memorized the features.
“…Baskerville.” Vikir remembered.
“Baskerville?” Dolores was shocked.
He used to be an agile and friendly Baskerville family member who trained young hounds
and occasionally played a significant role in Seth Baskerville’s service.
According to rumors, he, too, was let go as part of the large-scale layoffs. Vikir, on the other
hand, had not expected to see him as an undead.
Dolores was disappointed that her curiosity about Vikir’s face wasn’t satisfied, but her
attention shifted as a powerful surge of mana emanated from the central lobby of the first
facility.
Someone stood there, casting strong magical energy. An undead mage who was visibly
emanating magical power.
Geronto.
She was the most difficult of Quilt’s four shadows and was now revealed to be a formidable
foe.
*****
Chapter 161: A Familiar Face (4)
Geronto.
A female magician with a slender frame.
Her long, red hair hung below, and a weird black cloth was covering her face.
Dolores spoke with a stern expression.
“She’s a relatively recent addition to Quilty. Judging by her physique, she looks quite
young…”
“…”
Rather than a verbal response, Vikir swallowed a nervous cough.
Eventually, Geronto stepped forward.
A storm of common mana began to swirl around her.
…Crackle! Sizzle!
Elaborate magic circles appeared throughout the air, and flames and Ice spikes immediately
burst forth.
Metal spikes that shot up from the ground turned red from the flames.
Even a slight touch would result in burns and injuries.
Seeing the immense amount of mana emanating from Geronto, Dolores panicked and
shouted, “If this is magic of this level, she’s at least Class 5… No, Class 6! She must have
been an incredibly talented magician!”
Burning iron spikes flew in all directions.
Vikir wielded his Beelzebub and deflected the flying spikes.
Crackle!
The fiery barrier swirled around, obstructing Vikir’s path.
Whenever Vikir stumbled, iron spikes were popping out everywhere, covering the floor,
walls, and ceiling, a few of them hit him as well.
Sizzle, crackle, pop…
Vikir evaded the flames sticking to his shoulders, back, sides, and feet.
The central lobby of the first chamber had turned into a furnace.
The melting iron cauldron, the red-hot spewing spikes, and the abundance of sparks
resembled rows of teeth.
Crackle! Sizzle! Zzzap! …Crash!
Geronto continued to summon fire and spikes on the other side of the furnace.
The flames continued to swell in size.
Amidst the flying sharp iron spikes, each one was highly threatening.
The air was so thick with smoke that breathing would scorch your lungs, and the bright
flames and the hazy glow limited visibility.
Dolores, who had been pushed to the front of the main gate, shouted to Vikir, who was right
in front of her, “Night Hound! We can’t even get close like this!”
“…”
But Vikir didn’t respond.
He simply watched the landscape of red and black through the goggles attached to his mask
and the magician with red hair standing beyond.
Finally, the Night Hound growled, as if muttering to himself.
“…I need to see her face.”
“What?”
“I need to see her face.”
Ignoring Dolores’s puzzled expression, Vikir took a step forward.
The floor had already transformed into a furnace due to the sharp iron spikes and the blazing
flames.
Vikir rushed towards it without hesitation.
Zzzap! Crackle!
With each step Vikir took on the molten ground, the spikes shot up.
They pierced through Vikir’s insteps, heels, and even up to his knees.
spikes that popped out from the walls and ceiling were scorched by the flames and gradually
melted into boiling molten iron.
…Drip! …Drip! …Drip! Sizzle!
Iron spikes protruding from the ceiling began to melt and fall like a light drizzle throughout
the corridor.
Below, new spikes continued to emerge, and the flames grew more intense, while the ceiling
rained fire and molten iron.
“…”
Vikir pressed forward through the rain of molten iron and spikes, undaunted.
Sizzle and pop!
Dozens of spikes flew in, sticking themselves all over his body, but Vikir paid them no mind.
“Her face!”
A hotter rage burned beneath Vikir’s throat than the bubbling molten iron.
“I need to see her face!”
The smell of burning flesh and congealing blood.
Dolores watched in horror as Vikir single-handedly endured this arduous path.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
Why is he going to such lengths? Could he be familiar with that female magician? If they are,
what kind of relationship do they have? Unanswered questions dried up my mouth and throat,
making me thirst for answers even more.
“Ugh…”
Dolores squinted her eyes and followed behind Vikir.
Sacred light wasn’t particularly effective against elements other than darkness. Nevertheless,
Dolores dashed into the blazing fire, molten metal, and the furnace of spikes that Vikir had
carved out.
Even though her body was stinging, burning, and suffering in pain, she persevered without
giving in. She thought, “Night Hound has embarked on an even more perilous path! I
shouldn’t be whining about just following!”
As she followed closely behind Vikir, her body also began to be marked with burns and
injuries.
Around that time, Vikir reached the end of the furnace. Meanwhile, Geronto either ran out of
mana or staggered back and forth and couldn’t summon more fire or spikes. Vikir stood
before her.
Iron spikes penetrated his body from head to toe. But Vikir didn’t care and reached out
without paying any attention to it.
“Take off your mask.”
Vikir removed the black handle covering Geronto’s face, and it happened in an instant.
[Zzzzzz!]
Geronto let out a blood-curdling scream, and her body thrashed wildly.
Her mana surged like a frenzy, and Vikir realized what it was and quickly withdrew his hand.
“W-what!?” Dolores was too shocked to react in time.
Kwakwakwakwak!
Geronto’s surging mana instantly turned into a massive explosion, obliterating everything in
all directions.
…Thud!
Geronto’s charred body, with her neck entirely burned away, collapsed backward.
Flump-
Only one black sackcloth survived the explosion and the flames, lying on the ground.
“…She had a bomb implanted in her head,” Dolores remarked, furrowing her brow.
Meanwhile,
“…”
Vikir remained silent.
He was fixated on Geronto’s lifeless body sprawled on the ground.
The woman’s body was concealed by a dark red robe. Vikir moved after a moment of silence.
Dolores’s eyes widened slightly.
“Night Hound? What are you doing now…?”
It was understandable that she was flustered. Vikir was stripping Geronto’s clothes off right
there.
Pfft- Thud!
The sturdy robe was torn to shreds by Vikir’s strong grip.
Finally, the woman with pale skin was exposed. But it wasn’t particularly obscene; her head
was entirely missing because it had been torn off.
Furthermore, her body bore dirty traces of iron and leather and other things sewn and patched
in various places.
Given that her flesh and bones were not in perfect condition, it was presumed that when she
was resurrected as an undead, her body parts weren’t entirely gathered.
This means that even before she became an undead, she couldn’t leave an intact corpse and
died in an extremely painful and gruesome manner.
“…”
Vikir stared at Geronto’s lifeless body for a while.
And then…
“No, it’s not.”
Vikir commented briefly. Dolores, with a puzzled expression, asked, “Do you know her?”
“…I thought I did, but it seems I was mistaken.”
Vikir recalled Camus Morg in his mind. In fact, he had suspected that Geronto might be her.
They appeared similar in age, height, and body type, and even their special magic skills were
alike. Even the color and length of their hair were the same as he last saw it. Furthermore,
Morg Camus had left the light side for no reason, joined the infamous dark magic side, and
had recently entered closed training.
But upon closer inspection, Vikir realized Geronto was Camus. Geronto was slightly shorter
than Morg Camus, and there were subtle differences in their secondary sexual characteristics.
The age factor was also different.
Most importantly, Vikir had seen Camus’ body before when he was eight years old. It
happened during their joint training when Camus set fire to his clothes. Vikir distinctly
remembered, “At that time, she had a mole above the chest, below the clavicle.” However,
there was no trace of such a mark on Geronto’s body.
Red hair, powerful magic, and the ability to control iron and fire all seemed similar to
Camus’s abilities, but there were many differences.
‘The issue is why was she an Undead,’ Vikir thought.
Gerento(Camus’ lookalike), as well as the young men from the Baskerville, Donquixote, and
Quovadis, had all turned into undead. How far did the roots of this demon extend?
Vikir realized he needed to intensify his demon-hunting efforts.
At that moment, Dolores expressed her concern, “I’ve heard that the tombs of many
prominent martial artists have been robbed recently.”
Hearing that, Vikir stroked his chin with his hand. “Robbery, you say.”
Typically, tomb robbery occurred when one aimed to loot treasures, including gold and
silver, along with the corpse. But this situation was somewhat different. The corpse itself was
the target of grave robbing.
“…Wretched demons.”
Vikir collected the fourth black cloth, which had covered Geronto’s face. Once again, this
black handle contained a potent magic, comparable to the Beelzebub.
“I wonder what kind of artifact this is? I should investigate it later.”
Vikir tucked all four black sack cloths into his bag.
With this, he had overcome all the vexing checkpoints: Ephebo, Hebe, Pedo, and now
Geronto.
Only the Quilt, the head of the Indulgentia family, remained.
Vikir thought back on the path that had led him to this point. He had accumulated demerits in
the academy and spent the entire Golden Holiday performing volunteer work while living a
pretend-soldier life. Now, his final goal for this assassination mission was within reach.
Just as Vikir was about to take his last step to reach his destination…
Clap, clap, clap, clap—
From beyond the pitch-black darkness, applause resounded.
“…”
Vikir and Dolores turned their heads toward the source, and there stood a familiar face, Quilt
Rune Indulgentia. He was sitting on the railing, looking down at them with a sinister grin.
*****
Chapter 162: Sins and Punishment (1)
And thus I clothe my naked villainy with old odd ends stolen forth from holy writ and seem a
saint when most I play the devil.
-William Shakespeare, “Richard III”
Quilt
The head of the Indulgentia family, a sub-family of the Quodavis clan, and a devoted
follower of the Rune faith. He was also an honorary mayor entangled with the royal family
and a compassionate orphanage director who cared for wayward children. However, all of
this was just a facade, and behind it lay the face of a vile demon.
Quilt looked down at Geronto’s lifeless body with a wicked smile. “Heh heh heh! You’ve
made quite a mess.”
His gaze shifted to the four black sack-like cloth protruding from Vikir’s cloak – Ephebo,
Hebe, Pedo, and Geronto all wore on their face.
Quilt grimaced with a hint of annoyance. “Have all four of them been defeated? I borrowed
them from that woman, and now they’re in such a state… She’s going to raise hell again.”
His actions were theatrical, as if he were a performer on stage berating the audience in a
humorous fashion.
On the other hand, Dolores, who had observed Quilt’s consistently relaxed demeanor,
stepped forward with anger. “You! How can you commit such vile acts while wearing the
mask of a saint? Bringing demons into an orphanage!? What’s your hidden agenda?”
“Heh heh heh! Hidden agenda, you say? Didn’t you see yourself what you discovered
beneath the grounds of Quovadis’ orphanage, convent, and hospital?”
For a moment, Dolores was puzzled and tilted her head.
Then, realization dawned upon her. Quilt was referring to the bones, the remains of humans,
particularly infants.
“Babies! You feed on humans! And babies, at that! You really are a demon!”
“Eating a few babies, or ‘infant cannibalism,’ as you call it. I mean, it’s not a surefire way to
label someone as a demon. Many people do it, not just me. Even those esteemed people do.”
“What did you say!?”
Dolores was flabbergasted, her mouth wide open.
But Quilt remained nonchalant. “There are esteemed people who take an interest in
ingredients they’ve never tasted before as they ascend to higher realm. After I introduced a
few to them, it naturally became a trend.”
“Nonsense!”
“Ah heh heh. Nonsense, you say. Not really. Even in Quovadis, there are plenty.”
Dolores seemed to be genuinely shocked, stumbling and almost losing her balance.
Quilt continued to chuckle as he spoke, “I understand you may be shocked. But, my dear
Saintess, humans often wear multiple faces. Just because someone appears to be a faithful
servant on the surface doesn’t mean they don’t have darker sides. Have you never had an
embarrassing face, something you’d deny in public? A moment when your hypocrisy boiled
beneath a mask of sanctity?”
Dolores’s pupils trembled.
She had, indeed, acted against her faith in a shameful way recently.
Vikir, a male student from the same academy, from the same club, and the same organization.
Dolores’ was older than him. Recently, due to her drinking during a board game, she
accidentally offended Vikir by urinating on his pants. To avoid the situation, she even
resorted to some underhanded actions, putting the blame on him, even if it wasn’t intentional.
But that’s not all. If you look closely, there’s the “urination” incident, and on a larger scale,
there are many more incidents.
She’s the Holy Lady who is supposed to love and embrace all humans, the heir of the family
who is expected to uphold family tradition, the leader of the New Testament faction opposing
the Old Testament faction, the model student who must be a source of pride for the school,
the student council president who must be a role model for juniors, the newspaper club chief
who must always be fair and just, and more.
Ultimately, she, too, has many faces, along with the accompanying burdens, pressures,
feelings of inferiority, hatred, laziness, and various other desires.
That’s why Dolores stood there speechless for a moment, and then…
“Uh, thank you… I guess?” she hesitantly replied, filled with various emotions.
The hand that touched her shoulder was rough and sturdy, but it felt warm. Night Houndstood
right next to Dolores, offering comforting words. “It’s okay to make mistakes; that’s what
makes us human.”
At that moment, Dolores felt as if the overwhelming pressure that had been bearing down on
her was suddenly lifted. Not just the pressure of facing a demon but all the burdens she had
felt while living up to her responsibilities as the saintess, student council president, family
heir, leader of the New Testament faction, and more.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
The comforting words from Night Hound were like a small salvation. She found herself
instantly at ease. But this was more than just the relief of facing a demon.
Dolores had felt an abundance of various types of pressure and expectations because of her
roles as the saintess, student council president, family heir, and more. Night hound’s words
seemed to alleviate all of them.
But Dolores quickly snapped out of it. “Aha! I can’t afford to let go like this!”
Dolores slapped her own cheek. Night Hound was at her side, and his rough, yet warm hand
offered her comfort.
But Dolores couldn’t afford to be relieved now. She was the saintess, the heir to the Quovadis
Clan, the leader of the New Testament faction, a model student at school, the student council
president, the newspaper club chief, and more.
She needed to be a pillar of support, not rely on someone else.
However, no matter how firmly she resolved not to get distracted, her gaze kept involuntarily
drifting toward the Night Hound’s broad shoulders.
Meanwhile, Quilt squinted his eyes and assessed Vikir.
“Who are you exactly? Did you attack my subordinates recently? Ephebo said that he
recently suffered a setback, and it must be your doing.”
“Are you going to keep asking when you already know?”
Vikir responded with a low growl, and a smile tugged at the corners of Quilt’s lips as he
looked at him.
Quilt, the master of the Indulgentia family, could probably cook Vikir alive with his mere
words. But he wasn’t planning on it.
“Fine. I’ve been getting tired of this middle-aged actor’s face anyway. I wanted a younger
and prettier one. You know, I have a hobby of collecting really pretty faces. Just like yours,”
Quilt said, using his unique abilities related to “faces” and “masks” to see beneath Vikir’s
plague doctor mask.
Meanwhile, Dolores, hearing his words, turned to look at Vikir.
‘…Oh my! Night Hound seems to be handsome. Quite unexpectedly.’
She couldn’t see Vikir’s face under the mask, but based on Quilt’s words, she could only
guess.
‘Is even the demon attracted to his beauty, enough to make the demon’s mouth water?’
However, while Dolores was intrigued, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for being
interested in Quilt’s words.
On the other hand, Quilt continued to ramble on.
“Hohoho! I’ve always admired Saint Dolores’ skin too, and it’s worked out really well. More
than that, I’ve got an even prettier face in my hands. This is such good luck. Today, two new
faces will be added to my collection!”
But he couldn’t finish his sentence.
“Die.”
Vikir’s voice echoed briefly.
Szzzk.
Quilt’s head was split into two, with his black blood spraying out. It was clear that he hadn’t
fully revealed his power until now.
Quilt fell to the ground, and Vikir lightly landed behind him.
This wasn’t a pathetic ending for Quilt. It was more accurate to say that Vikir hadn’t fully
revealed his strength so far. However, Dolores didn’t know that.
And then…
“Of course, this isn’t the end,” Vikir warned Dolores. “Get ready. From now on, the real deal
is coming.”
To demonstrate his point, Quilt stood up from the ground. His split head miraculously
merged back together.
“What… is this?”
Quilt’s two eyeballs looked incredibly red and swollen, as if they weren’t normal eyes but
rather the eyes of a demonic hunter.
Only a demon could have a sense of smell so acute, like a demon hunter. This smell had been
well hidden within his mask and black fur until now.
Vikir was finally starting to reveal his true strength.
Szzzzzzzzz.
Dark and red energy began to swirl and envelop Vikir’s entire body.
As the hidden power and aura burst forth, the countless monster sould that Night Hound
reaped in numerous battlefields showed their teeth.
The scent of countless drops of blood naturally began to fill the air. Monsters blood, and
among them, the most recent one was from one of the Ten supreme Demon (Ranked 10th),
Andromalius!
The death mark left by Andromalius was deeply etched into Vikir’s soul and body, enhancing
his spirit and making him even more robust.
Upon smelling this scent, Quilt’s smile vanished completely.
“Could it be that because of you… Andromalius lost contact…” he wondered.
Vikir didn’t respond, but he increased the aura he’d been hiding, which in turn made the scent
of Andromalius’s blood grow even stronger.
Realizing that Andromalius had died, Quilt couldn’t help but burst into an anguished lament.
“Oh! To open the gate to the Demon Realm, ten Demon Lords must gather their magic! And
now, this idiot Andromalius has gone, increasing the burden on the remaining nine! You
fool!”
As his voice grew more distorted, Quilt’s appearance began to change.
“This is unforgivable! Our great plan… it’s been delayed by another ten years!”
His voice was filled with sorrow and cries of despair. It was so horrifying that just listening to
it could make one feel nauseated.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Finally, Quilt began to throw off the tatters of his human disguise and started to reveal his
true form.
“Hrk!?”
Dolores stepped back in shock.
But Vikir, standing firm, watched all of this unfold with a calm demeanor.
‘He’s finally showing himself.’
Ranked 9th among the [Ten Corpses], one of the supreme Demon Lords, Dantalian!
Vikir had been preparing for this moment for a long time.
*****
Chapter 163 Sins and Punishment (Part 2)
Title: ‘The Ninth Corpse,’ Dantalian
Danger Level: S+
Size: Unknown
Discovery Location: Unknown
Also known as ‘The Ninth Corpse.’
One of the ten calamities, known as the enemy of humanity, the Unsolvable and Unkillable.
“It shall be filled with sores due to the disease.”
Book of Ten Commandments 10:1 –
Thud, thud, thud!
The human disguise shattered, revealing the true form of a demon. Vikir watched it all with a
calm demeanor.
“…It has finally emerged.”
Dantalian, the Ninth Corpse, one of the ten supreme demons. An evil being with thirty-six
different heads and faces, capable of changing into various identities, from old men to young
women, from beggars to nobles.
Each of the thirty-six heads had a violet tongue that could extend far beyond their mouths,
sharper than any blade. Although their appearances varied, the grotesque bodies of this
demon were unforgettable, invoking a sense of eeriness.
‘A thousand-faced’ Dantalian. The one who had killed most of Vikir’s comrades before his
regression.
Dantalian possessed the ability to steal the faces of those he killed, be their mothers, fathers,
siblings, friends, mentors, or lovers. Anyone who hesitated or wavered in the face of
Dantalian’s ever-changing identities would inevitably meet their end at his razor-sharp
tongues.
Vikir, having lost many comrades to Dantalian before, couldn’t help but evaluate him as
such.
“An demon to eliminate from the outset, regardless of his strength.”
Given that he was destined to inflict the most harm on the united human forces in the future,
it would be wise to dispose of him early on.
At that moment,
Tsst, tsst, tsst…
A foul odor, reminiscent of decaying flesh, began to permeate the air, accompanied by a
noxious energy.
Vikir quickly stepped back. Dantalian was not only known for having multiple faces but also
for spreading diseases wherever he went.
He could both unleash and control plagues, all while maintaining a gentle facade to pass as a
fake priest.
But this time, there was a stroke of luck. Dolores stood behind Vikir.
“Paah!”
Dolores emitted a divine light that blocked Dantalian’s plague miasma. She questioned him
with a stern expression.
“What’s the reason for this?”
[Dedede- Reason? What reason?]
Dantalian retorted, causing veins to bulge on Dolores’s neck.
“Why would you come to the human realm and do this? Why engage in such acts at an
orphanage of all places…!”
In response, all thirty-six faces looking down at Dolores simultaneously broke into mocking
smiles.
[It’s a kind of ‘farm’ management, you see.]
“What?”
When Dolores asked, Dantalian replied with a taunting tone.
[See this?]
He held up a golden necklace in his hand, which some of the orphanage children wore around
their necks. Dolores frowned but remained silent.
[This is a ‘breeding stock,’ so to speak.]
“…!”
Dantalian’s words further hardened Dolores’s expression.
[We demons capture and consume humans, just as you humans hunt and eat animals. So, I
thought, why not change the perspective? Rather than the hassle of hunting humans every
time, let’s raise them like livestock. Like dogs or pigs.]
“What… what the hell are you saying?”
[Inside here, they breed, increase the population, manage the quality of their flesh, and when
they reach a certain age, they get devoured. How efficient is that? It’s a win-win strategy,
isn’t it?]
“Madness! How can that be a win-win situation!?”
[It is a win-win situation. These orphans in this orphanage were originally destined to be
stillborn, die shortly after birth, or end up as beggars on the streets. Thanks to me, they could
live relatively safe and comfortable lives until their late teens. Of course, we have to eat them
before they get too old, or their meat becomes tough and tasteless. Hohoho!]
“Ugh…! How dare you do such a thing behind the name of piety! You will face divine
retribution, you demon!”
Dolores shouted in anger.
However, when Dantalian heard the word ‘divine retribution,’ he opened his eyes wide as if
he didn’t understand it.
[Hohoho – Divine retribution? But I haven’t done anything wrong, have I? According to your
faith’s standards.]
It was quite ironic that a demon who had captured and devoured innocent children claimed to
be innocent. Even a passing dog would laugh at that.
But Dantalian genuinely seemed to think so because:
[I have these certificates.]
Eventually, Dantalian took out a bunch of paper fragments from a space pocket. They looked
like banknotes but were slightly smaller in size.
Dantalian scattered the white pieces of paper with red lettering and a stamp on them into the
air.
The text on them resembled a priest’s decree.
“…This is.”
Dolores gazed at the white pieces of paper suspended in the air, her expression blank.
[Certificate of Absolution]
“All sins of this faithful believer are forgiven.”
– Issued and endorsed by the Old Testament faction; counterfeit punishable by law –
㊞
[Certificate of Pardon ]
“All punishments of this faithful believer are forgiven.”
– Issued and endorsed by the Old Testament faction; counterfeit punishable by law –
㊞
The ‘Certificate of Absolution’ had been confirmed by the Rune Religion to absolve the sins
and punishments of repentant individuals in a different dimension.
Dantalian had countless such certificates of absolution and pardon.
[Hohoho! I paid a substantial offerings to get these certificates. So, my sins have been
forgiven according to your church’s standards.]
In the world’s order, when you sin, you should face punishment. But even if you’ve sinned,
you can be exempt from punishment, or even the sin itself can be forgiven if you repent.
This was a law recognized and accepted by the Church of Quovadis, which resulted in the
ironic situation of a demon, the origin of sin, being declared innocent.
Shocked and lost for words, Dolores fell silent. She couldn’t even condemn them as heresy or
heretical beliefs.
Because it was nothing less than a malignant tumor that had grown inside her family, causing
a horrible rupture.
[Hohoho! And this is the man who issued me these certificates. Your father, in other words~]
“….!?”
[Hohoho! He stacked up treasures like a mountain of gold, so he was very particular about
affixing stamps, isn’t he?]
Dolores’s father, Herbert, was known as a staunch adherent of the Old Testament, a symbol
of the Old Testament faction, and a stickler for the strict principles of classical laws.
But he was also an ambitious man who gathered enormous wealth by issuing certificates of
absolution in exchange for large sums of money, attempting to control the family’s finances.
As a result, even the unforgivable sins of the demon were absolved due to this unscrupulous
act.
“….”
Dolores, realizing her father’s true identity, staggered in shock once again..
[Hohoho! And that’s why I’m innocent! I’ve received these certificates as… Huh?]
But Dantalian could no longer taunt Dolores.
Vikir had his sword pointed at the third mouth of Dantalian, holding the elongated tongue
that had dared to wriggle.
“When facing a demon…”
Night Hound, Vikir, pulled out the long tongue from Dantalian’s third mouth and gripped it
in his hand.
“Do not play with your tongues.”
Simultaneously, Vikir yanked the tongue forcefully, causing the third face of Dantalian to be
severed by his blade.
[Scream!]
Dantalian screamed once more. The other faces bearing open mouths seemed to gasp in
unison. The violet-colored tongues were as sharp as blades.
However, Vikir’s speed with Beelzebub was much faster.
…Splurt! Sputter!
The blade, honed with malice and tempered by hatred, traced a bloody arc. Dantalian, in
sheer panic, cried out when he saw his faces being severed one after another.
“Th-this brat! How dare you point a sword at me!?”
Soon, Dantalian’s first presented face looked at Vikir.
It was the gentle, warm smile of a grandmother.
You know, you can’t spit on a smiling face, right?
However…
…Schwack!
Vikir relentlessly slashed the grandmother’s face with his sword, and the same fate befell the
grandfather’s face that followed.
“Horo, you brat!”
Dantalian gnashed his teeth and pulled out a new face.
This time, it was the face of an attractive young actress, whose popularity was currently
soaring.
But…
…Schwack!
Vikir swung his blade without mercy once more.
Regardless of which face was presented next, the result was always the same.
…Schwack! …Schwack! …Schwack! …Schwack! …Schwack! …Schwack!
Innocent children, seductive women, feeble old men… all of their faces became side dishes to
the blade.
By this point, Dantalian appeared rather bewildered. His faces were crafted from the actual
skin of real people, and they could faithfully reproduce their expressions and voices.
However, the guy in front of him remained as emotionless as ever, without a hint of
hesitation or sympathy.
“You heartless fiend! Are you saying I’m more human than you?”
“….”
Vikir ignored Dantalian’s words and swung his blade once more.
…Splut!
Foul, greenish blood sprayed, and Dantalian staggered backward, looking disoriented.
Though new faces could regenerate, Vikir’s speed in destroying them was much faster than
their regeneration.
‘Even before my reincarnation, I found this annoying.’
Dantalian’s imitated faces and voices were just that—imitations.
In his previous life, Vikir had realized this fact after losing many comrades.
So at this moment, he had no time for guilt or remorse.
“Let’s just cut his throat.”
Vikir, cleaning the repugnant, dark-green blood from his blade, walked forward.
At that moment, Dantalian’s remaining faces all displayed sly smiles.
*****

HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
[Hohoho! You’re not interested in others, are you? Then how about this?]
Gradually, Dantalian’s face began to change.
They transformed into the faces of boys and girls under the age of thirteen.
These were the faces of the orphanage’s children.
Vikir, with a dry voice, replied, “I’ve slashed the faces of children before. Do you think that
will affect me now?”
[Hohoho! Of course, it won’t affect you.]
“….!”
That statement momentarily made Vikir pause.
Yes.
Right now, Dantalian was not affecting Vikir; instead, he was shaking Dolores’s mental state
from behind.
Saint Dolores had been volunteering and taking care of many children in this place for
several years.
Among them were children who had formed deep bonds with each other and those who had
become so sick that they could no longer be adopted into better homes. But not a single one
of those children had left this place. The reason was simple; they were all right here.
“Ugh, big sis! I missed you!”
“Sister! Save me, please! It hurts too much!”
“Big sis! Big sis! Big sis! Can you get me out of here?”
“It hurts, sis! Ugh… Sob… I didn’t mean to do anything wrong!”
Numerous faces blossomed above Dantalian’s body like a vase of flowers. They were the
children from the orphanage whom Dolores had been meeting every weekend, from the time
she entered the academy as a freshman to when she became the student council president in
her third year.
Vikir, hearing their simultaneous cries of pain and agony, briefly shut his mouth. He was
confident that he wouldn’t fall for such emotional manipulation, but Dolores? The saintess of
Quovadis, the beacon of hope for all the unfortunate neighbors?
Vikir felt a slight unease and turned his body. And then, he saw it.
“….”
The slits of Vikir’s eyes, hidden beneath his mask, widened slightly. A dry voice then scraped
against his throat.
“….Indeed. A hero is always different.”
At the same time…
Kaboom!
An intense, blinding white flash erupted, searing Vikir’s eyes.
“Wha…?”
Dantalian staggered back, his whole body feeling as if it were on fire. A burning black smoke
billowed from his exposed body.
Then, amidst the blinding white light, Dolores’s voice resounded, appearing calm on the
surface but concealing a seething rage underneath.
“…You’ve touched what you shouldn’t have.”
That was the tone of her voice. Her words conveyed the idea that something was about to
change drastically.
And in that moment…
Shiver.
Vikir felt a slight shiver. Memories of the time before his reincarnation, the battlefield where
everything had crumbled and fallen into despair, returned to him. Amid overwhelming
despair that felt irreversible, a glimmer of hope had appeared, just like a last-minute miracle,
in the form of Dolores, the “Steel Maiden.”
Even if it was for a very brief moment, he was reminded of that feeling.
*****
Chapter 164: Sin and Punishment (3)
[Ah, no! Sister! I’m scared!]
[Brother! Save me!]
[Someone, please help!]
The faces of crying children.
Dantalian seemed to have captured the faces of the children trying to escape from the
orphanage and devoured them.
Vikir recalled the strange regulations/rules he had seen at the orphanage not long ago. They
were probably designed to scare the children to prevent them from running away and to
ensure that no one would help those who escaped.
And with this newfound knowledge, Dolores was able to conjure a much more intense Holy
Fire than before.
…Ssshhhh!
A pure white flame began to engulf Dantalian’s entire body.
[Aaargh!?]
With the sound of his flesh burning, Dantalian convulsed in agony, but Dolores couldn’t see
it.
“Evil… the epitome of evil… this wicked creature!”
She didn’t have many curses in her vocabulary.
Tears were streaming from her eyes, clouding her vision.
Shee couldn’t meet the agonizing gazes of the children in the flames, and she lowered his
head.
Her innate holiness was at an extraordinary level, but she hadn’t yet accumulated practical
experience in effectively manifesting it, which was what had happened.
…But there was a skilled hand to complement that.
Sheek!
Vikir. The night hound, once again, bared his sharp fangs and bit into a chunk of Dantalian’s
flesh.
“This is a chance.”
Dolores, as she created the Holy Fire, watched as Dantalian writhed in excruciating pain.
If she could slowly carve Dantalian’s body with her blade right now, victory was within
reach.
…Fwooosh!
An aura, almost solid, oozed from Vikir’s blade.
Representing the Peak graduator, this viscous aura was now almost solid.
[Grrgh!? How dare a human…!]
Dantalian, consumed by the white flames, rose and drew out his purple tounges.
Chaang! Chang! Thud!
Vikir’s sword clashed fiercely with Dantalian’s purple tongues.
In the blink of an eye, the high-speed exchange of blows continued.
But the experienced Vikir, despite Dantalian’s demonic speed, managed to keep up the
pressure.
Ttwaang!
Vikir’s blade struck Dantalian’s tounge, and he felt his wrist vibrate.
“…Certainly stronger than Andromalius.”
Andromalius, who had possessed the body of Seth Baskerville, was also one of the ten
supreme demons. However, the difference lay in the fact that back then, the Knights of
Baskerville had fought alongside him, and Hugo Le Baskerville had been the one to finish the
battle. But now, Vikir was locked in a 1:1 battle with Dantalian, eventhough he had a
powerful ally.
“Night Hound! Step back for a moment!”
Dolores channeled white flames into her hands, creating a barrier.
Amid the lightning-fast exchange of blows, without blinking an eye or taking a breath, Vikir,
swinging his sword, could finally step back and recoup behind the barrier.
Zzzzz…
The white-hot radiance that consumed Dantalian threw him far away.
However, Dantalian showed no sign of desperation.
[Hehehe! The first ones to corner me like this. Interesting.]
“Interesting? Let’s see if you can say that before you bite the dust.”
[Die? Are you trying to kill me now? Hoho, your determination surely overflows.]
Dantalian extended the face of a mustached gentleman but soon spoke calmly.
[Yes, indeed. All humans believe they are special. They think they’re the chosen ones.
Heroes who can kill demons and bring peace to this world. Protagonists, and all that.]
His face then transformed into that of a seductive woman, followed by that of an innocent
child, a stubborn man, and a malicious old man in rapid succession.
A Thousand-Faced Demon. It was indeed one of Dantalian’s most powerful abilities, That
directly struck the heart of the attacker.
[But no, that’s not it. In reality, everyone in the world is special. They are all heroes, lovers,
fools, and villains. They all have their own unique stories.]
Simultaneously, Dantalian exhaled a thick black mist from his mouth.
The mist filled the entire space in an instant, much like the smoke spewed by a fire.
Fluttering—
Three unpleasant objects fell in front of Vikir and Dolores.
They were similar to the black cloth sacks that Epebo, Hebe, Peto, and Geronto had worn on
their faces before.
The sack on the far left writhed.
…Rustle!
The thin cloth sack’s outer surface displayed pulsating blue veins.
After a while…
…Rustle! …Rustle! …Rustle!
The three black coth sacks began to move as if they had gone mad.
The eerie convulsions resembled a death row inmate writhing in his final moments when the
executioner carried out his sentence.
Dantalian’s voice, filled with satisfaction as if he had already peered inside the sacks.
[…Now, shall we hear your stories?]
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
Amidst the thick mist, Dolores searched frantically for Dantalian, who was hidden behind it.
“What is this mist? It doesn’t even disappear with my divine power.”
“…Be careful.”
Vikir had already experienced Dantalian in his past life.
Therefore, he had some predictions about his attack patterns.
After a while, one of the three black sacks floating in mid-air suddenly opened wide.
Vikir spoke with a dry voice.
“That’s the ‘sack of Shame’ that Dantalian, the thousand faced demon, carries around.”
“…?”
As Dolores tilted her head in confusion, the sack of Shame seemed to change its course
towards her and something was pulled out from inside.
Dolores’s expression turned to horror when she saw what came out of the sack.
“Ah! What is that!?”
What emerged from the sack was none other than Dolores herself.
[…]
Fake Dolores looked at the real Dolores with an expressionless face.
Vikir calmly explained, “The sack of Shame makes the target show an embarrassed
expression. It’s a psychological attack that brings their most shameful memories to life.”
In other words, what was in front of her was the exact recreation of the most embarrassing
memory of Dolores in her life.
This would not only shatter her camaraderie with her comrades in an instant, but it would
also disrupt her composure, making it a truly terrifying technique.
…However?
Ssshh—
Fake Dolores, who had walked out of the sack of Shame, didn’t do anything.
…She just wet her pants.
“…?”
“…?”
Vikir and Dolores both fell silent as if by mutual agreement.
“D-Die!”
Dolores immediately used the white divine flames, blowing away the sack of Shame.
[Argh!? What is this? How did you overcome the sack of shame so easily?!]
From behind the mist, Dantalian’s bewildered cries were heard.
It seemed that overcoming this illusion caused damage to the demon on the other side.
Afterward, the next sack began to move as if it were alive and opened its mouth towards
Dolores.
Vikir’s expression stiffened.
“The next is the ‘sack of Terror.’ It makes the target show a terrified face. In other words, it
pulls out the person the victim fears the most.”
After a while, the thing that came out of the sack of terror stood in front of Dolores.
It was the face of a middle-aged man with a stern expression.
Vikir immediately recognized the face.
‘Humbert L Quovadis!’
The leader of the Old Testament faction and Dolores’ father.
As Humbert’s face appeared, Dolores’ expression froze.
“Ah, Father…”
She was so startled that she couldn’t even speak properly.
[Dolores, why are you wandering outside at this hour? Have you finished all the assignments
I gave you?!]
Bishop Humbert looked down at Dolores with an authoritarian attitude.
The whip on his hands was making Dolores quite nervous and fidgety.
“That… that…”
Dolores couldn’t meet Humbert’s gaze, and cold sweat began to flow from her forehead.
At that moment…
Thwack—
There was a strike that beheaded Bishop Humbert.
It was Vikir. He had intervened in Dolores’s memory.
“…Illusions are just illusions. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
When Vikir’s voice reached her, Dolores finally exhaled the breath she had been holding.
Cold sweat was dripping from her cheeks to her chin.
“I’m… I’m sorry. My father and I don’t get along well. I forgot it was just an illusion for a
moment.”
“…I understand.”
Vikir simply nodded without any further questions.
After a while, only one sack remained.
“…That one is the ‘Sack of Love.'”
Dolores nodded when she heard Vikir’s explanation.
By now, she had a good idea of what would come out. Probably the face of the person she
loved.
Dolores, on the other hand, was unable to predict which face would appear. She didn’t have
any memories of loving someone with certainty.
Of course, she followed the Rune Religion’s law to “love thy neighbor,” but Dantalian’s
definition of “love” was likely different from that.
Afterward…
Tsst, tsst, tsst, tsst…
What came out of the sack of Love began to take shape.
It was the form of a common-looking man.
He was dressed in a black cloak, wearing a reversed hat, and had a strange mask resembling a
crane’s beak covering his face.
It was Night Hound.
“…?”
“…”
For a moment, an awkward silence hung between Vikir and Dolores.
“Is this…?”
“Oh, it’s not me! This sack is strange! It’s… showing weird people… Ha-hahaha~!”
When Vikir slowly turned his head, Dolores hastily waved her hands.
At that moment, from beyond the mist, Dantalian’s mocking voice could be heard.
[Hoho! My sack is honest, even more so than the target! It can capture even the tiniest
emotions hidden deep within! It can even extract emotions you didn’t know you had!]
In response to his statement, Dolores’s face turned bright red.
“Wait! I’m innocent! I swear! Well, maybe not swear, but I really haven’t…!”
“…”
Vikir didn’t say anything this time either. He simply drew his sword and prepared to confront
the fake Night Hound.
“Clang—Bark! Thud!”
Vikir, backed by saintess’ holy fire, swiftly thrust his sword into the Night Hound’s body,
and the illusion was reduced to mistt.
“Luckily, it seems that it can’t reproduce the power of the original body.”
Perhaps it was because Dantalian had not accumulated enough magical power yet.
Back before the Regression, when they had met in the era of destruction, Dantalian could
reproduce not only the faces but also the powers of the individuals from the target’s
memories.
Vikir was relieved that he had discovered Dantalian sooner rather than later.
Meanwhile…
“…”
Saint Dolores was fumbling for words, unable to say anything.
Vikir was contemplating what to say to her when…
…Rumble!
The three sacks started moving again.
[Hoho-ho-ho. To be honest, I didn’t expect much from the saintess. What experiences can an
amateur like her possibly have?]
“…”
[But I expect more from you,]
Dantalian’s words were directly aimed at Vikir.
A demonic technique that could draw out and manifest a target’s shameful memories, fears,
and loved ones.
Now, it was unfolding before Vikir’s eyes.
Soon after…
Tsst, tsst, tsst, tsst…
The first sack, the “sack of Shame,” began to explore Vikir’s memories and started
manifesting them in the real world.
After a while…
Something appeared from the mist.
“…EEk!?”
It surprised Dolores.
[…Huh?]
Even Dantalian, who had created the illusion, was speechless.
The sky was painted blood-red. Mountains of corpses. A river of blood.
In the center of the desolated world, a lone pillar stood.
Dolores’s gaze naturally moved to the top of that pillar.
And there, imprinted deeply in her retinas, was “something.”
A severed neck.
One severed neck, prominently displayed.
*****
Chapter 165: Sins and Punishment (4)
The sky was a deep crimson. Flocks of crows circled overhead, their wings flapping in a
continuous dance. A tall, elevated structure with a gruesome spectacle.
Dolores stood there, her mouth partially agape, taking in the horrifying scene before her.
‘Where on earth is this?’ she wondered.
She couldn’t fathom any battlefield or conflict zone in this world being as harsh and desolate
as this. Moreover, the hanging figure on the structure…
“Who is that?”
Dolores squinted her eyes and tried to focus. Perhaps this figure had a close connection to the
“Night Hound.”
Examining the face of the person whose throat had been slit, might provide some insight into
the identity of Night Hound. Dolores thought it might aid in her quest to uncover his true
identity.
But…
Caw-caw!
A lone crow landed and began pecking at the severed throat. Caw-caw! Caw-caw! Caw-caw!
Following this, numerous crows descended, picking at the throat. Dolores suppressed her
disgust at the gruesome sight between the black feathers.
The state of the throat was so deteriorated that there was no way to discern the person’s facial
features. It had already rotted extensively, and with the crows feasting on it, only the skeletal
remains were left.
“Is this Night Hound’s shameful memory?”
Dolores turned her head slightly to look at the Night Hound standing beside her.
“…”
He remained motionless, his expression hidden behind his mask. It was impossible to tell
whether he was experiencing embarrassment or some other emotion. However…
“It brings back old memories,” he mumbled.
The brief comment he made was still as dry as ever, containing only a residue of deep regret.
Name: …kir… … …kerville
Crime: …………
The mostly ripped piece of wood was an unsightly shambles. Dolores was ultimately unable
to elicit any information about the Night Hound’s true identity from his memories. She was
even more intrigued by the path he had taken in life and all the burdens he had carried.
“…What kind of life had this person lived? How heavy is the burden he’s been carrying all
this time?”
Just like when she used to treat plague patients together with him, the Night Hound’s apathy
stirred up a sense of tenderness and affection in Dolores, akin to maternal love, beyond mere
sympathy for a troubled neighbor and the usual benevolence of a saintess.
On the other hand, Vikir saw the old scene after a long time.
His hometown.
The world he had abandoned.
He missed it a little, but he had no desire to return.
That world had labeled him a traitor, and executed him with the label of a hound, and yet he
had continued to serve his self-serving master.
“Revenge has already been taken, so there’s nothing left but to move forward.”
He raised his sword with a nonchalant attitude and cut the scene in front of him into two.
The beheaded body was ripped apart as the head flew away, and the crows that had been
circling it were also chased away.
Black feathers fluttered in the air.
Caw, caw!
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
The crows circled and flew away into the distant sky.
The world shattered and disappeared like a broken tile.
Eventually, from beyond the dark fog, the growling of Dantalian could be heard.
[What are you? Who are you, exactly? And why are the landscapes of my hometown in your
memories?]
The man’s voice carried a hint of laughter, mixed with confusion and surprise.
Vikir chose not to respond to Dantalian’s inquiry.
[Very well, no need to answer. I can see for myself.]
Dantalian opened another pouch. The pouch appeared to come to life, and he promptly
retrieved something from it – “Terror,” an entity designed to dig up Vikir’s memories that
terrified him the most.
Tsss-tsss-tsss-tsss-tsss…
Soon, an elderly man emerged from the nocturnal mist. Vikir immediately recognized his
identity.
‘Hugo! Hugo Le Baskerville!’
The elderly man had snow-white hair and a face covered in wrinkles, numerous burn marks,
and scars.
“Who is that?” Dolores failed to recognize Hugo.
Of course, she knew Hugo in this reality.
Being of a high-ranking status within the Quovadis Family, she had exchanged pleasantries
with the head of the Baskerville Clan, Hugo, on various imperial occasions.
However, the last image of Hugo in Vikir’s memories was vastly different from his current
appearance. The prolonged years of war had significantly altered his countenance. Not only
were there wrinkles and black patches on his face, but he had become more hideous and
grotesque over the few years since the start of the war. Furthermore, the numerous knife
marks and scorching scars etched onto his face gave the elderly Hugo a much more sinister
appearance.
Normally, if a master lost their dignity, a hound wouldn’t dare to disobey. Hence, Vikir was
able to partially let go of his instinctive fear of Hugo. Moreover, Dantalian hadn’t yet
accumulated enough power to flawlessly reproduce the abilities of the figures from Vikir’s
memories.
Kwooosh!
Vikir pushed the aura stored within Beelzebub to its limits and lunged forward, causing seven
fangs to devour Hugo. This time, it was the hound who devoured its master.
“It won’t be much longer.”
Vikir pledged to himself, promising to someday devour Hugo in reality.
Dolores, who had watched the illusion shatter, asked Vikir cautiously, “Excuse me… if it’s
not too impolite, may I inquire who that elderly man was from earlier?”
“My father.”
“Ah…”
Dolores fell silent.
She also saw her father during the Sack of terror’s illusion. And perhaps the Night Hound had
seen himself in her, just as she had seen herself in him.
Did the Night Hound see himself in her too? Dolores silently hoped so. If she could provide
him with even a small measure of comfort, just as he had comforted her, it would be enough.
Meanwhile, Dantalian shouted with a voice mixed with fear and rage, [Gahhh! How… How
can you so easily overcome shame and fear like this? You seem so inhuman!]
[But even if you are a heartless creature, this time won’t be so simple!]
Hooo-hooo-hooo!
The final sack began to stir.
‘Love.’ The most primal element that moves humans. An emotion essential for human
interaction and existence. It was now time for the sack to reveal ‘the thing Vikir loves the
most.’
Dolores felt a sense of tension, somewhat inexplicable, creeping over her. Engaging in
combat against a demon of archdemon level while experiencing such emotions seemed
utterly foolish and pitiful. However…
“…I’m curious!”
Dolores couldn’t help herself, and even as she chided herself for being distracted, she
remained alert. Regardless of what would come out, she intended to observe it closely.
She didn’t know if her curiosity was due to a need to prepare for the battle with the demon or
if it was driven by her fascination with Night Hound’s past. But she remained prepared for
whatever was to come.
Eventually…
Tsss-tsss-tsss-tsss-tsss…
The last sack left behind by Dantalian opened wide.
[Hoho! Creatures like you are surprisingly vulnerable in the face of love, even though you
may appear as unyielding as stone. No matter how unfeeling you are, when faced with the
one you love, you can’t help but lose your composure! It’s not for nothing that romance sells
well in any era! Love transcends all things… What!?]
However, Dantalian’s boisterous voice was cut short.
“…!”
Even Dolores was experiencing a similar feeling right now. She was on the same wavelength
as Dantalian, if only for this moment.
Flutter…
In front of her eyes, the sack of love revealed the face that Night Hound loved.
[TL/N: Sorry for the slow updates, I had a few tests so I wasn’t able to focus on translation,
from tomorrow we’ll be back to 3-4 chaps per day releases!]
*****
Chapter 166
Title: Sins and Punishment (5)
The sack of love opened wide, and what emerged from it was a face—the face of the person
Vikir loved.
“…!”
The moment she saw that face, Dolores could only wear a bewildered expression.
“There’s no one?”
That’s right; the sack was empty. It contained nothing, absolutely nothing. This left Dantalian
even more confused.
[It can’t be! I’ve heard that humans are creatures that live through love! Not only humans but
all animals have emotions like love! But you…!]
However, Dantalian’s words did not reach a conclusion. A vicious blow struck his chest,
delivered by Vikir’s sword.
[Ghuh!?]
Dantalian coughed up black blood as he staggered back.
36 faces distorted in disbelief at the unbelievable situation.
Was it possible that the magic hadn’t worked? Is it possible that no faces appeared in the sack
because the spell failed?
Unfortunately, Dantalian’s hope was in vain. The magic had functioned correctly, and with it
came a significant depletion of mana, accompanied by a massive backlash of damage to
Dantalian’s body.
Furthermore, Dantalian had become vulnerable when he cast the spell, which allowed Vikir
to continuously thrust beelzebub into him, each strike potentially lethal.
…Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
An aura so thick it could be solid washed over him.
It pierced flesh like a savage beast’s fangs, shattered bones, and tore through organs. It
erupted like molten lava, devouring souls along the way.
Even though it was a demon supreme’s body, it was a helpless situation.
[G-gh…!]
Dantalian, in a moment, was reduced to a bloodied heap of tanned leather. Flesh, skin,
organs, and body parts rained down on the ground, covering it like asphalt.
[It can’t be! It’s not possible! It’s said that every person loves at some point in their life!
There’s no such thing as a human who hasn’t loved!]
“I’m a living example right here.”
Vikir replied briefly and dryly.
Raised from a young age to suppress all emotions, Vikir had grown up to be a cold,
unyielding killing machine. A soulless hound of death, he obeyed commands with
unwavering loyalty.
Yet, for some reason, even though his upbringing had caused him to be cold and unfeeling,
he hadn’t twisted or bent.
He didn’t know it back then, but that unbending nature might have been a form of deviation.
In a time when everything was disintegrating into nothingness, could he have afforded the
luxury of love? Was there someone to teach him about love?
“…?”
Watching Vikir, Dolores could vaguely understand his circumstances.
She could sense the scent of life and the resonance of his soul as he unleashed his power.
Priests pray for others, heal them, and bestow blessings in a way that deeply connects them to
others’ souls. It sometimes influences their emotions and even transforms them.
Dolores remembered a phrase she once heard from the Night Hound.
‘Theology is the study of understanding people.’
She didn’t fully grasp the true meaning of that phrase back then, but now she felt like she did.
At this moment, Dolores found herself empathizing deeply with Night Hound’s emotions and
circumstances more than anyone else.
‘What kind of life did he live? How heavy a burden has he carried on his own? How long has
he persevered through solitude and loneliness?’
Just a short while ago, she had regarded Night Hound as a criminal and even come up with a
villain name for him in her school’s newspaper club.
…But that wasn’t the case. He was a warrior, fighting the world’s evil more fiercely than
anyone else.
A prophet persecuted by the world, misunderstood by everyone, and a man who hadn’t
experienced love in his entire life. He wasn’t a criminal; he was a seer.
How far had he gone ahead? How far was he looking ahead?
How lonely, how difficult, how painful, how wounded had he been throughout his life?
Suddenly, a warm moistness welled up in the corner of her eyes.
Dolores desired to walk alongside him rather than simply follow him. She wished to lend her
strength to him. She wished to be by his side, holding his scarred soul close and offering
comfort.
She wanted to embrace his injured feet after the journey through the thorn-filled path.
She wanted to hold his hand, injured by the sword.
She wanted to let him know he wasn’t alone, no matter how far he went.
…However, Dolores also knew the truth.
Night Hound would never rely on anyone. He wouldn’t expect or depend on anyone.
He would stand firm, alone, forever advancing.
Even if it meant traveling on a treacherous path filled with thorns, blood, and flesh.
Although Dolores had come to understand this truth due to her partial empathy with his soul,
it only made her even more disheartened. Knowing that the person you want to rely on will
never rely on you is a painful and melancholic feeling.
…But there was another presence besides Dolores who felt the same way.
[AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!]
Dantalian. He was truly in pain and agony.
The mighty demon, who had been sitting arrogantly, mocking humans, was now howling in
pain while his 36 faces contorted.
And Vikir, still holding Dantalian’s hair, continued to slash his blade haphazardly.
A hunting dog never lets go once it bites. That’s what he had been taught.
Even though Vikir’s body was being torn apart by the mana waves emitted by Dantalian, he
stubbornly tried to engage in close combat.
“Guh!”
Dantalian was torn into shreds. His skin, flesh, and organs rained down on the ground,
covering it like asphalt.
[…Jeez, what kind of life has this wretched human led?]
Dantalian, whose hand had become like tattered rags, reached into Vikir’s memories.
Vikir’s memories were filled with frigid and razor-sharp fragments. Picking any one of them
was a perilous endeavor. Even for a demon like Dantalian, touching them was dangerous
enough to cut his hands.
It felt like rummaging through a bag filled with sharp shards and pieces of glass.
[Look at this! This is the face of someone who once cared for you! Can you still wound me
like this!?]
It was Seth Le Baskerville.
Seth had trained within his family to the extent that even the family members forgot his face
after years of secluded training. So, even when Dolores looked at the face, she could only tilt
her head in confusion.
‘Who is this?’
Seth had pale skin, dark eyebrows, and a handsome face that was oddly cool, yet somewhat
unsettling due to his lack of a healthy complexion.
‘Could this person be related to the Night Hound?’
But before Dolores could examine Seth’s face closely and commit it to memory, she didn’t
have time.
“Thank you. You’ve ignited my enthusiasm.”
Vikir’s response was much faster.
Seeing the look on Seth’s face made him even more enraged than he actually was.
So what was supposed to be one slash became two.
Puff! Puff-puff-puff! Pooh-pooh-pooh-pooh!
Seth’s face explodes from the frenzied barrage of blows.
At the same time, the entirety of Dantalian’s body began to be shredded into smaller and
smaller pieces.
[Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!]
Dantalian can only scream in misery and try to parry the blows using his razor sharp purple
tongues.
Then.
[……aahhhh! Don’t bully me!]
One of Dantalian’s many faces changed.
Beautiful blonde hair. Fair skin. Slightly sunken eyes that looked somewhat sad.
An old, crude gold necklace around her neck with the word ‘Nymphet’ written on it.
Suddenly.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
“……!”
Vikir froze.
Dantalian didn’t know what made Vikir pause, but he figured this was his chance.
[F*ck you!]
Countless faces shouted, purple tongues rolled out at once.
Dantalian sticked out his blade-like tongues, indeed a demon of discourse.
But.
Kurrrrr!
Dantalian’s attack failed again.
Dolores, enraged by the look on Nymphet’s face, intervened with another burst of white
flames.
“You shall DIE.”
Dolores scorched the tip of Dantalian’s tongue and immediately leapt to the Night Hound’s
side.
In a moment of crisis, she became even more poised and calm.
“?”
Vikir scratched his head, not sure why Dolores had suddenly become so brave.
Then, Dolores looked back at Vikir and said with a determined air.
“If it gets difficult, you can lean on me. I’ll be waiting.”
“??”
“I’ll always wait for you.”
“????”
Vikir tilted his head in confusion once more.
…Pow!
The white light that Dolores had just emitted instantly enveloped Vikir’s entire body.
“……!”
“……!”
At that moment, both Vikir and Dolores felt it.
Soul resonance.
It’s the kind of feeling you get when you’re walking down the same path together.
It was the kind of connection that can only happen between ‘soul resonance’.
And the moment it happened.
…A flash!
The light emanating from Dolores’s body exploded tenfold.
The Awakened Saintess’s buff.
And the one that had the greatest impact on a saintess’ soul.
The only being that caused the Saintess to awaken.
A person who possesses a soul of the same magnitude.
Night Hound.
Whether consciously or unconsciously, she liked the feeling of being connected with him on
a spiritual level.
“…Aah?!”
Dolores felt all the strength drain from her body.
Divine power exerted with all her might to the point where she could not even stand.
The enormous buff of power that had been unleashed was instantly absorbed into Vikir’s
body.
Dolores, who was naturally gifted, had an enormous amount of divine power.
Now that it had exploded tenfold, the resulting buff was no ordinary buff.
The moment Dolores’ buff entered his body.
Boom!
Vikir felt as if the wall above his head had been breached with a single blow.
The high, solid wall that had appeared impenetrable for so long had been demolished, and he
could now see beyond it.
The pinnacle of strength…
The Realm of Swordmaster.
*****
Chapter 167 Sins and Punishment (6)
Dolores felt something snap in her mind as Dantalian transformed into Nymphet, a tether of
reason that had always been held in a calm disposition.
It burst at that precise moment, leaving her in an unexpected, almost irrational emotional
state. These intense emotions unintentionally unleashed a power she was unaware of.
And that raw emotion and power was directed at one person: Vikir, the Night Hound.
Empowered by the buff conveyed through Dolores’s soul, Vikir, who was originally a Peak
Graduator, crossed over to an entire new realm.
Swordmaster.
The amplified solid aura coursing through his body now emanated from Beelzebub, spewing
forth with every swing.
Swish, swish, swish, swish!
From gas to liquid, and from liquid to solid, the aura, heated to its limit, solidified, like how
blood solidifies when it’s heated.
Then it began to spin in a circle, following the laws of mana.
Kiiiiing-
The solidified aura surrounding the blade spun at breakneck speed, nearly invisible to the
naked eye, its movements resembling a swarm of chainsaws spinning in unison.
Whirrrrrr!
With a light swing, Vikir’s blade effortlessly sliced through rocks and pieces of metal debris,
causing sparks to scatter. And this was only a fraction of his power.
‘…This is incredible,’ Even Vikir, who was usually indifferent to everything, was taken
aback.
Is this how it felt to be a Master? Did Hugo live like this? With this unimaginable power on
his palms?!
Vikir couldn’t help but wonder if he now understood why Hugo had treated lower-ranking
people with such disdain.
Everyone else is an ant before this power.
“Hugo, in my past life rose two more levels in the realm of swordmaster…”
It would soon become evident that there were different tiers within the Swordmaster realm.
Vikir, temporarily elevated to low-tier Swordmaster through Dolores’ blessings, intended to
etch this sensation into his body, as he would have to reach this level without buffs in the
future.
On the other hand,
[Arghhh!]
Dantalian was being torn apart while still alive.
Vikir slashed and cut Dantalian’s body with the high-speed rotating aura blade here and
there.
Though Beelzebub, was primarily used for thrusting, it now excelled in slashing as well. This
change didn’t weaken its piercing power.
‘Despite the significant increase in combat power, this feeling of omnipotence… It’s like I
can do anything.’
Vikir was, for the first time in a while, in an incredibly good mood.
The soul’s resonance felt as if Dolores had tailored and fitted him with a new outfit that fits
perfectly, as if she knew the sizes and positions of his internal organs and veins. It was truly
an exhilarating sensation.
Dolores’ buff warmed Vikir’s entire body, accelerating the flow of mana.
His veins expanded, and blood and mana flowed even faster.
His aura amplified and became solid.
This was the result of the “soul’s resonance”
And Vikir had some knowledge of this phenomenon.
Yes, before his regression, Saintess Dolores only bestowed this buff on a few heroes in the
entirety of the war.
During the time of the impending apocalypse, only a handful of beings were fortunate enough
to receive Dolores’ blessing.
Dolores didn’t discriminate or distinguish among those she healed, but she was extremely
cautious when it came to her buffs.
Only a handful of great heroes with the power to maximize the effects of her buffs could
receive them.
The head of the Baskerville Clan, Hugo Le Vasqueville, and Morg’s leader ‘Camus Morg’,
were among these heroes. But what about now? Vikir was the sole recipient of Dolores’ buff.
It meant that Dolores deeply acknowledged and understood him, though, unfortunately, Vikir
wasn’t aware of this. He merely considered himself lucky.
On the other hand, Dolores felt as if her body and Vikir’s body had completely fused into
one. It was not just a physical amalgamation; it felt as though their souls had merged. Even if
this was a temporary phenomenon, it provided her with great comfort and empathy.
She had often pondered, ‘People in the world confess their sins and share their worries with
me, but to whom do I confess my sins and share my concerns?’
Sometimes, conversing with the lord alone wasn’t sufficient, and she longed to talk to another
human being. But she had never been able to share her inner turmoil with anyone, driven by
her role as school’s president, or Quovadis’ saint, or her role as a daughter, always required
to maintain a poised and elegant appearance.
However, during this occasion, she had cast aside all such concerns and loneliness. She
poured all her emotions into the broad back in front of her, which belonged to the Night
Hound, her “Soul Companion.”
Clang, clang, clunk, crackle!
Vikir pushed Dantalian with an extraordinary force, unlike his usual self. Dantalian, suffering
from burns due to Dolores’ white divine Flame, couldn’t withstand the sudden onslaught of
Vikir’s aura.
Before long, Vikir extended his blade, intending to sever Dantalian’s throat. Numerous faces
clustered around Dantalian’s head, like grapes on a vine.
Just then, Dantalian played his final card. [Brother, save me!]
Nymphet. Her face turned towards Vikir.
Was that all? All the children from the orphanage began to cry out towards Vikir.
[Brother, I wanna live!]
[If this demon dies, we die too!]
[Brother, please! Please don’t kill this demon!]
[This murderer! Does he think we’re expendable!?]
Dantalian’s plan seemed to be working at first. Vikir’s blade slowed down ever so slightly.
And then, seizing the moment, Dantalian gathered all his magic and launched a sneak attack.
Crack!
Dantalian’s tongue gathered in dozens to form a single spear, which struck Vikir’s heart
directly.
“…!”
Vikir couldn’t even scream. He was sent flying and crashed into two stone pillars, buried in
the debris.
“No!”
Dolores exclaimed in astonishment, but it was too late.
Dantalian, with his bloodied body, rose to his feet and smirked darkly.
[Hehehe! In battles between masters, a single move can change the outcome.]
Soon, he approached the stunned Dolores with a wicked smile.
Stealthily, the face at the forefront once again transformed into that of a stern middle-aged
man. The leader of the Old Testament Faction, Cardinal Humbert.
[My daughter, I am endlessly disappointed in you.]
“…!”
[You were sent to the academy to elevate the family’s prestige, and this is the trouble you’ve
caused? Are you pleased to publicize the family’s disgrace?]
Humbert’s face twisted with a disdainful expression as if he found her pitiable.
[I believed in you, Dolores, that you would become a better person.]
“…!”
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
At that moment, Dolores’s small and frail body began to tremble once more. “…Night
Hound.”
The previous time, Vikir had helped her overcome the terrifying manifestation of Humbert
from the sack of Terror. But this time, Night Hound wasn’t there to save her. She cowered in
fear, her previous confidence lost. It was as if she were trapped inside an eggshell.
Crack!
Humbert’s face contorted with a wide grin, and his jaw, with no hinge joint, opened
endlessly, like a giant serpent’s maw. It was as though he intended to swallow Dolores,
imprisoned within the eggshell, whole.
Dantalian tried to devour Dolores with a sinister smile,
[Now, offer your face to me… Bit-!?]
But Dantalian’s voice was abruptly cut off.
With a sudden eruption of aura, a black blade cleaved through Dantalian’s throat without a
sound. Vikir stood behind him, his eyes chillingly cold.
[How…? I should’ve cut through his heart…?] Dantalian, with Nymphet’s face, stuttered.
Instead of replying, Vikir opened his black coat.
Chk-chk-chk-chk…
Inside, there was a black sphere with golden markings.
Madam Eight leg’s egg. It had shielded Vikir’s heart from Dantalian’s attack, despite the
slight damage to its shell.
Vikir tucked it back into his embrace.
“I don’t have much to say…”
In that instant, Vikir beheaded Dantalian.
“Go back to hell.”
That was Dantalian’s final moment.
…Thud! …Th-thud! Clatter!
Dantalian’s many faces fell to the ground and rolled along the floor.
However…
[Brother… Brother… I’m in so much pain…] Dantalian’s lingering will remained.
Under Nymphet’s face… her arms and legs slowly began to regenerate. It was as though it
wanted to crawl away, moving hesitantly across the floor.
But Vikir blocked its path. His gaze was unwavering, with no hint of emotion.
…Squish!
The final blade pierced Nimphet’s torso.
With that, Nimphet’s movements came to a halt.
[…]
She looked up with eyes that seemed like they could tear up at any moment.
[Thank you… big brother…]
Only then did Vikir’s gaze waver.
“….”
Vikir knelt cautiously, cradling Nymphet’s face in his hands. Nimphet, despite her crumbling
form, struggled to lift herself and wrapped her arms around Vikir’s neck.
Kiss…
And then, Nimphet lightly kissed Vikir’s cheek.
Tsk, tsk, tsk…
Before long, everything disappeared. All the darkness vanished, leaving behind only the ruins
and debris.
Dolores’s hand, which had approached unnoticed, gently clasped Vikir’s hand.
“Night Hound… Are you alright?”
Even though she had just struggled against Humbert’s illusion, her first concern was Vikir’s
well-being.
At that moment…
Tak!
A metallic sound echoed through the gaps between the fallen pillars.
Vikir and Dolores both turned their heads simultaneously.
Glimmering brightly was a golden necklace with the engraved letters “Nymphet.”
It became a name that’ll stay etched into their minds forever.
*****
Chapter 168: Sins and Punishment (7)
The next morning, the entire Indulgentia Orphanage was in shock. The buildings were all in
ruins, yet for some reason, no one who had been sleeping through the night claimed to have
heard a sound. It was as if it had all been a dream.
Naturally, the whole world was in chaos. From early in the morning, people were bustling
around amidst the ruins, and the volunteer students from Colosseo Academy were left
bewildered.
“What in the world is going on?”
“It’s truly astonishing.”
“Why didn’t we hear anything when the buildings were collapsing?”
Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy were looking around with dumbfounded expressions. They were
about to return to the academy now, but it seemed their steps wouldn’t come easily. After all,
the place where they had been volunteering for the past ten days had been turned into a field
of destruction.
Then, Bianca and Sinclaire arrived.
“They say Night Hound was here last night.”
“It’s scary. Everyone was sleeping, and…”
The students who had come for volunteer work began discussing the fearsome villain that had
attacked the orphanage. They were concerned that they might have become the target of this
killer if they had made even a slight mistake.
“It’s a pity! We had the opportunity to prove our worth as future heroes!”
“Why would he wear a mask and only appear at night? He’s definitely a thief. If he gets
caught, I’d…”
“Hey, everyone. Isn’t this a bit scary? There have already been quite a few deaths caused by
that murderer.”
“What’s so scary? If he shows up, I’ll shoot him with one of my arrows!”
“There are many interesting aspects to this villain worth researching.”
Everyone was getting excited.
Meanwhile, as the puppies were howling and crying in a circle, Dolores’ voice was heard.
“Academy students, please return to the school now. Please gather in one place. Those from
Quovadis Clan, please remain here.”
Saintess Dolores was overseeing the reconstruction of the destroyed buildings and the
counting of casualties.
Surprisingly, despite the disaster that occurred in the early hours of the morning, there wasn’t
a single person who had died or been injured. However, a large number of remains of
children around thirteen years old were found in all the places Night Hound had visited. Most
notably, the remains of around thirteen boys and girls were found below the residence of the
head of the Indulgentia family, Quilt.
Countless reporters arrived and began covering this horrific scene. Academy reporters did the
same. Dolores didn’t particularly interfere with their reporting, but her attitude was somewhat
encouraging.
On the other hand, Quovadis sent an investigative team early in the morning. Young priests
from the New Testament sect came to diagnose the health of the children and thoroughly
search the scene of the tragedy.
However, some priests from the Old Testament sect tried to do the same, but:
“Saintess Dolores is still investigating you, so please leave the scene for now.”
Inquisitor Mozgus, a part of the new testament faction, was preventing the Old Testament
team from investigating. Some of the Old Testament priests resisted.
“Quovadis is the same for both factions! Are you discriminating based on denominations?”
“Even the priests of the Old Testament have a duty and a right to diagnose the health of the
children and to save them!”
“Mozgus! Saintess Dolores! What are you doing? If I report this to Cardinal Humbert, he will
give you a severe reprimand immediately!”
Mozgus did not say a word and blocked their way like a fortress. The dispute with the Old
Testament faction’s priests seemed like a mere formality to him.
Looking out into the distance, he turned to Dolores and said in a low voice.
“It’s not a bad thing to look for and address the family’s weaknesses. The actions of Night
Hound are unforgivable, but… in a way, he’s doing a commendable job of exposing the rot
within the family.”
It was remarkable for a strict adherent of principles like Mozgus to speak like this.
Mozgus had been silently observing Dolores, recalling how she had worked tirelessly during
the Red Plague outbreak. He felt a certain fondness for her as he spoke. Dolores nodded.
“Mozgus, I’m entrusting you with the situation here.”
“Understood. Are you going back to the academy, Saintess?”
“No, I still have one thing to do.”
“What is it?”
At Mozgus’s question, Dolores simply smiled.
Suddenly, Mozgus noticed that Dolores had become much more vibrant than before. She
used to be a strict and stern teenage girl with internal conflicts and turmoil. But now…
“She has become even stronger.”
As if shedding a layer of inhibition, she shone more brightly and energetically. There was a
subtle freshness about her face. Dolores was in a state of relief and newfound happiness
because of her shared experience with Night Hound the previous night, even though it was
temporary. She had never been able to voice her innermost thoughts or share her feelings.
She felt a great thrill at being understood for the first time and receiving comfort from
someone.
Because of this, she was no longer afraid of the world that had pressured, intimidated, and
oppressed her.
“Saintess Dolores! Why are you blocking us like this?”
“Please let us participate in the investigation!”
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
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*****
“Just because we belong to the Old Testament, can we be discriminated against? We are all
brothers and sisters under the banner of Quovadis!”
“Dolores! If Cardinal Humbert finds out about this…!”
The Old Testament priests protested with raised voices.
Ignoring them, Dolores stepped forward.
Thunk.
She took out several pieces of paper from her chest.
The envelope with stamps and addresses. It bore the seal of the Indulgentia family, a
prominent family of priests that had served both the government and the Rune church for
generations. She had received these documents from Night Hound before he left.
“Make good use of these.”
That was all he had said before disappearing.
Now, Dolores began to read from the documents.
“Month 0, Day 0! Selling a list of indulgences and punishments!”
Although her voice trembled, it did not falter.
“Sender: Quilt Rune Indulgentia. Recipient: ‘Humbert L Quovadis’ (Grand Cardinal)!”
As she held the letter, the papers crinkled under her grasp.
1. Lord Bequin’s Deed: Murdered his parents who intended to donate their inheritance
instead of leaving it to him, disguised the act as an accident and seized the inheritance.
Payment: 1.5 billion gold. All sins are forgiven.
2. Viscount LaGesso: Defiled and murdered twin sisters who worked as maids and disposed
of them as if it were an accident, leading them to an agonizing death. Payment: 200 million
gold. All sins are forgiven.
3. Baron PeppaPig: Killed a business associate and embezzled the investment money. The
family of the business associate was pushed into a state of extreme poverty and committed
mass suicide. Payment: 800 million gold. All sins are forgiven.
4. Countess Aizel: Accused of large-scale tax evasion, amounting to nearly 1,000 billion
gold. Payment: 300 million gold. All sins are forgiven.
5. Quacar’s CEO: Charged with stock manipulation, driving over ten thousand small
investors to suicide. Payment: 5 billion gold. All sins are forgiven.
.
.
The documents contained a record of all the indulgences that Quilt, or rather Dantalian, had
sold to nobles and merchants who had visited the Old Testament’s Temple over time. The list
included various crimes such as tax evasion, stock manipulation, sexual offenses, contract
killings, arson, assault, murder for hire, and other inhumane acts. It revealed how closely the
Quovadis family, the Old Testament of the Quovadis family, was associated with these illegal
and criminal activities.
The shocking and undeniable evidence was presented to the world, and it was done by none
other than the Saintess of Quovadis herself.
*****
Chapter 169
Title: “Sins and Punishment (8)”
The Old Testament Faction’s priests voice their concerns to Dolores.
“Saintess! Do you know what you are doing at this moment? How can you read Quilt’s letters
so recklessly? He was a devout follower of our faith! How can you disrespect the letter he left
behind?”
“Moreover, isn’t this a conversation to be had with Archbishop Humbert? It’s confidential,
confidential!”
“If you make such things public…!?”
They seemed concerned about losing the support of the New Testament Faction’s priests. It
appeared that in times of crisis, helping the sick and comforting the afflicted residents would
strengthen their image.
Therefore, the Old Testament Faction’s priests wanted to get involved in disaster recovery as
soon as possible. Their dissatisfaction with Dolores and the New Testament Faction’s priests,
including Mozgus, was due to this.
…But their dissatisfaction didn’t last long.
“Quiet.”
When Dolores cast her icy gaze, they froze in their tracks. It was the first time she, known for
her warm and compassionate nature, had shown such a cold and sharp look.
It’s often said that when a gentle person gets angry, it’s even scarier. As Dolores uttered a
single word, the Old Testament Faction’s priests were forced to stop in their tracks, one by
one.
Following her stern words, everyone’s faces began to turn pale.
“Count Gorg: Murdered his bride who resisted during the consummation ceremony! Then
imposed a hefty fine on the deceased priest’s family for his suicide! Resulting in their ruin!
Offering a donation of one billion gold coins as atonement!”
“Madam Mosk: Illegally secured employment in the central bank for her sons through corrupt
means, promoting many unqualified job applicants to get the job even though they failed!
This, too, is atonement at two billion gold coins per son!”
“Director Gerassau: Embezzlement, fraud, and stock manipulation causing shareholders
approximately 20 billion gold coins in losses and illicit gains! Atonement at 50 million gold
coins!”
“Madame Pierre: Abducted and exploited underage boys with no place to go, subjecting them
to sexual exploitation and illegal forced labor! Atonement at 150 million gold coins!”
“False Prophet Manimani: Intentionally spreading disease among believers, causing fear
among the public and paralyzing the local economy! Atonement at one billion gold coins!”
Quilt’s rash decision to sell atonement at what price had now been revealed to all. Serious
crimes that would never be forgiven in normal circumstances were being listed one after the
other. In addition, the amounts paid as atonement were paltry in comparison to the gravity of
the crimes. “Human face, animal heart.” How could someone dressed as a saint commit such
atrocities? Even the priests of the Old Testament Faction, who had been protesting, began to
doubt their own ears.
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
“Did we really sell atonement to those demons?”
“And at that price? Seriously, there must be some missing zeros.”
“Especially False Prophet Manimani, shouldn’t he get a death penalty?”
“I can’t believe it! How could Cardinal Humbert and Quilt do such vile things, even if it’s
called atonement?”
“But the seals on those letters are unmistakably…”
The murmuring wasn’t limited to the Old Testament Faction’s priests. The unease spread to
all common people of Quovadis.
“How could Quovadis do such a thing!”
“The corruption of faith!”
“Calm down! That’s an Old Testament problem! It has nothing to do with the New
Testament’s priests!”
“Don’t put this on the Old Testament priests! It’s a problem of a very small faction!”
The murmuring grew even more intense. The priests now seemed ready to start brawling
amongst themselves amid this confusion.
Amidst the chaos, Dolores continued to read the information provided by Night Hound. The
documents detailed Quilt and Humbert’s dealings, the heinous practices of those ostensibly in
high society, the misappropriation of donations meant for the church, covert transactions for
political funds and illegal lobbying, and even connections with secret religious Factions in
various regions.
Furthermore, they even sold items like scrap metal, pieces of wood, straw, and even pig
bones as relics. It was revealed that each relic when bought, granted one year of exemption
from purgatory. The number of such sold relics had already exceeded 30,000.
Upon learning all these facts, the public was shocked.
“…”
Even the academy’s young male and female journalists stopped their note-taking and had
blank expressions.
A young saintess had exposed the disgraceful acts of faith that happened in the QuoVadis
Clan.
Dolores kept goin on.
“I, Dolores of the New Testament, respond to the Old Testament’s factions teachings as
follows:!”
Once again, the pens of the audience fell silent. The sound of scribbling notes echoed
throughout the room. Mana screens were also flashing all over the place.
With a resolute voice, Dolores began her speech.
“First! When our Lord and Teacher says, ‘Repent,’ He means that believers should repent
throughout their entire lives! Second! This statement cannot be interpreted as confession and
atonement by the rite of repentance performed for the Lord! … Fifth! The Pope has no power
or intention to forgive any punishment other than the punishment imposed by his jurisdiction
or the church law! Sixth! The Pope has no power to forgive any sin other than declaring or
confessing sins forgiven by the Lord. … Twenty-seventh! The teaching that ‘when money is
thrown into the offering box, it rings loudly, and the soul escapes from purgatory’ is a human
doctrine! … Forty-fifth! The person who takes money from many people who have been
deceived by atonement preachers should, if necessary, sell all the church buildings of the
main church to repay them to the Lord’s believers! … Ninetieth! Oppressing without
addressing valid reasons for objections and using power alone is a mockery of the Pope and
brings unhappiness to the believers of the Lord! … Ninety-fifth! By doing so, it is necessary
to teach the Lord’s believers that it is not atonement but the Lord’s wrath to waste for the
sake of atonement! … And much more.”
She smoothly read through the 95 points of her rebuttal without faltering, leaving even the
opposition, the Old Testament priests, impressed with her eloquence. At the same time,
Dolores felt a surge of energy. She thought back to what had happened earlier in the night, or
rather, in the early morning.
The Night Hound. His presence had made her feel strong and sturdy. The strength, however,
had vanished as if it were a lie. Her priestly robe, with its characteristic loose white skirt, had
concealed her trembling, for which she was grateful.
Mozgus, who had been at her side, supported her. “A splendid rebuttal, Saintess. It was
nothing but wise words! Mozgus is deeply moved.”
“…I’m not sure.”
Dolores recalled the events from the previous night, or rather, this morning. Night hound had
said, “In the era of destruction, true awakening requires you to meet a genuine companion of
the soul.” Awakening would lead to the resonance of the soul, emotional harmony, and a
significant increase in divine power.
But how could she achieve this continuous awakening? Night Hound had disappeared, and
she had no one left to ask, no one to test.
“They’re quite scattered, but in the past, the Old Testament saints occasionally spoke about
words related to awakening. Don’t dismiss it as nonsensical rambling, but try to remember
them better.”
Dolores still couldn’t grasp why Night Hound could be her partner and fulfill the condition
for awakening. “Perhaps he’s the only one who came from the era of destruction and truly
knows the meaning of ‘destruction.'”
Anyway.
The man chosen by Runes.
At this point, he was the only one who qualified to be the companion of her soul.
Dolores raised her head again and spoke softly.
“‘Night Hound.’ I must meet him again.”
And at that moment…
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of mana screenshots exploding from behind was deafening. Startled, Dolores
turned her head, and a swarm of journalists had crowded near her in the blink of an eye.
Journalists, speaking in unison, said, “Saintess has declared a ‘Holy War’ against Night
Hound!”
*****
Chapter 170: Madam Eight-Leg’s Offspring (1)
[Exclusive] [Saintess Declares Holy War Against Night Hound!]
“I must meet him again.”
[On the morning of October 1st, Saintess Dolores of Quovadis displayed strong hostility
towards the ‘Night Hound.’]
As she bit her lip, her determined expression hinted at impending turmoil.
Bang. Whose reputation will be tarnished— Night Hound’s, or Quovadis’?
On the other hand, there are arguments that Dolores, who usually speaks with mild and
diplomatic language, unusually used such strong expressions. Some are speculating that there
may be a possibility of her declaring a ‘Holy War’.
Various newspapers began to circulate this news.
The volunteer group, returning to Colosseo Academy, was astonished when they read the
article in the Academy Weekly newspaper.
“Wow! The article is already out? We were part of this historic moment.”
“Hmm, did President Dolores declare a holy war?”
“It didn’t seem like that kind of atmosphere. The article seems a bit exaggerated.”
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca each had something to say as they read the newspapers.
Sinclaire also nodded in agreement.
“Well, reporters tend to be like that. They have to write provocatively to get more views.”
“Vikir, what do you think?”
Sinclaire asked, and everyone turned their gaze in her direction.
Vikir stood a bit apart from the group as he read the newspaper. There was a melancholic and
distant air about him that no one could quite understand.
“Why is he so serious? Hey, aren’t you coming? Well, then, we’ll go first…”
Bianca muttered, and Tudor playfully nudged her in the side.
“Hey, don’t you have any consideration?”
“What? Consideration for what?”
“Vikir’s feelings?”
“Ah, I don’t know how he’s feeling.”
“Tsk, thoughtless child. Vikir is probably going to want some alone time.”
“I guess. I would feel that way.”
“Comforting someone while they’re hurting can be poisonous.”
“That’s true. The rumors are just dirty gossip.”
“Right, I’m fine with Vikir even if he peed. It’s not like we’re going to spread any rumors.”
“…No, no matter how broad-minded we are, it’s still bothersome.”
Sinclaire, looking back at Vikir standing behind her, expressed her sympathy.
“…I don’t mind even if he peed on someone.”
“Of course, it’s fine with you. Because it wasn’t you who peed.”
Tudor patted Sinclaire on the shoulder and then looked at the others.
“Okay, everybody understands, right? So, let’s give Vikir some alone time. Figgy, how about
sleeping in our room today? Let him be alone for a while.”
“Can I do that? Thanks, Sancho.”
“Thanks, Sancho.”
During this volunteer activity, Figgy also seemed to have become quite friendly with the
other friends. They naturally distanced themselves to give Vikir some alone time.
Meanwhile…
“Is he leaving early? This worked out well.”
Vikir was watching as his fellow students moved away in groups.
Kachk—
He turned onto a side path.
Walking alone towards the dormitory, Vikir sat down at his desk in silence.
A small bouquet and an incense holder were placed on his desk.
While the incense burned, Vikir recited a sutra.
It was a requiem for Nymphet.
‘Aren’t you too harsh on the kid? Did you get a kiss or not?’
‘I didn’t get one.’
‘It’s not ‘didn’t,’ it’s ‘haven’t!’ The child wanted to kiss you. Just take it!’
The conversation from the farewell party flashed through Vikir’s mind.
“I should have waited then, even if it meant receiving a kiss,” Vikir muttered as he furrowed
his brows slightly.
‘I need to hunt even harder.’
In the era of destruction, innocent children like Nymphets would inevitably suffer and die if
nothing was done. To avoid this, Vikir felt compelled to pursue demons even more zealously.
He determined that all demons and traitorous servants who had sided with them should be
exterminated.
‘To do that… I need to check the harvest first’
Vikir reached into his pouch and brought out several black leather sacks. These were
obtained from Ephebo, Hebe, Pedo, and Gerento.
The black leather sacks had purple threads running through them and appeared to be alive.
When he combined them, he saw something unusual.
“T-This is…”
Vikir’s eyes widened as he held up a large mask that looked like a combination of a hood and
cowl. It featured two sharp protrusions near the ears, reminiscent of a Doberman’s earless
skull.
Vikir already knew the identity of this artifact.
“…I see. So it’s this, huh.”
The mask emitted an ominous aura. It was an artifact rivaling the [Demon Sword Beelzebub.]
[Mask of Many Faces ‘Picaresque’] / Mask
-Tribal Grudge +0
-Human Heart in a Beast’s Form -Off
Vikir closed his eyes and recalled information about this artifact. He had read about it in an
ancient Eastern bestiary.
‘Could it be that wearing this mask makes you stronger every time you kill someone of the
same kind?’
According to the tales, when a human wore the mask, they became increasingly powerful
each time they killed another human. The mask was said to have mysterious powers that
provided exceptional regenerative and mana-boosting abilities to its wearer.
‘Although, I did hear about some minor side effects as well…’
Vikir decided to put on the mask. He draped it over his head.
“Ah!”
*****
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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*****
Vikir suddenly felt his body changing. His damaged body and stamina, exhausted from the
recent battle with Dantalian, were rapidly rejuvenating. The regenerative power of the mask
was even superior to the Fog Lizard’s rejuvenation.
“This is damn amazing!”
The fog lizard’s rejuvenation excelled at regenerating lost tissue, but it couldn’t restore
stamina and mental energy. However, the mask possessed the ability to replenish all aspects
of the wearer’s strength.
‘…But there is one problem.’
Vikir noticed that his body had become significantly smaller.
“Eh?”
He turned his head toward a nearby mirror and was shocked to see a small, black dog—a tiny
ball of black fur with sharp teeth, cute eyes, and pink jelly-like paw pads.
‘Is… this me?’
Vikir had transformed into a real dog. While there was an idiom in Korean that said,
“Drinking alcohol turns you into a dog,” this was far from a metaphor. He was a genuine dog,
complete with glossy black fur, sharp teeth, adorable eyes, and cute, pink paw pads.
‘Let’s not even talk about this-!’
Vikir lamented his fate in silence.
The idiom “Drinking alcohol turns you into a dog” was only figurative and metaphorical. It
was used to describe someone’s drunken behavior, not an actual transformation into a canine.
Vikir found himself in a rather unique situation.
‘Off.’ Vikir decided.
He removed the mask. This time, his human form remained intact. The mask seemed to
provide the wearer with the ability to transform at will.
Vikir sat on the floor and dressed himself, silently cursing the inconvenience of shedding his
clothes before using the mask.
“Using the mask to transform into a dog whenever I want could be a handy ability.”
He recognized that the mask’s superior regeneration and shape-shifting abilities would be
quite useful during his future hunting activities.
‘I wonder if it’s allowed to keep pets in the academy?’
Fortunately, there were no rules against keeping animals inside the academy dormitories.
Many students kept animals like owls, pigeons, turtles, hamsters, and other small creatures as
pets. The only restrictions seemed to apply to larger animals like bears or elephants.
Vikir decided to take a closer look at the dormitory rules and regulations.
As he was absorbed in reading, a slight noise caught his attention.
“?”
It was the sound of something small and insignificant breaking.
Vikir turned his head in curiosity, trying to identify the source of the noise.
The noise came from a corner of the room where Vikir had hung a coat.
“Ah?”
Investigating further, he discovered something astonishing—a black sphere with a gradually
thinning shell. It was an egg, the egg of Madam Eight legs.
“Right, I remember now. This little guy helped block Dantalian’s spear.”
Unexpectedly, the egg, which was known for its extreme toughness and elasticity, didn’t look
as pristine as before. The shell was slowly cracking.
“Ah, that’s right. Even Madam Eight Legs ate her eggs to regain stamina, so the egg’s
resilience isn’t a surprise.”
Vikir had expected the egg to be robust but not completely unbreakable. After all, Madam
Eight legs ate them easily, but Vikir was still shocked by its extraordinary resilience and
durability.
However, when he examined the eggshell, it had cracked in several places.
“The eggshell is breaking?”
Vikir stared at the eggshell with a puzzled expression.
Eventually, with a “pop,” the eggshell shattered completely. Inside, there was a tiny creature
that opened its eyes and stared at Vikir.
“?”
Vikir cocked his head in bewilderment.
Inside the broken eggshell, there was a small, bread-like lump with crumbs that looked like a
biscuit. It was a creature he had never seen before, a real oddity.
Curiously, the creature gazed back at Vikir as it emerged from the eggshell.
“?”
Vikir raised an eyebrow.
The tiny creature in the eggshell looked right at him and blinked. It was a perplexing sight.
Vikir scratched his head, feeling slightly awkward and unsure of how to react.
This peculiar little being was indeed the offspring of Madam Eight legs, the ruler who had
terrorized the entire Red and Black mountains..
‘But, is it possible that the offspring of Madam Eightlegs would be so… harmless?’
Despite its intimidating lineage, the creature had none of the menace or fearfulness associated
with its mother.
Vikir watched in amazement as the tiny creature, resembling a weird brownie, appeared to
mimic his curious gestures.
[Woof- Hah- Arf-Arf-]
The creature made various noises, wagging its “tail” and nuzzling Vikir’s hands, much like a
young wolf.
[TL/N: Maybe the spider was shaking its butt like a tail.]
Vikir stared at the little creature, astonished by its behavior.
Despite its lineage, this peculiar offspring seemed far from fearsome.
*****
Chapter 171: Madam Eight-Leg’s Offspring (2)
Vikir closed his eyes.
He reminisced about a past, his fight with that terrifying monster, ‘Madam Eight legs’.
Danger Level: S
Size: ?
Location: Red and Black Mountain Range.
Also known as the ‘Lady of Death,’ Madam Eight-Leg’s precise species remained unknown.
In ancient times, deep within Abyss, there existed enormous spiders, and Madam Eight-Legs
was believed to be a descendant of those sinister creatures, retaining their massive form.
Her body was filled with repulsive venom, and her web was nearly indestructible, aside from
the hellfire of the underworld. Even Vikir, a seasoned hound, had nearly met his end in that
battle.
This gigantic queen spider was so formidable that even ancient monsters who ruled the
Mountains found her challenging to deal with, providing her offspring with an independent
territory in a secluded part of the Abyss.
And now, right before Vikir’s eyes, there was the last descendant of that fearsome spider.
Krzzt-Krung!
Vikir held a small, round, dust-like creature that looked like a doodle made by a bored artist.
It had two flimsy legs poking out from which it sat and walked clumsily.
“Madam’s… offspring?”
Madam’s child, or the offspring of Madam Eight Legs. This small, insignificant creature was
currently sitting on Vikir’s palm, its tiny legs wiggling as it emitted a soft chirping noise.
It resembled an affectionate puppy in its behavior.
‘…Is it because it was raised by wolves in the early stages?’
This must be why they emphasize prenatal care, Vikir thought. He could now somewhat
understand why expectant mothers played foreign language lessons or classical music to their
unborn children.
Just then, Vikir made a peculiar discovery.
Squelch!
A white, gooey substance was beginning to ooze where the baby Madam had just licked. As
soon as it touched the air, it solidified into fine threads, as thin as a spider’s silk.
‘…Is this spider thread? It’s incredibly sturdy.’
Vikir stretched out the string of silk that the baby Madam had produced from its mouth.
Ordinary spider threads had a tensile strength far superior to the same amount of steel, and
they were even more elastic. But this was no ordinary spider; it was the descendant of
Madam Eight-Legs, and the silk it spun was the ultimate wire.
…Snap!
Vikir exerted considerable force before managing to break the thin thread.
That was all he could pull from it.
“Elasticity, strength, and it’s even adhesive…”
Furthermore, while ordinary spider threads would melt when exposed to fire, this silk
exhibited exceptional resistance to flames.
‘Well, if it weren’t for Cerberus’s Hellfire, I wouldn’t have been able to cut through this
spider thread.’
Vikir recalled his battles with Madam Eight-Legs.
Krzzt-Krung! Hrk-hrk!
Meanwhile, the baby Madam continued to frolic on Vikir’s palm as if craving the affection of
a mother, given its lack of a mother.
Vikir suddenly felt a sense of pity for the little creature.
‘Your mother was indeed a fearsome monster.’
He couldn’t help but picture her gruesome habit of devouring her own offsprings, and he
thought it must’ve been better for it to part ways with her.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
…Well, anyway.
Perhaps due to the imprinting effect, Madam’s offspring now followed Vikir quite
obediently.
Just then, with a gulp, the baby Madam lay flat on Vikir’s palm.
‘…Are you hungry?’
[Hrk-hrk-hrk!]
It looked like a lump of black crumbs, much like a burnt brownie left behind by a clumsy
baker.
‘By the way, what do I feed this little one?’
Should I give it insects, or maybe meat?
Vikir rummaged through a drawer and retrieved a few biscuits, a piece of salted ham, and a
slice of cold spinach pie.
However…
Nom-nom-nom…
The baby Madam didn’t seem particularly fond of the biscuits and ham; it merely nibbled on
them out of courtesy. In fact, it promptly spat out the spinach pie as soon as it touched its lips.
‘…This little one is quite particular,’ Vikir mused.
Vikir gently placed the baby Madam on the back of his left hand. The tiny creature settled in
like a wristwatch, with its two legs embracing Vikir’s wrist.
“Alright, let’s go find something for you to eat.”
Vikir left the dormitory room, though there weren’t many places he could visit. First, he
considered the library, a good place to gather information.
Vikir walked across the campus, heading towards the library. As he entered the grand
entrance of the library, part of the Colosseo Academy, the sight of the vast shelves filled with
various books greeted him.
He made his way to the section dedicated to nature, biology, and creatures.
“Spiders… spiders… ‘S’…”
As Vikir scanned the shelves one by one…
“Oh! Vikir, my dear big brother~!”
Through a gap between bookshelves, he spotted two round eyes. When he turned, he saw a
girl with white hair looking in his direction, smiling brightly.
It was Sinclaire.
She hurried over and turned the corner of the bookshelves, walking towards Vikir. She
moved like an excited little puppy; if she had a tail, it would be wagging vigorously by now.
“Vikir, you coming to the library? It’s my first time seeing you here.”
“Well, I come here from time to time. It’s my first time meeting you, though.”
“Are you here to study or to borrow books?”
Sinclaire’s chest bore a badge confirming her position as a library assistant.
Feeling that things were going well, Vikir asked, “Do you have any books about spiders?”
“Oh, curious about how to kill spiders? You’ll find plenty in the pest control section! Why,
do you have a spider in your room?”
Well, there is a spider, but…
At that moment, Vikir felt a slight trembling in his left wrist.
Grrrr…
The baby Madam wore a displeased expression, resembling a hastily scribbled eyebrow, as if
she was angry. She even made a growling sound to appear intimidating.
Vikir discreetly covered his wrist and revised his question, “Not about getting rid of spiders,
but about how to raise them.”
“Ah, spider breeding? Well, there are some related books in that direction. Are you going to
raise them? Do you like spiders?”
“Not particularly… but I think I might grow to like them.”
“Oh, you like spiders? Is it because they have a lot of fur? Many legs? Many eyes? What
about scorpions, centipedes, and mantises? How about beetles? Well, spiders aren’t insects, I
suppose.”
Sinclaire’s curiosity seemed limitless, and Vikir couldn’t help but think she was far from the
quiet, studious individual he had imagined her to be.
After a while, Vikir borrowed a few books and quietly made his way to a secluded spot.
“…Now, let’s see. How to raise spiders.”
Vikir slowly flipped through the pages of the book.
‘It is critical to keep the temperature and humidity stable… Mold susceptible… There is no
need for lighting… When molting, be cautious… Individual species have different molting
periods… Toilet training necessitates patience… Pay attention to prenatal and early
childhood education… Using a muzzle during walks is a method for large spiders..’
Most of the information was common sense and general advice.
‘Hmm. It says to feed them small insects or pieces of meat as a baby. Why won’t this one eat
it?’
Vikir looked down at the baby Madam on his left wrist. She was still huddled up, appearing
displeased.
Then, he stumbled upon something interesting. Some “extraordinary” spiders from
mythology or folklore would consume “venom” during their developmental stage.
“…They eat venom?”
Vikir turned the page to find more information. It seemed that young spiders, born with great
potential, developed differently based on the types of venom they consumed during their
early stages. To grow into a formidable adult spider, they needed to consume a variety of
strong venoms.
“…So that’s it. They consume venom.”
Vikir immediately took action. He bit his finger, drawing blood. It was the potent venom
from Madam Eight-Legs.
However, when he offered the venom to the baby Madam…
[Ack—Bleh—]
She shivered, spat it out, and slumped to the side.
“What’s wrong now, you little troublemaker?”
Vikir turned the pages again. It seemed that recently hatched babies should start with milder
venoms and gradually work their way up. As they aged and grew stronger, they would be
able to digest more potent venom, eventually becoming a top predator in the local ecosystem.
“…I see. Madam Eight-Leg’s venom, even for me it’s unquestionably something even I
wouldn’t dare to experiment with.”
Her venom contained various extreme properties, from potent acidity and neurotoxins to
hemorrhagic toxins, skin irritants, muscular toxins, gastrointestinal irritants, odorous toxins,
convulsant toxins, respiratory toxins, and even shape-changing toxins, among others.
The venom was too intense for the newly hatched baby Madam to handle.
“Alright. I’ll find milder venom for you. In the meantime, you’ll have to make do with
insects.”
Vikir caught a butterfly and offered it to the baby Madam. She reluctantly accepted it, but her
expression indicated she didn’t find it particularly tasty.
At that moment, a voice reached Vikir’s ears from a distance.
“Vikir! Where are you?!”
Looking in the direction of the voice, he saw Figgy rushing toward him, holding a newspaper
in his hand.
“Vikir! We’re in big trouble!”
“How did you know I was here?”
“Guess where else you’d be! You’re always either in the dorm, classroom, club room, library,
dining hall, or gym! But that’s not important right now… Look at this!”
Figgy handed Vikir the newspaper with excitement.
“We’ve become superstars!”
——————
Chapter 172: The Anti-Columnist (Part 1)
Vikir looked at the article that Figgy handed to him.
[Exclusive] ‘Night Hound,’ an Unprecedented Villain Wielding Terror in Venetior!
The ‘Night Hound’ has reappeared, causing unprecedented terror throughout Venetior.
Despite ongoing fear of terrorism, the true identity of this threat remains a mystery. Is ‘Night
Hound’ an individual or an organization? What are their motives? No one, not even the
noblest families, including the royal family, has been able to uncover the truth. As a result,
the race to reveal this heinous villain’s identity and apprehend them has intensified.
The seven great noble clans of the Empire, including the Baskerville clan, Morg Clan,
DonQuixote Clan, Usher House, the Ruthless Reviadon clan, Industrial clan Bourgeois, and
the Holy Quovadis Clan, have expressed their strong determination to capture the terrorist
and have formed pursuit squads. A bounty of 100 billion gold coins has been placed on the
‘Night Hound’ within Venetior…
Below the article, there were a few magical photos that moved.
The newspaper appeared to be from an external major publishing company. The photos
depicted the scenes of the attacks on the branches of the Quovadis clan which belonged to the
Old Testament faction, and Vikir was also captured in one of the photos.
Of course, Vikir’s image was small and inconspicuous, and next to him were Tudor, Sancho.
Figgy, Bianca, Sinclaire, and other kids, so there was no need to be concerned.
“Look, Vikir! We’re in the newspaper! I never thought I’d see the day when I’d be in the
media!”
Figgy was amazed by his role in a small corner of the photo.
But soon, his excitement faded.
“Oh, right. This is a photo of a terrible disaster. It’s not something to be happy about. I’m
trash…”
“Settle down. The one who caused the disaster is a bad guy, not you.”
Vikir patted Figgy’s shoulder and continued reading the newspaper.
“Hmm. There’s no mention of the Saint declaring a Holy War.”
“That part is strangely missing from the newspaper. The story about the ‘Night Hound’
attacking the Old Testament faction is also missing. Details about the sins they confessed to
the social elite, as well as the pardons they received, are also missing. How come it wasn’t
included?”
Figgy’s question elicited a dry smile from Vikir.
The media is like that by nature.
It caters to the powerful and attacks the weak.
A dog barking for a tastier piece of meat.
The law of the jungle states that it can only bite as much as it can chew.
‘Humbert’s influence seems way too strong.’
No matter how hard he searched the newspaper, there was no content criticizing the Old
Testament faction.
It seemed that the ‘Night Hound’ was being vilified as a public enemy to cover up the
situation.
Figgy’s next words made Vikir nod in agreement.
“Oh, by the way, Vikir! Did you pick up this week’s club assignment? Professor Banshee
told us to write a column condemning the ‘Night Hound.’ It can be a simple editorial format.
If the writing is good, it might even get published in the Academy Newspaper, even if you’re
just a first-year…”
It seemed that the Academy had also decided to align with the ‘Night Hound’ hunt.
“First, it’s a good idea to go along with this trend to avoid suspicion.”
Vikir was better equipped than anyone else to criticize ‘Night Hound.’
Because he knew the villain’s misdeeds better than anyone.
“A column, huh… Should I write words that would make no sense when I hear them
myself?”
Vikir took out a pen and began his struggle, or rather, his battle with himself.
***
The Academy Newspaper Department resonated with anger.
“Why was my column removed?” Dolores, the Student Council President of the Colosseo
academy and the head of the newspaper department, calmly voiced her complaint to
Professor Banshee Morg, the newspaper department’s advisor.
“…Do you need to ask why?” Professor Banshee’s black hair framed his sinister gaze, and a
single monocle dangled perilously on the tip of his hawkish nose. With a disinterested tone,
he sent the column Dolores had written flying onto his desk.
Where is the true antithesis of ‘Night Hound’?
‘Night Hound’ attacked over six of Quovadis’ branches, all of which belonged to the ‘Old
Testament faction.’ According to data provided by the New Testament faction, there were
covert dealings between the Old Testament faction and certain prominent figures involved in
this recent attack… Furthermore, there is still no evidence of any ‘murder’ left behind by
‘Night Hound’ at any of the scenes of these calamities…
Professor Banshee spoke with a brusque tone, “The Academy adheres to political neutrality.
We cannot publish such biased commentary.”
“Biased? I merely reported the facts!”
“Facts, you say? Did not Cardinal Humbert of the Old Testament faction deny all of this?
And didn’t the members of the social elite listed on the ‘pardon list’ also claim that this was
untrue?”
[Tl/N: If anyone knows, could you write a bit of a detailed explanation of the difference
between archbishop and cardinal? The novel uses both interchangeably, but I’m going to
stick to one in the future.]
“That’s just plain lies!”
“Is it, though? What if the truth lies on that side? Even if we miss one thief, we shouldn’t
falsely accuse ten innocent people. Isn’t that your usual belief?”
Dolores clenched her jaw tightly. Her bite was so hard that her neck seemed to throb with
veins.
Professor Banshee continued, “Furthermore, as the Academy’s Student Council President and
the head of the newspaper department, everyone knows that you are the Saintess of Quovadis,
affiliated mainly with the New Testament faction.”
Dolores remained silent.
“What message do you think your column portrays?”
Dolores had nothing to say.
“Do you think it’s a good idea for you to personally promote such a biased article? Or not?”
At that moment, veins appeared on Dolores’s forehead.
She opened her mouth to respond to Professor Banshee, “According to the Academy’s rules,
‘Students admitted to the University are all equal’ and ‘not influenced by external status.'”
“…”
“Although I am affiliated with Quovadis and belong to the New Testament faction, that’s
merely my external status. While I am a student at the Academy, I am just Dolores, an
ordinary student. I have the freedom to express my opinions on Quovadis or anything else.”
This time, Professor Banshee tightly sealed his lips.
Dolores and Professor Banshee’s eyes locked.
Eventually, Professor Banshee sighed.
“Fine, I acknowledge that.”
“?”
Dolores raised an eyebrow, perplexed, and Professor Banshee furrowed his brow.
“Quovadis sent a letter to the Academy.”
“A letter?”
“Yes. It’s the reporting guideline for these articles.”
“!”
A reporting guideline—it predefines the direction of reporting.
Professor Banshee shook his head slightly.
“For these articles, they have mostly advised us to focus on the heinous terrorist acts
committed by the ‘Night Hound’ and the interviews with the victims. They have asked to
exclude or minimize keywords like ‘Quovadis,’ ‘Old Testament,’ and ‘New Testament.'”
“That’s absurd! This is clearly an attempt to control the Academy’s neutrality!”
“In any case, that’s what it is. The Headmaster is also in quite a dilemma.”
“Is Cardinal Humbert so influential? To the extent that he can even trouble the Headmaster of
the Academy?”
“If it was just Cardinal Humbert, do you think I’d even talk with you about this?”
Dolores’s expression hardened at his words.
Above Cardinal Humbert, there was only one person within Quovadis who held such a
position.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
The Pope. Nabokov I Quovadis, he held the highest age and the purest sanctity.
“…How could this be?” She thought. Even if everyone else had fallen, this person would not
lose his purity. But how could such things be happening?
“Has Cardinal Humbert taken advantage of the Pope’s old age and clouded his judgment?
Could that be it?”
Dolores now had a new source of concern. She realized that even the Pope could be affected
by this.
When she became silent, Professor Banshee tapped the article on his desk with his fingers.
“Furthermore, leaving all these circumstances aside, your column was simply not suitable for
the newspaper. It’s too politically biased. Reading it, one cannot help but feel that you subtly
favor the Night Hound.”
“Then, what do you intend to publish in its place? A promotion for the newly opened play
club? A highlight from the sports club? The breathtaking rear view of the Academy
magazine’s cover model?”
“Don’t be sarcastic, Dolores. I am a professor, and you are a student.”
Finally, Professor Banshee opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper.
It was another column.
“…So, you plan to publish this in place of my column.”
Dolores raised an eyebrow, curious.
“…This one is much worse,” she commented, a rare comment from her. This would likely be
the harshest expression she could muster. But Professor Banshee, wearing a sly smile, nodded
slightly.
“I don’t consider this one a well-written piece either. However, it appropriately criticizes and
appeals to emotions, inciting in a suitable way. In these times, it’s perhaps the most fitting,
considering the circumstances. Besides, it has firsthand accounts, so it has its credibility.”
“…”
“In any case, that’s how it is. The midterm practical exams are coming up. Focus on those,
Dolores. A student’s primary responsibility is to study, isn’t it?”
Professor Banshee got up and walked past Dolores, leaving the room. Dolores bit her lip.
On that fateful night, she had witnessed the disaster at the Indulgentia Orphanage. Night
Hound was not evil in her eyes. The true evil, however, lay within Quovadis and the demons
it housed.
How many more demons could there possibly be in the world? How many more battles must
Night Hound fight and endure?
“To think they won’t even help but hinder and oppress…”
But there was no way to reveal the truth about the demons and their collaborators, let alone
do it all at once. Even if such evidence existed, it would take far too long to uncover.
She remembered what Night Hound told her before ‘there was not much time left’. Today,
after her frustrating conversation with Professor Banshee, she understood.
She understood why he had become an executioner and why he was willing to kill the
demons one by one, even if it meant risking his own life.
“It won’t do. I need to help him myself.”
Writing columns supporting the Night Hound might not be of practical help. If her home had
issued instructions on the matter, it was time to pick up a sword, not a pen, to assist him.
“I’d rather find Night Hound myself. I need to see him in person, to be able to help. I should
know his face and his name.”
Saint Dolores was determined. She decided to meet Night Hound herself, and for that, she
needed as much information as possible about him, particularly regarding his identity.
Dolores’ gaze was drawn to the paper on the desk. It was Professor Banshee’s column that
had taken her place. A scathing article that harshly condemns the Night Hound.
Dolores frowned as she read it. It was a distasteful and inferior article, but one passage caught
her eye.
“Transcending sin: Night Hound
-Night Hound has gone too far. He has wronged many innocent people with crimes that have
reached the heavens. Soon, the instruments of justice, such as spears, swords, arrows, and
magic, will be transformed into retributive tools to bring him to the judgment seat… I, who
witnessed Night Hound’s rampage at the Indulgentia Orphanage that night, can confidently
assert that now is your last chance to make peace by going to the prison yourself and die
peacefully!”
“Direct eyewitness?” Dolores mused aloud.
From the context, it was clear that the author of this column had seen Night Hound when all
the events had concluded. This meant that they had seen the Night Hound more recently than
Dolores had.
“Perhaps, the author has even seen Night hound’s face?”
Dolores grew anxious. She knew that when this column would be published, many journalists
would flock to interview the author. Fortunately, Professor Banshee had protected the
author’s anonymity in this case, but Dolores was determined to find out who the author was.
“It may be an abuse of power, but I have no other choice!”
It was a necessary step for the cause of justice. Dolores turned the column over and
discovered the author’s name.
She saw a familiar name.
“Cold Department, Class B – Vikir.”
——————
Chapter 173: The Anti-Columnist (Part 2)
[Exclusive] Crossing the Line: ‘Night Hound’ / Views: 3,872
-Night Hound has gone too far. He has wronged many innocent people with crimes that have
reached the heavens. Soon, the instruments of justice, such as spears, swords, arrows, and
magic, will be transformed into retributive tools to bring him to the judgment seat… I, who
witnessed Night Hound’s rampage at the Indulgentia Orphanage that night, can confidently
assert that now is your last chance to make peace by going to the prison yourself and die
peacefully!
ㅇㅇ (1st Year, Hot Department): Venetior is in chaos.
ㅇㅇ (1st Year, Cold Department): Seriously, they need to arrest ‘Night Hound.’ What is the
royal family doing? LOL.
ㅇㅇ (2nd Year, Cold Department): Do you think they aren’t busy? Is the royal family your
friend’s house, or what? These kids nowadays, tsk tsk.
ㅇㅇ (4th Year, Hot Department): Our fellow students, we all hate ‘Night Hound’!! That’s
for sure!
ㅇㅇ (4th Year, Cold Department): You’re absolutely right! ^^*
ㅇㅇ (1st Year, Hot Department): Ugh, this comment section smells like old people.
ㅇㅇ (3rd Year, Cold Department): Good article, share it! Always stay happy, hehe.
ㅇㅇ (1st Year, Hot Department): But who wrote this column? Did they really see ‘Night
Hound’?
*****
Vikir was a little surprised when he read the morning newspaper today.
‘I didn’t think that my column would get published.’
He had carefully selected words that would be well-received when he wrote it, and it seemed
to have worked. The views were surprisingly high, and the comments were quite lively.
“Is the fear of the Night Hound spreading widely?”
Lately, in Venetior, parents often told crying children, “If you keep crying, the Night Hound
will come for you!” It seemed like he had firmly established himself as the villain that struck
fear into the Empire.
“I need to be more careful when I go demon hunting in the future.”
If he bumped into the Venetior Knights while wandering outside the academy, it would
become a nuisance.
As Vikir contemplated his future plans, a cold voice reached his ears.
“Vikir.”
Banshee Morg, the professor, spoke with a chilling tone, and the dark circles under his eyes
seemed to follow Vikir closely.
“Have you been lost in thought again today, with your eyes closed? That’s not like you.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“You’re still as bold as ever. I’ll have to see if you have the necessary skills.”
Banshee Morg had always disliked Vikir. To make things difficult for him, he frequently
gave him tricky puzzles that he couldn’t solve or extremely difficult problems that even
graduate students couldn’t answer.
“Due to the massive appearance of giant arachnids, the Imperial Army is struggling on the
western front. Distinguish between small creatures of less than one meter in length and large
creatures of more than ten meters in length, and explain your approach for each.”
“Goblins are causing increasing harm to travelers. Goblins are small and weak monsters, but
they threaten those who do not know how to use mana because they gather in hordes. Discuss
practical measures to prevent goblin attacks on travelers leaving Venetior through the gate.”
“We don’t have much time, so answer quickly. Yes or no. The creatures causing the most
damage to the knights and wizards guarding the Plateau Fortress are not Wyverns, although
that’s not entirely false. What do you think?”
…The problem was that Vikir had never answered any of these questions incorrectly.
“For small creatures with a body length of less than 1 meter, a simple solution is to sprinkle
salt, sugar, or soda on them to inflict lethal damage. As for large creatures, they can be easily
repelled by shooting copper-tipped arrows.”
“Goblins have a sensitive sense of smell and are averse to foul odors. If there are fallen fruits
from the caca trees lining the road, instead of discarding them, it would be beneficial to
gather them and provide travelers leaving Venetior with a bag of them. When encountering
goblins, throwing caca tree fruits at them will cause most of them to flee due to the foul
odor.”
“Yes.”
Vikir answered Banshee Morg’s aggressive questions with composure. The reason for this
was twofold. First, Banshee Morg’s specialized courses always revolved around practical
monster strategies, which had been Vikir’s specialty for decades, making it impossible for
him to make mistakes.
Second, Banshee Morg’s questioning style was unique. Given Vikir’s personality of not
wanting to attract attention, he would have preferred to answer the questions incorrectly as
Morg wanted, but Banshee Morg would deduct attitude points from the entire Cold
Department if any student answered incorrectly, which made it necessary for Vikir to fend off
his attacks.
Vikir thought that it was better to receive extra points for correctly solving problems and
receive less attention from other students, as people tend to remember grievances for a long
time but quickly forget the benefits received through others.
On the other hand.
“…”
Banshee Morg couldn’t express his anger even though all his attack questions had been
answered. Vikir’s answers were the kind that could only be given by someone with decades
of experience on the battlefield, which made it impossible for him to point out any mistakes.
Even the academy’s professors, including himself, had only encountered these practical
aspects as theoretical knowledge at their desks. How could an 18-year-old freshman know
about these matters?
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
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——————
And he’s so knowledgeable about it, too. Moreover, among the answers Vikir just gave, some
included strategies and theories that have never been discovered up to this point. So,
Professor Banshee could only wear a more suspicious expression.
“Oh… It reminds me of the Venompion incident from before.”
A scorpion-like monster that lived in the desert. Who could have known that it had a hidden
second venomous stinger?
In the past, Professor Banshee had sent a sample of the “Venompion” to the Royal Demon
Research Institute to confirm whether Vikir’s claims were true or not, and in the end,
everything was proven to be true, gaining attention from the academic community.
When interview requests flooded in, he waved them off, saying, “I didn’t research this; it was
my student. Hmph!”
Since then, Professor Banshee had been watching Vikir with great interest (or so he claimed).
Ultimately, this time as well, Professor Banshee had no choice but to acknowledge Vikir’s
expertise.
“You are truly extraordinary, quite exceptional.” In theory, you could even teach your
classmates, or rather, your seniors, here…maybe even me.”
“It’s not to that extent.”
At Vikir’s brief response, Professor Banshee’s expression contorted once more.
Finally, he said with a growl, “I hope you’ll consider enrolling to graduate school in the
future. And make sure you come under my guidance….”
For the first time, Vikir felt a sense of foreboding. The graduate school at the academy was
notorious for its intensity. There were even tales of war captives from other countries who
had become slaves, treating graduate students at the academy as pitiful beings. But the first-
year newcomers who were still unaware of this fact stared at Vikir with wide-open eyes, their
curiosity shining brightly.
***
After the class ended, Vikir joined the crowd of students, all preparing for their next class or
heading back to the dormitory. Among them, Banshee Morg, Joint teacher for ecology and
culture of monsters and savages, was blocking Vikir’s path.
“Vikir.”
He called Vikir with a stern voice, slightly tinged with displeasure.
As Vikir turned his head, Banshee approached him with a slightly twisted smile on his face
and asked, “About your column from last time, the one published in the newspaper. Did you
really see Night Hound during your volunteer work?”
“I told you last time, it was as I mentioned. I merely happened to come across them briefly
while walking in the corridor at night.”
“…Is that so? You didn’t recognize their face or voice?”
“No.”
“Alright then, that’s enough.”
Banshee muttered to himself, “These annoying little things keep buzzing around,” as he
wrinkled his brow.
Afterward, he turned to Vikir and said, “If any bothersome external reporters are asking for
interviews, tell me. I will protect the students in the Academy newspaper club.”
“Understood.”
Vikir responded briefly, and Banshee nodded.
“…Oh, wait.”
Just as he was about to turn away, Banshee suddenly seemed to recall something and turned
back.
“On the last day of volunteer work, there’s a tradition for male and female students to gather
and have a drinking party. I know about that, but I don’t have an obligation to turn a blind
eye to it, right?”
“Is that so?”
Banshee made a sharp gesture with his hand, deducting one point from Vikir’s attitude score.
“…Don’t wander around at night from now on.”
Vikir nodded nonchalantly, and Banshee snorted before leaving.
Finally, Vikir’s friends, who had been watching from a distance, approached.
First was Figgy.
“Vikir! Your attitude score just got deducted, why?”
“He said I violated the nighttime restriction rules on the last day of volunteer work.”
“Oh! Are you crazy? Did you tell the truth? Please don’t lie! If you get more demerits here,
you’ll have to go back for volunteer work again! This time, it may only be within the
Academy, but…”
Lately, due to the peculiar state of affairs in the country, the academy’s policy was to refrain
from sending students for off-campus volunteer work. Instead, they might end up doing on-
campus volunteer work during the golden festival period after the midterms.
That’s why Figgy was upset.
And following Figgy, Tudor and Sancho were there.
“Hey, Vikir! What did Banshee say?”
“He gave me a lecture.”
They were fellow members of the newspaper club and were already aware that Vikir was the
author of the column.
Tudor broke the silence. “Hey, Vikir. Did you really see Night Hound back then?”
“Yes.”
“Damn, man! Why didn’t you say so?! That’s why you seemed so serious when you came
back that day.”
Tudor approached Vikir with a serious expression, patting his shoulder. “Meeting that vicious
villain must have been terrifying. I thought you were lost in thought because of that urinating
incident.”
“Should you face something like that again, talk to us about your worries,” Sancho added,
standing by Vikir’s side and nodding.
Meanwhile, their friends asked Vikir about the appearance and terror of Night Hound. He
responded casually, “Night Hound is tall and well-built, seemed quite old. Wore a mask on
their face, and covered their whole body with a black cloak. The voice felt hoarse and distant;
it was hard to hear from afar.”
Upon hearing this, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy reacted with a shiver, making comments about
how terrifying the experience must have been. They praised Vikir’s courage, mentioning that
Night Hound was likely at least a mid-tier Graduator and wondered if the night hound could
outmatch their professors.
The group of freshmen, once full of themselves, planning to capture Night Hound, now
appeared fluffy and harmless.
Vikir found their reaction somewhat adorable.
Just then, another fluffy puppy stood in Vikir’s way. This time, it was a handsome young
man with dark hair and a cold expression beneath his fluffy appearance, with a small badge
shaped like a snake on his chest.
As Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy saw his face, their expressions slightly stiffened.
“…Granola.”
Granola De Reviadon.
From one of the seven noble families representing the Empire, the venomous Reviadon
(Leviathon in manhwa) family.
He was one of the top students in the freshman class, as well as its arrogant representative –
the arrival of the first-year cohort’s leading figure.
——————
Chapter 174 The Anti-Columnist (Part 3)
“Who is he? Is this idiot also in the Cold Department?” Figgy whispered to Vikir.
It was Granola De Reviadon, a tall and somewhat aloof-looking male student from the Hot
Department. He was from the venomous Reviadon family, one of the seven great clans, and
he also happened to be a top-ranking member of the 1st year class in the hot Department.
He glanced at Tudor with a mocking smile. “What’s with all the trembling and quivering?
You guys are practically vibrating with fear.”
“What’s wrong with this lunatic?” Tudor interrupted Granola’s taunting, as if he were used to
it.
But Granola didn’t stop. “Hahaha, I overheard your discussion earlier about the ‘Night
Hound.’ You guys are so afraid that you can practically feel the vibrations. If you’re so
scared, can you really call yourselves students of the prestigious Colosseo Academy? You’re
all quite pathetic.”
“Then aren’t you afraid? He’s the one who actually witnessed the Night Hound,” Tudor said,
pointing to Vikir.
Granola raised a smirking smile. “Is his name Bhikir? He witnessed Night Hound himself?”
“No, his name is Vikir.”
“Hmm, even bothering to remember the name of a commoner? Are you showing off your
memory skills?”
Granola gave Vikir a cursory look, mixed with a bit of interest and disdain. Then he
continued, “Anyway, don’t be so afraid of the Night Hound, you feeble and pitiful
underclassmen. Weak people are usually the ones who fear the most, but I don’t believe that
cowards hiding behind masks and lurking around would reach such a high level. And…”
As Granola finished speaking, he waved his hand to signal his comrades behind him.
At that moment…
Swoosh!
A light black mist began to envelop Granola’s body. It was a paralyzing toxin, dispersing like
mist, mixed with mana.
Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy panicked and stepped back in response to the poisonous mist that
Granola had released within the school.
“Granola, you insane moron! Is this the place for you to show off your skills?
“This is just for fun. I’m simply demonstrating my strong abilities.”
In reality, the poison Granola released and its quantity weren’t particularly dangerous. It was
merely a paralyzing toxin that would cause numbness and stiffness for a few minutes.
However, due to Granola’s reputation as a member of the venomous Reviadon family, people
reacted in fear and withdrew.
But there was one exception: Vikir.
Initially, Vikir also took a step back. But then…
“Hmm?”
At first, Vikir also stepped back, but soon he hesitated and stopped moving away.
He looked like he was about to continue retreating, but then something happened.
[Fwoosh!]
There was an entity that sucked in the black mist spewed by Granola. It was a creature with
the appearance of a young spider attached to Vikir’s left wrist, like a wristwatch.
The creature saw the toxic mist that Granola had released and immediately began inhaling it.
The creature devoured the paralyzing toxin, leaving no trace. Then, it slightly shivered and
exhaled, as if showing off.
Vikir couldn’t help but be thankful for this opportunity to help feed this little spider.
“His name is Granola, right? He’s from the Reviadon family, so he probably has a lot of
toxins.”
Vikir began to observe Granola carefully.
Meanwhile, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy were baffled by what had just happened.
“What? What happened to the poison?”
“It disappeared suddenly?”
“Whoa, I was really surprised. Was it fake?”
Even Granola himself seemed somewhat puzzled and looked around.
“Hey, where did my poison go just now?”
“Didn’t you just release it and let it go? Are you stupid?”
Tudor retorted, and Granola quickly regained his composure.
Granola argued, “I simply demonstrated my exceptional ability to these weaklings from the
Cold Department who have only mediocre skills and brains.”
At that moment, Granola’s elite comrades from the Hot Department behind him burst into
laughter.
“They should refrain from humiliating our academy with their mediocre skills. Well, this will
be proven in the upcoming midterm practical exams.”
“The midterm practical exams are just a test that freshmen have to face for the first time. It
doesn’t mean much, but it provides valuable experience.”
“Be quiet. Midterm exams are a matter of life and death for me. I’ll be totally serious. Only
then can I find satisfaction in tearing apart mediocre talents like these trash.”
Then, Tudor, the leader of the group, stepped forward.
“Don’t insult my friends, Granola.”
Granola looked over Vikir and Figgy.
“Hahaha. By looking at the friends you keep, I can easily guess your level. You’re pathetic.”
The average skill level of the current academy freshmen ranged from Low-Tier Expert to
Mid-Tier, while the senior class’s average was High-Tier Expert. Even though Tudor was
two years younger, he was already a High-Tier Expert, while Sancho, was a Mid-Tier Expert,
and Figgy, was a low-tier expert.
At this point, Sinclaire approached, calling for Vikir.
“Hey, what are you doing over there?”
——————
HEL SCANS
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Sinclaire, despite being a commoner, held the top position in the Hot Department. She smiled
at Vikir and asked, “Did you finish reading the book you borrowed from the library last
time?”
“Are you raising spiders or something?”
“Yes, I read books related to it. Want to discuss it later?” Vikir said politely.
“Okay, big brother”
“I’ve been studying this for future practical monster-hunting classes.”
“No, that’s not it.” Sinclaire said twirling her hair…
“P-Please, teach me. I need to do better on the written exam.”
Sinclaire’s eyes displayed sincere enthusiasm and curiosity as she looked at Vikir.
Seeing this, Granola’s expression twisted with complexity.
“Ugh, these commoners have no choice but to choose the ‘Union’ as a means of survival.”
They stick together like pitiful weeds with their meager roots.”
He paused as he called Sinclaire.
“Hey, Sin-Sin-Sin… Sinclaire! There’s no need to learn from Cold Department trash, right?
Come here. If it’s the written test, I’d rather teach you! You’re the leader of the Hot
Department!”
“Associating with them would make the Hot Department appear less prestigious, which is
why I’m trying to maintain our image…!”
Sinclaire, however, blinked her large eyes and tilted her head.
“Who are you?”
“What? What do you mean? Don’t you know me? You don’t know Gr-Gra-Granola De
Reviadon! I’m the third son of the Reviadon family, the current vice leader of the hot
department, and the future student council president! How could you not know me, a high-
class noble with outstanding achievements? You should remember the name, and not Vikir’s
or Bhekir’s or Vecker’s! If you’re just pretending not to remember my name for fear of losing
your position, I’d tell you to stop futilely resisting your coming fate!”
Sinclaire, in a very embarrassed manner, hesitated and said, “I don’t… I don’t know you.”
“…”
“Sorry! I’ll make sure to remember from now on, Mr. Croaky.”
Upon hearing that, Granola seemed once again deeply shocked.
“…Unbelievable. How could she not know me?”
“Seriously, Granola. That girl is intentionally messing with your head.”
“Yeah, there’s no way she wouldn’t know you. This is why they’re commoners… ”
As his comrades consoled him, Granola’s two shoulders slumped in particular.
***
On the other hand, after leaving the corridor, Vikir and his friends arrived near the central
staircase.
“See you later, big brother.”
Sinclaire waved to Vikir and headed toward the library. Once the men were alone, Tudor
finally expressed his irritation.
“Ugh, that arrogant Granola. I hope he chokes during the midterm exams.”
“True. It’s a shame we don’t have 1vs1 duels during mid terms.”
Sancho, who usually avoided joining in when others criticized others, agreed with them this
time.
Then, Figgy poked Vikir in the side.
“Vikir, what just happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sinclaire.”
“What about her?”
“Sinclaire.”
“What?”
Puzzled by Vikir’s response, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy exchanged looks.
“Did something happen between the two of you?”
“Cause normally she’s not interested in anyone, but makes an exception for you?”
“Yeah, it felt like she was throwing hints your way with those glances.”
However, when they voiced their suspicions, Vikir firmly denied it.
“There’s nothing like that.”
Upon hearing Vikir’s denial, his friends became somewhat downcast.
“Is there something you’re not telling us? You know, rumors about you two being an item or
something?”
Vikir’s eyebrows moved slightly in confusion.
“Why would you think that?”
Questioned by Vikir in a serious tone, Tudor casually replied, “Nah, it’s just that on the way
back to the dorms, you were the only one who fell behind. So, you’re the only one without an
alibi.”
“…”
“Also, when the security asked for statements, we all said we went back to our rooms and
went to sleep, but weren’t you in the laundry room? Washing your pants or something.
Hahaha.”
“…”
“Oops, sorry. It was just a joke, and I didn’t expect you to take it that seriously. I didn’t know
you’d still be bothered by it. I’m sorry.”
Tudor laughed but immediately regretted it, and Vikir responded with a dry chuckle.
After that, Tudor poked Vikir’s side.
“Vikir, are you perhaps the Night Hound?”
“…”
Vikir raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“Why would you think that?”
When Vikir asked in a serious tone.
“Vikir, you’re too serious! That’s even scarier because you don’t show any emotion!”
“Really, Tudor, it was a bad joke. Vikir probably still thinks about that ‘Pee’ night with regret
and shame.”
Tudor was reprimanded by Sancho and Figgy, and he bowed his head in apology. Sometimes
it’s challenging for a member of the prestigious Donquixote family to maintain their pristine
image.
Vikir thought about the time before his regression when Tudor was known for his
righteousness, integrity, and childlike innocence and smiled dryly, allowing them to continue
with their teasing. But he wanted to make one thing clear.
“I’m not the Night Hound. He’s a monster at the Graduator level, and I’m just a struggling
low-tier Expert.”
“You’re right; there’s no way Vikir could be such a villain.”
“Yeah! Vikir, let’s work on improving our skills and catch those villains ourselves!”
Vikir nodded in agreement with their words. He uttered, “Yeah, a wicked villain like the
Night Hound will get what’s coming to him someday,” with determination. It was a reminder
to himself.
Just then, a loud and noticeable cough echoed from the top of the stairs. Everyone looked up
in surprise. There, a familiar face was looking down at them.
Dolores, the Student Council President of Colosseo Academy, Head of the academy
newspaper club, and the saintess of Quovadis.
Dolores was standing there, peering at them curiously.
——————
Chapter 175 Anti-Columnist (4)
Dolores. She read the article in the newspaper and thought about Vikir once again. It was an
article that went too far, condemning Night Hound as crossing the line. It was a critical and
inflammatory piece, and she wasn’t pleased to read it.
What made her even more uncomfortable was seeing Vikir, who she felt indebted to, once
again berating Night Hound. Dolores was wounded deeply, more so than when she received
insults herself.
‘Do you even know what you’re talking about when you insult him?’ Dolores thought. She
understood that common people might insult a hero, but that didn’t mean she blamed them.
Just like the great prophet Rune, who was misunderstood and condemned by the people long
ago, Night Hound accepted being a target of misunderstanding and hatred, even though he
never intended it.
‘True heroes don’t force people to shed blood,’ Dolores remembered the words of the great
prophet.
She bit her lips and clenched her fists. Confronting her juniors and proclaiming Night
Hound’s innocence was possible, but it wouldn’t serve her purpose.
‘It’s okay. Even if the world doesn’t understand Night Hound, at least I understand his
sacrifice,’ Dolores thought.
A genius and a prophet whom the world couldn’t comprehend. Dolores felt an almost sacred
duty to be the one person who truly understood him.
While the rest of the world hated, feared, and despised Night Hound. Dolores was filled with
affection, admiration, longing, and a complex, heartbreaking emotion that couldn’t be
precisely defined.
She was carrying a unique and uncharted feeling, and as the days went by, it grew even more
profound. Now, Dolores could hardly get any sleep at night, all because of this unfamiliar set
of emotions she was experiencing.
She had never felt anything like this before, and every day was an unfamiliar journey of new
feelings.
Dolores released her hand from the railing and turned away. She had come to meet Vikir, but
now she was so angry that she couldn’t bring herself to speak with him. She felt that she had
a reason to be angry, and she wasn’t entirely wrong.
It wasn’t the right time to talk, so she had no choice but to turn her back on Vikir.
.
***
Back in the dorm room, Dolores took a shower and then sat down at her desk.
“But I still need to talk to Vikir about it.”
Vikir was the only student at the academy who had directly witnessed Night Hound. So there
was a definite need to find out what he had seen that day.
And there was one more thing.
“…I need to apologize for the urinating incident.”
Vikir was, to Dolores, a benefactor almost like a guardian angel. He had come to her aid
when she was inebriated and made a mistake. Vikir had turned around the slanderous
nickname of “The Urinator” for her, despite the embarrassing circumstances.
In a situation where all the eyes of both men and women were on her, it would have been
incredibly challenging for the person who urinated to admit that it was her. But Vikir had
done it.
Dolores appreciated his selfless act of kindness. Even after the incident, Vikir had never
asked for anything in return or tried to make her feel obligated.
‘…As long as he doesn’t insult Night Hound, he’s a very good junior.’
Dolores was experiencing conflicting emotions towards Vikir.
When he sang a military song at the freshman talent show and made the old professors cry, I
thought he was an oddball, but…… after that, his image gradually deteriorated due to his
frequent tardiness and demerits
[Vikir-Life Attitude Score (Demerit Factor)]
-1 point for using the emergency exit on the 3rd floor of the dormitory building
-1 point for entering the 4th-grade private area of the performance hall
-1 point for using the central staircase on the 1st floor of the blind reading lab building
-1 point for entering the control area of the experimental monster breeding facility
-1 point for using the central staircase on the 6th floor of the Faculty Research Center
-1 point for using the central staircase on the 3rd floor of the Hot lab.
-1 point for entering the fitness center after hours
-1 point for entering the restricted area next to the cafeteria food warehouse.
.
.
.
——————
HEL SCANS
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Vikir’s demerit record was staggering, even when reviewed once again. How could someone
achieve these figures just after entering the school? It was hard to imagine for someone who
had lived an orderly and virtuous life like Dolores.
‘In particular, the penalty for entering the habitat of experimental monsters was three
points…’
Didn’t they say it was polite to turn your arms inward? As a member of the same club, she
cut his punishment down to just one point, and that, too, was thanks to Dolores’ leniency.
But his record continued with multiple demerits. As a result, Vikir’s image was completely
transformed into that of a delinquent student.
“…However.”
“…Even if I’m not just unfairly labeling him as a delinquent, he did a great job with
volunteer work.”
During volunteer work at the orphanage, Vikir had silently and diligently performed various
tasks in the unseen corners: cleaning restrooms, dining halls, pipes, laundry rooms,
playrooms, playgrounds, and sports fields, among others.
Tiring and grueling tasks, but none of the other academy students, who were not used to such
work, could even complete a single person’s workload.
With all the eyes on him, he never seemed to seek recognition or approval for his work. His
strange behavior was admirable, and Dolores found it impressive.
Furthermore, at the last minute, Vikir had gone so far as to plunge into a sewer to retrieve the
children’s ball. Even after being drenched in filth, he generously returned the ball to the kids.
His actions resembled a martyr’s sacrifice.
How many people could willingly jump into a sewer for the sake of others? Dolores thought.
And Vikir’s actions were not limited to just that one instance.
“I was drunk and made a mistake.”
Vikir’s words at the time referred to himself, but they had been spoken on Dolores’ behalf. At
that moment, she remembered feeling the same emotions.
That episode was one where Vikir had defended her, after all. When she tried to confess that
she was the one who had urinated, everyone laughed it off, as it would be improbable for
anyone to admit such a thing. Instead, they praised her as if she were willing to sacrifice
herself on Vikir’s behalf.
From then on, Vikir’s image at the school had only worsened, while Dolores’ image
improved.
“Haah.”
Dolores let out a deep sigh.
Dolores realized she needed to apologize and express her gratitude to Vikir for his actions at
the orphanage and for taking the urination incident on her behalf. However, she couldn’t help
but get upset whenever Vikir insulted Night Hound, given that Night Hound was the most
noble and dignified person she had ever known.
“It’s not like I can defend Night Hound in front of people who don’t know anything. What
should I do about this?”
Dolores scratched her forehead as she contemplated the issue.
After a while, she came to a decision. She needed to offer her apologies and gratitude to
Vikir, regardless of the situation with Night Hound. Additionally, she needed to ask Vikir for
information related to Night Hound.
“Right. Let’s distinguish between personal and official matters. I should apologize where
apologies are due and express gratitude when it’s appropriate.”
Dolores left her dormitory to find Vikir.
“Apologizing and showing gratitude can’t be done empty-handed. Besides, I need to gather
information about Night Hound. Vikir… what does he need?”
Dolores was in a somewhat awkward situation, having never owed anyone in her life.
Just then, she encountered a familiar face: a chubby figure with a cute face. It was Figgy,
Vikir’s roommate, who was always with him.
“Hi, Figgy. Do you happen to know where Vikir is right now?”
“Huh? Oh, hi, President! I think Vikir is probably practicing for the practical evaluations! But
may I ask what’s going on?”
“Just… I thought I’d take care of our club juniors before the exam. You should take this,
too.”
Dolores handed her a summary of key points that she had written during her first year.
Figgy accepted it gratefully, her face beaming with appreciation.
“I’ll watch it with Vikir! Thank you so much!”
“Well, you’re welcome. I need to make sure that Vikir gets a copy as well. I made plenty of
copies.”
“Is that so? Then if you go through the forest and cross the hill, you’ll find the area where
Vikir is practicing!”
Dolores realized that it was the area where archery lessons were conducted.
“Vikir must be using a bow.”
Nodding to herself, Dolores headed towards the Field, thinking about what to say when she
met Vikir.
——————
Chapter 176 : Hundred Shots, Ninety-Nine Hits (1)
The archery practice field echoed with the sound of arrows hitting the distant targets.
Pew! Pew! Pew!
Students from the Colosseo Academy who used bows frequented this location. Primarily,
archery students from the Cold Department practiced here, but long-range mage students
from the Hot Department would drop by on occasion. Most regular students only practiced
archery during their general courses, so they didn’t frequent this location.
However, among the few students who did visit this place, the one who displayed the best
archery skills was none other than Bianca.
As the top student of the Cold Department, she hailed from the legendary Usher House,
renowned for their “Divine Bow.” skills. As a result, she was exceptionally skilled with a
bow.
Pew!
Bianca’s arrow hit the target, located a hundred meters away, with pinpoint precision,
requiring no Aura assistance.
The white circle within the black circle, within the blue circle, within the red circle, within
the yellow circle. All of Bianca’s arrows were densely packed within the smallest yellow
circle.
“Wow, did you see that? Another perfect ten.”
“Unbelievable, she’s on another level.”
“With this level of skill, she’s guaranteed to score a perfect grade on the mid-term practical
exams.”
“She’s like a goddess of hunting.”
The students watching her marveled at her incredible archery, akin to divine art.
However, Bianca herself was not satisfied, despite all her arrows being grouped in the
smallest yellow circle.
“Something doesn’t feel right.”
For some reason, her perfectionism about the tiny red circle at the very center had intensified
today.
If it had been any other day, she would have been relatively content after shooting ten arrows,
getting eight of them as 10-pointers and two as 9-pointers, resulting in a score of 98 out of a
possible 100.
But today…
“Ugh, it’s not good enough.”
Her perfectionist tendencies were exacerbated, and she couldn’t help but obsess over it, even
though she had Auraged to group all her arrows inside the smallest yellow circle. Today, the
sound of her dissatisfaction was even more pronounced.
Pew!
Pew! Pew! Pew!
Yet, her dissatisfaction wasn’t solely due to that, thudding sound from an adjacent lane kept
sounding. An overwhelming number of arrows were fired one after the other.
Before the sound could fade, another arrow hit just beside the previous one. This pattern
repeated itself ten times in a row, and all ten arrows landed within the yellow circle.
“Ugh, a ten-pointer.”
Bianca tied her bowstring to the side and grumbled.
Then, she shifted her gaze to the neighboring lane, where a figure stood.
This person had long, disheveled bangs that covered nearly half of their face, pale skin, and
modest clothing. He was slightly shorter than the average 18-year-old boy, with a lean build.
This person was none other than Vikir, also from the Cold Department, specifically from
Class B.
Vikir, who was always expressionless, was standing in the adjacent lane with a practice bow
and arrows. He’d drawn an arrow with the yellow circle a hundred meters away as the target.
It was 1.3 meters above the ground and looked like a needle hole.
Twang!
Vikir let go of the string.
Pfft!
True to form, a single arrow hit the maximum score of 10 points.
Other students who were practicing archery nearby stopped what they were doing and
gathered around, gazing in awe at Vikir’s archery skills.
******
“Wow, he’s really good.”
“Can you see it from there?”
“I just see a red dot….”
“Is that Vikir? The one who topped the written exams.”
“Oh, that’s the handsome one? I couldn’t tell because of the bangs.”
“So, he’s an archer. No wonder he’s got less Aura.”
“Archers don’t need as much Aura, generally.”
Meanwhile, Bianca, who was shooting in the adjacent lane, was in an unusual situation.
As the top student of the Cold Department and a protege of the Usher House, she was already
well-known throughout the academy for her archery skills. As such, people generally
watched her when she stood at the lanes, even though she disliked being watched by others,
feeling like a clown in a circus.
——————
HEL SCANS
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But now, what was different?
The spectators’ attention was completely drawn to Vikir in the adjacent lane, rather than her.
She wasn’t disappointed about not receiving attention, but the fact that the public had
implicitly judged Vikir’s skills as superior to hers was discomforting.
Bianca shifted her gaze to Vikir, observing his archery technique secretly.
The conclusion: It was a mess.
Vikir’s posture didn’t meet any standards in archery, from nocking, grip, hooking, setup,
drawing, anchoring, full draw, release, and follow-through. However, once Vikir released the
arrow…
Twang!
An arrow was unfailingly pinned at a perfect 10-pointer.
‘How on earth does he shoot? I can’t even understand it when I see it.’
Vikir’s posture appeared too relaxed, giving off the impression that there was no specific
format or structure to his shooting. He seemed like a savage from the forest, carelessly firing
his bow.
“If I shot like that, my arrows would usually go blind, but how is he hitting the bull’s eye?”
Bianca squinted, gazing at Vikir. His posture appeared exceedingly comfortable, making it
seem as if there was no framework or format for him to follow.
Bianca wrinkled her forehead, observing Vikir. She, too, released her bowstring…
Pfft!
As expected, her arrow hit the 10-point mark. Just like Vikir, she was consistently nailing
each arrow into the center of the target.
However, there was one difference between her and Vikir.
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!
Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff!
The speed at which they were shooting was significantly different.
While Bianca carefully shot one arrow at a time, Vikir was shooting five or six arrows in
rapid succession. Even though the points they were scoring were similar, there was a
tremendous disparity in the rate at which they were consuming arrows.
‘Gosh! Is speed all he cares about?’
Bianca bit her lip.
But contrary to her assertion, Vikir wasn’t just about speed.
He combined rapid shooting with exceptional accuracy, achieving a continuous march of 10-
point shots.
On the other hand, due to a lapse in concentration in the early part of the session, Bianca
found herself two points behind Vikir with two shots scoring 9 points each.
“Can’t afford to make a single mistake from now on!” she thought.
Tiny differences in the early stage often lead to significant gaps in the later rounds. So,
Bianca focused harder than ever before. She couldn’t afford to let this chance slip away.
In time, she drew the last arrow from her quiver and released it, her heart pounding with
anticipation.
Thwack!
But the result was disappointing. Due to a bead of sweat making her thumb slip, Bianca’s
arrow landed in the 9-point zone.
“Darn it!” Bianca wanted to throw her bow and stomp away in frustration, but she couldn’t
afford to show weakness with so many eyes on her. She needed to stay composed.
‘I can’t tarnish the honor of the Cold Department!’ She thought.
As the daughter of a renowned archery lineage, she couldn’t allow herself to be outdone by
an unknown commoner. Being defeated in archery would invite mockery from all over the
world.
Bianca realized that Vikir had paused his archery practice in the neighboring lane. All eyes
were now focused on the tip of her arrow, where a miracle was about to happen.
In a moment…
Whoosh!
The arrow pierced through several layers of compressed air.
Thwack!
It hit dead center on the 10-point bullseye.
It also cleaved through an arrow that had already been embedded in the bullseye, cutting it in
half.
“That’s it!” Bianca exclaimed triumphantly.
She had achieved 10-point shots 141 times and 9-point shots three times. Plus, the nail-sized
X10 bullseye had two of her arrows, one of which was cut in half and the second one stuck
through it.
Bianca had shot a total of 144 arrows and scored 1437 points out of a maximum of 1440.
Given her usual scores, which fluctuated around 1433-1435 points, today’s performance was
notably good.
Meanwhile, the spectators who had been watching were in awe.
“She’s incredible. Truly worthy of being the top student of Cold Department”
“She keeps hitting the center, shot after shot.”
“…Hey! But Vikir, he’s amazing too, right?”
All eyes were once again directed toward the lane beside Bianca’s, where something
extraordinary was happening. Even Bianca, who had finished her own round, turned her head
to see what was going on.
“Why isn’t he shooting?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to focus.”
“Why would he go to such lengths at the very end?”
“Isn’t hitting 10 points good enough? There are no higher scores than that.”
“Yeah, he could just keep hitting the 10-point bullseye like he did before.”
“Wait, if he gets a 10 now, he’d have a perfect score of 1440 out of 1440, right? Incredible,
I’ve never seen this before!”
“Wasn’t the official highest score at the academy 1439, from about 30 years ago when the
current head of the Usher House was a student here, and he also did it without using aura?”
“That’s right. It’s unofficial but still so cool.”
“Wow, it’s a shame it’s not an official record. This could be an unprecedented moment in
history, a new unofficial record.”
The students watching couldn’t hide their excitement, discussing the potential history being
made.
In this tense atmosphere, Vikir continued to hold his bowstring taut, as if in deep
concentration. His calmness was in stark contrast to his previously rapid and relentless
archery.
Moments later…
Thwack!
The arrow was released from Vikir’s bow and struck the target.
“Wow!” Everyone watching had their eyes wide open in disbelief.
——————
Chapter 177: Hundred Shots, Ninety-Nine Hits (2)
Amidst the tense atmosphere and with everyone’s attention focused, Vikir released his arrow.
Thwack!
The arrow soared in a near-straight trajectory before striking the target.
…Thunk!
However, the sound it made when it hit was a bit strange. It was clearly a 6-point shot.
“…6 points?!” Bianca blurted out in surprise. Her face turned bright red when she realized
that she had been unconsciously talking about Vikir the whole time. Luckily, the others didn’t
notice her reaction amidst their own discussions.
“Wait, what’s happening? Did he miss purposely?”
“Well… 6 points is still a score…”
“Ah, what a waste! It was supposed to be a record-breaking moment.”
Everyone was murmuring about the outcome. Those who didn’t understand archery had
various theories, and as quickly as they had gathered, they dispersed.
However…
Bianca patiently waited for all the onlookers to disappear, and when the coast was clear, she
walked over to the far end of the empty archery range. The targets were covered with arrows,
but they would be collected later by the academy staff during the nightly closure.
Bianca examined Vikir’s target and raised an eyebrow. ‘That guy, with such limited mana,
how did he even get into the academy?’
Well, he certainly wasn’t just a bookworm. Vikir’s proficiency with archery was clear. But
Bianca didn’t feel any aristocratic jealousy or resentment toward him. Instead, she was driven
by a sense of competition and a desire for victory.
‘Anyway, he was in great shape. I saw the muscles when he took off his clothes after
training,’ Bianca thought. ‘It’s evident that he went through rigorous training.’
Archery was a discipline where even with limited mana, you could contribute significantly to
the team with proper skill and precise distribution of what mana you had. Vikir, although he
had limited mana, was a valuable asset to his team.
“Well, I don’t care about guys, but… he’s undoubtedly a bit peculiar,” Bianca muttered,
examining the arrows sticking out of Vikir’s target.
In the center of Vikir’s target, there was a thick, cylindrical shape formed by many arrows
closely clustered together. They looked like a pillar because all of them were packed tightly
into one spot, making them stand out.
All of them hit within the 10-point zone, though some were shattered into multiple pieces
because of arrows that had been shot into them from behind.
However, Bianca wasn’t interested in those.
She was focused on a single stray arrow, the only one that didn’t hit the target in the last shot,
and ended up a few millimeters away, hitting the blue line at the edge of the target.
The 6-point shot that had cost Vikir four points, resulting in him losing by just one point.
Vikir might not care about it, but Bianca was incredibly curious.
‘Why did he shoot a 6-pointer at the end?’ Bianca pondered. It was suspicious, considering
that his focus and stamina appeared fine. His previous scores had been excellent.
‘While it’s true that archery is a sport where concentration at a single moment can make or
break a shot… this feels a bit extreme for the last shot.’
However, there was no other explanation.
Vikir’s drop in performance at the end of the competition was inexplicable, as his previous
scores had been excellent.
“Ugh, it ended so anticlimactically at the last moment. He was unexpectedly a decent
opponent.”
Bianca turned away with a disappointed sigh. However, just before she turned away, her keen
eyes caught something.
“Hmm?”
Bianca hesitated as her gaze was drawn to Vikir’s target. Her eyes widened as she saw
something on the 6-point arrow.
On the tip of the arrow that had penetrated the target was a tiny, minuscule insect. It looked
like a very small bug, perhaps a mosquito.
‘…No way. This can’t be.’
Bianca’s throat tightened.
Her gaze alternated between the tightly packed cluster of arrows that had formed a thick
pillar in the 10-point area of the target and the one stray arrow that had landed just a few
millimeters away on the blue line.
The one arrow, the 6-pointer, and the tiny insect that protruded from the hole it had made.
‘Why would there be a dead mosquito at that spot? I-Is it just a coincidence?’
As soon as Vikir had shot all of his arrows, he quickly removed his archery gear. The
rigorous training and the continuous use of his arm muscles had left him feeling sore.
‘Using only physical training without mana is truly something.’
He had gone through extensive archery training when he was in the Ballak tribe. Even after
he left their territory, he continued his relentless practice.
‘I shouldn’t let my archery skills wither away. Even if I end up somewhere far from here.’
Despite Vikir being a Royal hound of Baskerville, he was fundamentally also a member of
the Ballak hunting tribe. His bond with the jungle and their hunting prowess was deeply
ingrained in his identity.
‘Ah, I wonder how everyone is doing,’ Vikir thought, recalling the nights he had spent with
the people he considered his close friends.
He thought of Aquilla, Chieftain of the Ballak tribe, Ahun, who was always so cantankerous,
his cute little sister, Ahul, and Bakira the wolf, who had now become a father.
“I hope they’re doing well…”
And there was one more person he thought of.
As he adjusted his necklace, he remembered the day it had been made. It was fashioned from
the hide of an Oxbear, the first creature he had hunted alongside that mysterious girl.
Aiyen.
“Ah, I will… see you again.”
Aiyen was still not confident with the Empire’s official language, but it was enough to hold a
basic conversation. That day, she had bickered with him and ended up kissing him to make
amends.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
Vikir affectionately touched the sturdy necklace that she had made, a token from their
journey together.
‘And now, this has gotten annoying.’
Vikir had a very keen sense of hearing, and he immediately recognized the sound of someone
approaching. It was Dolores.
‘Great…’
Dolores was not one of Vikir’s favorites, and their interactions were usually filled with him
getting scolded.
This was far from an ideal situation because there was nowhere to hide in this narrow,
straight path surrounded by tall fir trees. He could either confront Dolores or turn and leave,
but he decided on the latter.
However, just before he could turn, he realized he had another option.
[Mask of Many Faces ‘Picaresque’] / Mask
-Tribal Grudge +0
-Human Heart in a Beast’s Form -Off
A black leather mask that looked like a dog’s head.
Vikir put that mask on his face.
And in an instant…
Tss, tss, tss…
Vikir transformed into a black puppy, a small, cute one that was appropriate for his age. He
pushed his discarded clothes into the bushes and sat quietly on the ground, waiting for
Dolores to pass by on the mountain path.
After a while, Dolores appeared in the distance, walking briskly and with a sense of purpose.
‘Is she going to the archery range? There’s hardly anyone there,’ Vikir thought.
He recalled that there were very few people still at the archery range, and none of them
seemed to be the ones Dolores would be looking for. The only person who could be there was
probably Bianca.
‘That’s right. She must be going to meet Bianca. I should get going,’ Vikir thought.
Without even realizing it, he found himself sticking his tongue out.
Right at that moment, Dolores stopped in her tracks.
She peered down at the spot where Vikir was lying.
“Haiii~ Cutie~~, who are you?” she asked in a sweet tone.
Vikir was slightly taken aback by Dolores’s friendly greeting. Was it because of this? Vikir,
who was usually quick to react, didn’t anticipate her unexpected approach.
“Wow, look at this soft fur! Ooh, so shoo adorable~”
Dolores gently stroked Vikir’s head with her hand, moving down to scratch his cheeks and
chin. She then used her other hand to rub Vikir’s back and buttocks.
“Wow, you’re… incredibly cute. I’ve never seen such a cute one before. What’s your name?
Where did you come from? Do you want to live with me?”
Vikir didn’t have a chance to react before Dolores extended her hands, slipped them under his
armpits, and lifted him up.
“Up we go~ Oops? You’re not a girl, huh; you’re a little boy~?”
[TL/N: LMFAOOOO]
For a moment, Vikir felt an unparalleled sense of shame that he had never experienced, even
during the days of the Apocalypse.
Dolores had a soft and kind appearance that matched her friendly exterior. It seemed that her
role as a devoted dog lover was genuine. She donated part of her limited income to an animal
shelter and volunteered there every other month.
And it was at that moment that a chilling statement came out of Dolores’s mouth.
“By the way, if you want to live with me, your big sister, you’ll need to be neutered…”
Vikir realized he had no reason to listen to such a horrific suggestion. He quickly made his
escape.
Hurry up!
The little black furball escaped from Dolores’s embrace like an arrow. His slightly protruding
pink tongue was quite cheeky.
“Oops! Hey, don’t run away. Come live with me! I’ll buy you a pork cutlet! Come here,
Choco!”
Dolores called him Choco and looked disappointed, even though she had already given him a
name. But Vikir didn’t spare even a single glance behind him.
——————
Chapter 178 Hundred Shots, Ninety-Nine Hits (3)
There were numerous cutting-edge training devices inside the Academy’s indoor training
facility. These included various pieces of exercise equipment, rooms that generated
holograms of virtual dungeons and monsters, rooms for measuring the body’s magical power,
and rooms for quantifying damage inflicted.
The “Gravity Chamber,” on the other hand, stood out. You could freely adjust the applied
gravity in this room, and the duration you held up at a certain multiple was recorded.
Of course, too much strain would cause the gravity within the chamber to vanish and the
records to be reset.
And right now…
Swish!
The door of the first-year-exclusive Gravity Chamber opened, and a young man emerged,
drenched in sweat.
A well-trained, muscular, black-haired youth. He was Granola Reviadon, the third son of the
Reviadon Clan.
“Huff. Using 7 times gravity without Aura is challenging, indeed. It’s like carrying the
weight of destiny from birth, a burden only the noble can endure…”
Granola reveled in the respectful and envious gazes around him.
Ordinary students found it challenging to bear even six times gravity for an extended period.
Surviving 30 minutes under 7 times gravity was undoubtedly an impressive feat.
Granola felt a bit queasy and had experienced disorientation under such gravity, and he even
threw up.
But the reverence and envy in the eyes of those around him appeared slightly twisted.
“Is it not me?”
Granola questioned as the adoring and envious glances seemed somewhat off.
He turned his attention to where everyone was looking.
There, the display board of another gravity chamber adjacent to his chamber caught his
attention.
F-2 Gravity Chamber
[Gravity Coefficient: 8 times Normal]
[Current Usage Time: 59 minutes 12 seconds]
[Use of Aura: None]
A staggering 8 times gravity.
What was even more astonishing was that the usage time had nearly reached 1 hour.
And even at this moment, the records were continuously being updated.
“This can’t be true!”
Granola’s mouth hung agape.
He was disoriented and vomited for 30 minutes under 7 times gravity. Who could withstand
an incredible 8 times gravity for an hour?
“When the user’s condition becomes too serious, the gravity disappears by itself, and the
record resets itself. This means… this person is genuinely enduring this gravity?”
A student who can withstand 8 times gravity without using Aura is not only uncommon
among first-year students, but also among second, third year students.
Even lasting for more than an hour…
“Wait!”
Swish!
The gravity chamber came to a halt.
As it reached precisely one hour, the door opened, and thick vapor emerged from the
chamber.
Granola pried the chamber’s door open with sweaty palms.
The person inside the chamber was utterly different from what he had expected.
It was Vikir.
The common-looking boy who always wore a neutral expression.
The look of bewilderment on Granola’s face contorted.
“Wait, how did this frail guy stand up to 8 times gravity?” Is this a technical error… Huh?”
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
However, Granola couldn’t finish his sentence.
As the residual moisture dissipated, Vikir’s lower face and body began to be visible. Vikir’s
physique, always concealed by clothing, was entirely exposed.
His musculature, which was always well-trained and lacked even an ounce of fat, stood out
even more.
The sharply defined lines of his cut muscles looked like they could cut paper.
Granola couldn’t help but swallow his dry saliva at the sight of Vikir, whose body was
nothing like his peer’s.
“This, this kind of physique… I guess it’s possible to endure 8 times gravity if you squeeze
this kind of body dry. Yes. But without using Aura, it’s impossible to go any further. That’s
the inherent limit for someone with such a meager Aura capacity… What?”
Granola’s words were interrupted once again. Kiki! Vikir immediately adjusted the gravity
coefficient on the control panel upon leaving the gravity chamber.
F-2 Gravity Chamber
[Gravity Coefficient: 9 times normal]
[Current Usage Time: 0]
[Use of Aura: None]
Without any hesitation, Vikir re-entered the chamber and began to endure 9 times gravity.
‘It’s impossible. At this level, I won’t last even a minute!’ Granola and others thought.
However, Vikir inside the chamber had no thoughts of giving up. ‘Aura is more active in a
healthy body. So, you should train your pure physical strength without using Aura.’
Vikir was still a teenager, and his body had not yet reached its full growth in terms of
muscles and skeletal development. Under normal circumstances, enduring this level of
gravity would have been impossible for him. However, his harsh training in his early years
and his survival instincts developed while growing up in the wilderness, along with the
strong-willed experiences of slaying demons, had turned Vikir into a formidable individual.
Despite the cries of muscles and bones tearing and the pain, his extraordinary regenerative
abilities immediately healed the damage.
With every attempt, his muscle mass increased, and he became more robust.
Vikir ultimately endured for another hour, and then he exited the gravity chamber.
Swoosh!
Every time he endured, he could feel the muscle mass increasing. Students who had been
keeping an eye on Vikir’s increasing gravity chamber time from outside were now openly
astonished.
“Wow, look at his body. We couldn’t tell when he was wearing clothes…”
“Seriously, without using Aura, if we only consider his physical records, he seems like the
strongest among the first-year students.”
“What’s first-year? He could outclass even the third-year seniors. Or maybe even the fourth-
year graduation class.”
“But in the end, what’s the point? He’s just a noob in Aura.”
[TL/N: Aura and mana are used interchangeably, but when talking bout mages we’ll use
mana, when warriors we’ll use aura, the principle behind them is the same.]
“Right. Ultimately, to become a graduator, the amount and density of aura are more
important.”
“It’s a pity. If he had been born into a prestigious family and received proper support, by
now…”
While everyone was impressed by Vikir’s records, there was also an air of disdain, jealousy,
and pity among the students.
However, their gazes shifted again due to Vikir’s next action.
Kiki!
F-2 Gravity Chamber
[Gravity Coefficient: 10 times]
[Current Usage Time: 0]
[Use of Aura: None]
Vikir once again increased the gravity.
.
.
.
When Vikir exited the gravity chamber, Tudor and Sancho waited inside the strength training
room.
“Vikir, you just endured 12 times gravity? Is it possible to do that without training your
aura?”
“Unbelievable. Despite being a Mid-Tier Expert, I can’t even do that. There was no northern
warrior who could withstand 12 times gravity barehanded. What’s the trick? Doesn’t
increasing gravity that much increase the risk of muscle loss?”
Vikir received the towel from Tudor and the protein supplement from Sancho, nodding
quietly.
Tudor chuckled and said, “That Granola brat fled after watching you endure the 10 times
gravity. It was delightful, that bastard, keke~”
Vikir didn’t pay much attention to the surrounding evaluations. He just nodded quietly once
more.
Just then, the training room door swung open.
Someone had entered, and it was an unusual visitor, Bianca. She rarely came to this place.
Bianca turned her head and stared at Vikir among the startled male students. Then, she
abruptly shouted, “A mosquito?!”
At Bianca’s exclamation, everyone in the strength training room turned their heads in
confusion. Bianca shouted again, “Y-You, did you plan it?”
No one understood why she was suddenly making such comments, even Vikir himself was
perplexed. He just raised an eyebrow and remained silent.
Bianca shouted once more in frustration, “And, was it you on the rooftop that night, That rum
scent?!”
Tudor said “Hey, stop it and leave. This is the men’s section. Why don’t you go to the
women’s section?”
“You’re out of your mind, I ain’t here for you!” Bianca retorted.
“You think I’m interested in you? I heard you just got a part-time job at a cafe. Go there and
work you dumbass” He said with a smirk.
Bianca retorted, “Why do you even know I started working at the café? You lunatic!”
Tudor suddenly blushed “H-Hold back your arrogance. I just heard about it because Sinclaire
works there too.”
Meanwhile, Sancho watched Vikir and said, “Vikir, you know what? They seem to suit each
other, despite the bickering.”
Vikir responded with a puzzled expression, “I don’t know, they seem to be at odds.”
Sancho continued, “Maybe, but they always seem interested in each other when they
quarrel.”
Vikir considered this for a moment and replied, “Maybe that’s because they dislike each
other?”
Sancho smiled wryly and said, “Hm. Could be, but I have a different feeling about them.”
Vikir looked at the interaction between Tudor, Bianca, and Sancho. “It seems you have a
keen sense for this.”
Vikir’s thoughts drifted back to his earlier life. As children, Tudor and Bianca had always
fought with each other, but it was no secret that they would eventually fall in love. It had
become a small, heartwarming story everyone knew and supported, except for the two
involved.
However, now that he had returned, there was no sign of this, which left Vikir perplexed. It
seemed that only Sancho, who was close to both Tudor and Bianca, sensed something.
“I’m not particularly attuned to this kind of thing,” Vikir thought to himself.
Vikir was about to get dressed when his left wrist began to tremble slightly. On his wrist, a
young spider rested, gazing up at him with a pitiful expression.
[Heh-heh…]
The young spider had apparently digested all the poison Granola had sprayed earlier.
“Just endure a little longer. I’ll make sure you eat your fill during tomorrow’s midterm
practical exam,” Vikir said, patting the spider’s head.
In just twelve hours, the midterm exams would begin. Vikir, disguised as a student, had
started planning for tomorrow, fully aware of the importance of the exam.
——————
Chapter 179 Random Defense in the Midterm Exam (1)
It was the season for midterm exams at Colosseo Academy. The academy had two major
exams: the final exam and the midterm exam. The final exam consisted of student duels,
following a tournament-style no-holds-barred format. However, to consider the skill levels of
the students, they introduced the concept of “Tiers,” grouping students with similar abilities
to compete against each other.
To assess the skill tiers for the final exam, they needed to verify the students’ abilities from
various angles, and this process was the purpose of the midterm exam. The midterm exam
was divided into three main parts: Defense and attack, a group test for evaluating “defense,”
an individual test for evaluating “attack,” and a regular written exam.
The written exam accounted for only about 10% of the overall score, so its weight was not
substantial. However, Defense and Attack had a significant influence, with 50% and 40%
weightage, respectively.
Whether it was the Defense or Attack test, students had to engage in combat against
simulated creatures, known as “marvels.” These marvels were essentially holographic
dummies created by the professors at the Arcane Arts Department to mimic the appearance of
actual creatures. The professors controlled these golems to simulate real combat situations
with nearly lifelike movements.
In the Defense test, students formed groups of four and entered the arena, where they
experienced a landscape that appeared to be a real dungeon or a marvel-infested field, thanks
to the extensive holographic magic.
(For the spectators watching the matches from outside the arena, they could only see a
circular arena with a diameter of 100 meters.)
Students wore black tights that covered their entire bodies, which served as magical gear.
When they received a certain level of impact, it was quantified and displayed on distant
scoreboards. Students were assigned “Hit Points (HP),” which were deducted every time they
were hit by marvels. The deduction varied depending on the strength of the attack, and even a
blow to a vital spot would result in a deduction.
If their HP reached zero, they would automatically be eliminated, so caution was crucial
when facing the marvels. Students, in groups of four, had to enter the dungeon and defend
against waves of monsters that surged like a tide. Their test scores were determined by how
long they could hold the defense during these monster waves.
For instance, this time, Dolores, the 3rd-year student council president, formed a party with
three fellow students she got along with and ventured into the virtual reality dungeon to face
hordes of “Carnage Ants.” They successfully blocked most of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd phases of
the monster wave.
The time they held out was 20 minutes for the 1st phase, 20 minutes for the 2nd phase, and
18 minutes for the 3rd phase. If they had endured just 2 more minutes, they would have
achieved a perfect score. Nevertheless, this performance alone was a remarkable
achievement, as it marked the longest duration held out among the 3rd-year students.
And the 2nd-year vice president also formed a group of four to face the “Carnage Ants.”
They successfully held off the monsters in the 1st and 2nd phases but retired at the beginning
of the 3rd phase.
Their recorded times were 20 minutes for the 1st phase, 20 minutes for the 2nd phase, and
just 1 minute for the 3rd phase, totaling 41 minutes. This became the best record among the
2nd-year students. Most of the 3rd-year students managed to endure until the 3rd phase, and
similarly, most of the 2nd-year students could hold on until the 2nd phase. Now, it was the
turn of the 1st-year students.
A large crowd had gathered next to the arena, filled with people buzzing with excitement.
The midterm and final exams at Colosseo Academy were like festivals for the general public
outside the campus.
“Dolores, you did amazing!”
“Stay strong! Colosseo is our pride!”
“Wow, the Midterm Exams at the other universities all pale in comparison! Colosseo’s
Midterm Exam is the best!”
“We have high hopes for this year’s ‘National University League’ too!”
Spectators formed a dense crowd, chanting the names of the students they supported.
Meanwhile, the faculty, including the principal, were watching the arena from above. Some
of the magic professors from the Arcane Arts Department, who specialized in golem
summoning and precise control, stepped forward.
Clang, clang, clang!
Mud-formed golems rose to their feet. They had three rough spheres connected to form the
body, with six legs on either side, resembling lumps of earth.
Tss, tss, tss…
These mud lumps were enchanted with illusion magic. What were once crude clumps of the
earth now transformed into creatures resembling Carnage Ants, complete with sharp jaws,
legs, and stingers.
When the professors moved their fingers, these Carnage Ant-like golems scuttled around,
breaking rocks with their jaws or thrusting their stingers into the ground. Each time the fake
ants simulated stinger attacks, a small amount of venom was released, making the battle feel
like a real combat situation.
“Wow, they look so much like real monsters.”
“So, those are just piles being controlled by the professors, right?”
“All we have to do is block those things. We can do it!”
The 1st-year students were excited about their first experience with a large-scale exam.
Having just witnessed the impressive performances of the 3rd and 2nd-year students, they
had learned a lot. Soon, a large holographic screen appeared before the 1st-year students.
[Map: Carnage Ant Horde ‘Unclean Slaughter heap’]
Unite your strength with your comrades to fend off the Carnage Ants surging towards you!
HP: 100/100
Kill Points: ? points
Assist Points: ? points
The practical evaluation of the midterm exam had officially begun.
***
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
Meanwhile, Figgy was diligently taking notes outside the arena. He was jotting down the test
scores of the 2nd and 3rd-year students up to the last exam. The 4th-year graduating class
didn’t participate in the midterm or final exams, so in reality, the students with the best test
scores were the 3rd-year students. Among these 3rd-year students, Dolores, the student
council president, held the undisputed top position.
She had formed a well-rounded party with a support role, a defensive-oriented mage, an
offensive-oriented mage, and a versatile mage, which resulted in an astounding endurance of
58 minutes throughout the 3rd phase.
Figgy analyzed the seniors’ test data. “Usually, 3rd-year students make it to the 3rd phase,
and 2nd-year students make it to the 2nd phase. So, 1st-year students only need to hold out
for 20 minutes in the 1st phase. Just surviving for 10 minutes should get them through the
midterm.”
Figgy was strong in written exams, having ranked 3rd in the entrance test, but he lacked
confidence in practical exams. Additionally, Figgy didn’t have the connections to form a
team.
“…What should I do?” Figgy wondered silently.
As Figgy wrestled with his thoughts, someone touched his shoulder. “Hey, why settle for just
the midterm? If you’re going to take the test, see it through to the end.”
It was Tudor. Beside him, Sancho was standing with a fist bump.
Figgy responded with a hesitant voice, “Tudor, you’re so talented that you could probably
last 20 minutes, but… I can’t. I’m just not good at practical tests. So, I don’t know who to
form a team with.”
“What? A team?” Tudor replied with widened eyes. “You already put your name down on
our team.”
“Huh?”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean? So, were you trying to form a team with someone else,
disregarding us?”
Tudor smiled, and Figgy’s bewildered expression wavered for a moment. “I thought no one
would want me in their group…”
“Who cares about that? Right, Sancho?”
“Of course. Plus, you’re way smarter than us. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses.”
Tudor and Sancho nodded in agreement, and Figgy quickly wiped his eyes with a
handkerchief.
Shortly afterward, Tudor turned his head and looked around. “Wait, where did he go? We
need to form a team.”
They were looking for Vikir. However, Vikir was in a different location, not too far away.
@@@@@ Seeking Party Members @@@@@ Expert-Level Tank @@@@@
Looking for two mages [Fire, Poison]#####
Current Party Members (2/4)#####
Party Recruitment))) Expert-Level Melee DPS Here~~!! I can carry you~~!!
Need one tank~~!!!! Expert level or higher~~!!! Current Party Members (3/4)
.
.
Vikir strolled through the outer area of the sports field, filled with numerous bulletin boards.
Spotting Vikir walking toward the other side of the arena, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy went in
that direction, raising their hands to get his attention.
“Hey, Vikir! Let’s form a team quickly! Registration time is running out!”
However, a similar call came from right next to them.
“Big Brother Vikir! Do you have someone to team up with for the group test?”
The person waving and shaking hands was Sinclaire, the head of the Hot department.
Somehow, Bianca was by her side as well.
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Sinclaire, and Bianca. Divided into teams, they surrounded Vikir,
creating a tense atmosphere. The rivalry between Tudor and Bianca, who had a strained
relationship, was particularly strong.
“Vikir decided to be on our team.”
“What are you talking about? He’s been walking alone this whole time. It’s probably you
guys who decided on your own.”
“What nonsense! Vikir is, of course, going to be with us. He’s our best friend, and we’ve
been friends for a long time. Our synergy is the best!”
“Weaklings don’t match with him. He’s an archer, so he’ll have better chemistry with me.”
“Two archers in one party? Do you even know anything about party composition?”
“You’re just playing around. Two archers of our level would dominate party synergy.”
After bickering for a while, they all turned their heads to Vikir.
“Vikir! Which team are you joining?”
But Vikir’s response was unexpected.
“Sorry, but I’ve already decided on a team. I made an arrangement beforehand.”
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, and Sinclaire, all widened their eyes. They had never seen
Vikir go with anyone else since their admission.
Just then, three faces appeared behind Vikir.
“Why, do you have a problem?”
“A problem?”
“Do you have one?”
Three men questioned the group, their tone filled with sarcasm.
Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro. They were notoriously known as the “Three Spears of
Baskerville” in the Cold Department.
——————
Chapter 180 Random Defense in the Midterm Exam (2)
Out of the blue, the triplets from Baskerville appeared, and they addressed Vikir with an
assertive attitude.
“Hey, commoner. Hurry up and follow us. Since it’s a group test, we need to coordinate in
advance.”
Highbro said arrogantly to Vikir.
“….”
Vikir quietly carried all of the triplets’ belongings. He looked like a porter, to say the least.
And just as he was about to follow Highbro.
“Wait a minute, Vikir.”
Someone stood in his way. It was Tudor
He spoke to Vikir in a low voice, filled with anger.
“I’m not trying to disrespect you. I’m just really angry. Can you let me talk to them for a
moment?”
“?”
Vikir stood there blankly.
Taking that as permission, Tudor walked up to Highbro and opened his eyes.
In a voice so low that only he could hear it, he said, “Who do you think you are, bossing my
friend around? Vikir is not your damn subordinate.”
“Huh?”
“And you guys can carry your luggage yourselves. There’s no distinction between nobles and
commoners inside the academy.”
Beneath Tudor’s calm voice, there was a simmering anger.
Highbro turned to Tudor with a bewildered look, as if he couldn’t believe what he was
hearing.
In the background, Middlebro and Lowbro were also glaring at Tudor.
Then, Sancho stepped up to Tudor.
And next to him, there was Figgy with a determined expression.
Shiver…
Figgy’s two legs were trembling uncontrollably, but he didn’t take a step back.]
Tudor shrugged and stepped closer to Highbro.
“I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going on here, but don’t try to force Vikir into your
team. He’s supposed to be in the same group as us.”
“…Who do you think you are to persecute our friend?”
Highbro had a puzzled expression on his face.
But, as is often the case with Baskerville’s hunting dogs, Highbro couldn’t hold back for
long.
Sss…
Tudor stopped short, feeling a sharp aura emanating from Highbro.
Tudor was the current top-ranking member of the Cold Department, and he shared the top
spot with Bianca.
However, Highbro Baskerville, who was also in the Cold Department Class B, finished
second overall, and he wasn’t far behind Tudor or Bianca.
Moreover, behind him were Middlebro, ranked third, and Lowbro, ranked fourth.
On this side were Tudor, the top-ranked member, and Sancho, ranked fifth, along with Figgy,
who didn’t have a ranking.
In a head-to-head confrontation, it was an inevitable fact that they were at a disadvantage in
terms of overall power.
“…Shall we have a match? Should I defeat you again?”
“…Do you think you know what a real battle is?”
Tudor Donquixote and Highbro Baskerville confronted each other, revealing their intentions.
The confrontation between ‘Tudor Donquixote of the Donquixote Clan’ and ‘Highbro
Baskerville of the Iron Blooded Baskerville Clan,’ the empire’s leading spear and sword
users, was about to begin.
Then, some sided with Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy.
“Who are you to persecute our friend?”
“It’s not a pretty sight to see you all ganging up on him. Men…”
When Sinclaire and Bianca joined forces, Tudor’s expression brightened.
Sinclaire and Bianca, representing the Hot Department and the Cold Department,
respectively, brought tremendous reinforcement to their side.
On the other hand, Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro’s expressions became even more rigid.
“Persecution, you say. We were just…”
“Just…”
“Just…”
The triplets hesitated as if they wanted to say something but ultimately closed their mouths.
“Enough.”
Vikir stepped forward.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
Vikir stood behind the Baskerville triplets and spoke.
“I’m not going because I’m being forced. We made the team together because it’s a real
alliance.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, they needed my knowledge about monsters, so they suggested forming a team first.
This happened a few weeks ago.”
In that case, there’s not much else to say.
Tudor scratched his chin, looking perplexed, and then leaned in closer to Vikir’s ear,
whispering,
“Are you really not being harassed or anything like that?”
“No, I’m not. I’m fine.”
“Alright, then. Well, if you ever come across any difficulties, just let me know.”
“Thank you.”
As Vikir nodded, Tudor withdrew with a somewhat disappointed expression.
Sinclaire also fidgeted her fingers as if she was upset.
“Big Brother, are you really in the same group as those people?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? Are you close to them?”
“In a way.”
Vikir’s response left Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, and Sinclaire all raising their eyebrows in
unison.
As far as they knew, Vikir had never socialized with the Baskerville triplets since he enrolled.
So how did he suddenly become friends with them?
“…Doesn’t look like you’re very close. Are you really not being harassed?”
Watching Vikir, who was carrying the triplets’ luggage like a porter, Tudor mumbled in
concern, as if he worried that the vulnerable Vikir might face some trouble.
***
Tudor’s intuition was right on the mark. Vikir wasn’t particularly close with the Baskerville
triplets. And indeed, there was actual harassment occurring, even though the roles of the
instigator and victim was reversed.
In a secluded alley,
“Attention.”
When Vikir finally spoke softly, three immediate responses echoed from below:
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro were on the ground, banging their heads and responding
fervently with a concentrated focus.
Vikir’s gaze remained perched on Highbro’s back as he addressed him.
“You.”
Vikir gazed down at Highbro and in an emotionally detached voice, inquired, “What happens
to hunting dogs that bare their fangs without their master’s permission?”
“…They get punished.”
Highbro answered in a subservient tone.
What if a hunting dog, in the act of hunting, disregards its master’s command and seizes the
prey on its own? Such a hunt is almost guaranteed to fail. For a hunter, a failed hunt does not
simply mean missing the prey. A hunter can always become the prey. Therefore, a hunting
dog must always unquestionably obey its master’s orders if it doesn’t want to end up as the
hunted prey.
Vikir’s gaze descended from Highbro’s trembling back.
“Get up.”
“Getting up!”
“Getting up!”
“Getting up!”
Triplets said in Unison.
“From now on, any fight without permission is strictly prohibited. Even petty arguments. For
life.”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro fervently responded. Their expressions brightened despite
the reprimand. Why? It was because of the final words Vikir had spoken.
‘For life.’
What did those words mean?
‘…He’ll be with us for life!’
They were no longer ‘Baskerville’s Three Spears or Baskerville’s Tridents’ as they had
vowed allegiance to Vikir while being recommended to the academy. Their situation had
changed drastically from the constant fear of being discarded within their family. With a
confirmed master who promised not to abandon them, a dog promised to its owner is bound
to become ten times more courageous.
Moreover, witnessing the battle between Madam Eightlegs and Vikir firsthand, they had an
idea of Vikir’s true strength.
The triplets were sure.
Their master would one day swallow Baskerville whole. Furthermore, he would place the
entire world under his feet. Thus, they willingly pledged their loyalty beneath him, gladly and
with joy.
As it is a dog’s fortune to meet a good master, it’s a knight’s fortune to serve a great lord.
This was their belief.
Meanwhile,
“I don’t particularly like standing out in people’s eyes. I inadvertently stood out a bit, but it’s
troublesome for me,” Vikir admonished the triplets.
The triplets nodded trustingly.
“We’ll handle the midterm exam well on our own.”
“We’ll handle it.”
“We’ll handle it.”
With Vikir as the backline, the triplets would handle everything else. Vikir would stay behind
passively, only taking arrow shots when needed. This way, they could achieve decent test
scores and stay unnoticed.
Highbro explained everything about the test to Vikir.
“When our 69th team enters the arena, the virtual reality magic circle will activate. The
surroundings will transform into a dungeon, and monsters will swarm in. The poison the
monsters emit is diluted, but it’s still real, so it’s dangerous to absorb too much. But please
don’t worry, my lord. We will protect you like a fortress.”
“Good to know. Have you practiced this before?”
“When my lord left the family, I tried a few times in the family’s training ground. It’s not a
very difficult test as long as you hold out as long as possible until the HP you’ve been given
drops from 100 to 0. However, it’s a team test, so you have to pay some attention to your
teammates’ survival in addition to gaining your own kill and assist points.”
From the moment they were born, the Baskerville hounds have been navigating life and
death. So this kind of virtual reality game is just a joke to them.
“Physical damage doesn’t apply until the HP drops from 100 to 0, and poison damage applies
from the beginning, right?”
“That’s correct. If any accidents happen, it’s said that the instructors will come directly to the
arena after disabling the magic barrier.”
Since the monsters are also created by the professors, it was a test that couldn’t be safer.
“Kill or assist, go wild as much as you want. I won’t move a finger.”
At Vikir’s words, the three brothers, Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro, smiled. It felt like
watching three puppies given permission to run and play without a care in the world.
And then,
“Beep-beep!”
With a horn sound, the announcement for the next test-takers echoed.
[1st-year team 69! Four 1st-year team 69 students, please proceed to the arena now!]
The assessment for 1st-year students had just begun.
——————
Chapter 181 Random Defense in the Midterm Exam (3)
Squeak-
[1st-year team 69! Students from 1st-year team 69, please make your way to the arena now!]
It was Vikir’s team’s turn. The Baskerville triplets took the lead, with Vikir following from
the back, carrying a load of gear.
“HighBro, fight on! You look handsome!”
“Baskerville is the best!”
“Show us the charisma of the Three Spears!”
The popularity of Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro had soared both within and outside the
academy. With their formidable skills, noble lineage, tall stature, chiseled features, and the
uniqueness of being triplets, it was no surprise.
Even the Mage Tower, Varangian Academy, and Temisquira Women’s College, the four
major academies in the empire along with Colosseo Academy, came to see the Baskerville
triplets.
On the other hand,
“Vikir, stay strong!”
“We’re here for you!”
“Big Brother, fight on!”
Some cheered for Vikir, including Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Sinclaire, and Bianca.
The 1st-year students had followed Dolores’ advice to form teams with others from either the
Cold Department or the Hot Department, and Vikir’s friends had already separated into two
groups. Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca formed the Cold Department 108th team, while
Sinclaire, as the only member of the Hot Department, joined a different team.
“Ahem, heh! Hey there, commoner! Be grateful to me for accepting you.”
Standing next to Sinclaire was Granola, whose face had turned bright red. While they were
on the same team now, they had only formed the team after Sinclaire posted a message on the
public board stating, “Looking for a party @@@@{Earth (Soil + Metal) Attribute} Magician
$$$$ Top of the Hot Department ####,” and Granola had immediately contacted her. So,
Granola was making a fuss about that.
Anyway,
Vikir and the Baskerville triplets ascended to a circular arena with a diameter of 100 meters.
They were surrounded by a massive colosseum, filled with countless spectators who stomped
their feet and cheered as they watched the test taking place in the arena, resembling an
ancient gladiatorial battle.
Tsutsutsutsu…
The scenery in the arena quickly changed. The view of Vikir and the triplets was transformed
in an instant into a deep, underground tunnel.
And then, countless “Carnage Ants” began swarming toward them.
“Wow!”
The spectators erupted in cheers. To them, it would seem as if numerous golems were
circling the circular arena-like ants and approaching in a clockwise direction.
Vikir and the triplets had to intercept and pursue these ants before they reached the arena’s
center. Phase 1 lasted 20 minutes. They would get a perfect score if they could last the entire
20 minutes against this massive ant army. Even if they tried their hardest, most first-year
students could only hope to last 17 to 18 minutes. A time of 19 minutes would likely place
them in the top ten.
“…”
Vikir looked around.
“Impure Anthill,” the nest of Carnage Ants, was deep within the ground. It was a nightmarish
dungeon that most people would never visit in their lifetime. However, Vikir had been here
dozens, if not hundreds, of times already, not in a virtual reality, but in the real world.
“I almost died several times back then. It wasn’t a matter of days but moments.”
Vikir furrowed his brow at the memories that crept up on him. Darkness, the musty smell of a
tomb, damp, wrinkled earth walls, mucous flowing like curtains, mounds of eggs wriggling
on the floor and walls, and swarms of ant-sized people crawling in and out of them…
Normally, new students would be terrified by the bleak appearance of the dungeon right in
front of them.
“Ho, they’ve recreated it quite well, haven’t they?”
To Vikir, this place was nothing more than a playground where kids played around. Before
long, Vikir began shooting his bow.
Thwack! Thwick! Thwack!
The exoskeleton of the Carnage Ants was tough. Especially, their headpieces, shaped like
shields, were excellent defense mechanisms that could repel most impacts. So, Vikir aimed
for the joints of the ant’s forelimbs and antennae.
Thunk!
Ants with bent forelimbs fell to the ground and were crushed by the ants behind them. The
carcasses that fell served as obstacles, slowing down the advance of other ants.
Squelch-
Moreover, ants with severed antennae couldn’t navigate properly and sometimes ran into
walls or the ceiling, causing chaos in the rear ranks. In this way, the ants with slowed advance
were being exterminated by the Baskerville triplets.
Crunch!
Top-Tier Sword Expert. At the age of 19, they had reached the limit of Sword Expert and
were now emitting a crimson aura that floated and swirled like steam between gas and liquid
as they began to cut down the ants.
Thwack! Thwick! Thwack! Thwack! Thud! Thud!
Ant heads and bodies were being sliced to pieces. The Baskerville triplets were pushing the
ant army backward.
[Map: Carnage Ant Colony ‘Impure Anthill’]
Join forces with your comrades to fend off the attacking Carnage Ants!
Time remaining until the end of Phase 1: 14 minutes 58 seconds
Highbro le Baskerville
HP: 91/100
Kill Points: 49 points
Assist Points: 23 points
Middlebro le Baskerville
HP: 87/100
Kill Points: 45 points
Assist Points: 26 points
Lowbro le Baskerville
HP: 86/100
Kill Points: 41 points
Assist Points: 29 points
Vikir
HP: 100/100
Kill Points: 2 points
Assist Points: 38 points
As time passed, their scores kept rising. Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro were fiercely
engaged on the front lines, and their HP was gradually decreasing. In the meantime, Vikir,
being protected by them, continued to shoot arrows from the back, gathering a fair amount of
assist points even though his kill points were not as noticeable. He was building up a
reasonable score.
In the early stages of the match, the audience had been solely focused on the flashy individual
skills displayed by the Baskerville triplets. But slowly, they began to notice Vikir, who was
steadily accumulating assists from the back.
“Who is that guy, though? Vikir? I guess he’s a commoner since he doesn’t have a surname.”
“Oh, Vikir! The one who was ranked first in the written test? He’s an archer, right? No
wonder his mana reserves seem low.”
“He’s quite a good archer, though, right?.”
“But wasn’t he briefly the talk of the town for being good-looking? Doesn’t seem that
impressive to me.”
“No, he’s quite impressive if he takes off his glasses. Should I show you? I had a mana GIF
somewhere.”
Many eyes in the audience glanced at Vikir briefly, but as he continued to stand still and
shoot arrows, their attention quickly waned.
Only Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Sinclaire, and Bianca’s cheers were unwavering.
“Stay strong, friend! We’re cheering for you!”
“Vikir, buddy. He’s steadily accumulating assist points. At this rate, he’ll get a good score.”
“Wow, Vikir is amazing with a bow! Even if it’s not that noticeable, he’s effectively
impeding the ants’ advance.”
“It’s a shame. If I and him were on the same team, we would’ve complemented each other so
well.”
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
“What are you talking about? An archer’s heart is known by archers. If I had teamed up with
him, our scores would have doubled.”
Whether Vikir was aware of his friends’ heartfelt support or not, he continued to steadfastly
fend off the ant waves in silence.
Slurp, clang, squelch!
The ants clicked their exoskeletons, making an unpleasant sound and occasionally raising
their stingers like scorpions, then squirting venom.
Sizzle!
A faint paralyzing toxin flew through the air like a water gun, originating from quite a
distance.
Vikir looked at it and thought, “The ants may have holographic magic covering their mud
doll-like forms, but the venom is real.”
The textbook of Golemology offered various methods for storing different items within
golems. The professors here had created ant-shaped golems and filled them with diluted
venom, courtesy of the Monster Research Laboratory.
Meanwhile, the Baskerville triplets lowered their bodies every time the ants sprayed venom
and directed them toward Vikir, just as Vikir had ordered.
Sizzle, thud!
A dense poisonous fog rose. This phenomenon was happening for real inside the arena.
(Thanks to the thick magical barrier surrounding the arena, the venom couldn’t reach the
audience.)
The reason Vikir wanted to get close to the venom was simple.
[Om nom nom…]
Baby Madam.
The creature attached to his left wrist was greedily slurping up the poisonous fog. The level
of the paralyzing toxin emitted by the Carnage Ants was just right for this little fellow’s meal.
This tiny creature, smaller than a palm, consumed the toxins quite well, even though it wasn’t
visibly stored anywhere.
“Do spiders eat a lot at once and then go without eating for a long time?”
For Baby Madam, this place was like a 20-minute all-you-can-eat poison buffet. So, it
seemed better to feed it generously right now.
…Soon.
[Map: Carnage Ant Colony ‘Impure Anthill’]
Join forces with your comrades to fend off the attacking Carnage Ants!
Time remaining until the end of Phase 1: 1 minute 07 seconds
Highbro le Baskerville
HP: 2/100
Kill Points: 228 points
Assist Points: 80 points
Middlebro le Baskerville
HP: 1/100
Kill Points: 208 points
Assist Points: 96 points
Lowbro le Baskerville
HP: 1/100
Kill Points: 199 points
Assist Points: 102 points
Vikir
HP: 47/100
Kill Points: 16 points
Assist Points: 134 points
The wave time was almost coming to an end.
As Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro all reached 0 HP almost simultaneously, they continued
to battle countless ants to the very end. When the three brothers finally retired with 0 HP, it
was Vikir’s turn.
After the test, the total scores were as follows: Highbro with 308 points, Middlebro with 304
points, Lowbro with 301 points, and Vikir with 150 points. They had endured for a
remarkable 19 minutes and 50 seconds, with only 10 seconds remaining until the end of
Phase 1. When combining kill points and assist points, they had a total of 1,063 points. When
converting the 19 minutes and 50 seconds into points at a rate of 1 point per second, their
final score was 1,190 points.
Vikir’s team had garnered a total of 2,253 points, making them the undisputed top scorers
among the first-year students.
A new record!
The Baskerville triplets exited the arena with smiles on their faces, reveling in the cheers
from the crowd.
Next up was the ever-expressionless Vikir. As he was about to leave the arena when the
competition ended, he noticed something strange.
“…?”
His left arm felt slightly heavier. When he turned his head, he saw Baby Madam stubbornly
tugging at a thin spider thread on the arena floor, refusing to leave.
It seemed like the little creature wanted more of the remaining poison.
“Can you eat that much more? But no, it’s time to leave.”
[Screech-screech…]
“Then you stay here in the arena. I’m going home.”
[Squeak-squeak…]
“Sigh…”
Vikir picked up the struggling Baby Madam and placed it inside his left sleeve, so it appeared
as if he was just picking up a wristwatch that had fallen on the ground.
Finally, as Vikir exited the arena, he could hear the crowd discussing his performance.
“Wow, it’s Vikir, right? That guy did really well.”
“That’s not right, the Baskerville triplets were the ones who did everything.”
“We thought the top three students brought a geek with them to torment, but as it turns out,
they brought a master archer for assistance~.”
“Lucky commoner. How did he get into that team?”
“Well, he was ranked first in the written test, so he must be good with brains.”
“But he did a good job of blocking monsters with his arrows. 150 points might not be an
outstanding score, but it’s decent.”
“I heard he’s really amazing at archery, I watched him last time. He was almost on par with
Biance Usher, right?”
“Oh, don’t exaggerate. It was only a 1-point difference because of the last shot. In archery, a
1-point difference is huge. It’s almost an insurmountable skill gap. A 2-point difference
would make it impossible to compare.”
“Still, he’s kind of helpful. We should try to be in the same team next time.”
“Right. He’s the highest scorer among commoner archers.”
Initially, there was a lot of negative talk about Vikir being carried by the Baskerville triplets,
but it gradually changed to a more positive consensus.
Of course, Vikir himself didn’t care about these opinions. However, others did.
“Hahaha, it’s heartwarming to see my friend getting recognized.”
“With scores like that and his dedication, he’ll be recognized wherever he goes.”
“That’s right. Vikir isn’t just smart; everyone seems to have discovered his new charm.”
“Big Brother, you’re cool. Hehe.”
“…Well, he does shoot pretty well. Even if he didn’t get a high score, he did pretty well in
the middle.”
“His archery is impressive, too. He’s a good all-rounder.
Seeing that Vikir’s 69th team had taken first place among the first-year students, Tudor,
Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca were fired up. They cheered for their team and shared their
determination to break the record.
“Let’s break that record! Go, 108th team!”
“We can’t lose to Baskerville’s three brothers.”
“I’ve been studying the slaughter ants all night!”
“Just create some distance, and I’ll carry us to victory. Don’t let the monsters come near me.”
They were enthusiastic and motivated, ready to give their best efforts. Meanwhile, the 203rd
team, which included Granola and Sinclaire, was also preparing for the test.
Soon, the announcement called the 108th team, which consisted of Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and
Bianca, to enter the arena.
As they eagerly ran toward the arena, they were filled with excitement.
Meanwhile, Vikir, who had come to watch his friends’ matches, sensed that something was
amiss.
“Something’s not right…”
An uncomfortable feeling was creeping over him, and he couldn’t pinpoint the cause.
However, he soon realized the source of his unease.
“Ah!”
His left hand had felt lighter for a while, and he hadn’t paid much attention to it. Hurriedly,
he checked the inside of his left sleeve.
Inside, he found Baby Madam sitting quietly. But something was off.
“Snap!”
As Vikir reached out to grab it, Baby Madam disintegrated into an empty shell. All that was
left was the hollow husk.
The little creature had molted during their time in the arena.
——————
Chapter 182: Random Defense in the Midterm Exam (4)
Tudor recently remembered the duel he almost had with Highbro. He muttered to himself,
“That unlucky brat, acting all high and mighty just because he wields a sword. Let’s see what
happens next time we cross paths. I might have to put him in his place again.”
“Woah, your lines sounded like a third-rate villain just now,” Bianca remarked, giving Tudor
a thumbs up.
It was quite surprising that Tudor and Bianca, who had always been at odds, were now in the
same group.
“Do you think we’ll be okay?” Tudor asked.
“Hmm,” Bianca replied with a non-committal shrug.
Figgy and Sancho watched them nervously.
But their worries were in vain.
“All right, let’s work together for once, Bianca,” Tudor said.
“Don’t worry, just focus on your spearmanship, Tudor.”
As soon as the exam began, Tudor and Bianca set aside their personal emotions and became
business partners.
The scene in front of them was filled with common darkness, damp soil, creepy fungi,
repulsive mucus, foul-smelling eggs, and piles of larvae that squirmed disgustingly.
And through the midst of these, an endless army of ants started pouring in.
Monster wave! It was about to overwhelm the four students.
Ding!
A magical status board appeared before everyone.
[Map: Carnage Ant Colony ‘Impure Anthill’]
Join forces with your comrades to fend off the attacking Carnage Ants!
Time remaining until Phase 1 ends: 19 minutes 59 seconds
Tudor Donquixote
HP: 100/100
Kill Points: 0
Assist Points: 0
Sancho Barataria
HP: 100/100
Kill Points: 0
Assist Points: 0
Bianca Usher
HP: 100/100
Kill Points: 0
Assist Points: 0
Figgy
HP: 100/100
Kill Points: 0
Assist Points: 0
“All right! Shall we set a new record?” Tudor, the most prominent youth from the
Donquixote Clan, charged forward while holding a massive spear.
Whoosh!
An aura resembling steam, proving his expertise, emitted a radiant blue light and swirled
around him.
Although an Expert’s aura was less dense and had less intensity compared to a Graduator’s
Gooey Honey-like (liquid) aura or a Swordmaster’s solid aura, it was the lightest in weight.
In other words, it was the easiest to swing.
Pew, pew, pew, bang!
The aura storm extending from Tudor’s spear shredded the ants in front of them like paper.
Bianca couldn’t help but snicker. “Do you really need to turn ants into confetti? It’s
inefficient to waste power you don’t have to use.”
“What? Seriously. Then you give it a try.”
“Of course, I can. Watch and learn.”
As soon as Bianca finished speaking, she released her grip on her arrow.
Fwoosh!
An arrow, seemingly devoid of mana, flew with a bluish trail.
It precisely pierced through the forehead of the ant right in front and continued on to partially
lodge itself in the forehead of the ant behind.
Bianca effortlessly killed the ants one by one, delivering just enough damage to ensure a fatal
blow.
She hit the right spot every time with her arrow.
An Expert aura carried in her shots pierced through the ants in a straight line, killing them
one after the other.
“Oh, feeling a bit cocky, aren’t we?” Tudor quipped.
“Now you see it? Hoho,” Bianca replied, and the two of them exchanged smirks. They were
secretly getting along well, like evil buddies.
At that moment, some ants fell from the ceiling, targeting Bianca.
“They dare!” Tudor and Sancho exclaimed.
Massive axes and a sharp spear cut down the ants, protecting Bianca.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
Sancho and Figgy had transformed into tanks, standing by Bianca’s side.
Thwack! Crunch! Whack! Squish!
Sancho wielded two axes with immense power, chopping the ants to pieces.
Figgy brandished his longsword, cutting down the ants while issuing orders.
“Tudor, try to get to the corner and unleash your area attacks when the ant formation breaks.
Sancho, instead of blocking the central path, draw them further inward! Bianca, target the
ants in the middle formation if possible. No need to kill them, focus on their front leg joints!”
Figgy’s orders were precise and sharp, and even Bianca, who didn’t like following others,
moved according to his orders with a surprised expression.
“You’re surprisingly good at this,” Tudor commented.
“Hehe, thanks. I did a lot of research to avoid causing any trouble!” Figgy may have had
lower combat abilities compared to the others, but his intelligence and diligence made up for
it. As a result, Tudor, Sancho, and Bianca were able to hunt more efficiently than ever before.
“See! I told you I’m good, didn’t I?”
“No one ever disagreed with you. Huh!”
Tudor’s spear crushed the ants in the front, and Sancho’s double axes took care of the ants
that slipped through.
“Our team’s working quite well, isn’t it?” Bianca observed as she continued to disrupt the ant
formation with her arrows, noticeably slowing down the monster wave’s progress.
“Thanks for trusting my orders! I’ll go again. Tudor, widen your area a bit; your spear skills
are amazing, so you can cover more ground. Oh, and Sancho, do the same. You’re doing
great here, but fighting closer to the corner will be more efficient. Bianca, you’re doing really
well, so just keep it up. You all are doing great! Let’s go!” Figgy gave his orders, and
everything proceeded swiftly under his command.
Tudor, who had crushed the ants’ exoskeletons at the front, shouted while avoiding the
pouring venom. “Hey! We might actually break Vikir’s record if we keep this up!”
In response, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca each chimed in.
“At this rate, it’s entirely possible! Let’s set a new record!”
“Whew… This is really tough. Vikir must have had it tough too, right?”
“Those guys from Baskerville are so stubborn and tough, it must have been challenging.”
Everyone thought fondly of Vikir, who had fought alongside Baskerville’s triplets.
Time passed. Countless ant corpses piled up, and Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy, who were on the
front lines, were now in a precarious state.
Their HP had dwindled to the point where Bianca, who had been the damage dealer, had to
step up and act as a tank.
And finally…
[Map: Carnage Ant Colony ‘Impure Anthill’]
Join forces with your comrades to fend off the attacking Carnage Ants!
Time remaining until Phase 1 ends: 0 minutes 8 seconds
Tudor Donquixote
HP: 0/100
Kill Points: 231
Assist Points: 81
Sancho Barataria
HP: 0/100
Kill Points: 189
Assist Points: 94
Bianca Usher
HP: 0/100
Kill Points: 156
Assist Points: 179
Figgy
HP: 0/100
Kill Points: 58
Assist Points: 89
Remaining time: 8 seconds!
They outperformed Vikir’s group by 2 seconds.
After the exam concluded, the total scores were as follows: Tudor 312 points, Sancho 283
points, Bianca 335 points, and Figgy 147 points.
When you add up the kill points and assist points, the total is 1,077 points. If you convert the
remaining time of 19 minutes and 52 seconds into 1 point per second, you get a total of 1,192
points. With a total of 2,269 points, they surpassed the previous first-place record of 2,253
points by 16 points. The new record holder!
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca, with their HP partially revealed on their status screens,
shouted in exhilaration.
“We’re in first place! Yahoo!”
“Great job, everyone.”
“Is this real? Are we really in first place? Hooray!”
“You’ve all worked hard.”
Tudor, who had the most kills, followed by Sancho, Bianca, who had the highest combined
score, and Figgy, the tactical mastermind, had set a fantastic new record, and it seemed like
there were no other teams that could surpass it.
Tudor looked at the HP display on his suit and let out a relieved sigh. “It’s fortunate that the
shock was quantified as HP. If this had reached 0, it would mean we’d be dead in a real
battle.”
His words made everyone realize the terror of a real battle once again.
As they looked back at the number of monsters they had defeated, they assessed their
abilities, limitations, and potential for improvement.
“Alright, let’s get out of here!” Figgy shouted, and everyone nodded in agreement.
For first-year students, the exam only consisted of Phase 1. In their second year, they would
face Phase 2 with an additional 20 minutes, and in their third year, Phase 3 would add another
20 minutes. Bianca murmured, “Someday, I’ll become a warrior who can endure for an hour,
just like President Dolores.”
Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy also nodded in agreement. Soon, they headed towards the
dungeon’s exit. They were about to return to the real world as the holographic magic
dissipated. The illusionary ant nest would disappear, and the real stadium would reappear.
The magical barrier would also be lifted, and the cheers of the audience, just like thunder,
would reach their ears.
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca considered how they would respond to the cheers from the
spectators.
However…
“Huh?”
“What’s going on?”
“Uh…?”
“Why isn’t it ending?”
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca wore puzzled expressions. Despite the completion of
Phase 1 for first-year students, the illusion of the ant nest had not disappeared. Everyone
looked at their status screens but found no changes.
1. Tudor Donquixote
HP: 0/100
2. Sancho Panza Barataria
HP: 0/100
3. Usher Pau Bianca
HP: 0/100
4. Figgy
HP: 0/100
All their HP remained the same, and the system displayed “Everyone Retired” to signal the
exam’s conclusion. Just then, a new wave of ants began swarming in.
“What’s going on!?”
“Why are they coming back?”
“Wasn’t it over!?”
“Open the door quickly!”
Everyone was perplexed and tried to shake the magical barrier behind them, but there was no
response from the outside.
Instead, they saw a message:
[Gurgling…]
It wasn’t just ordinary ants this time. Large-sized soldier ants were swarming in, their bodies
coated in armor-like exoskeletons.
“…We’re in trouble,” Tudor muttered as everyone’s faces turned pale.
The giant, armored soldier ants were a sight to behold, and the situation had taken an
unexpected turn.
[Ding]
[Phase 1 has concluded.]
[Up to this point, the monsters are for first-year students.]
[Phase 2 has now begun.]
[From this point onward, the monsters are for second-year students.]
This time, they were no longer facing mere worker ants. The inclusion of massive soldier ants
signaled a significant escalation in the difficulty of the exam.
“…This is bad.” Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca’s faces drained of color.
——————
Chapter 183 Random Defense in the Midterm Exam (5)
Student Council President Dolores.
She was watching with a pleased expression as her 1st-year club juniors set a new record. But
as time passed, Dolores’ expression grew stiffer.
“Why isn’t the exam ending?”
She wasn’t the only one with this reaction. The entire audience, students, and even professors
who were monitoring the exam were bewildered.
“What’s going on?”
“Why hasn’t the exam ended when their HP is 0?”
“They’re 1st-years! Who initiated Phase 2?”
The phases were managed by magical devices that emitted a blue light, looking like crystals.
Those in charge of these devices were staring at the instrument panels with distressed
expressions.
“It seems that there’s still a strong life reaction left beyond the registered students in the exam
area, causing an error.”
“What? What are you talking about? There are only four students in the arena!”
The professors’ responses were bewildered. Originally, there was only the life force
equivalent to about four humans in the arena, and that had been converted into points by the
HP suits. With it now at 0, there shouldn’t be any life reactions left.
Yet, clearly displayed on the instrument panel was one more “life-filled being” capable of
combat.
The professors were dumbfounded and tried to look beyond the magical barrier, but they
couldn’t see any living creatures other than the students.
“In any case, it seems that there was an error due to a conflict between the life reaction check
magic and the phase management magic.”
“Oh no, this is serious. Why did this error happen? Even if there are only four students in the
arena… Ah, that’s not the most important thing right now! Quickly, stop this match!”
“To be precise, we are from the phase management department, not the life reaction checking
magic department…”
“Who cares about your department?! It’s not going to work, is it? It’s faster to stop the
golems than try to fix the magical code, right?”
“But… You see, starting this year, golem creation and movement have been automated. The
related magical code is linked to magic stones, and to dismantle it, we would have to
deactivate the life reaction check magic and the phase management magic first.”
“What? Are you kidding me? You set up the magical code for the exam so carelessly! Then
what do you suggest? Tell me how to fix this!”
“Well, there is a solution, of course! Since the magical barrier code surrounding the arena is
separate, we could temporarily disable it, allowing the students to exit.”
“Then, disable the magical barrier!”
“But the magical barrier isn’t under our jurisdiction… This could lead to complicated issues
in terms of responsibility.”
‘Jurisdiction’ and ‘responsibility’ were truly words that could make anyone’s brain freeze,
even if they were rational and sensible people. In times of crisis, it was even more so. What
appeared to be minor issues stacked on top of each other due to overlapped administrative
work.
Nonetheless, there was a solution. They needed to disable the transparent magical dome
surrounding the arena and allow the trapped students to exit.
The head professor gave instructions with a boiling face.
“Then quickly disable the magical barrier. Let the students inside come out.”
“But the magical barrier isn’t under our jurisdiction, so… I will try to find someone who has
the magical barrier key.”
The professors of the department head level moved hastily.
Finally, a professor holding the magical barrier key appeared. It was none other than Banshee
Morg, a promising candidate for the next vice-principal.
He was supervising another exam in a different building but rushed over upon hearing about
the series of events happening in Tudor’s team.
“The magical barrier key? Well, I do have it…”
Banshee Morg was perplexed as he produced the key, which contained a spell for disabling
the magical barrier. The key had a large letter “A” written on it.
“The magical barrier dismantling key isn’t possible with just one key. If we don’t have the B
key, the A key is useless.”
To enhance security, the key had been divided into two parts.
After Professor Banshee’s announcement, all the professors began searching for the B key.
Yet, another incident occurred.
“Professor Sadi, who has the B key, left her post without authorization!”
“What? Seriously!? Oh, that bitch! It’s been days since she was disciplined for her neglect…
Where in the world did she go?!?”
“She said she was going to the restroom, and then we lost contact.”
“Damn it! This crazy woman…!?”
While the professors were wasting time dealing with these various issues, Tudor, Sancho,
Figgy, and Bianca were struggling to fend off the ants.
“What the hell? Why isn’t the fantasy dungeon, golem creation, or magical barrier being
disabled?”
Their HP had already dropped to zero the last fight, so they had no choice but to physically
fight against the monsters.
The ants were still relentlessly rushing at them.
——————
HEL SCANS
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——————
In a defense-type structure like this, the monsters were generated without limit. Moreover, in
the 2nd phase, specifically designed for 2nd-year students, these were not ordinary ants.
[O-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh!]
A giant ant with a massive body rose up among the swarm. Its head was as broad and tough
as a shield, covered with countless spikes, and it was several times larger than the other ants.
“A soldier ant!”
Figgy exclaimed in shock. If such creatures mixed in with ordinary ants, there was no hope.
“Damn it, we have to stop it!”
“I’ll give it a try!”
Tudor and Sancho did their best to stand their ground, but they couldn’t produce a wave of
mana from the depleted mana pool.
The soldier ant rushed forward with its shield-like head and sent Tudor and Sancho flying.
Crash!
It smashed their supply spears and axes, which were already bare. Then the soldier ants began
to push them with their shielded heads.
It felt like being overwhelmed by an army of shield bearers. Figgy, Tudor, Sancho, and
Bianca were crushed by the oncoming ants.
“It’s heavy!”
“Ugh! They keep coming!”
“I… I feel like I’m going to die!”
“Aaah! What are the professors doing!?”
Everyone was groaning in agony.
The situation was quite severe, but the accident had occurred in the blink of an eye. The
professors had not yet figured out a solution and were too busy arguing with each other.
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca were struggling to fend off the ants as their HP had already
reached zero. They had to physically engage in combat against the monsters.
Meanwhile, Dolores, who had rushed to the scene, felt a deep sense of despair and
frustration. She couldn’t understand why the professors were not taking action to help the
students.
“Guys, just hold on a little longer!”
Dolores took a deep breath and then drew a dagger from the professor’s belt next to her.
Ignoring the professors’ protests and warnings, she dashed toward the magical stone.
“What are you doing, Student Council President!”
“Are you out of your mind!? Stop right now!”
“If you break that, it won’t end with just expulsion! We’ll directly demand compensation
from Quovadis…!”
But no threat or warning could stop Dolores. She was determined to save her juniors at any
cost. She raised her dagger and was about to strike the magical stone.
“Hyah!”
However, just as she was about to bring the dagger down, a series of violent noises echoed
from inside the arena. The audience outside, behind the magical barrier, was startled.
“!?”
Dolores quickly looked around, and the other professors who were rushing to stop her also
froze in astonishment as they watched what was happening inside the arena.
The magical barrier, designed to keep external intruders and internal exits blocked, was still
intact. However, inside the barrier, something they had never seen before was happening.
A man stood there, in front of Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca as they faced the oncoming
ants. His aura was imposing and seemed to exude power.
“Step aside.”
It was Vikir.
——————
Chapter 184 Random Defense in the Midterm Exam (6)
In their weakened state, Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca had no way to defend themselves.
They were drained of both their physical and mana reserves, and the pressure from the
golem-like ants was too much for them to bear. They felt helpless and despaired, lamenting
the fact that they hadn’t even become heroes yet.
“Ugh. To meet my end like this… I never imagined.”
“My final moments… to think they’d be like this…”
“Hey, Figgy! Why isn’t he saying anything? Is he already dead!?”
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca were overwhelmed by despair, unable to make any moves.
It seemed they were about to give up their last shred of hope.
Then, suddenly, a loud bang erupted.
The immense pressure they were under vanished along with the ants’ weight. The oppressive
atmosphere lifted as fresh air filled the space, dispelling the suffocating fog.
Confused and gasping for air, Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca raised their heads.
There, the black hem of a billowing cape came into view. It was none other than Vikir.
“Step aside.”
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca looked on in amazement.
“Vikir? How did you get here?”
However, Vikir remained silent. He only raised his bow.
“Vikir!? You’re here to help us?”
Although Tudor, who still had some strength left, attempted to question him, Vikir offered no
reply. Instead, he just nocked an arrow and drew the string.
Simultaneously…
With a thunderous burst, a fiery aura emanated from Vikir’s bow.
A red trail was etched across the sky as a single arrow flew.
Thud! Thud! Crumble!
The arrow shattered the head of the giant soldier ant charging toward them.
The shock was palpable among Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca.
***
A few minutes earlier, Vikir inspected the magical barrier surrounding the arena. He noticed
a small, furry creature hiding in a corner, baby madam. The creature was crying and seemed
insignificant to most people, but it had been detected by tlife reaction checking magic of the
magic stone.
“When I took the test, it didn’t detect any life response. Is it because the baby madam was too
hungry at the time?”
In an extremely malnourished state, the baby madam had ingested various poisons during
Vikir’s test, shedding its skin in the process. As a result, it had acquired a significant amount
of vitality and was now clearly detected by the magical life-sensing network of the magic
stone.
Vikir touched his face.
In the end, this whole incident had occurred because the baby madam had developed a strong
desire to eat more poison. It had noticed that its master, Vikir, had disappeared while it was
consuming poisons, which led to its current situation, hiding behind the magical barrier and
whimpering.
Far away, professors were bustling around.
“No, who will take responsibility for this?”
“Let’s start by dividing the responsibilities clearly!”
“That’s enough; dismantle the magical barrier! Hasn’t Professor Sadi contacted us yet?”
Even Dolores, who was worried about her younger classmates, glared at the professors.
This might end up causing an accident.
——————
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——————
Vikir shook his head. “Once the magical barrier is dismantled and the investigation begins,
they’ll discover the baby madam. That would be a problem.”
That’s why proper training for the spiderlings was necessary.
He moved out of the sight of the audience, heading towards the northwest corner of the
magical barrier.
Tss tss tss tss tss…
Vikir wore a Picaresque mask on his face.
He looked like a miniature black dog with pink paws and cute red eyes.
Hodaak-
After transforming into a dog, Vikir easily passed through the magical barrier to the inside.
He had been aware of the cracks at the southern edge of the magical barrier, thanks to his
regression and the triplets.
“Cracks exist at the lower part of the magical barrier’s southwestern side.”
The triplets, Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro, had accumulated many personal grudges
during their time at the academy.
They often suffered attacks even while taking exams in the arena. One time, an assassin had
burrowed into the arena, infiltrating the lower part of the magical barrier from the southwest.
Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro had been his targets.
Later, the professors somehow found the crack and probed it. It was a 7-meter-long tunnel
that went underground.
Anyway, once through the magical barrier, the rest was easy.
Vikir entered the magical barrier’s interior and searched for the crack.
“Then, the baby madam can be discovered once the magical barrier is dismantled.”
It seemed the baby madam needed better education.
Vikir decided that he would have to scold the baby madam when he got back.
He hurriedly moved towards the southwest part of the magical barrier, searching for the
crack.
Tss tss tss tss tss…
With his small dog-like body, he easily dug through the earth and entered the lower part of
the magical barrier.
“Heh, that’s the same as in the past.”
When he came out of the narrow tunnel, his body grew larger, and he screamed with horror at
the sudden increase in size in the tight tunnel. He used the strength of Styx’s strength and the
vast amount of mana to push away the dirt and make room for himself, forcing the earth to
give way. Breaking the stone floor of the arena, he emerged from the ground.
“…”
As he emerged from the ground, he saw that everything was covered in a green haze. It was
due to the paralysis poison emitted by the ant golems.
“If the poison fog is this dense, it would be difficult to look inside from the outside.”
Vikir felt fortunate that he couldn’t see the outside well beyond the magical barrier.
Since this side can’t see the outside, the same should apply to the outside as well. Vikir
thought, “Alright, then…”
Surrounded by the dense green toxic fog, Vikir’s first action was to retrieve the baby madam.
However, there was no need to go looking for it; it had come to him, whimpering and
immediately attaching itself to Vikir’s hand.
Rub rub – The baby madam seemed to be berating him for where he had been. Vikir couldn’t
help but frown at its audacious behavior.
“This cheeky little rascal.”
After retrieving the baby madam, Vikir decided to train it properly later.
For now, the most pressing issue was to rescue Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca.
Vikir confirmed that it was difficult to see inside from the outside due to the thick toxic fog.
He quickly nocked an arrow to his bow.
Even if it was just a supply bow and arrow, with Vikir’s skill in archery, combined with his
mana, would be enough to serve as a formidable siege weapon.
Pew pew pew kaboom! Vikir’s rapid shooting began to clear out the mass of ant monsters.
Once touched by Vikir’s arrows, no matter if they were worker ants or soldier ants, they were
instantly destroyed.
Vikir only had to shoot a few times, and an opening appeared ahead, where Tudor, Sancho,
Figgy, and Bianca could be seen.
“…Vikir?”
Tudor’s expression was as if he had seen a ghost. Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca were in similar
states.
Vikir approached his friends without a word.
“Everyone looks weak.”
Although he wanted to ask them to crawl through the tunnel, they appeared too exhausted
even to move. Especially Figgy, who seemed entirely powerless due to being poisoned by the
paralysis toxin.
In the meantime, the gigantic ant monsters began to surround Vikir.
Name: Carnage Ant (Worker Ant)
Danger Level: C
Size: 1m
Habitat: Large Colony Zones
Also known as “Worker Ant”
The most common form of Carnage Ant.
It serves as the frontline soldier, scout, assault unit, nanny, etc., performing various roles.
Armed with a tough chitinous exoskeleton and powerful mandibles, these are the warlike
colony-type demons that burrow deep from the human world to hell.
Name: Carnage Ant (Soldier Ant)
Danger Level: B+
Size: 5m
Habitat: Large Colony Zones
Also known as “Soldier Ant”
Some individuals among the discovered ants have undergone mutations, resulting in an even
more substantial build and a more robust exoskeleton.
Regarded as the ultimate manifestation of the Carnage Ant colony’s evolution, they are
seldom seen in ordinary ant nests but are typically found in super-sized ant nests or nests left
neglected for extended periods.
Amid countless worker ants, which would act like a giant pair of garden shears, the Carnage
Soldier Ants that could handle as many as 1,000 worker ants each were nestled.
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca confronted the vast army of ants, standing behind Vikir,
their faces filled with despair.
“Vikir! Don’t be reckless! We don’t stand a chance!”
“…And thanks for what you’ve done, but we’re done for.”
“Please, Vikir, at least you run away!”
“Idiot, you’re going to get yourself killed!”
Everyone showed an attitude bordering on resignation.
However, Vikir didn’t budge from where he stood.
He had only pulled an arrow back.
And then, almost immediately…
“…Huh?”
The expressions of everyone began to fill with astonishment and disbelief.
——————
Chapter 185 Random Defense in the Midterm Exam (7)
In the darkness, a child stood alone.
“Get out.”
The voice of a middle-aged man echoed.
It was a memory from a distant past, one the child couldn’t recall, and the voice was harsh
and chilling.
Next came the sad sobbing of a mother.
“Where did this wretched creature come from?”
“Doesn’t even know their place.”
“Kick them out immediately.”
“…Get rid of them.”
The murmurs of the surrounding people followed the sobbing.
Afterward, the child’s view changed repeatedly.
Running mother, a forest and mountains, pursuers, steep cliffs, rushing river, hungry wolves,
and the astonished faces of passing merchants and mercenaries.
Time passed, and so did memories.
A mother who had never smiled, always looking at the child with sadness.
Beside that mother, a stepfather who lavished comfort and love on the child, becoming the
sturdy pillar of the family.
With the child’s diligent efforts, combined with the money the father had saved all his life,
their cramped, dark, and repulsive house gradually expanded and brightened, becoming
warm.
The food that was once coarse and malodorous gradually transformed into something
delicious and warm.
This life, which had no reason to be envied, began anew.
The mother’s pride, the father’s hope.
For the sake of the mother, who had been burdened with unhappiness, and to bring happiness
to her, the child chose a path of challenge.
Enrolling in the Colosseo Academy.
Through the child’s tireless efforts and the savings the father had gathered over a lifetime, he
achieved the result of entering this place known for gathering the Empire’s greatest talents.
The mother worried excessively about the child, for he had entered a place where only the
Empire’s best were gathered.
The father was elated, handing over the money he had saved all his life, smiling every day.
The child thought they would adjust well to this place and wanted to make their parents
happy.
However, things weren’t going smoothly.
Upon entering the school, the child faced bullying, thanks to his characteristic timid
personality.
While at an ordinary school outside, the child had been a standout student with leadership,
vitality, and outstanding athletic performance, but here in the Colosseo, which gathered only
the Empire’s greatest talents, he was nothing more than an inferior student.
His intelligence was lacking compared to others, and he had difficulty with various exams,
causing the child to feel extreme frustration.
At the moment, he was in a desperate situation, as even his life was at stake.
In this situation, the child’s mind kept replaying the earliest memory and sound he could
recall.
“Get out. A wretch like you is not part of my bloodline.”
A hasty light.
In a situation where the mind and body were about to break down, the child barely held on to
his ego.
And at that moment…
“Now it’s okay.”
A voice from somewhere sounded.
It had an effect more significant than any magic in this world, erasing all the pain in the
child’s mind and body in an instant.
The agony of his birth, the guilt towards his parents, the sense of duty as a child, the burden
of studying, the loneliness of not making friends, the pain in his body – all of it disappeared
with one word.
It was the power of “friend’s comfort.”
“Ugh?”
The child opened his eyes, and the first thing they saw were three faces.
“Hey, Figgy! Are you all right, Figgy!? Breathe, Figgy! Breathe! Come on! Ugh! Don’t die!”
“Great! Figgy is breathing again! It must be because I gave him CPR…!”
“Sancho! Shut up and do mouth-to-mouth, quick! Bianca, You do the arms and legs!”
Tudor, Sancho, and Bianca. Friends were staring down at him, their faces smeared with tears
and snot.
Tudor was always in high spirits, so it was to be expected, but even Sancho and Bianca
crying was a bit unexpected.
Figgy coughed, pushing themselves up.
Their ribs felt like they’d been bent; maybe they were broken.
But even in that pain, Figgy moved their body and searched for someone.
“Where’s Vikir? What about Vikir?!”
Then Tudor, Sancho, and Bianca’s expressions subtly changed.
Soon, their gazes all converged at one place.
There…
——————
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——————
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Vikir could be seen shooting the ants with his bow like a madman.
***
‘Well, with the level of monsters, using expert-level strength should be enough.’ Vikir
thought as he pierced the skull of a soldier ant with a single shot.
There was no need to bring out the aura of a Peak Graduator. Because…
‘In the end, hunting soldier ants is all about the tactics.’
Vikir had thoroughly studied an undocumented ant-extermination method. Although referred
to as supply bows and arrows, when combined with Vikir’s mana, it could serve as a
formidable siege weapon.
Pew! Pew-pew-pew-pew!
Vikir’s arrow began to pick off the ants by the dozen.
Whether they were worker ants or soldier ants, once they were hit by Vikir’s arrows, they
were instantly obliterated.
Vikir cleared the way with minimal effort, he could see Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca
sitting there with blank expressions.
“…Vikir?”
Tudor’s expression was ghostly, as if he had seen a ghost.
Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca had similar reactions.
Vikir approached his friends without saying a word.
A swarm of Carnage ants swarmed around Vikir and targeted him.
But Vikir stayed calm and shot an arrow into the ant’s thoracic plate, the area between its
head and chest.
Surprisingly, the destroyed ants begin to move backwards instead of forwards.
The ants that had been swarming forward began to walk backward, causing great confusion
in the swarm.
As Vikir watched, he realized that the golem was an exquisite imitation of a real Carnage ant.
It must have been created by a skilled mage.
‘Carnage ants have a bio-compass right there. If it breaks, it’s over.’
This is a method of dealing with these monsters that humans don’t know about right now, and
won’t be discovered for another 20 years.
Before Vikir’s regression, humanity was puzzling over how the Carnage ants could find their
way back home from so long a distance.
If they could figure it out, it would be a great way to bring back warriors who had fallen in
the fight against demons.
And after countless years of tireless research, humans eventually figured it out.
Carnage ants were known to find their way around by spraying pheromones or memorizing
the shape of major landforms, but that didn’t explain their ability to find their way home after
a storm washed away the pheromones or an earthquake altered the landscape.
It has now been confirmed that even baby ants that have just left the nest for the first time are
able to find their way home.
In fact, the Carnage ants’ ability to navigate so precisely is due to a magnetic field compass
built into their bodies.
No matter where they are, they can calculate exactly where they stand, where they want to
go, and how many steps they need to take by integrating a complex function of mana along
the way.
This extremely precise bio-compass, which can even detect polarization – the rotation of the
direction of the force field when sunlight hits it – keeps the Carnage ants pointed in the right
direction at all times.
And then.
Poof! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!
Vikir wasn’t killing the ants, he was just picking out and destroying their bio-compasses.
The Carnage ants, with their broken sense of direction, ran backward, blocking the path of
those behind them.
‘What’s next… Is it a soldier ant?’
Vikir raised his head and gazed at the massive ants in front of him.
How could he have forgotten those murderous, heavily armored beasts?
Vikir slowly started thinking about his past life.
Great Colony’s Battle, with so many casualties. That terrifying nightmare in the anthill.
The monsters had taken advantage of the worker ants’ weaknesses and turned the tide of
battle in an instant, perplexing the victorious Allied forces.
‘If you go down into the anthill, into the Catacombs, they scurry around like regular ants,
though I’m not sure if they still exist today.’
The soldier ant is a dangerous creature and they swarm.
It’s so strong that even Peak Sword Experts can’t fight it 1 on 1.
But of course, even such a beast has its weaknesses.
Just as you can trap Cerberus or hounds with chocolate, you can trap a soldier ant with a
trick.
“You just have to find the right point.”
Vikir focused his attention on the arrow.
He needed to concentrate even more since he only had to use the aura of a Mid-tier to High-
Tier Sword Expert.
Of course, the gas aura used by an Expert and the gas aura used by a Graduator are on a
different level in terms of their proficiency.
The same bread knife wielded by a child and an experienced chef will produce different
results.
Shhh-
Vikir’s gas aura flies in a dark red trajectory, like a cherry at the end of an arrow.
And it goes.
peo-eog!
It pierced right through the center of the soldier ant’s head, instantly knocking the giant
monster to the ground.
‘The soldier ants are so realistic.’
Vikir smiled faintly at the sight of his single arrow.
‘Their skull, which is broad and flat like a shield and specialized for headbutting, is their
strength.
Everyone knows this.
But paradoxically, few realize that the creature’s weakness lies in its skull.
This sneaky ant hides its weaknesses in what should be its greatest strength.
“The powerful skull encloses the left and right brains, separately. The only weaknesses are
the connecting hippocampus and the cartilage that covers it.
The skull of the soldier ant is divided into two pieces, with the connecting link at the bottom
of the center.
That soft carapace, about half the size of your little fingernail, is the vital area.
When an ant is pierced in this location, the coordination system between the left and right
brains collapses and the ant dies, literally splitting in half’.
The ant’s body is still intact, but the neural and sensory networks have been destroyed, and it
now lies motionless.
Vikir continued to fire arrows at the dead soldier ants while stepping over them.
His appearance was that of a veteran soldier who had spent decades on the battlefield, and he
was truly a military god, with the aura of a Sword Expert.
…Puck! …Puck! …Puck!
The ants continue to die from the flying arrows.
By now, far more were being crushed by their fellows than by Vikir’s arrows.
With their bio-compasses broken, the ants started to run backward, and the monster waves
were stifled by the soldier ants.
Furthermore, the baby madam was inhaling the paralyzing poison spewed by the ants, so it’s
no surprise that the poisonous fog was concentrated around Vikir.
Vikir used the soldier ant’s carcasses as a rampart, annihilating the ants in front of him, and
when he ran out of arrows, he moved forward to retrieve the ones in front of him.
He’d then climb up a soldier ant’s body in front of him and kill another, and another, and
another.
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca, who were watching from the rear, muttered in a daze.
“…This isn’t a dream, is it?”
The third phase, the one that even third-year seniors struggle with, had already passed.
…But.
[Map: Carnage Ant Colony ‘Impure Anthill’]
Join forces with your comrades to fend off the attacking Carnage Ants!
Time remaining until the end of Phase 3: 0 minutes, 0 seconds.
1. Vikir
HP: 100/100
Kill point: 968
Assist point: 5,321
Vikir didn’t just hold his own, he destroyed all the record ever created.
——————
Chapter 185 Random Defense in the Midterm Exam (7)
In the darkness, a child stood alone.
“Get out.”
The voice of a middle-aged man echoed.
It was a memory from a distant past, one the child couldn’t recall, and the voice was harsh
and chilling.
Next came the sad sobbing of a mother.
“Where did this wretched creature come from?”
“Doesn’t even know their place.”
“Kick them out immediately.”
“…Get rid of them.”
The murmurs of the surrounding people followed the sobbing.
Afterward, the child’s view changed repeatedly.
Running mother, a forest and mountains, pursuers, steep cliffs, rushing river, hungry wolves,
and the astonished faces of passing merchants and mercenaries.
Time passed, and so did memories.
A mother who had never smiled, always looking at the child with sadness.
Beside that mother, a stepfather who lavished comfort and love on the child, becoming the
sturdy pillar of the family.
With the child’s diligent efforts, combined with the money the father had saved all his life,
their cramped, dark, and repulsive house gradually expanded and brightened, becoming
warm.
The food that was once coarse and malodorous gradually transformed into something
delicious and warm.
This life, which had no reason to be envied, began anew.
The mother’s pride, the father’s hope.
For the sake of the mother, who had been burdened with unhappiness, and to bring happiness
to her, the child chose a path of challenge.
Enrolling in the Colosseo Academy.
Through the child’s tireless efforts and the savings the father had gathered over a lifetime, he
achieved the result of entering this place known for gathering the Empire’s greatest talents.
The mother worried excessively about the child, for he had entered a place where only the
Empire’s best were gathered.
The father was elated, handing over the money he had saved all his life, smiling every day.
The child thought they would adjust well to this place and wanted to make their parents
happy.
However, things weren’t going smoothly.
Upon entering the school, the child faced bullying, thanks to his characteristic timid
personality.
While at an ordinary school outside, the child had been a standout student with leadership,
vitality, and outstanding athletic performance, but here in the Colosseo, which gathered only
the Empire’s greatest talents, he was nothing more than an inferior student.
His intelligence was lacking compared to others, and he had difficulty with various exams,
causing the child to feel extreme frustration.
At the moment, he was in a desperate situation, as even his life was at stake.
In this situation, the child’s mind kept replaying the earliest memory and sound he could
recall.
“Get out. A wretch like you is not part of my bloodline.”
A hasty light.
In a situation where the mind and body were about to break down, the child barely held on to
his ego.
And at that moment…
“Now it’s okay.”
A voice from somewhere sounded.
It had an effect more significant than any magic in this world, erasing all the pain in the
child’s mind and body in an instant.
The agony of his birth, the guilt towards his parents, the sense of duty as a child, the burden
of studying, the loneliness of not making friends, the pain in his body – all of it disappeared
with one word.
It was the power of “friend’s comfort.”
“Ugh?”
The child opened his eyes, and the first thing they saw were three faces.
“Hey, Figgy! Are you all right, Figgy!? Breathe, Figgy! Breathe! Come on! Ugh! Don’t die!”
“Great! Figgy is breathing again! It must be because I gave him CPR…!”
“Sancho! Shut up and do mouth-to-mouth, quick! Bianca, You do the arms and legs!”
Tudor, Sancho, and Bianca. Friends were staring down at him, their faces smeared with tears
and snot.
Tudor was always in high spirits, so it was to be expected, but even Sancho and Bianca
crying was a bit unexpected.
Figgy coughed, pushing themselves up.
Their ribs felt like they’d been bent; maybe they were broken.
But even in that pain, Figgy moved their body and searched for someone.
“Where’s Vikir? What about Vikir?!”
Then Tudor, Sancho, and Bianca’s expressions subtly changed.
Soon, their gazes all converged at one place.
There…
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
Join our Discord for release updates!
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——————
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Vikir could be seen shooting the ants with his bow like a madman.
***
‘Well, with the level of monsters, using expert-level strength should be enough.’ Vikir
thought as he pierced the skull of a soldier ant with a single shot.
There was no need to bring out the aura of a Peak Graduator. Because…
‘In the end, hunting soldier ants is all about the tactics.’
Vikir had thoroughly studied an undocumented ant-extermination method. Although referred
to as supply bows and arrows, when combined with Vikir’s mana, it could serve as a
formidable siege weapon.
Pew! Pew-pew-pew-pew!
Vikir’s arrow began to pick off the ants by the dozen.
Whether they were worker ants or soldier ants, once they were hit by Vikir’s arrows, they
were instantly obliterated.
Vikir cleared the way with minimal effort, he could see Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca
sitting there with blank expressions.
“…Vikir?”
Tudor’s expression was ghostly, as if he had seen a ghost.
Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca had similar reactions.
Vikir approached his friends without saying a word.
A swarm of Carnage ants swarmed around Vikir and targeted him.
But Vikir stayed calm and shot an arrow into the ant’s thoracic plate, the area between its
head and chest.
Surprisingly, the destroyed ants begin to move backwards instead of forwards.
The ants that had been swarming forward began to walk backward, causing great confusion
in the swarm.
As Vikir watched, he realized that the golem was an exquisite imitation of a real Carnage ant.
It must have been created by a skilled mage.
‘Carnage ants have a bio-compass right there. If it breaks, it’s over.’
This is a method of dealing with these monsters that humans don’t know about right now, and
won’t be discovered for another 20 years.
Before Vikir’s regression, humanity was puzzling over how the Carnage ants could find their
way back home from so long a distance.
If they could figure it out, it would be a great way to bring back warriors who had fallen in
the fight against demons.
And after countless years of tireless research, humans eventually figured it out.
Carnage ants were known to find their way around by spraying pheromones or memorizing
the shape of major landforms, but that didn’t explain their ability to find their way home after
a storm washed away the pheromones or an earthquake altered the landscape.
It has now been confirmed that even baby ants that have just left the nest for the first time are
able to find their way home.
In fact, the Carnage ants’ ability to navigate so precisely is due to a magnetic field compass
built into their bodies.
No matter where they are, they can calculate exactly where they stand, where they want to
go, and how many steps they need to take by integrating a complex function of mana along
the way.
This extremely precise bio-compass, which can even detect polarization – the rotation of the
direction of the force field when sunlight hits it – keeps the Carnage ants pointed in the right
direction at all times.
And then.
Poof! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!
Vikir wasn’t killing the ants, he was just picking out and destroying their bio-compasses.
The Carnage ants, with their broken sense of direction, ran backward, blocking the path of
those behind them.
‘What’s next… Is it a soldier ant?’
Vikir raised his head and gazed at the massive ants in front of him.
How could he have forgotten those murderous, heavily armored beasts?
Vikir slowly started thinking about his past life.
Great Colony’s Battle, with so many casualties. That terrifying nightmare in the anthill.
The monsters had taken advantage of the worker ants’ weaknesses and turned the tide of
battle in an instant, perplexing the victorious Allied forces.
‘If you go down into the anthill, into the Catacombs, they scurry around like regular ants,
though I’m not sure if they still exist today.’
The soldier ant is a dangerous creature and they swarm.
It’s so strong that even Peak Sword Experts can’t fight it 1 on 1.
But of course, even such a beast has its weaknesses.
Just as you can trap Cerberus or hounds with chocolate, you can trap a soldier ant with a
trick.
“You just have to find the right point.”
Vikir focused his attention on the arrow.
He needed to concentrate even more since he only had to use the aura of a Mid-tier to High-
Tier Sword Expert.
Of course, the gas aura used by an Expert and the gas aura used by a Graduator are on a
different level in terms of their proficiency.
The same bread knife wielded by a child and an experienced chef will produce different
results.
Shhh-
Vikir’s gas aura flies in a dark red trajectory, like a cherry at the end of an arrow.
And it goes.
peo-eog!
It pierced right through the center of the soldier ant’s head, instantly knocking the giant
monster to the ground.
‘The soldier ants are so realistic.’
Vikir smiled faintly at the sight of his single arrow.
‘Their skull, which is broad and flat like a shield and specialized for headbutting, is their
strength.
Everyone knows this.
But paradoxically, few realize that the creature’s weakness lies in its skull.
This sneaky ant hides its weaknesses in what should be its greatest strength.
“The powerful skull encloses the left and right brains, separately. The only weaknesses are
the connecting hippocampus and the cartilage that covers it.
The skull of the soldier ant is divided into two pieces, with the connecting link at the bottom
of the center.
That soft carapace, about half the size of your little fingernail, is the vital area.
When an ant is pierced in this location, the coordination system between the left and right
brains collapses and the ant dies, literally splitting in half’.
The ant’s body is still intact, but the neural and sensory networks have been destroyed, and it
now lies motionless.
Vikir continued to fire arrows at the dead soldier ants while stepping over them.
His appearance was that of a veteran soldier who had spent decades on the battlefield, and he
was truly a military god, with the aura of a Sword Expert.
…Puck! …Puck! …Puck!
The ants continue to die from the flying arrows.
By now, far more were being crushed by their fellows than by Vikir’s arrows.
With their bio-compasses broken, the ants started to run backward, and the monster waves
were stifled by the soldier ants.
Furthermore, the baby madam was inhaling the paralyzing poison spewed by the ants, so it’s
no surprise that the poisonous fog was concentrated around Vikir.
Vikir used the soldier ant’s carcasses as a rampart, annihilating the ants in front of him, and
when he ran out of arrows, he moved forward to retrieve the ones in front of him.
He’d then climb up a soldier ant’s body in front of him and kill another, and another, and
another.
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca, who were watching from the rear, muttered in a daze.
“…This isn’t a dream, is it?”
The third phase, the one that even third-year seniors struggle with, had already passed.
…But.
[Map: Carnage Ant Colony ‘Impure Anthill’]
Join forces with your comrades to fend off the attacking Carnage Ants!
Time remaining until the end of Phase 3: 0 minutes, 0 seconds.
1. Vikir
HP: 100/100
Kill point: 968
Assist point: 5,321
Vikir didn’t just hold his own, he destroyed all the record ever created.
——————
Chapter 186: Aftermath (Part 1)
It was only later that Professor Sadi, who had the B key, was discovered.
She had been found in a drunken state in a back alley bar outside the academy, only because
the barkeep had reported her for vandalism and disturbing the peace.
Professor Banshee Morg, glared and looked down on Professor Sadi as she was brought in.
“Recover the key immediately. And open the magic barrier.”
With that, the situation was finally resolved. The rescue took 42 minutes and 13 seconds. By
the time the magic barrier was dismantled, and the professors hurriedly entered, everything
had already been concluded.
The professors did not want to publicly announce the delay due to their jurisdiction and
liability disputes, so they exaggerated Vikir’s heroic actions even more to promote them.
Articles about how it could have been the worst disaster were swept under the rug, and all the
focus was on the most heroic first-year student in the history of the academy.
Meanwhile, Vikir responded briefly to the flood of interview requests.
“It’s the result of my friends all working together.”
People inside the stadium couldn’t see what was happening because of the poisonous mist
that filled it. However, those who were rescued late, such as Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and
Bianca, gathered and spoke honestly about Vikir’s heroic actions, giving a rough idea of what
had happened.
On the other hand, Vikir’s strength reaching the level of a High-Tier Sword Expert roiled the
campus once more. It was also interesting to see how he managed to clear the defense game
with this power, which was far from enough to defeat the countless carnage ants.
Vikir willingly revealed the secret.
“You can refer to my midterm written exam answer sheet for that.”
The midterm exam was divided into practical and written parts. The practical part consisted
of defense games and attack games, while the written part included free research and essay
exams.
Vikir chose a report on the extermination strategy of carnage ants as his free research topic,
where he described the weaknesses of worker ants and soldier ants.
Carnage ants’ magical field detection biocompass and soldier ants’ vital point in the skull.
This information could be extremely beneficial to the Imperial Army, which was currently on
its way to subdue demons.
It was a groundbreaking strategy that could significantly reduce the death rate of ordinary
soldiers and mercenaries who couldn’t use magic.
A new strategy against the lower-level demons that had caused the most damage to humanity.
After this was announced, not only the academy, but the entire empire began to buzz with
excitement.
As a result:
“Who is Vikir? Our commander wants to meet him.”
“The Crown Prince has sent a commendation letter.”
“The head of the Monster Research Institute really wants to meet him…”
Within the academy, there were hardly any people who didn’t know Vikir.
***
The night sky. The dormitory’s quiet rooftop at night.
[Exclusive] The Hottest Star of the Year – Vikir, Who Is He!? / Views: 129,872
– A male student’s heroic actions during the practical assessment of the Cold Department
around 11 a.m. yesterday… The person who received the commendation is the 1st-year
freshman Vikir (18) who just entered this year… He dug a tunnel and jumped into the
poisonous mist to save his four friends in a critical situation… and became a living legend…
In addition, he made a significant contribution by discovering a strategy for the previously
unknown ‘carnage ants’… When Vikir’s achievements were converted into practical
assessment points, they amounted to an astounding 9,889 points, setting a new record in
history… As a result, Vikir is receiving meeting invitations and love calls from celebrities
such as the Crown Prince, the academy’s headmaster, the head of the Monster Research
Institute, the commander of the Western Front, and various guild masters… On the other
hand, thanks to Vikir’s actions, the academy discovered a hole in the magic barrier and
contacted the Emergency Measures Committee… The academy expressed deep regret over
the unfortunate incident and proposed measures to prevent similar incidents in the future and
repair the crack in the magic barrier…
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st-year): Wow; I thought Vikir was just good at studying, but he’s a
High-Tier Expert!ㄷㄷㄷ
ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 2nd-year): ㅇㅇ, I also saw it at the scene that day. But I couldn’t see
much because of the poisonous mist.ㅠㅠ
ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st-year): Haha ㅋㅋㅋ The hype is too much~~^^ Typical star-
making~~
↳ ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st-year): If you didn’t see it in person, then it doesn’t count.
↳ ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 1st-year): If even the Crown Prince is looking for him, it’s definitely
real, right…?
↳ ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st-year): He’s a commoner, so what’s with the fame?ㅋㅋㅋ
↳ ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st-year): Rumor has it that there’s a royal in the 20th year class…
Could it be him??
↳ ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 1st-year): No way…
↳ ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 2nd-year): No way…
ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st-year): Is it true that he got 9889 points??? And he set that record
all by himself???
↳ ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st-year): But he knew the strategy~
↳ ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 3rd-year): But no matter what, that’s too amazing;;;;
↳ ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 3rd-year): Can a group of 4 from the graduating class even achieve
that score…?
↳ ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 4th-year): It is possible. I now understand the strategy as well.
ㅋㅋㅋ
↳ ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 3rd-year): You know the story of Columbus’s egg, right? The
beginning is difficult, but after that, it’s easy~
ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st-year): He’s going to be a superstar from tomorrow on ㅋㅋㅋ I
should get his autograph in advance.
.
.
Kkukgit-
Vikir crumpled the newspaper.
‘…This is unbelievable.’
In just a few tens of minutes, he had become a celebrity within the school.
It seemed like he was moving further away from his original intentions with each passing
moment.
“It’s all because of you.”
Vikir furrowed his brow and looked at the baby madam who was hanging from the rooftop
railing.
[Squawk-squawk-squawk-]
However, baby madam, who had just devoured her fill of poison after a long wait, laid down,
seemingly pleased, and showed her belly to Vikir.
Vikir sighed and scratched baby madam’s belly.
Then, it arrived.
With a flap of its wings, a white owl flew across the night sky and landed on the railing in
front of Vikir. It was the letter from CindiWendy, right on time.
Fluttering-
Vikir reached for the letter tied to the owl’s leg and began to read it.
The letter was encrypted, making it impossible to decipher if they receiver wasn’t Vikir. It
contained three pieces of information in order of importance.
1. The Ten Corpses. Information acquired. The analysis will take time. One month.
2. Night Hound. Two impersonators emerged. One for praise, the purpose of the other is
unknown.
3. Osiris Le Baskerville. Left house. Estimated to be heading for the capital.
The interpretation of the core keywords indicated that the three pieces of information were
arranged in order of importance.
The first piece of information was about the ten supreme demons Vikir was pursuing (now
eight). CindiWendy seemed to have found a clue about the third demon Vikir was chasing.
“However, she’s quite cautious, so it’ll take a month to verify the information.”
But the reliability of the information was equally high.
Vikir decided to wait patiently because he had realized that facing a supreme demon at
master level in a one-on-one battle was difficult after the previous incident with Dantalian.
‘Until then, I need to diligently improve my skills.’
Vikir decided to use his Night Hound persona more often. There’s nothing better for skill
improvement than real-world experience.
…But.
‘An impersonator, huh?’
The second piece of information took a bit longer.
Two impersonators. Vikir already had some suspicions about this matter.
It was because of a recent newspaper article.
[Special Report] Night Hound, Another Shocking Incident!? / Views: 74,609
Yesterday morning at around 1 a.m., the Night Hound started another round of terror. The
target of destruction was the “Central Clock Tower,” a landmark of the imperial capital with
a long history, which not only symbolizes imperial power but also embodies the standards of
the Empire’s order. On the other hand, the number of casualties from this latest terror
incident… The royal family has declared that they will use every means necessary to bring
this heinous criminal to the gallows.
[Exclusive] The Worst Villain “Night Hound,” How Far Does Their Malice Go? / Views:
89,269
Another major incident has been caused by the Night Hound. After destroying the “Central
Clock Tower,” the Night Hound annihilated the “Royal Shrine,” a sacred place where the
heroes and great warriors who unified the Empire rest. The attack on this location is
tantamount to a declaration of war against the entire Empire, if not all of humanity… On the
other hand, the number of people injured or killed in this latest terror attack is incalculable.
By the way, the times mentioned in the newspaper article were when Vikir was in the middle
of writing the report for his midterm exam.
The things Vikir hadn’t done had been disguised as the deeds of the Night Hound..
“…Ah, this imitator…”
An imitator refers to someone who imitates the criminal actions of a well-known criminal
when they gain notoriety. The reasons for imitation vary from admiration, solidarity, support,
rivalry, covering up a crime, and more, but even CindiWendy seemed to have not yet
accurately grasped the imitator’s needs.
Vikir swept his chin with his hand.
As the notoriety of the night stalker continued to grow, he expected people to imitate him.
Most imitators were just small-time criminals who would be arrested quickly, so he didn’t
pay much attention to them. However, the two imitators mentioned in the newspaper article
and CindiWendy’s letter were different.
They seemed to have significant resources, and their caution was equally remarkable. It was
clear that the two imitators mentioned by CindiWendy were likely the same as the culprits the
newspaper article was pointing to.
The appearance of two strong and cunning villains at the same time was not a comforting
sight for Vikir. It not only increased the royal family’s vigilance but could also intersect with
his activities.
“… I should go and check out the scene once. Find out who these guys are.”
Vikir finished reading the letter.
Other than that, there was information about the Young Lord of Baskerville, Osiris Le
Baskerville, who was also Hugo’s eldest son, having left his family home. However, Vikir
had no particular interest in this matter.
Vikir ignited an aura on the tip of his fingernail and burned the letter, letting the ashes be
carried away by the wind.
Just then, as he leaned against the rooftop railing and read the newspaper, a voice caught
Vikir’s attention.
“… B-Big brother?”
Vikir slowly turned his head.
A familiar short haircut, silver hair fluttering in the night breeze, shining brightly under the
galaxy.
Sinclaire. The leader of the Hot Department.
Considering the place and time, it was quite an unexpected encounter.
——————
Chapter 187 Aftermath (2)
“…Big Brother?”
A makeup-free face, and silver hair that was still faintly scented with shampoo.
Sinclaire. A commoner with just a name, but a female student who holds the top position in
the Hot Department specializing in magic with overwhelming academic achievements.
“….”
Instead of answering, Vikir raised one eyebrow.
Considering the place and time, it was a somewhat unexpected encounter.
Why is she here at this time and in this place?
The question was soon answered.
“Big Brother, do you know about this place? It’s a famous spot to look at the stars.”
With a wide smile, Sinclaire handed something to Vikir. It was a small can of beer.
Tss-
Sinclaire poured the beer and hurriedly took a sip of the foam.
Suddenly, a white beard grew on Sinclaire’s face, and she chuckled as she handed a beer to
Vikir as well.
“I had two cans, but you can have one.”
“Thank you.”
After some hesitation, Vikir accepted the beer.
“I had no idea I’d meet you here at this time. I assumed this was a place only I knew about.
When I’m feeling down, I come here to gaze at the stars.”
Saying that, Sinclaire suddenly seemed to be in a better mood.
It seemed like something had clicked in her mind.
However, at that moment, Vikir was thinking something completely different.
“…This place is dangerous. I should change the meeting place with CindiWendy from now
on.”
A woman who now thinks, ‘Can I meet him more often if I come to this place?’
And a man who thinks, ‘I shouldn’t come to this place again.’
It was quite an ironic situation.
Then, Sinclaire, who had set down the beer can, showed interest in the owl sitting next to
Vikir.
“An owl? How cute. Did it bring a letter?”
[Hoo-hoo.]
“Ahahaha, it’s crying in a peculiar way.”
Sinclaire gently stroked the owl’s round head.
Then she turned to Vikir and asked, “Did you get a letter?”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“….”
Vikir didn’t know what to call CindiWendy, so he remained silent.
Upon this, Sinclaire’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s a girl, right?”
A greenish ribbon, the same color as CindiWendy’s hair, was attached to the owl’s head.
Since CindiWendy was a girl, Vikir just nodded quietly.
In response, Sinclaire’s expression stiffened slightly.
“Wow, look at this, Big brother is involved in a school romance. Do you think you can
maintain your grades while dating? Are you happy? Well, among the freshmen, who doesn’t
have a romance fantasies, right…?”
“It’s not like that.”
Vikir cut short Sinclaire’s words.
Sinclaire momentarily paused, as if she were at a loss, but then she sighed as if she suddenly
felt relieved.
It was a subtle sigh, as if she were feeling relieved.
“Big Brother, if this is a secret relationship, I’ll be disappointed. We can tell each other about
this, right? We’re best friends. Should you tell me in case it’s like that? Seriously!”
…Best friends? Vikir didn’t understand the meaning of the word, but he didn’t bother to ask.
Sinclaire continued to talk about various things on her own after that.
Normally, when she was at school, she wasn’t the type to talk this much, so Vikir was a bit
surprised.
Sinclaire, who had already consumed about half of her beer, suddenly seemed to remember
something and opened her mouth.
“Oh right. Big Brother, what’s your relationship with the student council president?”
When she referred to the student council president, she meant Dolores.
If she asked about the relationship between him and Dolores, Vikir could confidently answer
with one word.
“No relation.”
“Eh, it doesn’t seem like that.”
Sinclaire squinted her eyes and lightly nudged Vikir’s side with her elbow.
“It’s not related at all, but the student council president has been looking for you for the past
few days?”
“?”
Vikir’s eyes widened in surprise.
Why is the student council president looking for him?
And lately, there have been too many meetings. The principal, the chairman, the commander,
the director, the crown prince, and whatnot… Why are all these ‘Big-Wigs’ looking for me so
much? It’s stressing me out.
“…Not to mention that I don’t even have time to study.”
The fact that CindiWendy said it would take about a month for her to analyze the information
was considered a blessing in disguise.
Sinclaire shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but the student council president has been
looking for you lately.”
“In that case, when she came to the archery ground, was she looking for me?”
“Huh? I saw her, but why didn’t you meet her?”
“…Our paths didn’t cross.”
Vikir, who couldn’t say that he turned into a dog, hid, and then ran away to avoid being
neutered, gave a vague answer.
Sinclaire emptied her beer while wiping away the foam from her lips with her thumb.
Phew—
The unique scent of dark beer spread through the night sky.
She leaned against the railing and rested her chin on her hand, looking somewhat weary.
“I’m jealous.”
“?”
Vikir just raised an eyebrow, still nodding his head.
Sinclaire smiled with a slight grin as she swept away the foam from her lips.
“You’re always like that.”
“?”
“Not asking first. That’s my style.”
Vikir lightly chuckled at Sinclaire’s words.
Was it because he was born as a hunting dog and raised as a hunting dog that he was not used
to questioning someone? Waiting quietly for the owner to speak first. That was the virtue of a
hunting dog.
Was he tired of always being approached and talked to first?
Vikir’s attitude seemed different to Sinclaire.
“I said I was jealous… I just said it because I’m envious of you, Big Brother.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. We’re in the same year, but the gap is enormous.”
Sinclaire looked at Vikir with a strange look.
Ranked first in written exams, and he had already presented several research papers that
would turn the academic world upside down as a first-year undergraduate student. A
monstrous archer that far exceeded the level of an ordinary first-year undergraduate.
The level of an ordinary first-year undergraduate might be like this, for example.
-Professor: Today, I’ll lecture on how to eat salmon deliciously.
-1st Year Undergraduate 1: Wow! What’s salmon?
-1st Year Undergraduate 2: Can you eat salmon?
-1st Year Undergraduate 3: What’s a salmon?
And by the time they were about to graduate in the fourth year, they might have changed
slightly.
-Professor: Today, I’ll lecture on how to eat salmon deliciously.
-4th Year Undergraduate 1: …
-Professor: …
-4th Year Undergraduate 1: …
-Professor: What are you doing? You didn’t bring the salmon.
The depth of the subjects they were dealing with was in a different dimension for first-year
and fourth-year students. But Vikir had already surpassed the level of an undergraduate and a
graduate student.
What about practical skills?
Vikir, who had been suspected of not even being a Low-Tier Expert, showed his High-Tier
Expert skills.
This was an extraordinary level that was hard to imagine for someone from a commoner
background. He was on par with the top students from the seven great clans, or perhaps even
surpassing them.
“Written exams, practical skills, you’re a man who intimidates your classmates in many
ways, Big Brother.”
“…”
“I heard you’ve been having a lot of meetings with celebrities who are one or two generations
above you. Everyone’s jealous.”
But Vikir was well aware.
“…”
Money? Power? Honor? All of those superficial things would become worthless in the era of
destruction that was about to begin. When that time comes, all the existing orders will
collapse, and all values will be reversed.
As a great author once said, it would soon be the era of “a joke where survival is vulgar.”
“All of these are meaningless.”
Sinclaire looked at Vikir with raised eyebrows once again.
“Sometimes, when I see you, Big Brother, it feels like you’re not of this world.”
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
Join our Discord for release updates!
https://discord.com/invite/dbdMDhzWa2
——————
Those words made Vikir slightly embarrassed. Sinclaire laughed heartily again.
“I mean sometimes, you sound like an old man. Who would consider you an 18-year-old? So,
what do you think? How about escaping this world?”
With a slight twist, the empty beer can crumpled.
Sinclaire placed it in her palm and summoned mana.
Crackle!
A white flame emerged due to the iron attribute mana and transformed the beer can into a
new shape.
A rabbit-shaped pocket watch, an intricately crafted metal figurine, appeared in Sinclaire’s
palm.
“By the way, have you heard the rumor?”
Sinclaire fiddled with the rabbit figurine as she spoke.
“This time, among the students of the 20th year, a royal has enrolled.”
“They might just be rumors…” Vikir said
“…Hmm, who knows?”
Sinclaire replied with a somewhat puzzled tone.
“If they are royalty, their talents must be extraordinary. After all, they are from the bloodline
of the former Emperor, who was a great prophet, so they must be different from their peers,
right?”
“…”
“They’ll probably live their life in disguise to hide their abilities, especially not to stand out
too much from the beginning of the semester. It’s the only way they can justify hiding their
identity. Maybe they’re recruiting talent to be by their side? That’s what I think.”
“…”
“But they can’t hide their skills in an emergency. For example, if their close friends were in
danger during an exam.”
“Enough.”
Vikir once again dismissed Sinclaire’s words.
“I am not a royal.”
“…I never said you were a royal..”
“?”
Vikir raised an eyebrow.
Sinclaire just smiled softly. Her demeanor reminded Vikir of something.
‘Come to think of it, Sinclaire, this woman was an enigmatic figure even in the past, wasn’t
she?’
Vikir recalled his memories from before the regression.
After graduating from the academy, Sinclaire lost contact with all her peers, juniors, and
seniors. She disappeared from the world and history forever.
Before the regression, even HighBro, MiddleBro, and LowBro, who were quite aged,
sometimes chatted about her.
“Wonder what Sinclaire is up to by now.”
“That girl who didn’t miss a day as the top student of the Hot Department. She’s probably
doing well wherever she is.”
“Where did she come from, and where did she go?”
While reminiscing about her outstanding grades and achievements at the academy.
…While Vikir was lost in various thoughts.
“By the way, Big Brother, what are you planning to do after the midterms are over?”
Sinclaire asked again.
“After the midterms, we get a week of vacation, right? Do you have any plans for that time?”
“I do.”
“What is it?”
“Upper body and lower body exercises, and archery practice.”
“…Besides training and exercise.”
Sinclaire extended her lips with a pout and then continued.
“If you have some free time, why don’t you come over to my house? Let’s have a meal.”
Sinclaire’s invitation was somewhat unexpected. Vikir raised an eyebrow. When he thought
about it, Sinclaire had made a similar proposal to him in the past.
It was during their time volunteering at an orphanage. They were collecting donations for a
charitable act for parentless children. Sinclaire had asked him if he would contribute.
“Brother. Aren’t you contributing any money?”
“…I don’t have any money.”
He had genuinely had no money at the time. Vikir decided not to accept any support from
Baskerville. He wasn’t accepting CindiWendy’s financial support either. It would raise
unnecessary suspicions given his commoner disguise. Nevertheless, Sinclaire had given him
an odd look back then.
“Money? Why don’t you have any money? You’re a student at the academy. Isn’t that a bit
too harsh? These children here don’t have parents, unfortunately. We should help them.”
“Parents, I see no need for such a thing.”
“Huh?”
“After all, the world is something you must overcome with your own strength. The presence
of ‘parents’ is only needed in the early stages of life when external help is essential. It
becomes unnecessary otherwise.”
Vikir’s perspective hadn’t changed between then and now. Why did the orphans have it so
tough? They had everything they needed—essential nutrients, proper education, and a safe
environment. They were better off than being raised as hunting dogs in Baskerville. In his
view, they led happier and more comfortable lives.
To Vikir, ‘parents’ were just a functional role, and that view was consistent with his life at
Baskerville and the ‘Era of Destruction’ he had experienced during his first life.
But those who had and hadn’t experienced war couldn’t understand each other, and Vikir
knew that. He didn’t expect anything.
However,
“Got it? You must come.”
Sinclaire was looking at Vikir with a newfound seriousness, far from her usual curious and
lively demeanor. Her expression was more weighty and poignant. It was as if she understood
and empathized with Vikir.
As before.
“Well then, I have to go to work now!”
Sinclaire placed something on the table in front of Vikir and walked towards the rooftop exit.
Vikir raised his head in amazement.
Sinclaire just waved with a gentle smile. Finally,
…Bang!
The rooftop door closed.
“…”
Vikir turned his head and looked at the object that Sinclaire had left behind.
On it, a small rabbit holding a pocket watch was looking intently at Vikir.
——————
Chapter 187 Aftermath (2)
“…Big Brother?”
A makeup-free face, and silver hair that was still faintly scented with shampoo.
Sinclaire. A commoner with just a name, but a female student who holds the top position in
the Hot Department specializing in magic with overwhelming academic achievements.
“….”
Instead of answering, Vikir raised one eyebrow.
Considering the place and time, it was a somewhat unexpected encounter.
Why is she here at this time and in this place?
The question was soon answered.
“Big Brother, do you know about this place? It’s a famous spot to look at the stars.”
With a wide smile, Sinclaire handed something to Vikir. It was a small can of beer.
Tss-
Sinclaire poured the beer and hurriedly took a sip of the foam.
Suddenly, a white beard grew on Sinclaire’s face, and she chuckled as she handed a beer to
Vikir as well.
“I had two cans, but you can have one.”
“Thank you.”
After some hesitation, Vikir accepted the beer.
“I had no idea I’d meet you here at this time. I assumed this was a place only I knew about.
When I’m feeling down, I come here to gaze at the stars.”
Saying that, Sinclaire suddenly seemed to be in a better mood.
It seemed like something had clicked in her mind.
However, at that moment, Vikir was thinking something completely different.
“…This place is dangerous. I should change the meeting place with CindiWendy from now
on.”
A woman who now thinks, ‘Can I meet him more often if I come to this place?’
And a man who thinks, ‘I shouldn’t come to this place again.’
It was quite an ironic situation.
Then, Sinclaire, who had set down the beer can, showed interest in the owl sitting next to
Vikir.
“An owl? How cute. Did it bring a letter?”
[Hoo-hoo.]
“Ahahaha, it’s crying in a peculiar way.”
Sinclaire gently stroked the owl’s round head.
Then she turned to Vikir and asked, “Did you get a letter?”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“….”
Vikir didn’t know what to call CindiWendy, so he remained silent.
Upon this, Sinclaire’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s a girl, right?”
A greenish ribbon, the same color as CindiWendy’s hair, was attached to the owl’s head.
Since CindiWendy was a girl, Vikir just nodded quietly.
In response, Sinclaire’s expression stiffened slightly.
“Wow, look at this, Big brother is involved in a school romance. Do you think you can
maintain your grades while dating? Are you happy? Well, among the freshmen, who doesn’t
have a romance fantasies, right…?”
“It’s not like that.”
Vikir cut short Sinclaire’s words.
Sinclaire momentarily paused, as if she were at a loss, but then she sighed as if she suddenly
felt relieved.
It was a subtle sigh, as if she were feeling relieved.
“Big Brother, if this is a secret relationship, I’ll be disappointed. We can tell each other about
this, right? We’re best friends. Should you tell me in case it’s like that? Seriously!”
…Best friends? Vikir didn’t understand the meaning of the word, but he didn’t bother to ask.
Sinclaire continued to talk about various things on her own after that.
Normally, when she was at school, she wasn’t the type to talk this much, so Vikir was a bit
surprised.
Sinclaire, who had already consumed about half of her beer, suddenly seemed to remember
something and opened her mouth.
“Oh right. Big Brother, what’s your relationship with the student council president?”
When she referred to the student council president, she meant Dolores.
If she asked about the relationship between him and Dolores, Vikir could confidently answer
with one word.
“No relation.”
“Eh, it doesn’t seem like that.”
Sinclaire squinted her eyes and lightly nudged Vikir’s side with her elbow.
“It’s not related at all, but the student council president has been looking for you for the past
few days?”
“?”
Vikir’s eyes widened in surprise.
Why is the student council president looking for him?
And lately, there have been too many meetings. The principal, the chairman, the commander,
the director, the crown prince, and whatnot… Why are all these ‘Big-Wigs’ looking for me so
much? It’s stressing me out.
“…Not to mention that I don’t even have time to study.”
The fact that CindiWendy said it would take about a month for her to analyze the information
was considered a blessing in disguise.
Sinclaire shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but the student council president has been
looking for you lately.”
“In that case, when she came to the archery ground, was she looking for me?”
“Huh? I saw her, but why didn’t you meet her?”
“…Our paths didn’t cross.”
Vikir, who couldn’t say that he turned into a dog, hid, and then ran away to avoid being
neutered, gave a vague answer.
Sinclaire emptied her beer while wiping away the foam from her lips with her thumb.
Phew—
The unique scent of dark beer spread through the night sky.
She leaned against the railing and rested her chin on her hand, looking somewhat weary.
“I’m jealous.”
“?”
Vikir just raised an eyebrow, still nodding his head.
Sinclaire smiled with a slight grin as she swept away the foam from her lips.
“You’re always like that.”
“?”
“Not asking first. That’s my style.”
Vikir lightly chuckled at Sinclaire’s words.
Was it because he was born as a hunting dog and raised as a hunting dog that he was not used
to questioning someone? Waiting quietly for the owner to speak first. That was the virtue of a
hunting dog.
Was he tired of always being approached and talked to first?
Vikir’s attitude seemed different to Sinclaire.
“I said I was jealous… I just said it because I’m envious of you, Big Brother.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. We’re in the same year, but the gap is enormous.”
Sinclaire looked at Vikir with a strange look.
Ranked first in written exams, and he had already presented several research papers that
would turn the academic world upside down as a first-year undergraduate student. A
monstrous archer that far exceeded the level of an ordinary first-year undergraduate.
The level of an ordinary first-year undergraduate might be like this, for example.
-Professor: Today, I’ll lecture on how to eat salmon deliciously.
-1st Year Undergraduate 1: Wow! What’s salmon?
-1st Year Undergraduate 2: Can you eat salmon?
-1st Year Undergraduate 3: What’s a salmon?
And by the time they were about to graduate in the fourth year, they might have changed
slightly.
-Professor: Today, I’ll lecture on how to eat salmon deliciously.
-4th Year Undergraduate 1: …
-Professor: …
-4th Year Undergraduate 1: …
-Professor: What are you doing? You didn’t bring the salmon.
The depth of the subjects they were dealing with was in a different dimension for first-year
and fourth-year students. But Vikir had already surpassed the level of an undergraduate and a
graduate student.
What about practical skills?
Vikir, who had been suspected of not even being a Low-Tier Expert, showed his High-Tier
Expert skills.
This was an extraordinary level that was hard to imagine for someone from a commoner
background. He was on par with the top students from the seven great clans, or perhaps even
surpassing them.
“Written exams, practical skills, you’re a man who intimidates your classmates in many
ways, Big Brother.”
“…”
“I heard you’ve been having a lot of meetings with celebrities who are one or two generations
above you. Everyone’s jealous.”
But Vikir was well aware.
“…”
Money? Power? Honor? All of those superficial things would become worthless in the era of
destruction that was about to begin. When that time comes, all the existing orders will
collapse, and all values will be reversed.
As a great author once said, it would soon be the era of “a joke where survival is vulgar.”
“All of these are meaningless.”
Sinclaire looked at Vikir with raised eyebrows once again.
“Sometimes, when I see you, Big Brother, it feels like you’re not of this world.”
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
Join our Discord for release updates!
https://discord.com/invite/dbdMDhzWa2
——————
Those words made Vikir slightly embarrassed. Sinclaire laughed heartily again.
“I mean sometimes, you sound like an old man. Who would consider you an 18-year-old? So,
what do you think? How about escaping this world?”
With a slight twist, the empty beer can crumpled.
Sinclaire placed it in her palm and summoned mana.
Crackle!
A white flame emerged due to the iron attribute mana and transformed the beer can into a
new shape.
A rabbit-shaped pocket watch, an intricately crafted metal figurine, appeared in Sinclaire’s
palm.
“By the way, have you heard the rumor?”
Sinclaire fiddled with the rabbit figurine as she spoke.
“This time, among the students of the 20th year, a royal has enrolled.”
“They might just be rumors…” Vikir said
“…Hmm, who knows?”
Sinclaire replied with a somewhat puzzled tone.
“If they are royalty, their talents must be extraordinary. After all, they are from the bloodline
of the former Emperor, who was a great prophet, so they must be different from their peers,
right?”
“…”
“They’ll probably live their life in disguise to hide their abilities, especially not to stand out
too much from the beginning of the semester. It’s the only way they can justify hiding their
identity. Maybe they’re recruiting talent to be by their side? That’s what I think.”
“…”
“But they can’t hide their skills in an emergency. For example, if their close friends were in
danger during an exam.”
“Enough.”
Vikir once again dismissed Sinclaire’s words.
“I am not a royal.”
“…I never said you were a royal..”
“?”
Vikir raised an eyebrow.
Sinclaire just smiled softly. Her demeanor reminded Vikir of something.
‘Come to think of it, Sinclaire, this woman was an enigmatic figure even in the past, wasn’t
she?’
Vikir recalled his memories from before the regression.
After graduating from the academy, Sinclaire lost contact with all her peers, juniors, and
seniors. She disappeared from the world and history forever.
Before the regression, even HighBro, MiddleBro, and LowBro, who were quite aged,
sometimes chatted about her.
“Wonder what Sinclaire is up to by now.”
“That girl who didn’t miss a day as the top student of the Hot Department. She’s probably
doing well wherever she is.”
“Where did she come from, and where did she go?”
While reminiscing about her outstanding grades and achievements at the academy.
…While Vikir was lost in various thoughts.
“By the way, Big Brother, what are you planning to do after the midterms are over?”
Sinclaire asked again.
“After the midterms, we get a week of vacation, right? Do you have any plans for that time?”
“I do.”
“What is it?”
“Upper body and lower body exercises, and archery practice.”
“…Besides training and exercise.”
Sinclaire extended her lips with a pout and then continued.
“If you have some free time, why don’t you come over to my house? Let’s have a meal.”
Sinclaire’s invitation was somewhat unexpected. Vikir raised an eyebrow. When he thought
about it, Sinclaire had made a similar proposal to him in the past.
It was during their time volunteering at an orphanage. They were collecting donations for a
charitable act for parentless children. Sinclaire had asked him if he would contribute.
“Brother. Aren’t you contributing any money?”
“…I don’t have any money.”
He had genuinely had no money at the time. Vikir decided not to accept any support from
Baskerville. He wasn’t accepting CindiWendy’s financial support either. It would raise
unnecessary suspicions given his commoner disguise. Nevertheless, Sinclaire had given him
an odd look back then.
“Money? Why don’t you have any money? You’re a student at the academy. Isn’t that a bit
too harsh? These children here don’t have parents, unfortunately. We should help them.”
“Parents, I see no need for such a thing.”
“Huh?”
“After all, the world is something you must overcome with your own strength. The presence
of ‘parents’ is only needed in the early stages of life when external help is essential. It
becomes unnecessary otherwise.”
Vikir’s perspective hadn’t changed between then and now. Why did the orphans have it so
tough? They had everything they needed—essential nutrients, proper education, and a safe
environment. They were better off than being raised as hunting dogs in Baskerville. In his
view, they led happier and more comfortable lives.
To Vikir, ‘parents’ were just a functional role, and that view was consistent with his life at
Baskerville and the ‘Era of Destruction’ he had experienced during his first life.
But those who had and hadn’t experienced war couldn’t understand each other, and Vikir
knew that. He didn’t expect anything.
However,
“Got it? You must come.”
Sinclaire was looking at Vikir with a newfound seriousness, far from her usual curious and
lively demeanor. Her expression was more weighty and poignant. It was as if she understood
and empathized with Vikir.
As before.
“Well then, I have to go to work now!”
Sinclaire placed something on the table in front of Vikir and walked towards the rooftop exit.
Vikir raised his head in amazement.
Sinclaire just waved with a gentle smile. Finally,
…Bang!
The rooftop door closed.
“…”
Vikir turned his head and looked at the object that Sinclaire had left behind.
On it, a small rabbit holding a pocket watch was looking intently at Vikir.
——————
Chapter 188 Aftermath (3)
Halfway through the seemingly never-ending midterm exam period.
On a quiet afternoon with the sun shining brightly, Dolores, the student council president, and
Vikir, a first-year newcomer, were having a meeting on a sunny cafe terrace.
“You’ve been very busy lately, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
Dolores and Vikir were engaged in a conversation. The official reason for this meeting was
that Dolores wanted to discuss how to support the new members who had joined the
newspaper club under her leadership. However, in the course of their conversation, Dolores
began to open up about things she had not shared before.
“I feel really sorry about what happened with that urinating incident… I couldn’t explain
things in time, and it caused even more trouble. And thank you for stepping in for me.”
“It’s okay; everyone makes mistakes. That’s what makes us human.”
Vikir nodded without thinking much about it. It was at that moment that Dolores seemed
slightly startled. Suddenly, she heard a voice echoing in her ear.
‘It’s okay; everyone makes mistakes. That’s what makes us human.’
Surprisingly, the words were identical to the words of comfort she received from Night
Hound. The same reassuring words for a shared concern, delivered by different people. Was
it an accident?
‘…Well, it’s just a coincidence,’ Dolores thought to herself and couldn’t help but smile.
Comforting words are often quite similar among people; it’s a common sentiment shared by
many. She believed that was the case.
Anyway, Dolores had arranged this meeting to support the first-year students who would be
taking the upcoming Attack Exam. Vikir lowered his head and said, “I appreciated the
records you provided through Figgy. Thanks to them, I was well-prepared for the written
exam. Thank you.”
In the written exam, the theme often revolved around strategies to combat the ‘Carnage
Ants.’ Researching that topic could be applied to the Defense Game and was useful for
secondary research as well. Thus, it was a good idea to select it as a free research theme to
streamline their studies.
Dolores smiled lightly and shook her head. “All the third-years had those notes. Mine are not
that special; they are just a bit neater than others. It’s you who managed to achieve legendary-
level research results.”
“Of course, that’s true.”
Vikir honestly admitted his achievements, making Dolores chuckle.
Now that the midterm exams were halfway over and both the written and Defense exams had
concluded, only the Attack Exam remained, accounting for 40% of the total score.
The written exam only accounted for about 10% of the total score, and the Defense Exam
held the greatest weight at 50%. The remaining 40% was the Attack Exam.
Since the Defense Exam and Attack Exam had a much higher weight in the final grade, Vikir
asked Dolores to share her insights to better prepare for the Attack Exam.
Dolores gave a brief overview of the midterm exam structure.
“As I mentioned before, the midterm exams consist of a written exam worth 10%, the
Defense Exam worth 50%, and the Attack Exam worth 40%. Now that both the written and
Defense exams are over, only the Attack Exam remains.”
The structure of the Attack Exam was relatively simple. It was a ‘Professor vs. Student,’ 1:1
match. The rules were straightforward: students would face off against golems controlled
directly by the professors. The students won if they defeated the golem.
The test golems were standard stone golems with a head, torso, two large arms, and two legs.
What set them apart was that the professors would control them personally. The golems
would imitate the professors’ movements with perfect accuracy, copying their actions, speed,
and fighting style.
Fighting against a golem that mimicked the professor’s every move was quite challenging for
the students. It felt like they were directly confronting the professor in battle.
Though the written exam only accounted for about 10% of the total score, the Defense Game
and Attack Exam carried 50% and 40% respectively. The Attack Exam was the final test for
the midterm exams.
Despite the difficulty of facing golems in the Attack Exam, it had value because it allowed
students to use their best combat skills. It was used to assess a student’s true fighting abilities.
Students had to fight against the professors, who were experts in combat. By sparring with
them, students could experience the intensity of real combat. The professors had to deal with
the various variables introduced by the students, and the rules were designed to minimize
casualties.
Dolores made a serious gesture, raising 2 of her fingers.
“First, there are two issues you should be aware of when taking the Attack Exam.”
Dolores folded her index finger.
“First, archers are at a disadvantage when facing the golem one-on-one.”
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
Join our Discord for release updates!
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——————
In the Defense Exam, archers had an advantage. They could stand back, targeting the
opponents from a distance while the tank players in the front took care of most threats or only
missed a few, which allowed archers to accumulate points easily. However, in the Attack
Exam, it was different.
Since it was a 1:1 match, there were no tank players up front to create a line, and archers had
to fight alone. If the archer allowed the golem to get close, it was over. The professor
controlling the golem would rush forward recklessly, and the archer couldn’t inflict pain as
the golem was impervious to it. Therefore, archers had to run around, maintaining a distance
and shooting powerful arrows occasionally. However, if they couldn’t match the professor’s
speed, it was nearly impossible to land a critical hit.
As a result, archers would lose the advantage they gained from the Defense Exam, and this
helped balance the overall grading.
“But my concern doesn’t end there,” Dolores continued.
She raised her middle finger with a serious expression.
“Second, the professor who will be responsible for examining you is… Professor ‘Sadi.'”
At this, Vikir narrowed his eyes.
“Professor Sadi. Is that the pathetic professor who disappeared with the B key and was found
in a drunk state?”
“Yes.”
To Vikir’s question, Dolores nodded solemnly. Professor Sadi, whose full name was
‘Donatien Alphonse François Sadi de Sade,’ was, strictly speaking, an “escaped” noble.
Long ago, due to an unfortunate incident, the Sade family had fallen from grace. Professor
Sadi was the last descendant of this family, and she was reduced to a wretched state. Unable
to bear the sight of a noble family’s fall from grace, the Academy, according to a long-
standing tradition of treating nobility with respect, assigned him to a professorship.
Dolores shuddered at the memory.
“Her personality is strange, and her work ethic is a mess, making her the top professor
students avoid at all costs. Most of the classes she was in charge of were canceled due to
insufficient enrollment. I attended her class a few times, and she canceled class without
notice nine out of ten times.”
The fact that Dolores, known for her friendly and gentle demeanor, was saying this about
Professor Sadi indicated how serious the situation was. Besides, Vikir had also heard some
professors, including Professor Banshee, criticize Professor Sadi.
It seemed that her reputation was not good even among her fellow professors. However, the
situation was not entirely negative, as Dolores added some positive comments about
Professor Sadi.
“But there is one thing for sure. She has a unique skill. Besides her role as an Academy
professor, she also serves as an adviser to the Royal Guard for arrests and interrogations.
Recently, she had been assisting with criminal investigations.”
“Criminal investigations?”
Vikir nodded in response to Dolores’ question. He was aware of the infamous “Night
Hound,” a criminal who had caused turmoil across the entire Empire, even leading the
Imperial Army on a wild goose chase.
“Another crazy pursuer, huh,” Vikir thought to himself. He wondered why someone as
reckless as Professor Sadi would suddenly take an interest in capturing the Night Hound.
Vikir soon pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t make much sense of it, but it was none of
his concern.
However, Dolores continued with her warnings about Professor Sadi. “Professor Sadi has a
peculiar habit. She tends to ruin the future of talented students.”
“What do you mean?”
“For example, she might inflict severe injuries during sparring or cause severe ‘post-
traumatic stress disorder’ for no apparent reason. There are also rumors that she
inappropriately traumatizes students, regardless of their gender. You need to be careful.”
“Oh?”
Vikir was puzzled by this revelation. He couldn’t fathom why Professor Sadi would have a
reason to act this way.
“Well, some say it’s because of her inferiority complex. Being the last descendant of a fallen
noble family, she might hold grudges against well-to-do students from prestigious families.
But who knows if that’s true; only she knows for sure.”
Talented students, high-ranking nobles, attractive students, or exemplary students are all
targeted by the notorious professor “Sadi,” who is known for tormenting them.
Considering Vikir’s excellent performance in the Defense and Written Exams, there was an
increased possibility that Professor Sadi might target him. Dolores was genuinely concerned
about this.
At that moment, a lively voice interrupted their conversation. “Hello, the weather is so nice,
isn’t it? Your parfait and espresso are ready!”
Cold and hot beverages were placed on the table. The cheerful waitress who brought them
smiled at Vikir and Dolores. It was Sinclaire.
Dolores raised her eyebrows in surprise and asked, “Sinclaire, are you working here?”
“Yes, I am, President! I only work on weekend mornings! I was also a substitute yesterday
and this afternoon,” Sinclaire replied enthusiastically.
Beside Sinclaire was the plump-faced Bianca.
Dolores inquired, “Why are you two working here?”
“Isn’t the tuition payment deadline coming up soon? I have to earn my tuition, hehe. The
first-year scholarship doesn’t cover 100%, you know. And I wanted to try working in a café
during my school years,” Sinclaire explained cheerfully.
In contrast, Bianca had a simpler reason. “The uniform for this place is cute,” she said.
Vikir chuckled at Bianca’s comment, while Dolores seemed to understand their motivations
and nodded.
Sinclaire placed some unrequested biscuits and pie on the table. “This is a complimentary
service offered by me! Do you like sweet things, Big Brother~?” she asked.
Vikir replied, “I don’t.”
Sinclaire responded, “I’ll keep that in mind for next time!”
Sinclaire remained upbeat. Then, she suddenly remembered something and asked Vikir, “By
the way, have you paid your tuition for this term?”
Vikir replied, “No.”
Sinclaire inquired further, “When do you plan to pay?”
Vikir scratched his chin and said, “Hmm.”
He realized that he had been quite busy lately and hadn’t thought about paying his tuition. He
had decided not to seek financial assistance from Baskerville this time and had chosen to
enter in a trade deal with Ballak with the hellp of CindiWendy, which might take some time
to yield the required funds. Since a significant portion of his tuition would be covered by
scholarships, the immediate financial burden was not substantial.
So, Vikir had a question for Sinclaire. “I have a question about this café. Do they hire male
staff, by any chance?”
——————

Chapter 189 Aftermath (4)

With the Attack exams near, Vikir came for a part-time job interview. Sinclaire, having heard
about Vikir’s situation, decided to take him to the manager’s office right away.
Vikir quietly pondered to himself, ‘It’s not the right time to use CindiWendy’s resources yet.
I should wait until ‘that moment’ arrives before establishing any connection. Her substantial
resources are meant for a very critical moment. Revealing our connection prematurely is
risky as it might lead to the exposure of our agents.’
“Shouldn’t we keep some hidden cards for the Bourgeois family?” Vikir muttered quietly.
At this, Sinclaire, who had been walking a bit ahead, turned her head with an odd expression
and asked, “Vikir, what did you just say?”
“Oh, it was nothing,” Vikir replied.
“Really? Did I mishear you?” Sinclaire asked.
Vikir realized Sinclaire was a brave student who didn’t give in to peer pressure. She believed
that if there was a wall, it could be easily broken through.
Back to their previous conversation, Sinclaire enthusiastically explained the benefits of
working in the café to Vikir.
She mentioned the low hourly wage but emphasized that it was a comfortable job, free from
trouble, and you could even make yourself something to eat from the leftover ingredients if
you wanted.
The café was close to the dormitory and lecture halls, and it was relatively empty in the
evenings, making it suitable for personal study, though not for napping.
Sinclaire ended her enthusiastic speech by saying, “And most importantly, the uniform is
really cute.”
Vikir was tempted by the offer but was firmly rejected. Sinclaire tried to convince the café
owner, Pringles, to hire Vikir by pointing out his handsome appearance, but Pringles
remained steadfast in his belief that only female staff should be hired, claiming that women’s
meticulous and delicate hands were essential for making the best coffee.
Sinclaire was not one to back down from a challenge. She decided to try and break the wall
with a weapon even stronger than a concrete wall—Vikir’s looks.
“But sir, just look at how handsome my Big brother is!” Sinclaire proclaimed, as she reached
out and styled Vikir’s hair, revealing his handsome face.
At this, Pringles stroked his beard and changed his stance, offering Vikir a job with a three-
month probation period, where he would be paid 70% of the hourly wage. Sinclaire was
elated and mentioned that the café usually didn’t hire male staff, but Pringles had made an
exception.
However, Vikir declined the offer, mentioning that he didn’t have the time to work part-time
with such a low wage, and he was already planning to hunt monsters during the upcoming
break.
Sinclaire didn’t give up easily and tried to convince Pringles to hire Vikir without a probation
period, but Vikir once again declined the offer, and Pringles suddenly regretted his decision
to hire only female staff.
Vikir remained resolute in refusing the various offers from Pringles, who desperately tried to
persuade him to work at the café, even doubling the hourly wage, but to no avail.
Sinclaire did her best to intervene, but Vikir’s decision was final, as he had other plans for
earning money.
Disappointed, Sinclaire realized that most part-time jobs in the area preferred female workers,
whether it was in a café, theater, or bookstore.
“Wouldn’t it be okay to try working here? It might not be so bad,” Bianca suggested, her
expression surprisingly serious.
——————
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But Vikir shook his head and replied, “It’s okay. I already have another part-time job in
mind.”
Sinclaire’s eyes widened in curiosity, but Vikir chose not to reveal the part-time job he had in
mind, keeping his real motive for wanting to earn money a secret.
Just then, Dolores, who had been waiting at the table while eating her parfait, suddenly stood
up in alarm, holding a newspaper that an owl had thrown through the café window.
[Breaking News] Night Hound Strikes Again! The Unknowable End! – The worst villain in
history, ‘Night Hound,’ strikes again. Early this morning, students from the Varangian
Academy on a field trip to Venetior were attacked by the Night Hound, resulting in
significant casualties… Thirty were injured, including Major [Name], the commander of
Varangian’s Military Academy… On the other hand, it has been revealed that the Night
Hound had a different initial objective and engaged in conflict with the brave Varangian
students who noticed the suspicious figure… Furthermore, no fingerprints were found on the
only piece of evidence left at the scene, a shattered vodka bottle…
Dolores appeared shaken as she read the news, her hands trembling.
“Could it be another ‘Immitator’!?”
‘WHAT!’
ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st Year): Whoa, it seems like the Varangian kids got hit…
ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 2nd Year): Seriously, it felt safe inside the Academy until now… It
doesn’t feel the same when our peers are affected.
↳ ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 1st Year): These days, I’m too scared to walk the streets at night…
ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 1st Year): Really, that criminal need to be arrested quickly.ㅠㅠㅠ
ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 2nd Year): Wow, it’s kind of cool, even though he’s a villain.
↳ ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st Year): This guy is insane…
↳ ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st Year): Is he a psychopath???
↳ ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 3rd Year): This guy needs a psychological evaluation,
seriously ㅋㅋ
↳ ㅇㅇ(Cold Department, 1st Year): But there are quite a few Night Hound fans in the
Academy, surprisingly.
↳ ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 2nd Year): Yeah, it’s an anonymous forum, so people are freely
expressing their views; be careful not to reveal your identity.ㅡㅡ
ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 3rd Year): I’m a Night Hound fan! I support him! Ring the alarm in
this rotten society!!
↳ ㅇㅇ(Hot Department, 2nd Year): Royal Guards, we need you here!!!!
.
.
Dolores grew angry as she read the newspaper.
“This isn’t the work of the Night Hound! Someone is imitating him! A real villain!”
She quickly got up from her seat and approached Vikir, Sinclare, and Bianca.
“Sorry, guys. Something urgent came up, and I think I need to go. Let’s talk about the attack
exam later.”
“Yes, President.”
Sinclare and Bianca nodded obediently.
Meanwhile, Vikir was slightly impressed by Dolores’s keen observation.
‘Did she notice that it’s the work of an imitator? Impressive.’
Vikir also read the newspaper article Dolores left behind.
It seemed like some lunatic was running around causing havoc outside.
“No, not just one, but two?”
Two imitators. One had become less active recently, while the other continued to rampage.
And now, with the increased attention, Vikir’s situation had both advantages and
disadvantages.
The advantages were that his alibi became even stronger, the investigation got more
confusing, and if things went well, he could shift his own crimes onto the imitator.
But there was one significant drawback that couldn’t be overshadowed by these advantages.
“Being a Night Hound now is going to get even more challenging with tighter security.”
This would mean potential disruptions in assassinations.
As the social elite became more cautious, the number of security personnel would increase.
“…”
Vikir quietly made up his mind.
If possible, he’d go after the imitators, the knock-off Night Hounds, right after the attack
exam tomorrow.
He had to find a part-time job, study, take the exam, go on assassination missions, and
eliminate the imitators… Vikir’s college life was incredibly hectic.
——————

Chapter 190 Attack Exam (1)

The final exam of the midterms had begun. Students and golems faced each other on the vast
circular training ground. On the opposite side of the training ground, a professor stood alone.
The golem that each student faced replicated the professor’s movements precisely. Swish—
thud! When the professor swung his right arm, the golem mirrored the motion. If the
professor leaped, the golem leaped alongside.
In this way, the professor controlled his distant “avatar” golem to confront the students. This
added a handicap, as the sense of distance became crucial in this scenario.
Soon, the practical test commenced, and students in the training ground faced the golems.
Students had to exert all their strength against golems mimicking the professors’ martial arts.
Meanwhile, the attack exam divided sections based on the attendance list. A specific
professor was assigned to handle Zones A and B, and each professor faced around a hundred
students.
Naturally, various professors controlled golems, resulting in diverse golem combat styles.
Professors with a calm disposition directed golems defensively, while those with a quick and
aggressive temperament operated golems aggressively.
Therefore, students memorized their position on the attendance list and identified the
professor in charge, studying their combat style in advance.
This testing method was devised by the Academy’s founding headmaster, emphasizing that
knowing and analyzing the person who would teach you before learning increases
educational effectiveness.
On the other hand,
“Yah!”
The first time Tudor stood on the exam stage, he vigorously wielded a spear. Paat! A
shimmering aura exploded from the spear’s tip. If this were a real human-to-human duel,
even the strongest professor wouldn’t be able to unleash such a lively attack.
However, the opponent was a golem, and the real professor controlled it safely from a
distance.
Thus, Tudor thrust his spear without hesitation.
Kwak! Wujik!
The golem, which had been exuding magical energy, retreated backward as Tudor’s aura
struck it. However,
“It’s still far.”
A familiar voice flowed from the golem’s mouth.
Professor Banshee Morg, a prominent candidate for the Academy’s vice headmaster, was far
away on the training ground, yet he accurately gauged the distance to Tudor and controlled
the golem.
Shaaaah!
As the golem’s fingers moved, thorny vines grew rapidly around Tudor.
“Huh!?” The moment Tudor lowered his head,
“The vines are fake.”
The golem controlled by Banshee immediately sent a giant fist flying.
Tudor barely twisted his waist to avoid it, but
“The fist is also fake.”
The sole of the golem’s foot, kicking backward, was unavoidable.
Pffung!
Tudor collapsed on the spot.
As Tudor, covered in dirt, was thrust out of bounds, the shadow of the golem loomed eerily
over him.
The sound of Professor Banshee licking his lips echoed through the golem’s mouth.
“Did you think, just because I’m a magician, I wouldn’t use my fists and feet?”
“Uh… yes.”
“The purpose of combat is ‘victory.’ Just because I’m a magician doesn’t mean I pursue
‘victory with magic.’ To win, you should be able to use anything, whether it’s a fist, a foot, or
teeth.”
“Thank you for the lesson.”
Although Professor Banshee was a disagreeable character, the content of his teachings proved
to be immensely helpful.
Tudor politely nodded his head and left the arena.
Ding!
“The scores have been calculated.”
Gradually, Tudor’s scores appeared on the status window due to the magic effect.
[Cold Department Class A-001, Freshman ‘Tudor Donquixote’]
[Assigned Professor: Banshee Morg]
-Effective Hits: 12 times (1 point each)
-Effective Evasion: 20 times (1 point each)
-Effective Defense: 3 times (1 point each)
-Critical Hits: 0 times (10 points each)
=Total Score: 35 points
A total score of 35 points, an outstanding achievement. Among the first-year students, it was
undoubtedly the highest score.
“Great!”
Tudor raised both hands high and shouted in triumph. Successfully landing 12 effective hits
on the golem controlled by Banshee and elegantly dodging its attacks 20 times, along with
blocking the golem’s attacks three times, contributed to his score.
Although he didn’t manage to land a critical hit against Banshee’s adeptly moving golem, it
didn’t matter. After all, professors, masters of combat, wouldn’t allow critical hits from
students.
Tudor bowed in greeting to Dolores, the student council president, who was watching from
afar. The information Dolores provided about the combat style of Professor Banshee, Tudor’s
assigned instructor, proved to be a significant help.
Although he didn’t know about the kick until the end, it was still helpful.
“Still, it’s fortunate that my score is better than those triplets from Baskerville.”
Tudor chuckled as he looked towards the opposite side of the arena. There, three figures—
Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro—stood with their fists raised. For reference, Highbro
scored 34 points, while Middlebro and Lowbro both scored 33 points, dominating the top two
positions until Tudor appeared.
Tudor provocatively taunted the triplets, saying, “Hey, how does it feel to be overshadowed
by me?”
However,
“….”
“….”
“….”
For some reason, the triplets from Basketville showed no reaction to Tudor’s provocation.
They simply stood still, like wooden chickens. Confused by the lack of response from his
peers, Tudor awkwardly stuck his tongue out.
“What’s up with those guys? They’re always ready for a fight, but now they won’t even
respond to a challenge?”
Although Tudor couldn’t figure out why the Baskerville triplets had suddenly become like
this, he thought it worked out well, anyway.
But, Tudor’s provocation was misunderstood by someone unexpected.
“Damn it! That Tudor is irritating!”
Bianca. She was rolling her eyes while glaring at Tudor.
[Cold Department Class B-001, Freshman ‘Bianca Usher’]
[Assigned Professor: Banshee Morg]
-Effective Hits: 7 times (1 point each)
-Effective Evasion: 24 times (1 point each)
-Effective Defense: 0 times (1 point each)
-Critical Hits: 0 times (10 points each)
=Total Score: 31 points
As an archer, Bianca was at a disadvantage in one-on-one combat like this, especially against
a golem that felt no pain.
“Ugh! To be surpassed by Tudor! It’s all because the exam structure is messed up. It’s unfair
for archers. The balance is a mess!”
“What? Why didn’t you bring up the balance issue when you were getting points here and
there in the defense exam?”
——————
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“Why bring up the defense exam now when there’s nothing to say?”
“Maybe it’s better to have nothing to say.”
Tudor and Bianca began bickering over their scores once again.
And around that time,
“Wahaha! How about that, you fools!”
The vice leader Hot Department, Granola, emerged triumphantly after finishing the exam.
[Hot Department Class A-001, Freshman ‘Granola de Libaiordon’]
[Assigned Professor: Banshee Morg]
-Effective Hits: 11 times (1 point each)
-Effective Evasion: 22 times (1 point each)
-Effective Defense: 2 times (1 point each)
-Critical Hits: 0 times (10 points each)
=Total Score: 35 points
He finished the exam with the same score as Tudor, the top scorer in the Cold Department. It
seemed like he received higher scores than expected, probably because the original instructor,
Professor Banshee, was in charge of the exam.
So, luck was on his side.
Granola, amidst cheers from his Hot Department peers, looked at Tudor.
“Is it a tie now? Our midterm scores are quite similar, right?”
“Where are you comparing? We set a new record in the defense exam.”
“Individual scores were neck and neck. And don’t forget, my written exam score is higher
than yours!”
Tudor chuckled in response to Granola’s boastful attitude.
“1:1 showdown. If it’s in a one-on-one martial arts battle against a golem, even I might not be
as strong as a certain someone.”
“….!”
Finally, Granola’s expression stiffened at those words.
Indeed. Even the arrogant Granola had to be wary of talents beyond Tudor and Bianca. There
were more threatening individuals than Tudor and Bianca.
Specifically, ‘Sancho Barataria’ from the Cold Department.
Tudor cheerfully exclaimed, “Sancho is a Northern warrior who can defeat bears with just his
bare body, even without a bit of mana! Moreover, with unlimited mana and unlimited killing
power in an attack exam, what do you think the result will be? It will be on a different level
than when he used to beat up bears!”
At that, Granola and the other Hot department students made uncomfortable sounds and
averted their gaze.
They acknowledged it as well.
Among the Cold Department and Hot Department, Sancho was expected to have the highest
score in this attack exam.
“As expected, Sancho will be the first in the Cold Department, right?”
“That’s right. Have you seen his build? His fist is bigger than my head.”
“He can probably tear apart golems with sheer strength, right?”
“Maybe he’ll set a record for individual scores.”
All students were murmuring with similar opinions.
However,
The subsequent event shocked all students in the Cold Department and Hot department.
…Thud!
Sancho, covered in blood, weakly dropped to his knees. Then, the status window reflecting
the harsh reality appeared.
[Cold Department Department Class A-172, Freshman ‘Sancho Barataria’]
[Assigned Professor: Sadi]
-Effective Hits: 8 times (1 point each)
-Effective Evasion: 9 times (1 point each)
-Effective Defense: 0 times (1 point each)
-Critical Hits: 0 times (10 points each)
=Total Score: 17 points
The score was absurd. He managed to land only 8 effective hits and evade just 9 times.
Moreover, there was zero effective defense, meaning he was directly hit by almost every
attack. A total score of 17 points was well below average. Even students capable of achieving
scores in the late 30s received much lower than expected results. Sancho, who could normally
achieve high scores, barely managed to score this low. After completing the exam, Sancho
immediately collapsed, his body badly battered.
The bruises and bloodstains scattered across him added to the already grim atmosphere of the
examination site.
“Sancho!”
Seeing his injured condition, Dolores rushed over. She supported the staggering Sancho and
began to cast healing spells.
Immediately, students gathered around Sancho and Dolores. Leading the group was Tudor,
Sancho’s roommate and close friend.
“S-Sancho! Are you okay!?”
“I’m fine. President cast a healing spell. It’s okay.”
Sancho’s deep sigh revealed his disappointment for failing the exam and his guilt for not
upholding the honor of the Cold Department.
“…”
A vein popped on Dolores’ forehead. After patting Sancho’s back a few times, she stood up
and glared at the professor standing on the other side of the arena—the controller of the
golem that had just attacked Sancho.
A sinister laugh echoed, hiding beneath it an intense decadence and world-weariness.
‘Sadi de Sade,’ also known as ‘Ms. Sadi,’ the young professor rated as the worst at
Colosseum Academy.
“Ho ho ho, how boring.”
Her laughter was raspy, but beneath it was a deep sense of contempt.
——————
Chapter 191 Attack Exam (2)
“…”
Dolores glared at her with strong intensity.
“Ho ho ho. What are you looking at?”
Ms. Sadi, also known as ‘Sadi de Sade’, questioned Dolores. She wore a black military hat,
had long violet ponytails, hair protruding like horns, and pale skin resembling a corpse. A
black conquest cloak hung over her shoulders, secured by a loose belt with a coiled whip in
the middle. Her common-sense-killer heels had a staggering height of 31 cm, and the tips
were as sharp as daggers. Instead of fingerprints, terrifying scars, rumored to have resulted
from her biting her fingers during a drunken stupor, adorned the fingertips.
She quietly released her Aura and focused it on Dolores.
“…”
Dolores, despite the cold sweat trickling down, met Ms. Sadi’s gaze head-on. Normally,
anyone would have averted their eyes under such a menacing stare, but after the events with
the Demon, the matured Dolores didn’t shy away from expressing her displeasure at her
Crack-
With a loud noise, the stone ground split open.
Sinclaire quickly dodged, but the whip moved as if alive, relentlessly chasing after Sinclaire’s
heels.
Kiri-lick-
Like a venomous dance resembling a mosquito.
“It’s just the talented ones struggle a bit longer, ending up more battered. Hohoho!”
“……”
“Was it Sancho earlier? I had some expectations for him. The academy’s standards have
fallen.”
Professor Sadi continued whipping the air, licking her dry lips with her tongue.
“How about you? Show us what the ace of the Hot Department can do~”
At the same time, the whip created numerous folds and knots, exploding the surrounding air.
Puff-puff-puff-puff! Crack- crack! Snap- crack-
The nearby stone floor exploded into pieces.
Sinclaire quickly cast a wind magic to enhance her agility.
“Haste!”
With increased agility, Sinclaire skillfully avoided the whip’s intricate movements and
moved to the outskirts of the examination ground.
Truly, a speed like the wind.
However.
“Haste? Was that the speed you get with Haste? Hey, if you do this in a real fight, you’ll die
on the spot~”
Professor Sadi’s golem effortlessly caught up with Sinclaire’s movements.
“Huh!?”
This sound of frustration not only came from Sinclaire’s mouth but simultaneously erupted
from the mouths of all the students and professors watching the exam.
Sadi controlled the golem with surprising ease. Even other professors were astonished by her
skill.
Ordinary professors, even if they were combat pros, couldn’t perfectly synchronize a golem
located far away from their bodies. The body synchronized with the golem becomes slightly
sluggish when moving, and there is a momentary delay in synchronization during the
avatarization process.
Furthermore, dealing with a distant opponent creates a distance disparity, making calculating
the length and thickness difference between one’s limbs and the golem’s limbs difficult,
resulting in unavoidable minor errors.
But.
“Hohoho- Just running away won’t earn you any points, you know?”
Sadi had none of those problems.
Her incredible focus and physical prowess flowed as smoothly as water as if she were
engaging in close combat with the opponent right in front of her.
“Just running away won’t earn you any points. Thank you for the advice, professor!”
Sinclaire stood firm and cast a spell, quickly aiding her body with a wind magic that
enhanced her reflexes.
Multiple spell casting.
Three circles, nine mana circles in total, appeared with intricate patterns.
Qua-qua-qua-quack!
Three class spells erupted.
The songs of fire, ice, and storm.
An incredible talent rarely seen among her peers. In terms of mana affinity alone, she was
comparable to or even surpassed the magicians of the Morg family, the masters of magic.
But.
“Hohoho-”
The raining spears of fire, ice, and wind only made Sadi laugh uproariously.
“The ace of the Hot Department isn’t anything special, huh?”
Sadi lost interest and mumbled.
Then.
Boom-thud!
With just one sweep, Sadi’s golem nullified all of Sinclaire’s spells.
“Kuk!?”
As the magic was forcefully canceled, mana surged back, causing blood to flow from
Sinclaire’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. She staggered backward, and above her head, the
golem’s fists and kicks mercilessly descended.
Qua-qua-qua-quack!
Sadi’s controlled golem’s physical prowess was astounding. Sadi efficiently selected motions
that demonstrated optimal efficiency with the limited mana that could be infused into the
golem despite the limited amount of mana that could be infused into the golem. The end
result was incomprehensible golem control combined with explosively manipulated mana
usage.
The golem moved as if it were a single whip, crazy in its flexibility, eerie in its contortions,
incomprehensibly swift—like a monster.
“Kyaaah!”
Sinclaire involuntarily screamed. Avoiding the raining fists and kicks of the golem, she
retreated in confusion. Then, the voice, like a reaper’s whisper, reached her ears.
“Oh? Did you forget something, dear? Have you forgotten about my whip?”
For a moment, Sinclaire who was focusing on the terrifying fists and kicks of the golem,
forgot that Sadi’s main weapon was the whip.
“……!?”
When Sinclaire regained her composure, she saw the whip tendrils widely entwined around
her body.
…Squelch!
In an instant, the tightened noose bound Sinclaire’s entire body in one breath.
“……! ……! ……!”
Unable to move, Sinclaire, her head turned helplessly.
Just then Sadi’s golem threw a kick with astonishing speed.
Spurt!
Sinclaire quickly tilted her head back to avoid Sadi’s sweeping kick, but she couldn’t dodge
the second kick that followed.
…Crunch!
A solid mid-kick. Even without seeing it, it was evident that all her ribs had been shattered,
puncturing her internal organs.
Sinclaire flew through the air as if the string had been cut, landing outside the examination
ground.
Simultaneously, a status window appeared.
Effective Hits: 3 times (1 point each)
Effective Evasions: 16 times (1 point each)
Effective Defense: 0 times (1 point each)
Critical Hits: 0 times (10 points each)
= Total Score: 19 points
The best talent in the Hot Department, she had never missed the top spot, but her total score
was merely 19 points—barely reaching the average.
“Sinclaire!!!!!”
Dolores, who had been terrified, caught Sinclaire as she fell.
A healing magic was cast on Sinclaire, who was coughing up blood.
Latecoming professors also hurriedly began treating Sinclaire.
Meanwhile, Sinclaire looked up at Dolores and faintly smiled.
“I’m sorry, President….”
“Don’t say anything, Sinclaire! It’ll take time for your internal injuries to heal!”
“Cough! Kuk! I won’t be able to receive the scholarship….”
Upon hearing that, Dolores held Sinclaire’s hand tightly with a tearful expression.
Honestly, Dolores could cover Sinclaire’s tuition fee herself. She came from a prestigious
family of Quovadis, and her financial situation was quite comfortable.
However,
To overcome everything with her own strength, whether it be exams or tuition, without
relying on anyone.
For Sinclaire, that self-reliance was crucial.
At that moment,
“Ho ho ho ho-”
Laughter echoed through the now silent arena. Professor Sadi, smiling broadly, looked at
Sinclaire’s tears.
“Crying because you won’t get the scholarship? Hey cutie, this teacher will pay for it, so
don’t cry. Why cry over something like that? It’s not like you’re a beggar.”
These weren’t words spoken out of ignorance but a deliberate attempt to overturn Sinclaire’s
emotions.
Sadi’s words, like thorns on the tip of her tongue, caused the expressions of students and
professors alike to freeze.
…However,
Even in such a situation, there was one person who showed no change in expression.
“…”
Vikir. He looked at Professor Sadi with his characteristic poker face, showing no reaction.
However,
When Professor Sadi opened her mouth to shout, even Vikir’s expression finally had a ripple.
“…”
“Alright, let’s get on with it. The next turn is Cold Department, Class B…”
Her lively eyeballs, like they were rolling around, turned in Vikir’s direction.
And then, without delay, her pale skin contrasted against her bright red lips, forming a gentle
smile.
“Our cute and fat Figgy. Are you ready to come up?”
“Ho Ho Ho”
Chapter 192 Attack Exam (3)
“……”
Vikir just stood there with an expressionless face.
And then, a female student with white hair walked out from behind him.
Sinclaire of the Hot Department
She slowly walked towards the examination ground.
“Hot Department Class A, Number 69, Sinclaire, right?”
Around that time, Professor Sadi’s voice calling Sinclaire could be heard.
It was a line filled with profound interest.
Despite being a commoner, Sinclaire’s practical and written grades were outstanding,
surpassing anyone else.
Not only that, but in the remaining time, she managed to participate in various liberal arts
classes, clubs, and volunteer activities and even worked part-time, earning her the reputation
of an alpha girl.
Perhaps that’s why? Professor Sadi had a peculiar focus on Sinclaire.
Dolores approached Sinclaire with a worried expression.
“Sinclaire, it might be better to give up the exam if things get tough. Professor Sadi isn’t just
an academy professor; she also serves as an advisor to the Royal Guard’s arrest team and the
torture advisory committee. Rumor has it she’s quite capable. And, considering that, she
tends to bother talented students more than anyone else, there’s a high possibility she’ll make
things difficult for you.”
However, Sinclaire, with a determined expression unseen before, shook her head.
“I anticipated it.”
“…What?”
“I’ve been expecting it since Professor Sadi became responsible for my exam.”
Sinclaire raised her head, her sparkling gaze directed at Dolores.
“Thank you for your concern, President. But I need to perform well in this exam. I need to
receive a scholarship to pay my tuition.”
“…I understand what you’re saying. But Professor Sadi’s case is not typical. Even if you give
up this exam, other professors in different subjects will find a way to supplement your score.
They’ll give you extra points or special scores, whatever it takes.”
“…But.”
Sinclaire turned her head.
There, many students were groaning and writhing in pain.
The damage to the students in the Hot Department, who generally had lower stamina
compared to the Cold Department, was severe.
Seeing that, Sinclaire bit her lip tightly.
“I can’t avoid someone who dared to make my friends like that.”
“……”
“I want to take the exam under the same conditions as my friends, President.”
Sinclaire’s earnestness was conveyed to Dolores.
Why should it not be? After all, Dolores was once as thick as thieves with her peers during
her freshman year.
“…I see. They say there’s a proverb about love for one’s peers and love for one’s country.”
“Thank you, President!”
“Sure, whatever. However, if the situation is extremely dangerous, you must withdraw from
the exam immediately. Please come to me right away. I will heal you.”
“Yes!”
Sinclaire confidently responded and leapt onto the examination ground.
Professor Sadi’s curious gaze eventually turned to Sinclaire.
As if looking at an insect she is about to crush.
“Oh~ So, you’re ‘that’ Sinclaire. Good grades, excellent combat sense, a kind personality,
and on top of that, you’re involved in various liberal arts classes, volunteer activities, and
clubs. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Thank you for your kind words, Professor.”
“Oh my, your voice is lovely too. And your face is really pretty…”
Professor Sadi began to flirt.
“It would be worth destroying it~”
If only it weren’t for the last part, the atmosphere would have been quite warm.
Tsu-tsu-tsu-tsu…
Eventually, Professor Sadi’s aura began to spread gradually.
Professor Sadi’s avatar, a mud golem with a figure identical to hers, stood up with a slender
body.
In its hands was a long vine whip.
The golem’s mouth moved, transmitting Professor Sadi’s voice.
“Recently, there’s a ridiculous rumor spreading around the school. Me, bothering talented
students?”
Sinclaire flinched at those words.
A rumor? Could it be that Professor Sadi’s intentions were not fueled by jealousy or
inferiority?
Sinclaire was momentarily confused by the thought that she might have misunderstood.
But. Professor Sadi’s following words clearly indicated that she was even more insane than
what Sinclaire thought.
“That’s a real misunderstanding. Because… I bother both talented and untalented students
without discrimination. Hohoho!”
At the same time, the whip wielded by the golem flew.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
Crack-
With a loud noise, the stone ground split open.
Sinclaire quickly dodged, but the whip moved as if alive, relentlessly chasing after Sinclaire’s
heels.
Kiri-lick-
Like a venomous dance resembling a mosquito.
“It’s just the talented ones struggle a bit longer, ending up more battered. Hohoho!”
“……”
“Was it Sancho earlier? I had some expectations for him. The academy’s standards have
fallen.”
Professor Sadi continued whipping the air, licking her dry lips with her tongue.
“How about you? Show us what the ace of the Hot Department can do~”
At the same time, the whip created numerous folds and knots, exploding the surrounding air.
Puff-puff-puff-puff! Crack- crack! Snap- crack-
The nearby stone floor exploded into pieces.
Sinclaire quickly cast a wind magic to enhance her agility.
“Haste!”
With increased agility, Sinclaire skillfully avoided the whip’s intricate movements and
moved to the outskirts of the examination ground.
Truly, a speed like the wind.
However.
“Haste? Was that the speed you get with Haste? Hey, if you do this in a real fight, you’ll die
on the spot~”
Professor Sadi’s golem effortlessly caught up with Sinclaire’s movements.
“Huh!?”
This sound of frustration not only came from Sinclaire’s mouth but simultaneously erupted
from the mouths of all the students and professors watching the exam.
Sadi controlled the golem with surprising ease. Even other professors were astonished by her
skill.
Ordinary professors, even if they were combat pros, couldn’t perfectly synchronize a golem
located far away from their bodies. The body synchronized with the golem becomes slightly
sluggish when moving, and there is a momentary delay in synchronization during the
avatarization process.
Furthermore, dealing with a distant opponent creates a distance disparity, making calculating
the length and thickness difference between one’s limbs and the golem’s limbs difficult,
resulting in unavoidable minor errors.
But.
“Hohoho- Just running away won’t earn you any points, you know?”
Sadi had none of those problems.
Her incredible focus and physical prowess flowed as smoothly as water as if she were
engaging in close combat with the opponent right in front of her.
“Just running away won’t earn you any points. Thank you for the advice, professor!”
Sinclaire stood firm and cast a spell, quickly aiding her body with a wind magic that
enhanced her reflexes.
Multiple spell casting.
Three circles, nine mana circles in total, appeared with intricate patterns.
Qua-qua-qua-quack!
Three class spells erupted.
The songs of fire, ice, and storm.
An incredible talent rarely seen among her peers. In terms of mana affinity alone, she was
comparable to or even surpassed the magicians of the Morg family, the masters of magic.
But.
“Hohoho-”
The raining spears of fire, ice, and wind only made Sadi laugh uproariously.
“The ace of the Hot Department isn’t anything special, huh?”
Sadi lost interest and mumbled.
Then.
Boom-thud!
With just one sweep, Sadi’s golem nullified all of Sinclaire’s spells.
“Kuk!?”
As the magic was forcefully canceled, mana surged back, causing blood to flow from
Sinclaire’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. She staggered backward, and above her head, the
golem’s fists and kicks mercilessly descended.
Qua-qua-qua-quack!
Sadi’s controlled golem’s physical prowess was astounding. Sadi efficiently selected motions
that demonstrated optimal efficiency with the limited mana that could be infused into the
golem despite the limited amount of mana that could be infused into the golem. The end
result was incomprehensible golem control combined with explosively manipulated mana
usage.
The golem moved as if it were a single whip, crazy in its flexibility, eerie in its contortions,
incomprehensibly swift—like a monster.
“Kyaaah!”
Sinclaire involuntarily screamed. Avoiding the raining fists and kicks of the golem, she
retreated in confusion. Then, the voice, like a reaper’s whisper, reached her ears.
“Oh? Did you forget something, dear? Have you forgotten about my whip?”
For a moment, Sinclaire who was focusing on the terrifying fists and kicks of the golem,
forgot that Sadi’s main weapon was the whip.
“……!?”
When Sinclaire regained her composure, she saw the whip tendrils widely entwined around
her body.
…Squelch!
In an instant, the tightened noose bound Sinclaire’s entire body in one breath.
“……! ……! ……!”
Unable to move, Sinclaire, her head turned helplessly.
Just then Sadi’s golem threw a kick with astonishing speed.
Spurt!
Sinclaire quickly tilted her head back to avoid Sadi’s sweeping kick, but she couldn’t dodge
the second kick that followed.
…Crunch!
A solid mid-kick. Even without seeing it, it was evident that all her ribs had been shattered,
puncturing her internal organs.
Sinclaire flew through the air as if the string had been cut, landing outside the examination
ground.
Simultaneously, a status window appeared.
Effective Hits: 3 times (1 point each)
Effective Evasions: 16 times (1 point each)
Effective Defense: 0 times (1 point each)
Critical Hits: 0 times (10 points each)
= Total Score: 19 points
The best talent in the Hot Department, she had never missed the top spot, but her total score
was merely 19 points—barely reaching the average.
“Sinclaire!!!!!”
Dolores, who had been terrified, caught Sinclaire as she fell.
A healing magic was cast on Sinclaire, who was coughing up blood.
Latecoming professors also hurriedly began treating Sinclaire.
Meanwhile, Sinclaire looked up at Dolores and faintly smiled.
“I’m sorry, President….”
“Don’t say anything, Sinclaire! It’ll take time for your internal injuries to heal!”
“Cough! Kuk! I won’t be able to receive the scholarship….”
Upon hearing that, Dolores held Sinclaire’s hand tightly with a tearful expression.
Honestly, Dolores could cover Sinclaire’s tuition fee herself. She came from a prestigious
family of Quovadis, and her financial situation was quite comfortable.
However,
To overcome everything with her own strength, whether it be exams or tuition, without
relying on anyone.
For Sinclaire, that self-reliance was crucial.
At that moment,
“Ho ho ho ho-”
Laughter echoed through the now silent arena. Professor Sadi, smiling broadly, looked at
Sinclaire’s tears.
“Crying because you won’t get the scholarship? Hey cutie, this teacher will pay for it, so
don’t cry. Why cry over something like that? It’s not like you’re a beggar.”
These weren’t words spoken out of ignorance but a deliberate attempt to overturn Sinclaire’s
emotions.
Sadi’s words, like thorns on the tip of her tongue, caused the expressions of students and
professors alike to freeze.
…However,
Even in such a situation, there was one person who showed no change in expression.
“…”
Vikir. He looked at Professor Sadi with his characteristic poker face, showing no reaction.
However,
When Professor Sadi opened her mouth to shout, even Vikir’s expression finally had a ripple.
“…”
“Alright, let’s get on with it. The next turn is Cold Department, Class B…”
Her lively eyeballs, like they were rolling around, turned in Vikir’s direction.
And then, without delay, her pale skin contrasted against her bright red lips, forming a gentle
smile.
“Our cute and fat Figgy. Are you ready to come up?”
“Ho Ho Ho”
——————

Chapter 193 Attack Exam (4)

Sinclaire, Leader of the Hot Department, was left with a dismal score on her record, the
overall atmosphere among the Hot Department students became gloomy.
She, who had always been spirited and cheerful, had somehow become an idol to the first-
year Hot Department students.
However, not everyone mourned the tragedy Sinclaire had experienced.
“Hehehe. That commoner girl. Finally, her arrogance has been flattened.”
“She grabbed the top spot in the Hot Department without knowing the subject. How
disgraceful.”
“Exactly. The head of the Hot Department should come from us nobles.”
“She probably used her pretty face to suck up to the professors and get extra points anyway.”
Some groups sneered sarcastically.
“Now, a person truly worthy of being the top student will take her place. Right, Granola.”
The leader of this group, composed exclusively of offspring from the empire’s prestigious
families, was none other than Granola.
However, he seemed oddly grimacing.
Despite the flattering words and remarks from subordinates and friends, he showed no
response.
“….”
His gaze was fixed on Sinclaire, who was suffering as she left with her belongings.
Sinclaire, who always worked hard and cheerfully in school, despite being from a commoner
background, never yielding to the influence of the nobles and demonstrating exceptional
academic achievements.
Now, Sinclaire was in distress, tears visible for the first time.
Snap!
Granola’s teeth gritted.
“Quiet down.”
At his words, the boys and girls from noble families fell silent.
Granola spoke in a low tone, “It wasn’t a fair match.”
“Huh?”
“Other professors will probably adjust her score, whether it’s through extra points or attitude
scores.”
The noble boys and girls nodded in agreement.
“As expected of Granola.”
“We can’t be complacent yet. The battle for the top spot is still ongoing.”
“Let’s show our true worth to this insignificant common girl!”
However, Granola still seemed bitter.
At that moment, there was a presence that slightly eased Granola’s expression.
“Professor Sadi, I told you to be reasonable, didn’t I?”
It was Professor Banshee Morg.
He spoke as if he could no longer tolerate the situation.
“What are you going to do?”
Professor Sadi asked confidently.
Then, other professors behind Banshee also walked forward and began to protest.
“Professor Sadi! Isn’t this going too far? Among the students you’ve harmed, there are those
under my guidance!”
“Professor Sadi, isn’t this going too far? Not only the incident with the magical barrier key,
but also allowing absence or half-day leave without notice and leaving the workplace without
permission were overlooked before.”
“Are you crazy? What are you thinking, constantly tormenting students? Where’s the fairness
in score discrimination?”
However, Professor Sadi showed no sign of backing down. Instead, she revealed sharp teeth
and even growled.
“These mongrels… Where did they come from, barking like that? Barking.”
As a result, the faces of the professors were filled with embarrassment and confusion.
Banshee stopped those who were about to step forward in anger.
“Looks like quite a crowd is watching.”
At last, the professors also became aware of the countless students gathered around.
Sadi’s attitude was shameless and arrogant to the point of being obvious.
“Sigh… If only he weren’t a descendant of Sade Marquis.”
Banshee, usually known as the “wax doll” by students for his lack of expression changes, was
folding his brow like a cooking foil, a rare sight.
“Anyway, this is your last chance, Sadi.”
“Ew, don’t call my name, commoner. If you must, say my full name and title together.”
“Donna Sienne Alphonse François Sadi de Sade, I’m not joking. If you are cruel to the
students again, I will personally exclude you from the midterms. If necessary, I will even
forge the principal’s seal to impose disciplinary action.”
Banshee’s momentum was genuinely threatening, releasing a real killing intent.
On the other hand, Sadi responded with a meaningful smile, ignoring Banshee’s anger.
Around that time, the next examinee stepped up to the exam podium.
It was Figgy from the Cold Department, Class B.
Figgy held the sword with trembling hands.
Seeing this, Sadi immediately snorted.
“Your sword handling is messed up. Are you trash?”
Sadi, who was warned not to use violence, immediately resorted to verbal violence.
But Figgy, despite trembling, did not step back.
“I’m not a coward. I promised to be a proud friend to Vikir. I can’t back down here!”
Sharp-minded Figgy knew well what awaited him.
Even the formidable Sancho and Sinclaire had been reduced to a sorry state; there was no
way he’d emerge unscathed.
But still, Figgy did not back down.
“This trial is a chance to break through my fragile shell and reveal the inner courage…”
Thunk!
However, Figgy’s thoughts were cut off midway.
“Fat trash.”
Sadi’s avatar, the Mud Golem, suddenly approached and kicked Figgy’s body like a football.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Figgy bounced three times on the cobblestone floor before collapsing.
In an instant, Figgy became covered in blood.
Even those who had disdained Figgy for being weak felt sympathy for him.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
At that moment, Tudor and Sancho, Figgy’s friends, were even more furious.
“Damn it! How dare she!”
“I’ve already been thrashed once. But seeing a friend treated like this is really…”
Both Tudor and Sancho had clenched fists, their faces turning red.
Just then,
“Now, the next examinee is up… Oh my?”
Sadi turned his head, about to continue, but he stopped abruptly.
Figgy, somehow managing to get up, was staggering back into position.
“…I won’t just accept defeat like this.”
Figgy, covered in bruises, but still holding the sword in his hands.
“I caused trouble for others in the Defense Exam. I don’t want to be like that anymore.”
After finishing his words, Figgy, with a battle cry, extended his sword forward.
Sadi laughed as if finding it ridiculous.
“Hohoho. Looks like we’ll have to make pig skewers.”
[TL/N: She is making fun of figgy and calling him a piggy~ pig bastard, yada yada.]
The Mud Golem started moving. A mud monster wearing pointed high heels like Professor
Sadi charged toward Figgy.
Tudor and Sancho were horrified.
“Figgy! Just lie down! Engaging in close combat with that crazy professor is impossible!”
“Courage and recklessness are different, Figgy! In this situation, surrendering would be
better!”
However, Sinclaire, who was next to them, had a slightly different opinion.
“….Indeed.”
“What?”
As Tudor and Sancho turned their heads, Sinclaire gestured toward the ground in front of
Professor Sadi.
“….Ah!”
Only then did they sigh in admiration.
Yes, Figgy was luring Sadi towards something. Where?
Into the mud hole he had been thrown into just moments ago!
In the previous match, Sinclaire had created muddy pits by alternating wind and ice magic,
causing the ground to freeze and thaw repeatedly. While the area where Professor Sadi was
standing remained solid stone, the arena where the golem was climbing had mud holes
scattered around. Figgy’s position was in the blind spot behind Sadi’s golem, shielded by its
back.
In other words, the golem imitating Sadi’s movements on the flat ground would soon fall into
the mud holes, providing a chance for a counterattack!
“As expected! Figgy’s strategic thinking is top-notch!”
“This could work!”
“He’s quite clever, isn’t he?”
“Go, Figgy! Show them your true abilities!”
Tudor, Sancho, Bianca, and Sinclaire began cheering for Figgy.
Figgy skillfully led Professor Sadi into a trap, using the terrain to launch a counterattack.
However,
“Oh my? Why’s Mud here?”
Professor Sadi’s genius talent dismissed all these variables as a joke.
Thud!
The golem’s high heel did not get stuck in the mud hole, or rather, even if it did, it
effortlessly lifted off the flat ground as if nothing happened.
“!?”
Figgy’s eyes widened in shock. His amazed gaze met the head of Professor Sadi’s golem,
which was thrust forward.
Figgy finally noticed Professor Sadi’s high heels.
Surprisingly, the heel had detached from the shoe and was stuck in the mud hole behind.
Yes, Professor Sadi had always walked on tiptoes to the limit, carrying the entire weight on
the toes, and the trained toes were capable of delivering a powerful kick.
However, Figgy only focused on it now.
“Yikes!?”
Figgy swung his sword belatedly, but it was about two seconds later than planned. Against
Professor Sadi, two seconds meant a world of difference.
Thunk!
Another dreadful impact resounded.
Figgy, not just covered in bruises but now drenched in blood, was sent flying out of the arena.
“FIGGY!!!!”
Figgy swung his sword late compared to the anticipated plan.
And facing Professor Sadi, two seconds late was a vast difference.
Thud!
Once again, a horrific sound of impact erupted.
Figgy, now not just bruised but completely covered in blood, was thrown out of the arena.
“Oh my? Are my pig skewers done~”
Professor Sadi, with a merciless remark, turned away.
Right at that moment, there was a sound that halted her footsteps.
“Ding!”
Figgy’s score appeared.
[Cold Department B-Class – Student Number 255 ‘Figgy’]
[Assigned Professor: Sadi]
Valid Hits: 1 (1 point each)
Valid Dodges: 0 (1 point each)
Valid Defense: 0 (1 point each)
Critical Hits: 0 (10 points each)
= Total Score: 1 point
1 point. Only one valid hit.
However, Professor Sadi had not allowed Figgy to land a single attack.
“What? There’s no way I would give 1 point to that trash.”
But Figgy’s score was undoubtedly 1 point.
At that moment,
“…!”
Professor Sadi’s eyes widened.
The broken blade from the knife she controlled was deeply embedded in the golem’s lower
abdomen.
***
“Figgy! Are you okay!?”
Tudor and Sancho rushed towards Figgy as if possessed.
Covered in blood, Figgy couldn’t stand up on his own. One eye was completely swollen shut.
“Hehe… Guys, I still scored 1 point.”
Upon hearing Figgy’s words, Tudor and Sancho fell silent for a moment. Figgy had clenched
the broken knife with his hand at the moment Sadi’s kick landed, then plunged it into the
golem’s body. Although the shattered blade had turned his hand into a mess, the score he
achieved was only 1 point.
“Bro… Well done. You did it.”
“You didn’t blink until you got hit. Even I couldn’t do that. It’s admirable.”
Tudor and Sancho spoke, supporting Figgy.
Figgy, seemingly without the strength to talk anymore, barely moved his lips, which were
stuck with dried blood.
At that moment, the medical team, in a hurry, started treating Figgy’s wounds. Dolores also
inspected Figgy’s condition with a worried expression.
“The left side of your head is severely injured. Can you see? You are on the verge of losing
your sight. If the healing was a bit delayed, it could have happened. Your vision might be
impaired for a while, so make sure to wear medical glasses.”
“…Still, I’m relieved. If you had gone blind, your mother would have suffered a lot.”
With a sigh of relief, Figgy’s words made Tudor, Sancho, Bianca, and Sincleare deeply
reflect on the situation.
Meanwhile, at the Examination Arena, Professor Banshee was delivering a final warning to
Sadi.
“Come out of the Examination Arena, Sadi. I will now revoke your test administrator
qualification. You, as a human, are not qualified to test the honor of a warrior. You’re
nothing but trash.”
Sadi, unimpressed by the scolding for her dishonorable actions, smiled disdainfully.
“A warrior? Where are the warriors in this academy? They’re all just losers.”
Simultaneously, she muttered quietly,
“Only ‘him,’ the one who wields the flame of the Hallowed Night, the caped hero, is a true
warrior.”
Banshee didn’t hear Sadi’s words.
“Come down right now. You have no qualifications as a professor. From this moment on, I’ll
strip you of all rights and authority as a test administrator.”
However, Banshee’s words were cut off in the middle.
“Next.”
A voice intruded into the conversation between Sadi and Banshee.
Vikir.
Always expressionless, he finally stood before the Examination Arena.
“I personally want to be tested by this professor.”
To a stranger, Vikir’s expressionless face might seem to have no thoughts. However, for
those who knew Vikir, they could see something calmly brewing beneath the surface.
Vikir was furious.
——————

Chapter 194 Attack Exam (5)

An unleashed hunting dog stepped onto the field.
Before Vikir ascended the test platform, he had a special meeting with Professor Banshee.
“Vikir”
With a cold gaze and voice, Professor Banshee, as usual, didn’t seem to have much affection
for Vikir.
However.
“As a professor, I must ensure that students are not in danger. So, I would prefer it if you
didn’t take Professor Sadi’s test.”
But Vikir again said,
“If possible, I wanted to take the test as planned according to the schedule. And I thought I
might gain some insight.”
“…What? Insight?”
Professor Banshee raised his eyebrows as if he couldn’t fathom Vikir’s thoughts.
Then he spoke firmly.
“There is nothing you can gain from people like Sadi. Except for experiencing that ‘there are
many unfair things happening in the world’ on an experiential level, there is nothing else.”
Professor Banshee’s attitude remained cold.
He took a few steps towards Vikir and extended a paper towards him.
[Surrender Document]
“I’ll still advise you to surrender, don’t worry about the grades.”
“…”
Most students would have given in at this point.
No, no one in the Colosseo Academy would dare to be stubborn against Professor Sadi.
Except one. Except Vikir.
Swish – Swish –
Vikir pushed away the document and handed it back to Professor Banshee with ease.
The nonchalance of his actions left everyone around with their mouths agape.
Even Professor Banshee, whose nickname as a wax doll paled in comparison to Vikir’s
inexplicable behavior, showed a significant change in expression.
“Do you really intend to face Sadi? You’re still incredibly arrogant.”
“…”
“All right, then. Greenhouse flowers grown solely with sweet fertilizers must experience the
bitterness of the world’s storms ahead of time. Only then will you be able to tell the
difference between genuine care and mere tolerance.”
Professor Banshee, with a heavily scornful expression, let out a snort.
After a while, it was Vikir’s turn.
“Are you guys done? These trashy pigs are always making noise.”
As Vikir ascended to the test site, the shadow controlled by Sadi’s golem loomed ominously
over him.
Professor Sadi looked at Vikir as if fascinated by his presence.
“I’m not interested in weak pigs, but… you seem a bit interesting. You dare to choose me,
you a mere commoner?”
“…”
“Are you friends with the small Figgy that came up earlier? Hohoho, that one’s left eye is
probably blind by now. How about you match it with your right eye? The duo of idiots and
trash. What do you think?”
Vikir did not bother to answer.
However.
Click –
He merely nocked an arrow on his bow.
Ping –
The arrow flew at a rapid speed.
But Sadi’s golem reacted surprisingly fast.
“Hohohoha, how will a mere archer beat me, did you even use your head?”
Archers generally fight by keeping their distance.
But in cases where points must be scored in a short time, advancing while shooting arrows
could be an effective method.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
However, Sadi’s physical abilities were truly monstrous.
She displayed incredible flexibility, swaying her waist like a bow to dodge all the flying
arrows.
Even Vikir, a genius in his own right, couldn’t help but be impressed by her instantaneous
reactions.
‘Twisted genius’ seemed to be a phrase created just for her.
Even professors who criticized her personality and behavior were silent in the face of her
skill.
‘What a waste. If only she had the character to match, she could have become a great warrior
contributing greatly to the Human Alliance.’
But Sadi didn’t seem like the type to fight for someone else.
The type who no one follows, no one respects, and no one loves. That was Professor Sadi.
‘Well then. There’s no need to watch.’
And now, Vikir was casting a cold glance at Professor Sadi.
Swish –
With a burst of energy, arrows flew.
Vikir strung a bundle of arrows on his bow and fired them at an incredible speed. Admiration
erupted from the surroundings.
“Wow! Who is that? He’s keeping up with Professor Sadi’s movements!”
“That short distance isn’t getting any shorter, is it? How is he avoiding that?”
“And look at the firing speed! It’s insane!”
Both students and professors were impressed by Vikir’s movements. Of course, during the
synchronization process with the golem, Professor Sadi’s mana was limited, and her
movements were sluggish. Nevertheless, for a first-year student to keep up with this was
undoubtedly remarkable.
However.
“Hohoho, he’s just an archer after all,” Professor Sadi said.
Vikir’s arrows had failed to make any effective hits on Professor Sadi’s Golem since the
beginning. The arrows either shattered or bounced off the golem’s body before reaching their
target.
Some arrows even veered off in strange directions, possibly miscalculating the wind’s
direction. Occasionally, arrows hit the golem but were not recognized as valid hits since they
struck the arms or legs and bounced off.
Watching from outside the test site, Bianca shook her head. “Archers really have no chance
in the attack test. I managed to get good scores because I had a mild-mannered professor. But
facing Professor Sadi, it’s nearly impossible to score even a single point.”
It was as she said. Tudor, Sancho, Sinclair, and even Figgy with a bandaged face wore
worried expressions.
Vikir continued to dodge the golem’s punches and kicks, picking up arrows from the ground
and firing them again. However, most arrows were either deflected by the golem’s palm or
fist or shattered and rendered useless. Gradually, the number of usable arrows was
decreasing.
“Hohoho, still going? You’re just another piglet,” Professor Sadi taunted.
Despite Vikir’s clever evasion strategy, the professor showed no intention of playing along.
“Hohoho, trying to accumulate points through valid evasions? What a rat-like idea. But I
cannot allow that!”
Finally, her whip swung more forcefully.
Thunk! Swish! Thunk! Crack!
Professor Sadi didn’t attack Vikir directly. It was an attitude of not giving away any evasion
points.
Instead, her whip struck the floor of the test site.
The once-circular test site began to crack and break under the impact of the whip. Eventually,
one corner of the test site took on a pointed shape, and sharp corners emerged naturally.
Professor Sadi seemed eager to push Vikir into that corner, but the circular shape of the test
site made it impossible.
Vikir, cleverly aware of this, continued to circle around, buying time.
Even though evasion earned points, Professor Sadi seemed unwilling to play along with
Vikir’s plan.
“Hohoho, still going? You’re not a piglet, but a rat, aren’t you?” Professor Sadi sneered.
Whatever the case, she couldn’t succeed in landing a single lash on Vikir.
It seemed like she couldn’t resist the urge to discard the golem and step in herself.
“Hateful child? You need punishment.”
Professor Sadi desperately wanted to corner Vikir, but the circular shape of the test site made
it impossible. Vikir, with mud and dust covering his body, rolled and dodged Professor Sadi’s
attacks. He managed to pick up relatively intact arrows and continued to shoot, persevering.
Just as Vikir attempted to escape the corner, the whip flew, leaving a shallow cut. Vikir was
truly cornered, resembling a trapped mouse. Everyone watching couldn’t help but sigh.
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, Sinclaire, and even Professor Banshee, who usually disliked
Vikir, looked anxious. Finally, Professor Sadi, now holding Vikir’s leash, triumphantly
declared,
“Where will you run now, little rat!”
Simultaneously, her hand holding the whip rose high. If struck by this whip charged with
aura, Vikir could suffer at least serious injuries, possibly even death.
Professor Banshee, speaking almost like a growl, said, “Have the medical team on standby.”
Professors swiftly moved into action. Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, Sinclair, and even
Dolores had unconsciously approached the test site. They were ready to catch Vikir if he fell
out of the test area.
…However.
“Huh?” Professor Sadi tilted her head, a subtle discomfort sensed in her arm for an instant. It
made her pause momentarily.
Squelch!
The joint area that the arrows had been brushing past suddenly felt strange. They had been
hitting a non-critical area that wasn’t being paid much attention because it didn’t count as a
valid hit.
Now, that spot felt oddly rigid.
——————
Chapter 195 Attack Exam (6)
Kiggik…
Felt like a weird glitch. Nevertheless, it was shocking to Professor Sadi.
The golem stopped.
The relentless whip assault, which felt as if it could overwhelm Vikir at any moment,
suddenly ceased.
‘…?’
Professor Sadi was taken aback, stepping back.
This time, the golem responded properly.
…?
Everyone watching was puzzled by the scene.
“What’s going on? Why did she stop attacking after going at Vikir so aggressively?”
“Is it because of the mood? It looked like the golem stopped for a moment.”
“Anyway, it’s an opportunity! Run, kid!”
“Surrender! You might die if you keep going!”
As Professor Sadi’s golem started moving again, all spectators shouted in unison.
“This is ridiculous. What was that just now?”
Mud golems or stone golems often experience glitches, but these are usually minor issues that
disappear during test runs.
Professor Sadi raised her whip again, aiming for Vikir. Up and down, up again, then down
once more—a repeated motion.
However…
Kiggik!
Once again, the movement was halted.
Jjaak!
The whip, falling toward Vikir, stopped midway, destroying an unintended area.
“What the heck is this!?”
Annoyed, Professor Sadi shook her hand and stepped back.
At that very moment.
Dda-ang!
Vikir, who had escaped from the corner, shot an arrow into the lower abdomen of the golem
once again.
Kiggik!
The golem stopped briefly.
Witnessing this, the professors and students erupted in excitement.
“That’s it! I understand now!”
“He kept hitting the same spot over and over! That’s why it stopped!”
“He continuously targeted the area, causing wear and tear, degrading its performance!”
“Wow, what incredible accuracy!”
Belatedly, the students also began to react.
“Wait, he kept hitting the same spot with arrows? Is that even possible?”
“It is! He’s an amazing archer!”
“Yeah! I saw him shoot equally with Bianca at the archery range last time!”
“During the defense test, his aura seemed almost at the level of a High-Tier Sword Expert!”
“Who is he really?”
Public opinion made a swift reversal. Cheers for Vikir, the unexpected dark horse, and jeers
for the antagonist, Professor Sadi.
“Great!”
Tudor, who was cheering outside the arena, cheered triumphantly, “Vikir, you’ve been
consistently targeting the golem’s joint and connecting point in the lower abdomen! You
deserve recognition for your archery skills!”
However, Sancho, who was standing nearby, tilted his head.
“Consistently hitting the same spot without a single error is undoubtedly impressive, but…
can it really make Professor Sadi’s golem stumble like that?”
The answer to their curiosity came from Sinclaire.
“It’s partly because of his arrows, but Professor Sadi’s habits played a role too.”
“Habits?”
“Yes. Professor Sadi uses a whip. Where do you think she exerts the most force when using
it?”
“Well, the lower abdomen, correct? Given the structure of the golem, both the arms and legs
move by exerting force on the lower abdomen. Furthermore, the whip’s nature as a weapon
contributes to this.”
“That’s right. So Vikir consistently aimed for the lower abdomen. If he makes the joint and
connection point fragile, he can seal both the arms and legs. The power and accuracy of the
whip will weaken.”
“…Is that possible? That area is much smaller than a typical joint. It has to be an extremely
precise shot for such precise sniping.”
Tudor and Sancho exchanged puzzled looks at Sinclaire’s explanation.
Bianca, joining the conversation, added her insight.
“He can do it.”
Turning everyone’s attention, Bianca spoke with determination.
“Last time, when we were doing archery together at the shooting range… that guy shot and
killed a mosquito flying over a hundred meters away. Without using mana.”
“Come on, does that make sense?”
“I’m telling you, it’s true!”
While Tudor and Bianca were bantering, Sinclaire regretfully messed up her hair, blaming
herself.
“Oh, the joint in the lower abdomen was the weak point. Vikir is always one step ahead of
me. Why didn’t I think of that?”
At that moment, a voice resolved everyone’s questions: Dolores, the student council
president.
“Of course. It’s a weakness that didn’t exist when you faced Professor Sadi.”
Everyone looked puzzled at Dolores’s statement, and there was a strange expression on
Figgy’s face as he turned his head.
“Do you remember the blade fragment that Figgy embedded in?”
Only after hearing Dolores’s words did everyone gasp. Even Figgy himself.
The blade fragment Figgy inserted into the golem at the last moment became a counterattack,
causing a minor weakness. And Vikir, with unwavering confidence, saw through that flaw
and firmly grasped it.
When Professor Banshee realized this, he couldn’t help but look defeated as he stood in front
of the arena.
“…That insolent brat.”
When he noticed Professor Sadi’s golem twitching, he twisted his lips in disbelief.
Despite having faced numerous students before, this was the first time a student dared to
challenge her to a battle of wits. It was also the first time this had happened to the renowned
Professor Banshee!
As time passed, public opinion was increasingly favoring Vikir.
“You’re doing great, kid! Keep pushing!”
“It’s a chance to score big points!”
“Go! Vikir! Stay strong!”
“Show us the power of a commoner!”
“Oppa, you’re so cool!”
Cheers and responses erupted from the audience, pushing Vikir forward.
However…
“Hilarious, hohohoho”
Professor Sadi once again reversed all these currents.
She immediately adjusted her posture.
The seemingly precarious pose that looked like it could collapse at any moment returned to
its original state in an instant.
Her extraordinary sense of balance with those unstable-looking heels was truly remarkable.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
At the same time, her whip swept around like a fierce snake.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwack! Thud! Duduk! Eudddeuk!
Broken arrow shafts and shattered arrowheads scattered in all directions.
The arrows that were stuck in the ground or wriggling around were all shattered and
scattered.
Professor Sadi, instead of attacking Vikir, was preventing the use of the surrounding arrows.
Almost all the seemingly intact arrows disappeared in an instant.
In fact, the battle had practically ended.
Ho-ho-ho. What can an archer do without arrows?
Professor Sadi chuckled with a mischievous smile on one side of her mouth.
It was true.
Vikir didn’t have a single arrow left.
All the supplied arrows were long gone, and trying to pick up the ones stuck or fallen on the
ground resulted in most of them being nearly broken after several shots.
And the ones that flew off in strange directions due to the wind were practically impossible to
retrieve.
Moreover, with the recent sneak attack from Professor Sadi’s whip, all the remaining arrows
were broken. Vikir had no means of attack left.
“…”
“…”
“…”
As Vikir became aware of the harsh reality, the cheers from the audience rapidly diminished.
“Ho-ho-ho-ho. Do you understand now, piglet?”
Professor Sadi swung her whip on the ground a few times as she spoke.
“Vikir, right? There’s still quite some time left in the exam. What will you do? Give up
midway? Or do you want to play more with this kawai big sister~?”
However…
“…”
Vikir remained expressionless, standing still.
His posture didn’t convey any intention to give up on the exam or to continue fighting.
“…?”
Professor Sadi furrowed her brows in confusion.
Although Vikir’s eyes were mostly hidden by his bangs, it was clear that his gaze was
directed towards her.
An uncomfortable gaze.
It wasn’t the gaze of someone cornered but rather the eyes of a predator viewing her as prey.
For a moment…
Chills!
Professor Sadi shivered.
Where did this spine-chilling feeling come from?
…Creepy!
Professor Sadi shook herself once.
The eerie sensation crawling up her spine was truly mysterious.
The opponent was a first-year academy student, an insignificant commoner, and an archer
without arrows.
But for a brief moment, Professor Sadi felt overwhelmed by the indescribable aura emanating
from this insignificant commoner.
It was similar to the instinctual reaction of a frog in front of a snake or a gambler recognizing
a god level gambler.
However, reason triumphs over emotion.
Professor Sadi quickly regained her composure and realized the obvious fact that there was
no reason for this insignificant commoner in front of her to be a threat.
And for a very brief moment, she felt a scratch on her sturdy pride…
‘…Could it be because of this?’
Professor Sadi was angry.
If it were her usual self, she would have respected and trusted her instincts.
But now, for a moment, she succumbed to her pride and roared like a predator confronting its
prey.
“This insolent brat!”
“How dare you, you arrogant pig, you don’t even understand the subject, how dare you look
at me like that…!”
Her eyes widened as she growled.
Professor Sadi, who had been fixated on Vikir, saw his lips curl into a small smile at that
moment.
It was so small that no one else could have seen it.
A message that could only be deciphered by looking at the shape of the lips.
‘Where are you looking, blinded by rage?’
Sadi’s eyes widened unexpectedly.
At the same time.
…Puck!
A strange sound was heard…
It sounded like something soft popping, and it had to be very close.
“…?”
Professor Sady blinked a few times, her eyes wide.
Her left eye felt strangely hot, and then her vision went black.
At the same time.
“……! ……! ……! ……!”
A searing pain began to engulf the entire left side of her face.
——————
Chapter 196 Attack Exam (7)
‘Where the hell are you looking?’
A message that could only be deciphered by looking at the shape of the lips.
At the same time.
…Thunk!
The view of the left eye went pitch black.
“Aaaargh!”
The horrific scream of Professor Sadi echoed throughout the arena.
The left side of her face was in intense pain!
However, the golem’s face remained unscathed, without a single arrow mark.
“…? …? …?”
Professor Sadi reached out and felt her left face.
Touched.
A thick and sturdy arrow shaft embedded in, and a hot liquid flowing where the eyeball
should be.
An arrow shaft. It was deeply lodged in Professor Sadi’s left eye.
The spectators were speechless, shocked by the unexpected accident.
“Wh-What is happening? Why did this happen all of a sudden?”
“Did the direction of the wind change? An arrow flew in from somewhere!”
“Isn’t that the arrow Vikir shot earlier? In the early stages of the match!”
“Oh, come on. That’s not possible. Why would it come flying now?”
“It must be because the wind changed, bringing back the arrow that flew to a strange place in
the early stages!”
“Is it even possible in this world?”
“No one could have predicted such an unprecedented accident.”
Even the faculty was stunned by this absurd situation.
“Wait, I’ve seen students getting hurt a lot, but it’s the first time I’ve seen a professor get
injured.”
“And it’s Professor Sadi of all people. Haha, truly… you could call this karma.”
“Oh my. A colleague got hurt, and you’re talking about karma! This is not the time for that!”
“Should we discipline that student Vikir then?”
“Why would you say that? It’s not like the student did it on purpose. It’s just a natural
disaster, isn’t it?”
In the early stages of the match, among the many misfires by Vikir, one arrow soared high on
the wind and fell in a circular motion.
In other words, it was purely an accidental incident.
Moreover, Professor Sadi was so focused on controlling the golem imitating her movements
that she failed to detect the arrow falling toward her.
Her limited field of vision as a result of her rage and obsession was also a disadvantage.
-Ding!
The score sheet appeared at that time, along with the notification sound announcing the end
of the test.
[Cold Department Class B, No 256, Name – ‘Vikir’, Attack exam]
[Instructor: Sadi]
-Effective Hits: 2 times (1 point each)
-Effective Evasion: 28 times (1 point each)
-Effective Defense: 0 times (1 point each)
-Critical Hit: 1 time (10 points each)
=Total Score: 40 points
With two effective hits, Vikir scored 2 points, and with twenty-eight effective evasions, he
scored 28 points.
It was the result of Vikir continuously evading the whip attacks.
And finally, the attack on Professor Sadi’s main body was counted as one critical hit, earning
10 points.
Since the golem was rendered inoperable, it could be considered a critical hit.
Although scoring a personal injury incident appeared ambiguous, the magic system appeared
to have made the decision.
Since the establishment of the Colosseo Academy, there had never been a case where a
professor was injured during a test, so everyone was understandably bewildered.
Anyway.
Vikir’s total score was 40 points, setting a new record for the year.
And this was despite Professor Sadi being the instructor.
As the faculty looked at the score display, they whispered among themselves in disbelief.
“Haha… She was so focused on tormenting the student in front of her that she didn’t realize
the danger.”
“It’s just bad luck. Who would think that an arrow would come flying at them from
nowhere?”
“It’s self-inflicted. She brought this upon herself.”
“But then, how should we grade that student Vikir?”
“What do you mean, how? The magic system has already calculated it as 40 points.”
“But if we do that, won’t some students intentionally target professors in the future?”
“That doesn’t make sense. How did you leap over towards such a distant concern? Today’s
events are just an unlucky accident.”
“Until now, unprecedented events are causing confusion among the professors.”
Even among the professors, opinions were divided. Some argued that this incident was an
accident, and Vikir’s critical hit score should be recognized as valid points. Others believed
that, despite being an accident, Vikir’s critical hit score should be excluded from the
calculation.
Nevertheless, there was no disagreement that this incident was an accident.
Meanwhile, Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, and Bianca showed strong reactions.
“I-Is it over?”
“Well, Vikir won the match!”
“Winning or losing in this match? It’s just about scoring within the time limit!”
“But how can this be? Only Professor Sadi got the short end of the stick!”
Even Dolores, who usually enjoyed such situations, heaved a relieved sigh at the reactions of
her juniors.
While it was unfortunate that an arrow ended up in Professor Sadi’s eye, it didn’t feel
excessive. Considering how she had nearly deliberately blinded Figgy’s left eye before, and
the trauma created in the minds of many talented individuals over time, it seemed like a mild
punishment.
At that moment.
“Enough! All tests are halted right here!”
Professor Banshee’s booming shout echoed throughout the entire arena.
He, along with specialized healing professors, ascended to the arena.
“Vikir, the test is over. You can descend now.”
In response, Vikir simply nodded without uttering a word.
Under Professor Banshee’s guidance, all kinds of tests taking place in the vast arena were
abruptly stopped.
Soon, medical personnel dressed in white rushed to respond to Professor Banshee’s call.
As they were only present in the areas where students were taking the test, it took them some
time to reach the space where the professors stayed.
Eventually, Professor Banshee approached Sadi, who was sitting down, and said, “Professor
Sadi, please get treatment. And let’s refrain from any more reckless behavior after this
incident, shall we…?”
However, Professor Sadi did not even seem to hear Professor Banshee’s words.
“Hoho… hohoho-”
Suddenly, Sadi began to laugh.
Despite the blood oozing between her fingers covering her face, she continued to laugh.
Then, Sadi removed the hand covering her face.
“…Umm.”
Professor Banshee frowned.
The arrow sticking out of her left eye, the distorted flesh around it, and the spouting blood
were all too vivid.
“Professor Sadi, please get treatment… Huh!?”
In an instant, Professor Banshee’s face was stained with shock.
The students, professors, and spectators who had witnessed this scene were equally
astonished.
“W-What is she doing now?”
“Ugh! Is she insane?”
“MY GOD… What am I witnessing right now?”
Each one had a similar reaction.
Squelch!
Sadi forcefully pulled the arrow out of her left eye.
The straight arrow shaft and the sharp tip were still intact.
At the end of it was the eyeball that had just been extracted from its socket.
Everyone was overwhelmed by the madness in Sadi’s act of pulling out her own eye.
And then, at that moment.
Sadi, with her mouth wide open, sent another shockwave through everyone.
Chomp-
Sadi began to chew on the eyeball impaled on the arrowhead.
The sound of the eyeball being crushed and chewed echoed loudly in the ears of all
spectators.
Professor Banshee, too, was petrified with astonishment, as were the students and professors.
“Wh-What is she doing right now?”
“Ugh! She’s gone mad!”
“Unbelievable…”
Each had a similar reaction.
And suddenly, Sadi laughed.
“My grandfather’s inheritance. Why waste it if I can use it? Hohohoho~”
In the madness-laden smile, the medical personnel couldn’t approach, and even Professor
Banshee was left speechless and partially open-mouthed.
Ignoring the medical personnel, Sadi looked at them and said, “I don’t need your help.”
After finishing her words, she rolled her now lone remaining eye back.
There, you could see Vikir descending from the arena, seemingly indifferent to everything…
His gaze was already directed elsewhere, as if the events that had unfolded so far were of no
significance.
Professor Sadi’s other eye also had a hint of bloodshot.
“Hohooho- amusing. It’s so amusing. That guy… was from Class B, right?”
Only now did Professor Sadi turn her head to look at Professor Banshee, as if questioning
when he had climbed up to the arena.
“Discipline me. I don’t care.”
“…”
“Instead. On the day my discipline is lifted, I will immediately take charge of the Cold
Department Class B.”
In Professor Sadi’s voice, flowing out as if possessed, there was a bizarre fervor that instilled
fear in all the professors and students of the Cold Department.
And directed towards that audience.
Wink-
Sadi merely winked, with no eye, just an eyesocket…
“That was just a wink. Hohoho”
Truly a weird woman.
***
The long midterms were finally over.
Defense, Attack, Written Tests.
When the comprehensive results of these exams, with weights of 50%, 40%, and 10%
respectively, were announced, everyone was surprised.
1st place: Vikir
2nd place: Sinclaire
3rd place: Tudor Donquixote
4th place: Highbro Le Baskerville
5th place: Granola De Reviadon
6th place: Bianca Usher
7th place: Middlebro Le Baskerville
8th place: Sancho Barataria
9th place: Lowbro Le Baskerville
…
199th place: Figgy
…
The students who had lost a significant number of points by encountering Professor Sadi in
the Attack exam saw their scores restored. This was due to questionable bonus points being
added to the written test scores. Although the written test had a smaller weight, it was a key
element that could completely overturn the balance, and students who had unfairly lost points
to Professor Sadi could now receive compensation.
However…
Among the students who took the exam against Professor Sadi, the only one who didn’t
receive bonus points was Vikir.
The sole perfect score.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
Vikir, who had produced shockingly impressive research results in the free research report for
the written test, couldn’t be given bonus points.
Although he had achieved commendable scores in the Defense Test and obtained high points
against Professor Sadi in the Attack Test, Vikir, with his contributions in resolving the
magical stone incident, single-handedly carrying the Defense Test, and dealing a critical hit
to Professor Sadi, secured the top spot in this year’s class.
…Of course, this was not the result Vikir had wanted.
Initially, Vikir had only intended to perform well in the written test without drawing attention
to himself. He didn’t want to be in the spotlight.
However, in the Defense Test, Baby madam accidentally caused an incident, and in the
Attack Test, there were various variables, including Professor Sadi almost blinding Figgy.
As a result of these events, Vikir deeply reflected on himself, realizing the lack of
thoroughness on his part.
But whether Vikir was having such thoughts or not, the students around him didn’t give him
a break, swarming and clamoring.
“Vikir! How are you.”
“I honestly thought just your brain was good, but your physique is no joke either.”
“Hey, oppa~, Do you wanna go on a date with me~?”
“Well, you have aura, combat senses, monster strategies – you have everything.”
“If your head is in good shape, your body is in good shape, and if your body is in good shape,
your head is in good shape. Everything must be comfortable for you because you’re good at
both!”
“Hey, aren’t you blatantly flattering him too much? Didn’t you call him a stinky commoner
before?!”
“You too! Aren’t you in the wrong place too?”
“I’m taking the seat next to Vikir.”
“I’m sorry, but even if you offer me money, I won’t sell my seat.”
“Vikir, do you happen to be interested in joining our study group? Only students from well-
off families or those who excel in their studies are in our group.”
“Have this while studying. You looked cool yesterday.”
“Hey, who are you having lunch with today? If you don’t have anyone to eat with, how about
having lunch with me?”
“All the professors have been talking about you. When I went to the office, they were all
admiring the exam paper you submitted.”
“Vikir! The senior nobles are looking for you!”
“Amazing! I saw this morning that even the high-class seniors were looking for Vikir!?”
Amidst the numerous voices around him, Vikir only slightly furrows his brow.
Then.
“Hey, what’s everyone staring at? Get outta here!”
A rugged-looking male student pushed through the crowd.
Highbro Le Baskerville.
“I’m the hero of Class B, the cold-blooded warrior. So, don’t stick around and fawn over this
commoner. I’ll kill him.”
Blatantly forcing the issue, Highbro, with his impressive 4th overall ranking, left few students
who dared to protest in the face of his determination.
The cowed students return to their seats.
Only then does Highbro, unnoticed by anyone, gesture with his thumb toward Vikir.
‘We’ve taken care of everything.’
‘…Well done.’
No words need to be spoken; their intentions are clear.
Highbro received Vikir’s praise, and happily returned to his seat.
However, criticism from Middlebro and Lowbro followed him.
“You’re insufferable, bro!”
“Just wanting praise for yourself!”
“If you feel unjust, watch the master’s mood well, like me…”
The triplets of Baskerville have now become loyal henchmen only taking Vikir’s orders.
But some individuals didn’t care about them.
“Vikir! How’s your body?”
It was Tudor, Sancho, Bianca, Figgy, Sinclaire, and others.
As soon as Tudor entered the classroom, he patted Vikir’s shoulder and laughed.
“This guy! If you had that kind of strength, you should have reported to me first! I worried
for nothing!”
Fortunately, the friends’ attitude did not change even after seeing Vikir’s strength.
Although Tudor and Sinclaire were a bit disappointed.
“Oh, Vikir, I couldn’t say it in the room earlier because of the situation. I have something to
show you!”
Figgy stepped forward and handed something to Vikir.
It was articles from yesterday’s evening newspaper.
“[Breaking News] Massive Incident During Defense Exam! 1st-Year Cold Department
student Handles the Situation!? / Views: 50,899
-The mid-term Defense Exam for first-year students is a traditional test that everyone must go
through at least once… However, a recent incident during this exam… This major accident
occurred due to a lack of safety awareness… At that time, as the blame-shifting among
professors escalated, a male student stepped forward to save everyone… Meanwhile, the
main cause of this commotion is attributed to Professor Sadi, who left her workplace without
permission with the key to the magic barrier… Finally, attaching a video capturing the heroic
appearance of 1st-year hero Vikir, who pierced through the poisonous mist and emerged from
the barrier, to this article…”
[Comment: 33,021]
ㅇㅇ(Cold Department 1st-Year): Wow;;; Look at him tearing through the poisonous mist;;;
So cool… powerful…乃乃乃
↳ㅇㅇ(Hot Department 2nd-Year): Is this the guy? Why is he there… that… my husband ㅎ
↳ㅇㅇ(Hot Department 1st-Year): Wasn’t his name Vikir? Anyway, it was quite a common
name, right?
ㅇㅇ(Hot Department 4th-Year): Wow, but tearing through the poisonous mist for friends is
truly legendary, right?
↳ㅇㅇ(Hot Department 2nd-Year): They say noble 2nd-years and 3rd-years are having a
showdown inside the academy right now ㅋㅋㅋ
ㅇㅇ(Cold Department 2nd-Year): Isn’t the showdown only happening inside the academy??
Outside the academy, guilds and clans are already lining up to recruit him as soon as he
graduates ㅋㅋㅋ
↳ㅇㅇ(Cold Department 3rd-Year): Seriously??? He’s just a 1st-year now, right??
↳ㅇㅇ(Hot Department 3rd-Year): Revealing his prowess already, he’s not at the 1st-year
level anymore ㅋㅋㅋ Even the graduation class can’t do that~
.
.
In the newspaper shown by Figgy, a video shot with a mana screen is playing.
The scene where Vikir tears through the magical barrier filled with poisonous mist and shoots
arrows is causing a surge in views.
‘…When did they even shoot this.’
Vikir rubbed his forehead with his hand.
He felt extremely tired from briefly taking a break after the mid-term exam and then going on
an assassination mission.
Now, with the newspaper article, it seemed like things would become even more troublesome
for a while.
At that moment.
“Why are you all gathering in front of the 1st-year classroom? Do you want to face
disciplinary action?”
A cold voice is heard from the classroom entrance, towards the corridor.
Professor Banshee is driving away a group of students.
They are likely upperclassmen from the 2nd and 3rd years.
Noble and Great Clan Factions.
A group made up of the children of noble families and a group made up of the children of the
seven great clans.
Although not officially recognized as a formal group like the student council, they exercise
more rights across all grades, forming an autonomous body called the Autonomous Council.
They are here to capture the rising dark horse Vikir.
Of course, despite their imposing presence, ultimately they are students, and facing the cold
gaze of Professor Morg Banshee, they ran.
“…”
Professor Banshee.
As soon as he entered, he found Vikir sitting by the window.
With a voice as cold as pouring cold water, Professor Banshee woke up Vikir, who was
dozing off a bit.
“Vikir, wake up.”
“Yes.”
“Are you daydreaming with your eyes closed again? I wonder what kind of research you’ll do
today to astonish the academic world.”
“No, I just dozed off.”
“…Honest, aren’t you? Minus one point.”
Professor Banshee still disliked Vikir.
Ever since the bell rang, he emphasized the start of the class immediately, and he considered
Vikir dozing off during class time a valid reason for deducting points.
“Ugh, Professor Banshee is at it again.”
“He always deducts Vikir points, right?”
“What can we do? Vikir has accumulated so many points again that he has to go on another
forced volunteer activity!”
“But isn’t it chaotic outside because of the current situation?”
“But soon it will be festival season. It would be too unfair to do volunteer work inside the
academy while everyone else is enjoying the party outside.”
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, Sinclaire, and others expressed their concerns, but…
“…”
Of course, Vikir completely ignored Professor Banshee’s scolding, as his mind was already
filled with the contents of the letter sent by CindiWendy last night.
“…Information about the ten corpses have arrived.”
The boring part is now over.
He will once again go out to the battlefield where blood and flesh abound.
Vikir, with his eyes closed, was already filled with the anticipation of his next hunt.
——————
injured underclassman.
“Oh my? Look at this little girl.”
Ms. Sadi flicked her whip from her hip. Then, with a clatter, she took a few steps toward
Dolores, who was being scrutinized.
“Where does a blood-stained wench like you get the nerve to glare at an adult? Is this how a
student council president behaves?”
“…”
“Ho ho ho, my, does your daddy Humbert know how you’re looking at me?”
Dolores’ body became drenched in an even colder sweat as Ms. Sadi gradually exuded an
oppressive aura. Despite the fact that Dolores had faced Dantalian and grown, Ms. Sadi’s
intimidating presence was entirely different—a truly ‘diabolical’ menace.
At that moment,
“Enough of your disdain for exemplary students, Ms. Sadi.”
A voice interrupted Ms. Sadi’s words. Banshee Morg, blocking Dolores’ way, confronted
Ms. Sadi.
Dolores felt the pressure that had been bearing down on her vanish as Banshee stood between
her and Ms. Sadi.
Meanwhile, Banshee warned Ms. Sadi in a low voice.
“Is this your attitude during the sacred midterms? Excessive testing for the assigned student
was bad enough, and now resorting to verbal abuse and violence… Do you want to be fired?”
“Tch-”
In response to Banshee’s words, Ms. Sadi spat out a glob of phlegm.
“What is this?”
An expression of disbelief crept onto Banshee’s face at Ms. Sadi’s insolence.
However, Ms. Sadi ignored it and retrieved something from her waist—a large glass bottle,
half filled with vodka. She bit into the long, narrow neck of the bottle.
Crunch, crunch.
Chewing on the glass shards as if they were candy, she swallowed them along with the
vodka. Banshee stared at her, dumbfounded.
“Is that alcohol? No, how can you behave like this in an exam where students’ lives are at
stake?”
“This isn’t alcohol, old man~”
“Do you even smell alcohol?”
“The alcohol percentage in this is merely 35%, what kind of alcohol is that? It’s just water.”
“This insane woman…”
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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——————
As Banshee’s words started to lengthen, Ms. Sadi turned her head abruptly. Then, as if to
signal that she didn’t care to listen, she provocatively stuck out her tongue.
“Things have certainly improved in the world. It’s quite a sight to see a lowly Morg servant,
who used to handle corpses and clean the mortuary, able to provoke the wrath of someone
from the Sade Family.”
However, Banshee also had immense pride in his lineage.
“Hmph! That’s a story from hundreds of years ago. Now it’s Morg, one of the seven great
clans. Besides, how much did the Sade marquisate fall? Your position is nothing more than a
junior viscount at best.”
“Ah, what a dull world. Everything should just go to ruin.”
Ms. Sadi, having pretended not to hear, turned her head away as if she couldn’t be bothered.
Professor Banshee issued a warning to her.
“How far do you think the principal’s protection will go? If you continue to mistreat students
recklessly in the next exam, I will discipline you with the authority as the next vice-
principal.”
“Nay, nay, bitch. Try me.”
While Ms. Sadi still didn’t show any sign of acknowledging, she no longer laughed or
ignored the words that Professor Banshee spat out while alive.
Professor Banshee put pressure on her and turned away.
He knew very well why she was allowed to continue teaching despite causing casualties
every year.
The preservation of nobility. The nobility believed that if their dignity was excessively
tarnished, it shouldn’t be tolerated. There were a few more factors.
One of them was her unparalleled combat sense. Additionally, she possessed genius abilities
in criminal psychology, predicting and tracking criminals ahead of time, and excelling at
apprehending them.
‘Only a lunatic can understand other lunatics?’
Professor Banshee shook his head slightly.
Ms. Sadi was undoubtedly a genius when it came to talent and ability, but due to her twisted
character, it was difficult to utilize her.
Looking at it now, the promising elite, Sancho Barataria, was severely battered by her.
Fortunately, Sancho had a resilient spirit, and there didn’t seem to be any significant trauma
yet.
How many promising elites had suffered from traumas that made them wet themselves just
hearing Ms. Sadi’s laughter after what she did to them.
Many dropped out or withdrew from school mid-term. Even those who managed to graduate
often became fragile and unable to engage in fights anywhere else.
Considering this, Professor Banshee felt grateful to Sancho, who had a strong spirit. Dolores,
standing next to him, also looked at Sancho with pity.
Sancho’s luck was incredibly bad. Of all people, it had to be ‘her,’ Ms. Sadi.
But the nightmare had only just begun.
“Ho ho ho. Come on up next. I promise, I’ll be gentle from now on~”
Ms. Sadi continued to call her assigned students to the arena.
Snap—Crack!
She slapped her mud golem avatar’s thorny vine whip against the ground a few times.
Eventually, the next student in line ascended to the arena.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
As everyone had anticipated, the results were just as expected. The student in question failed
to land a single effective hit on the mud golem and retired after being tortured by the whip,
achieving 0 effective hits, 4 effective evasions, 0 effective defenses, and 0 critical hits.
The next student to step up after Sancho managed a pitiful score of only 4 points, shedding
tears in the process. Subsequently, the pattern continued – no one could successfully attack
the golem imitating Ms. Sadi’s movements, merely dodging the relentless whip onslaught.
Moreover, once hit, defending against subsequent attacks became nearly impossible.
Scores like 4, 3, 8, 6, 5, 7, 4… it was a parade of dismal results.
The 17 points Sancho scored seemed incredibly high in comparison.
Meanwhile, the professors watching were each grinding their teeth.
“Sadi, that crazy woman is dragging down the average scores!”
“Watching this unreasonable exam year after year makes my stomach churn!”
“Why does the principal keep favoring her?!”
“Maybe it’s the last bit of respect for the fallen Marquis Sade.”
“Damn it. Such irrational and unjust treatment. Shouldn’t social status and class be divided
differently?”
“There’s nothing we can do. It seems the students in that segment were just unlucky.”
“Later, we could give extra points for assignments or behavior to those students who suffered
in grades.”
“Still, from the vice principal’s perspective, it’s fortunate to have her. Lowering the
principal’s approval ratings.”
While these complex thoughts were swirling among the professors, Ms. Sadi continued to
laugh gleefully, turning the students into pitiful wrecks.
“Ho ho ho. Training dogs and making them sweat is quite fun. Well, not just sweat, but
turning them into a bloody MESS, HO HO HO.”
Watching her whip students and treating them like dogs had already incurred the anger of
many.
This wasn’t about a teacher educating their students but rather a strong person unilaterally
assaulting the weak.
Finally, after giving a score of 4 points and retiring the student who had just faced her, Ms.
Sadi summoned the next one to be trained.
And…
“Oh? You seem like a somewhat talented dog. Worth training, I guess.”
Ms. Sadi’s eyes lingered on a student standing beneath the arena.
Expressionless face, and always exuding a cold aura.
It was Vikir’s Turn.
——————

Chapter 197 Festival Preparation

After the completion of midterms, a brief period of relaxation found its way to the Colosseo
Academy. Following the philosophy of “study hard when it’s time to study, and play hard
when it’s time to play,” the Colosseo Academy organizes a grand festival every year to
soothe the weary minds of students after midterms.
As the festival season approaches, there is a tendency among professors to shorten class
hours and extend break times. This is to encourage students to think about and discuss
festival activities. However, not everyone agrees with this approach.
“Shortened classes? Ridiculous.” Banshee Morg, for example, was one of those
straightforward individuals. Known for his strict and sensitive nature, he becomes even more
irritable during the festival season.
“Shortening classes in the name of festival preparations? That goes against the duty of a
professor. Students pay hefty tuition fees to attend classes, and reducing those classes
infringes on the rights of students. I simply cannot understand how canceling classes in the
name of benefiting students is just a selfish and convenient act driven by the professor’s own
desires…”
Professor Banshee muttered discontentedly, looking out the window at banners, flower
arrangements, makeshift stages, tents, sound equipment, and fireworks facilities.
“In that sense, today’s class is extended. It will be one hour longer than the usual lecture time,
so please bear with it,” Professor Banshee announced in a chilly tone, and no one dared to
object.
Tudor in the front row grumbled with a fake smile. “Darn it, I’m on the festival preparation
committee! I already have to leave 30 minutes early even during regular class times…”
“Heh, is this for real? I heard from seniors that Professor Banshee does this every festival
season.”
“He clearly never enjoyed his school days.”
“Yeah, it seems like he only studied.”
Even Bianca, in a similar situation, seemed frustrated and agreed with Tudor’s opinion.
At that moment, Professor Banshee spoke up, “Hey, what’s with all the grumbling? If you’re
on the festival preparation committee, is it worth the tuition? And who hasn’t had a good time
during his own school festival?”
“…,” Tudor and Bianca fell silent, and Professor Banshee chuckled lightly when they had
nothing to say.
“Don’t get carried away just because it’s festival season. This is the season with the most
accidents throughout the year.”
Having finished speaking, Professor Banshee deducted one point each from the attitudes of
Tudor and Bianca.
Eventually, when Professor Banshee tried to resume the class, loud music from outside
interrupted.
“Ding-dong ♩♪♬”
The Imperial Army’s dispatched military band was tuning their instruments before their
performance. Elsewhere, a dance team invited to the festival was rehearsing their
choreography before taking the makeshift stage. Additionally, the excited cheers of students
who had come out for festival preparations during their free time mixed with the chaotic
noise.
Despite using soundproof curtains and even employing silence spells on the windows,
Professor Banshee sighed lightly at the outside commotion.
“…This is why I hate festivals.”
***
Eventually, even the renowned Professor Banshee had no choice but to end the class a bit
early. The student’s concentration on the lecture was not what it used to be.
“Heh! If you’re going to listen to the class like this, just go out and have fun. It might be
better that way,” muttered Professor Banshee as he packed up his materials and left the
classroom. Only then did the spark return to the eyes of the students.
Professor Banshee’s lecture was a joint integrated class attended by all the students of both
the Cold Department and the Hot Department. This made it the perfect time for discussing
festival plans, as all students were present.
Leading the festival this time were Tudor from the Cold Department, and Granola from the
hot department.
“Alright, friends! Let’s decide on the theme for this festival!”
The festival concept refers to the system of generating revenue during the festival. This
involved setting up makeshift facilities where students could engage in business activities
such as serving, cooking, or gaming to raise funds. Traditional pubs, haunted houses, and
hunting clubs were commonly popular revenue models.
“However! No matter which one we choose, there’s one ‘unwritten rule’ that we must all
follow!”
All students nodded in agreement to Tudor’s words. There was an unwritten rule during the
academy’s festival that transcended grades.
That rule was ‘TS.’
Trans-Seggsual. It usually meant males dressing as females and vice versa. During the
festival at Colosseo Academy, it was a trend for all male students to dress as females and all
female students to dress as males.
Always cheerful, Sinclaire clapped her hands and laughed. “Wow, this will be fun. How
about we try a test run before the festival?”
“Of course.”
Granola immediately agreed with Sinclaire’s suggestion, and before they knew it, students
responsible for props had brought in various disguises they had prepared during their spare
time.
Sinclaire attached a mustache to her nose and chuckled. “Look, Bianca! I look like the boss
Pringles from work, don’t I?”
“Indeed. Did you tear that mustache off Pringles?” Bianca, with thick eyebrows on her chin, a
long regent wig, and a loosely inflated balloon muscle suit, kicked back and laughed.
Looking at Bianca’s disguise, Sinclaire awkwardly laughed. “Wow, sis, your disguise is
intense. Are you going to do this during the festival?”
“Are you crazy? You have to make it look neutral and sexy, of course.”
“Fair enough. Let’s do it together.”
“Shall we? Oh, right. We need to dress up the guys as well.”
Bianca’s expression turned mischievous. She approached Tudor, who was choosing
disguises.
“Hey! If you’re dressing up, let me, the master, help you!”
Before long, Bianca had used makeup and disguises to transform Tudor and other male
students. Tudor had golden partial wigs attached, turning him into someone with long hair.
However, due to his naturally handsome features, it didn’t suit him very well.
“Ugh, his face is too defined, so cross-dressing doesn’t suit him.”
Bianca shook her head and turned her gaze. “Haha-”
Next to her, Sancho Barataria laughed with his fist clenched. “This guy… he looks weird”
“Haha! It’s my first time cross-dressing, but I don’t look half bad.”
“Really? Surprising. I thought you wouldn’t like cross-dressing since you usually prefer more
masculine things.” Bianca asked Sancho
“What nonsense! Cross-dressing is the most manly thing one can do! Women can’t cross-
dress, so it’s a truly masculine action! That’s why in the Northern warriors’ community,
there’s often a contest for the best cross-dresser!”
Well, if you think about it, that’s true. Since women can’t cross-dress in the North, only men
can, then ultimately, cross-dressing becomes a masculine action.
Sancho nodded, looking at his transformed face in the mirror with a wig and white-painted
face. “With makeup, I look just like my sister. Blood really can’t be deceived!”
Then, a slightly awkward atmosphere spread around as people took in the scene.
However, surprisingly, Figgy admired Sancho’s sister with sparkling eyes.
“Wow, Sancho’s sister is really beautiful. I personally prefer a strong female image.”
“Oh, really? How about going on a blind date later? My sister likes someone smaller and
cuter than herself.”
“Uh, really? Can someone like me dare to meet Sancho’s sister?”
“Haha- Why not?”
It was indeed a lively blind date arrangement typical of Northern warriors. However, the
interest of the girls had already shifted away from them. No, their interest had been unified
into one thing for quite some time.
“…’Him.'”
“Where is he?”
“Where did he go?”
“Where is he!”
“Find him quickly!”
“Hurry!”
“Find him right now… BAM!”
Girls were searching for someone with various makeup tools, wigs, dresses, one-pieces,
stockings, rings, necklaces, and other accessories. They were holding chokers, garter belts,
and more. Their determination to find someone rivaled the search units of the Imperial Army
Special Forces.
‘The most handsome guy in the academy.’
‘The coolest guy in the academy.’
‘The sexiest guy in the academy.’
‘The cutest guy in the academy.’
‘The guy you want to cuddle the most in the academy.’
‘The guy you want to fist bump the most in the academy.’
‘The guy you want to bite the most in the academy.’
‘The guy you want to hug and sleep with the most in the academy.’
‘The guy you want to dress up the most in the academy.’
In a survey targeting academy female students (and some male students who suddenly joined
the vote), this male student had claimed all the first-place rankings. The unofficial hero of
various honors.
Makeup artists, hair stylists, and fashion fans who had long admired his beauty were now
unable to control their raging desires and artistic spirits as they actively sought ‘that male
student.’
And soon…
“…”
The predators were drawn to the prey, who was dozing in a corner by the window.
Vikir.
This man with an always expressionless face.
***
Vikir used to rarely fall asleep. Recent frequent meetings with scholars, commendation
ceremonies, midterms, and even sporadic assassinations had worn even the mighty Vikir
down. Perhaps as a result, Vikir, who usually hid his face behind bangs or glasses, now
revealed his face as he dozed off, capturing the attention of countless female students.
“We found him! Over there!”
“Wow, he’s pretty!”
“I’m already excited!”
“I’ll proudly show off my skillfully prepared makeup for today!”
“I also brought a specially ordered dress!”
“I made a wig from my hair, which I’ve been growing for ten years! I used to be a hair model
in Venetior!”
“Ah! Why hasn’t the rare underwear set I ordered four weeks ago arrived!? I’ll just give Vikir
my underwear to wear!”
A horde of female students gathered to transform Vikir into a girl. Surprisingly, this crowd
not only included freshmen but also sophomores, juniors, and even fourth-year students from
the graduating class.
Infiltrating the first-year classroom naturally during break time, they showcased unique
talents compared to the freshmen.
“Move aside! What does a freshman know about makeup!”
“Oh my, look at this! Do you even know what kawai underwear is? Have you ever seen a
mirror?”
“You made a wig with that rough hair? Get out of here! The wig I made with my hair is much
better! I’m the Rapunzel of the continent!”
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
Join our Discord for release updates!
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——————
“Give me that! Little 1st year girl, I’ll shade his nose much better than you!”
“I’ll do the cheek touch! I have around 5 trillion pieces of color cosmetics~”
“Hey, I think the eyeliner would be better if done by me, right?”
“If that’s the case, let’s divide the face! Let’s do makeup by section!”
“Humph! I’ll choose the color of Vikir’s lower lip! Don’t interfere!”
“…What? The lower lip? What the hell, what is my brother doing here…”
Various unknown makeup tools were spread out. An assortment of accessories. All kinds of
dresses, one-pieces, uniforms, and more. And various extravagant accessories. Some items
like garter belts and chokers aimed at specific tastes were also present.
Countless female students (and some male students) extended their magical hands towards
Vikir.
And then…
“…”
The moment Vikir woke up, he was surprised to see numerous palms covering his field of
vision. A collective madness that even the soulless who had lived through the era of
destruction would find astonishing.
In an instant, Vikir recalled the nightmare of being arrested just before execution. In that
moment, he abruptly stood up.
Whoosh!
As Vikir urgently moved away from his seat, the female students started to follow him.
“He must be dressed up as a girl!”
“That’s the rule of our academy!”
“Let’s enjoy the festival!”
Gradually, the female students chased Vikir through the corridor, turning corners. However,
somehow Vikir was nowhere to be found.
Like the saying “A dog chasing a chicken only looks at the rooftop,” the female students
wandered around aimlessly with blank expressions.
However…
Hack, hack, hack…
In the corner of the locker room, a black puppy nonchalantly strolled across the corridor.
***
Vikir, currently wearing the Picaresque mask. Transformed into a black dog, he weaved
through the legs of female students who were searching for themselves, eventually making
his way outside the main building.
“Even if I’m tired, dealing with these little ones…”
Had the comrades who came through the age of destruction, seen him jump back in surprise
at the sight of the palms of the female students, they would have been amazed and burst into
laughter.
“Sorry, friends. Seems like I’ve been too lazy lately.”
Caught up in living with young children amidst midterm exams, he ended up genuinely
getting along with them, though he couldn’t match their age.
The day is drawing to a close, but there is still much work to be done.
Baskerville, Hugo, Traitors to Mankind, The Ten Corpses, The Demon Realm…
Sura’s path, where one must advance by killing and killing again. Ghost of vengeance.
Vikir clenched his teeth, familiarizing himself with the heavy meanings of the words ‘era of
destruction’ and regressor once more.
Chong-chong-chong – Trot-trot-trot –
A small black puppy headed towards the academy’s outer wall. To prepare for such moments,
he had hidden clothes outside the city. Choose a suitable opening, retrieve the clothes, and
that’s it.
Vikir, who usually roamed the restricted areas (accumulating quite a few demerits), found a
secluded spot he had kept an eye on.
The outskirts of the outer wall, sparsely populated, were rarely visited by people. Vikir had
prepared a hole just the right size for his small body when he had transformed into a dog.
“If I go through this hole, I can put on my hidden clothes and enter the city. And…”
CindiWendy’s information floated in his mind. The demonic triangle, the only area her
information network which was spread throughout Venetior, couldn’t access – the cursed
triangle where infiltrators would disappear.
That place was right near where Dantalian had hiding.
“The Royal Martyrs Cemetery.”
A common burial ground for heroes who had protected the empire. According to
CindiWendy’s information, many of her agents investigating that area had recently gone
missing.
Vikir recalled a newspaper article he had read relatively recently.
[Emergency] The Worst Villain ‘Night Hound,’ How Far Does His Villainy Go? / Views:
89,269
The Night Hound has caused another major incident.
In the early hours of the morning, the ‘Central Clock Tower’ was destroyed by the Night
Hound, and shortly thereafter, around dawn at 4 a.m., the ‘Royal Martyrs Cemetery’ was
reduced to rubble.
The Royal Martyrs Cemetery, a sacred place where the heroes who unified the empire and
mighty warriors rest, was attacked. This fact is nothing short of a declaration of war on the
entire empire, if not all of humanity… Meanwhile, the exact number of casualties from the
damage caused by this recent terror attack, including the damaged or lost remains, is still not
accurately assessed…
It was an article related to a copycat imitating the Night Hound.
“…Maybe the imitator isn’t necessarily trying to imitate me.”
It was just the world calling him an imitator without knowing the true purpose. Even
CindiWendy couldn’t figure out what the imitator’s real goal was.
And now, Vikir was almost certain that this so-called imitator was somehow connected to
one of the Ten Corpses.
“Alright. Should I start the investigation right away?”
Vikir licked his dry nose decisively and rushed towards the hole in the bushes.
Dodo-dodo –
However, Vikir couldn’t escape through the hole.
Bung-bung-bung –
“…?”
His agile legs were just flapping in the air, accomplishing nothing.
Because someone was lifting Vikir from behind, wrapping their arms around his back and
waist.
“Oh my, Choco~ We meet again?”
A familiar voice echoed in his ears. It was the Student Council President Dolores L
Quovadis, with a broad smile, holding onto Vikir from behind.
“Are you wandering around here too? There are many stray cats and dogs in this area. Maybe
there’s even a hole for dogs like you.”
“…?”
Vikir, caught off guard, half-opened his mouth in bewilderment. Why was this woman here?
He had become complacent after checking multiple times that there were rarely any people
around, if any.
Dolores, seemingly reading Vikir’s confusion, took the initiative to explain.
“I often come here. Stray cats and dogs roam around here a lot. Maybe there’s a hole
somewhere.”
“…”
“So, I sometimes feed the little ones here. It might cause trouble if I do it near the dormitories
where other people are.”
Indeed, Dolores was a kind person. Doing volunteer work without gaining any recognition in
a place where no one knew.
She laughed lightly, “Lately, there are a lot of puppies and kittens abandoned near the
dormitories. After the freshmen come in, the number increases for a few months. Some kids
abandon their pets because they fight with roommates or simply get tired of them.”
“…”
“While I love pets, I sometimes wish there was a law prohibiting pets in the academy dorms.
So, I plan to push for it before my term as the Student Council President ends.”
“…”
“But there’s strong opposition from those who want to keep pets. Some even see me as a pet
hater. Even though it’s not true…”
She spoke while gently petting Vikir’s head.
“By the way, were you abandoned by your owner? Or do you have a separate owner?”
“…”
“You seem to be always alone. Want to come with me?”
Dolores seemed to have a somewhat absurd misunderstanding. She probably thought Vikir
was a pitiful stray dog…
‘Hmm, come to think of it, she’s not completely wrong.’
‘Even though I killed Seth, or rather Andromalius, the mastermind behind it… the
Baskervilles and Hugo remain on the list of targets for vengeance.’
Vikir suddenly realized that his situation wasn’t that different from what Dolores was
thinking.
Tossed away, overturning all the baseless and dirty accusations, a discarded hunting dog.
How was that different from being a stray pet, betrayed and abandoned after trusting its
owner, even facing execution?
“Well, anyway.”
Dolores, for some reason, seemed to be making an unreasonable assumption. Maybe she
misunderstood Vikir as a poor abandoned dog…
“Ah, I should get you neutered, Choco!”
It was because of Dolores’ unintended but not malicious wickedness.
Huffing away like the wind, the black puppy fled again. Dolores, who couldn’t help but lose
him due to his swift movements, watched the disappearing black figure with a regretful
expression.
Did she know that she almost intentionally turned Vikir into the ‘(✿ ◕‿◕) ᓄ✂╰U╯’?
“Ah, he ran away again. He doesn’t really stay close. Seems quite shy.”
However, oblivious to this fact, Dolores sighed as Vikir disappeared into the bushes like an
arrow.
“…What a weird dog”
——————
Chapter 198 Corpse Queen (1)
Night Hound silently melted into the night once again.
Vikir gracefully navigated between buildings, soaring through the air. However, compared to
before, Vikir’s movements have become several times more agile. It was not just due to
training; in fact, the presence attached to his left wrist played a more significant role.
[Squeak!]
A spider-like entity spewed webs from Vikir’s left wrist. As he leaps into the air, the webs
shoot towards the walls and railings of the building in front of him. Like a pulley system,
Vikir extended the webs forward, attaching them to the next building, allowing him to
continue gliding forward.
The spider-like entity nestled in Vikir’s wrist produced a massive amount of spider silk with
ease. A substance that looked like concentrated spider silk essence exited the tiny creature
and solidified when it came into contact with the surrounding air.
‘Even this little creature produces so much spider silk. I wonder how much Madam Eight-
Legs produced.’
Vikir recalled the time he fought Madam Eight-Legs. During the fight, Vikir destroyed the
silk-producing organ, otherwise, she could’ve expended an enormous amount of spider silk,
making it challenging for Vikir to counter with his skills. If Madam Eight-Legs had been in a
condition to freely produce webs, Vikir might not have survived that day with all his limbs
intact.
“You’re more useful than I thought.”
[Hack-hack-hack-]
Vikir patted the head of the creature, which spewed webs from its mouth.
Thanks to it, travel time has been significantly reduced, a fortunate turn of events.
Tat-tak!
Running along the outer wall of a building, Vikir soon descended onto a partially collapsed
clock tower. The once iconic landmark of the city now stands halfway crumbled due to some
massive impact.
Vikir recalled the newspaper article he read recently.
[Breaking News] Night Hound Strikes Again!?
Once again, Night Hound began a terror spree around 1 a.m. The target of destruction was the
central clock tower of the Venetior, a landmark boasting a rich history. This architectural
marvel not only symbolized imperial power but also contained the ideals of the late Emperor
Peha, emphasizing the order of the empire… Meanwhile, the number of casualties from this
terror attack… The imperial decree vows to use all means necessary to bring this notorious
criminal to justice…
A copycat mimicking Night Hound. Vikir examined the massive clock tower, destroyed by
an unknown entity, with interest.
The scars on the wall were too long and uncontrolled to be attributed to a blade.
‘It’s like the aftermath of a whip. Considering the destruction of a city landmark… could it be
someone discontent with society?’
Destroying the Central Clock Tower, a structure people in Venetior looked at several times a
day, and which symbolized nothing but order and peace. However, attempting to destroy this
building may hold symbolic meaning, possibly resistance against the societal regime or an
attempt to overthrow order.
‘…Well, I don’t know for sure.’
However, it wasn’t crucial at the moment.
For Vikir, finding the imitator and killing him was more urgent than the presence of the
copycat.
“Let’s see.”
From the rooftop of that destroyed tower, Vikir surveyed the cityscape below. The city lights
gradually fade away, the city preparing for a peaceful slumber. Night Hound awakened only
when everyone else had closed their eyes.
‘…There it is. The point CindiWendy pointed out seems suspicious.’
Vikir raised his head, looking towards the northern part of the city.
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
[Proofreader – Lucky]
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That place was the area Vikir had recently visited for volunteer work on the outskirts. It was
now the location of the abandoned Indulgentia Orphanage, which had turned into ruins.
‘Surely, it’s a place left in ruins with nothing remaining… Why are intelligence agents
disappearing there?’
Vikir lifted his mask slightly, sniffing the air of decay.
“…”
There’s a smell, faint but unmistakable. It was undoubtedly the scent of magic. The fact that
this stench lingered indicated that something was still there.
“But strangely, the smell is faint. Why is that?”
It was even lighter than the typical demon scent, making it difficult to notice.
Vikir instructed the spider-like creature to extend its thread and then leaped from the clock
tower. Just before hitting the ground, the webbing stops, and using the recoil, Vikir performs
a mid-air somersault, landing gracefully on the ground.
Vikir navigated through the dark alleys, weaving through the maze-like city. Roof to roof,
railing to railing, wall to wall, higher to lower, and even lower than that, he continued to leap
and crawl.
Eventually, Vikir arrived at the ruins of the Indulgentia Orphanage. It’s a zone just about a
hundred meters away from the opposite Royal Memorial Cemetery.
As Vikir moved from the outskirts of the ruins towards the center, he senses something
unusual.
“The smell is getting fainter and then stronger again.”
The demonic stench is being diluted by something, like a strange energy mixed half-and-half
with human blood.
“Is it possible for a scent like this to come from a demon?”
Even Vikir, an experienced demon hunter, has never encountered this scent before.
Meanwhile, there is no sign of anyone in the ruins of the Indulgentia Orphanage. With
Quovadis’ investigation concluded, no one comes here anymore. Normally, there should be
guards, but due to the recent activities of the imitators, there seems to be a shortage of
security personnel.
Although there was a sign prohibiting entry for civilians, Vikir entered without any
hindrance.
Before long, Vikir entered the area where CindiWendy’s intelligence agents went missing.
And soon enough,
“…!”
He understood why CindiWendy’s intelligence agents disappeared, what made them vanish,
what happened to them, and where they went—all at once.
[Groooooo…]
The lower jaw, down to the collarbone, and a purple tongue..
Gas had filled the body, and the flowing flesh had solidified like oil.
A few undead creatures, emitting a putrid odor, wandering the ruins.
[Zombies]
Danger Level: C
Size: 1.7m
Discovery: Across the continent
– Also known as the ‘Less Rotten Ones.’
Common corpses are found anywhere – graves, battlefields, abandoned houses, sewers, etc.
In rural or underdeveloped cities, they are as common as rats.
The undead walked around, emitting unpleasant moans.
It’s impossible to know why they’re wandering in this place because they were once humans.
However, at least some of them were unquestionably CindiWendy’s intelligence agents.
“Go to a better place.”
Whether such a place truly exists is uncertain. Vikir took out his bow, Anubis, a powerful
black bow that fit snugly in Vikir’s hands.
“I’ve kept this one resting for too long.”
During the Academy’s mid-term exam period, he had only handled standard bows, and his
hands felt like they would rot.
The saying that masters don’t care about equipment is a lie. If Vikir could have used Anubis
during those times, he could have easily annihilated the golem and Professor Sadi in one shot.
“But that would have caused a big problem.”
Anubis is different from standard bows; it probably wouldn’t have left just one eyeball intact.
While contemplating various thoughts, Vikir tightly gripped Anubis.
[Squish…]
The little creature attached to Vikir’s left hand seems to dislike Anubis and retreated back.
Anubis was made from the discarded husk of Madame Eight-Legs. The little creature, back in
its larval stage, seemed to detest any traces of its mother, probably due to memories of almost
being eaten by her.
The relationship between parent and child for spiders might not be as tight-knit as one would
think.
‘Just like the dogs of Baskerville.’
Finally, with a click, Vikir released Anubis’s string.
[Bang! Boom]
The heads of zombies in the distance exploded one by one.
The zombies were shattered into pieces before they even had a chance to react, and Vikir
continued to move following the faint stench.
At that moment,
“…!”
Arriving at the heart of the ruins, Vikir witnessed a shocking scene.
Quilt, the head of the Indulgentia family, and the ninth supreme demon, Dantalian. Though
he was dead and gone, one of the undead that belonged to him was standing intact.
Geronto.
The red-haired mage.
But Vikir wasn’t surprised that Geronto had come back to life.
Because…
The entity that resurrected Geronto,
Was tanding conspicuously amid the ruins, ‘it’ immediately caught Vikir’s attention.
The overwhelming aura emanating from the figure, was the source of the demonic scent that
led Vikir here.
Adorned with a crown and armor made of bones, long flaming hair, and a black cape
fluttering, the figure exuded an imposing presence.
One of the [Ten Corpses] was here.
——————
Chapter 199 Corpse Queen (2)
Vikir stood in the center of the ruins, wearing a crow-beaked helmet and armor and a cloak
that seemed to engulf only the darkest part of the night sky. In this desolation, ‘It’ was the
master of the wandering spirits. And Vikir recognized its sinister identity.
[Ten Corpses (Eighth Ranked), Sere]
Danger Level: S+
Size: ?
Discovery Location: Depths of the Gate of Ruin, ‘Snake’s Uterus’
Also known as the ‘Eighth Corpse.’
One of the ten supreme demons, an enemy of humanity, impervious and invincible.
[The herds of livestock and beasts will perish.]
『Ten Commandments』 10: I –
Sere, the eighth demon lord.
One of the highest-ranking demons who crossed over to exterminate humanity.
Vikir suppressed a shiver as he glimpsed at the deep moans boiling up from the creature’s
throat.
‘…Didn’t expect to meet you like this.’
Following ‘Inferior Second Son Seth’ Andromalius and ‘The Thousand Faced Demon’
Dantalian. The appearance of the eighth demon, Sere, was rather abrupt.
Vikir recalled the memories before his regression.
A dark sorcerer known as the ‘Corpse King.’
Sere was a formidable entity adept at resurrecting the dead.
The circus of puppets using corpses, the legion of the undead—when they marched, all living
things held their breath and trembled in fear.
Furthermore, Vikir already knew the identity of the entity that had entered into a contract
with the eighth Corpse Sere.
Unlike the contractees of other Ten Corpses, the contractor of Sere was relatively well-
known.
It was none other than ‘Snake Morg’, the leader to the dark faction of the Morg Clan.
Snake Morg, representing the Dark faction of Morg, had always been secretly involved in
dark magic. Therefore, the alliance between Sere and Snake Morg must have been a perfect
match.
“As the rival of the magic prodigy Adolf Morg, he must have been a formidable opponent
even in his lifetime.”
Snake Morg was the chief representative of the Dark faction, while Adolf Morg was the chief
representative of the public faction. For some reason, the relationship between the two had
been strained for a long time, and Lespene Morg, their master, and the leader of the whole
clan, was barely keeping it under control.
However, before his regression, Vikir did not know the reason why Snake contracted with
Sere, but he vividly remembered the horrific outcome.
“Adolf Morg is still in the 6th circle of magic. If that’s the case, Snake Morg’s mastery of
magic may not be that high yet…”
However, Vikir’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted.
The Corpse King had sensed Vikir’s presence.
[…Who’s there?]
A resonant voice echoed.
Surprisingly, mingling with the demonic aura, the somewhat murky voice was undoubtedly
that of a woman.
“…?”
——————
HEL SCANS
[Translator – Clara]
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——————
Only then did Vikir scrutinize the opponent more closely.
Different.
It was different from the memories before his regression.
The man who should have become the ‘Corpse King,’ Snake Morg, was tall and disturbingly
thin to the point of feeling unpleasant. When he walked, he looked like a clown on stilts.
His appearance and strength were well known to Vikir. There was no mistake about it.
‘…But the Corpse King in front of me has a height similar to mine.’
Moreover, with a well-trained body and a balanced ratio, the Corpse King’s physique was
markedly different from Snake Morg’s. Furthermore.
‘…A woman?’
Vikir’s mouth half-opened in astonishment.
Judging by height, chest, and buttock shape, the Corpse King’s body was distinctly feminine.
Something is strange.
Sere’s contractor has changed.
According to the original timeline, Snake Morg should have contracted with Sere.
And that too, well after the current moment.
However, Sere’s contractor has already revealed themselves, and it’s someone completely
different from Snake Morg.
The Corpse Queen.
Wearing a helmet made of two skulls, her face was hidden, but she was unmistakably human,
presumably a woman. She turned towards Vikir, her long hair, burning like crimson flames,
and a black cloak billowing beneath the skull helmet.
“…”
Vikir furrowed his brow slightly behind his mask.
He didn’t know what was going on, but it seemed to work out somehow.
Even if Snake Morg, an immensely powerful mage whom not even Vikir could guarantee
victory against, had contracted with a demon, he would have become even stronger. But now,
someone entirely different had become Sere’s contractor.
The aura emanating from her was strangely half-human, half-demon.
It seemed a bit easier to deal with her. Perhaps fortune had smiled upon him today. If things
went well, he might be able to kill Sere, another one of the ten corpses.
Faced with the dilemma of whether to flee or confront the eighth Corpse, Vikir, who had
been contemplating, leaned towards the direction of battle.
At the crossroads of life and death.
The confrontation between the demon and the demon hunter had begun.
***
Vikir arrived a few minutes earlier at the ruins.
“…”
The Corpse Queen stood among the remnants, silently surveying the aftermath of a
significant collapse. Whatever had happened, it seemed like a considerable catastrophe had
taken place.
[Thieving scoundrel, Dantalian. How dare steal my things…?]
Simultaneously, she extended her hand, unleashing an aura akin to the darkness of the abyss.
Creaking sounds echoed as fragments scattered throughout the debris started to converge in
mid-air.
Injustice, sorrow, anger, hatred, longing…
Hardened droplets of blood, torn flesh, shattered bone pieces, missing strands of hair…
Traces left untouched by the dead, unable to distinguish between the soul and the physical,
entangled all around without order.
They responded to the Queen’s summons, gathering in one place.
With a thud and a whoosh, a black magic circle appeared out of nowhere, and a woman’s
body began to regenerate on top of it.
Gerento, the red mage reappeared.
The Corpse Queen, seeing the revived Gerento, gently stroked her hair.
[Indeed, Sere’s power seems to have some effect.]
The Corpse Queen handled Gerento’s hair as if it were something extremely precious.
[Rosie, I managed to find her, but… I still couldn’t find the one I really wanted. Perhaps I
shouldn’t have believed the devil’s words after all.]
A demon’s contractor, but she had not fully mastered that power yet.
Therefore, the Corpse Queen dedicated herself to daily necromantic training without skipping
a single day, completely isolating herself from the outside world.
[To fully control this power, it seems I’ll have to cross the door of death completely. Right
now, it’s just half.]
She hadn’t fully mastered the power yet.
Therefore, when resurrecting Gerento, she inadvertently wasted mana, causing the
surrounding corpses to rise as undead.
Around that time…
“…”
The Corpse Queen sensed the unwelcome guest.
A figure in a black robe wearing a plague doctor mask—a grotesque entity.
A sinister aura emanated from the observer.
“Ahh, the Eighth Corpse, Sere. So you’re one of my copycats?”
Gradually, a eerie voice modulation emanated from him.
Night’s Hound. The most feared villain currently plaguing not only the wastelands but the
entire empire.
However, the Corpse Queen merely chuckled at the sight of Night’s Hound.
[Who are you?]
“Do you not recognize me?”
[I don’t. Why would I know someone like you.]
“It seems you have no interest in how the world turns. Don’t you even read the newspapers?”
The Corpse Queen lightly chuckled at Night’s Hound’s question.
[Newspapers? Why would I bother with such things? I have no more attachments left in this
world.]
Indeed, newspapers were tools for informing the public about worldly events. Those
uninterested in the mundane affairs of the world did not need newspapers.
Night’s Hound and the Corpse Queen, two masked figures, faced each other. Although they
hadn’t revealed their identities, their stance against each other was evident.
“Devils will be slain.”
[If you can, give it a try.]
Night’s Hound summoned the Black Bow Anubis.
Simultaneously, the Corpse Queen summoned the undead, including Gerento.
Creak…
Deep within the underground of the orphanage, forgotten bones, flesh, and specters rose from
their rest, forming a congregation.
[Skeleton]
Danger Level: C
Size: 1.7m
Discovery Location: Continent-wide
– Also known as the ‘Remnant of Bones.’
A common and mundane specter found anywhere, from graveyards and battlefields to
abandoned houses and sewers. In rural or underdeveloped cities, it’s as frequently
encountered as mice.
[Ghost]
Danger Level: C
Size: ?
Discovery Location: Continent-wide
– Also known as the ‘Remnant of Spirits.’
A common and mundane specter found anywhere, from graveyards and battlefields to
abandoned houses and sewers. In rural or underdeveloped cities, it’s as frequently
encountered as mice.
[Ghoul]
Danger Level: C+
Size: 1m
Discovery Location: Continent-wide
Also known as the ‘Corpse-Eating Being’ or ‘Flesh Eater.’
A lower-tier monster commonly found where corpses are present, such as graveyards,
battlefields, abandoned houses, and sewers. It is not a form of the resurrected dead but rather
a different type of undead that entwines itself to devour corpses. Interestingly, the origin of
ghouls, and how they come into existence when a creature dies, remains unknown. Once a
ghoul dies, it cannot resurrect as undead again.
Skeletons, zombies, ghosts, ghouls—these are the most basic forms that make up the ranks of
the Necromancer’s Undead Legion. Considering the location, most of the resurrected undead
were either former orphans from the daycare or entities entwined to devour corpses.
“Tsk.”
The Corpse Queen, looking at the gathered undead, clicked her tongue as if uninterested in
dealing with them. Night’s Hound, on the other hand, focused on a particular skeleton at the
front.
Clang…
A golden necklace gleamed brightly around the slender neck of the small-sized skeleton.
‘Nymphet.’
Upon reading those words…
“…”
Even Night’s Hound couldn’t help but bare his teeth.
“Do not think you’ll die peacefully.”
Ferocious. Even more ferocious.
——————
Chapter 200 Corpse Queen (3)
Night Hunter clad in the mask of a plague doctor, and shrouded in a bloody red aura.
The Queen of the corpses concealed her identity with skeletal armor and helmet. Amid the
crumbling and devastated battlefield, a man and a woman rose with determination.
“We dogs live by gnawing on bones.”
[A dog revealing its teeth without knowing its purpose should be killed.]
Vikir surged his mana. Simultaneously, Baby Madam on his left wrist spat out spider silk
towards the front.
Splat-
The opponent’s vision was obscured by the sticky mist-like white mucus that spread out in a
web-like pattern. When the spider silk landed on the Queen of Corpses’ face, she wiped it
away with the hem of her cloak.
[…Where did this disgusting creature come from?]
Through her reaction, Vikir could be certain of one thing.
‘The current Corpse Queen is weaker than the corpse king he fought before his regression.’
The “King of Corpses,” who dominated the realm of death and controlled the massacre of the
dead, was a terrifying demon that had prevailed in the era of destruction. How many living
beings had despaired in front of that gruesome demonic black magic, which unearthed
corpses buried in death and led countless undead diseases.
However, the current Corpse Queen had little combat experience, in reacting to such light
attacks.
“Hasn’t it been long since the contract was formed? Human memories from the time when
she was still a novice black magician are still ingrained in her. The memories of the time
when she was still a novice black magician…”
Andromalius, who had a contract with Seth Le Baskerville, was the same. Even after death,
Andromalius’ fear of Hugo remained deeply embedded in his bones, the terror that Seth’s
body remembered, leading him to make critical errors at critical times.
And the contractor of Sere in front of him seemed to be in a similar situation.
“She’s pretty weak now. I surely lucked out.”
Facing on of the ten supreme demons, one couldn’t afford to be complacent. However, there
was still a bit of a more hopeful thought.
Flutter-
Vikir withdrew after blocking the Corpse Queen’s vision with Baby Madam’s spider silk.
‘Keeping a distance and intercepting with the bow, then close in with the sword when the
distance is narrowed.’
The Corpse Queen is unaware of the Night Hound’s main weapon.
It was much more advantageous for Vikir that the main weapon on the other side was black
magic.
Vikir took advantage of the moment when Baby Madam’s spider silk curtain struck, and
stepping back he quickly drew Anubis.
Black Bow Anubis.
Vikir took out five arrows, then aimed tightly.
At that moment.
[…!]
Seeing Vikir’s posture shooting the bow, the Corpse Queen hesitated for a moment right
there. The eye gaze within the skull wavered.
A slight hesitation. It sank in an instant, and instead, what filled the void was…
[You’re a fucking barbarian! How dare you! I’ll crush you!]
It was a rage so intense that it could burn down the entire world and still have enough to
spare.
The fierce anger was enough to make the surrounding air rise as a fiery sea, turning the
surroundings into a sea of flames.
Even Vikir couldn’t help but be stunned by this terrifying momentum.
‘What? Why is she burning like that?’
I don’t know why she got so angry.
However, the Corpse Queen, who had shown a calm attitude just a moment ago, suddenly
changed her attitude, narrowing the distance and unleashing a hellish fury.
[You filthy barbarian! Try blocking this with that pathetic bow!]
At the same time, the surrounding flames began to take on the shape of a long spear.
Kwa-Kwa-Crash!
Vikir rolled on the ground to avoid the spear, which seemed to be aimed at him.
Crash! Qua-qua-crash! Qua-qua-qua-crash!
The spear of fire was not just one. Dozens of black spears cut through the ground and soared
into the air. The earth and stones touched by the passing spears melted into a reddish mush,
spreading in the wake of the hellish flames. The wasteland was transforming into a lava zone.
…Thud!
As Vikir rolled on the ground to avoid the spear of fire,
Rumble-rumble-rumble!
The ground seemed to hollow out, and from beneath, common steel thorns started shooting
up.
[POOL OF DEATH!]
In the pit of death created by the Corpse Queen, sharply forged iron bars, shaped like snakes,
aimed for Vikir.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
The steel snakes burrowed into Vikir in an instant.
Vikir was pierced by numerous steel bars in an instant.
[Insolent barbarian. Making a fuss and ending up like this.]
Sensing that the battle was over, the Corpse Queen slowed her pace. However,
“…Indeed. Even though you’re incomplete, you’re still one of the ten corpse”
Vikir effortlessly pulled out the steel bars stuck in his body.
Thud-thud-thud!
The steel snakes fell to the ground.
The soul of the Fog Lizard, trapped in the cursed Beelzebub, instantly regenerated his
wounds.
Tss-tss-tss-tss…
By the time Vikir emerged from the pit of death, all the wounds were cleanly healed. Only
the cloak covering him was a bit tattered.
[…What? How?]
The Corpse Queen tilted her head in puzzlement.
However, the Night Hound didn’t answer the demon’s question.
Vikir once again widened the distance and fired arrows.
Boom-boom-boom-bang!
Five arrows almost consecutively flew. Vikir showcased Aiyen’s skill, the most skilled archer
among the Ballak’s warriors.
Although the arrows curved in different directions, in the end, they all aimed for a single
target.
[…Indeed, the detestable archery of ‘Aiyen’ is unmistakable. I tried to be moderate, but it
seems impossible. I won’t kill you elegantly.]
Purple veins appeared on the Corpse Queen’s neck.
Kururuk!
Soon, elements tainted by the dark mana, such as black ice, black fire, black earth, black
wind, and black skeletons, aimed for Vikir in rapid succession.
So many simultaneous castings would be unimaginable for ordinary magicians. However,
Vikir was familiar with such phenomena. Having seen many unreasonable things in his past
life, he was accustomed to it.
——————
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——————
Churarak!
Vikir flicked his left hand.
A wire extended from his sleeve and hooked onto the steel frame of a partially destroyed
building.
[Twit!]
Baby Madam. Vikir, propelled into the air by the thread she spit out, and was able to flee the
magical storm in an instant.
At the same time.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-bang!
Arrows flew again, targeting the Corpse Queen.
Jjeojjeojeok!
Skeletons, zombies, and ghouls emerging from the ground gathered together to block the
arrows.
However,
…Crash!
The wall of bones and flesh broke so easily.
Chi-iiiiik-
Everything touched by the arrows melted away. The potent venom emanating from Anubis
even forced the Corpse Queen to step back.
She grabbed the hand of the recently resurrected Gerento and retreated.
“Disgusting venom. As expected, you barbarians know how to take and ruin what’s precious
to others.”
“…Why do you dislike the natives so much?”
“Do I dislike them? Hahaha-”
The Corpse Queen laughed as if it was absurd.
Soon, she revealed her lips slightly under the bone mask and asked.
“What’s the relationship between you, the ‘Night Fox,’ and her child?”
Without hesitation, Vikir answered, “I am a Ballak.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the Corpse Queen’s anger swept over terrifyingly.
[If that’s the case, you must have been there on ‘that night’ at ‘that place.’ Unforgivable!]
Soon after, the Corpse Queen pulled something out from under her cloak.
It was a black bundle, an ominous item dripping with dark mana.
Flutter-
The Corpse Queen pulled the black bundle and threw it on the ground.
And immediately, what was inside the bundle poured out with clattering sounds.
Clatter-clatter-clatter…
It was bones.
Bones that seemed to have been burned, covered in ash and imprinted with the marks of beast
fangs.
Moreover, most of the bones were already broken and had signs of decay.
The Corpse Queen, after throwing these bones on the ground, infused them with the mana of
darkness.
Tss-tss-tss-tss-tss…
Soon, the bones started rattling and moving.
A curtain of darkness covered them, allowing the bones to experience a semblance of life
once again.
Vikir looked at the newly resurrected undead in front of him.
It was a living corpse, covered in dried flesh on a skeleton.
A high-ranking undead draped in the mana of darkness.
[Lich]
Danger Level: A+
Size: 3m
Discovery Location: Abyss Depths
– Also known as the ‘Noble Undead.’
Some magicians have created a completely new form of restraint that transcends the
constraints of time.
They tied their souls to the chains of darkness held by the unknown giant hand lurking in the
depths of the magical abyss, granting them an immortal existence.
…However, they did not know.
After obtaining immortality, would their age still be the same? Or would they continue to age
even after gaining immortality?
Blinded by immediate achievement, the magicians who became Liches sank into the abyss
without undergoing appropriate funeral procedures, and after a long time, not even their
once-living bodies remained, dissipating like dust.
However, even so, the soul trapped at the bottom of the abyss still remained, thinking of itself
as a magician.
Forever.
Lich. A demonic being classified as extremely high-risk.
Even more powerful and dreadful than Gerento he faced before, a new entity appeared.
[Grrrr…]
The newly arrived Lich descended to the ground, its jawbone rattling, and soon sat before the
Corpse Queen.
And then.
“…?”
Vikir somehow found the face of the Lich quite familiar.
[Right. A barbarian of Ballak must be killed by another barbarian of Ballak.]
The Corpse Queen laughed with a voice that seemed to have sighed too much.
Kurururur!
Under the queen’s command, the Lich raised the mana of darkness.
It was only now that Vikir could recognize the face of the resurrected Lich.
“…!”
Brown skin, a mix of black and silver hair.
Behind the mask, Vikir’s eyes widened as if they were about to tear apart.
Only now could Vikir truly recognize the resurrected Lich’s face.
No, it wasn’t just recognition; he knew it very well.
…How could he forget?
The face of the person he spent the previous two years within the Ballak tribe.
——————