Chapter 24 – Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound


Episode 24 Morgue Camille (5)

“Aaah!”

Camille summoned fire and ice, lightning and rocks, and began pounding the ground.

Vikir narrowly avoided all of them, gradually moving closer and closer to the border with the other side of the performance hall.

“You bastard, don’t run away, stick to me!”

The camel shouted, trembling.
It seemed to regain some of the confidence it had lost when it was forced to close in on its prey.

However, the three bumps on his forehead made him look anything but cute to others.

Vikir raised his palm and tapped his forehead three times as he moved to avoid the magic.

The smirk on Bikir’s face made the camel completely lose it.

“I’m not going to let you off the hook, you little bastard, not even if you beg!”

As the camel took its final leap, Bikir stopped running.

And that’s when Vikir’s clever calculations paid off.

…Boom!

The 15-year-old Baskerville and Morg, who had been fighting in the next room, clashed ferociously.

Swords broke and magic burst, sending shards flying in all directions.

The 15-year-old Morg used a massive fire spell that shredded and scattered flames in all directions.

Even Vikir and Camu were caught in its path.

…Boom!

An explosion.
And cries of horror.

“Ouch! It’s a camel!”

“Oh my God, Mr.
Camo!”

“No! It’s ……!”

The mages watching the tournament from the sidelines were stunned.

But even if it was an accident, it was a fairly minor one.

The flames from the neighboring training grounds didn’t pose much of a threat.

However.

“Gah!”

Camu screamed as he looked down to see that most of the hem of his clothes had been consumed.

Hastily removing the still-sizzling garment, she became an underwear breeze in the middle of the training grounds.

Luckily, the flames, smoke, and dust around her hadn’t yet revealed her nakedness to others, but…… was sure a gust of wind would do it in a few seconds.

Thinking the damage was minor, the guardians outside didn’t barge in.

Only a few worried voices could be heard.

“Oh, no, not at this rate……!

The teary, snotty face is not enough, but the body of the underwear breeze is also displayed in front of everyone.
What an embarrassment!

‘What can I do, what can I do, what can I do……’

If you behave like this, you will lose face in your family.

I had once been kicked out of the house, naked, for talking back to my mother, so the trauma was even more intense.

“Nu, can someone…… someone come!

Camu crouched down, covering his bare skin with his hands as best he could.

Worried about the terrible humiliation that would come in a few seconds.

But then …… came along.

Flutter!

The camel felt the material of the cloth wrapped around his entire body.

It was heavy, but soft fabric.

Raising his head, he saw a black blood-red robe covering his entire body.

“Wear that.”


Bikir said.
He stood in a blur of underwear in front of Camu.

Camu stuttered.

“……You, too?”

At that, Bikir shrugged.

“It’s a child’s prerogative to be naked for all to see and not be dishonored.

The idea that it’s a disgrace to show what’s underneath the clothes is rampant among both sexes, but…… those are the stories of adults.

Little kids running around naked is not a big deal or an emotional flaw.
Kids can be kids.

……Of course, the child may have a different opinion, but at least that’s what Bikir thought.

After undressing Camu, Bikir stood up.

Then.

Camu pointed at Bikir’s face and stammered.

“Yaah…… you, you bleed, you bleed!”

Bikir raised his hand and wiped the blood from his forehead.

Apparently, when the magic had been dispersed, the shards of the sword had been dispersed as well.

It wasn’t a fatal wound, but it was blood nonetheless, and in a fight between eight-year-olds, blood is the difference between victory and defeat.

And now.

Whirring-!

A gust of wind blows in, sweeping away the dust and cannonballs that have risen on the stage.

It reveals a dazed Camouflage, covered in Baskerville’s training uniform, and a bleeding, naked Vikir.

It’s unclear what happened in the dirt, but everyone could tell that the mood between them was no longer one for fighting.

“…….”

The look in Camu’s eyes, in particular, tells me that the battle is completely over.

That dazed gaze was like a blank slate…….

Meanwhile.

The other Baskervilles looked at the younger Baskerville, who stood tall and proud, even naked.

“Ho-ho, did you lose to the Morg woman, or did you win, I can’t tell.”

“By the way, the young one is very good.
Must be the River Styx’s favor.”

“Of course, all those lean muscles all over his body.
You must be keeping up with your training schedule.”

The fight between the eight-year-olds, which had been impressive in many ways, ended somewhat sourly with the loss of Camu.

* * *

After the friendly competition was over.

Hugo pulled Vikir aside in the corner of the arena.

As they walked to the gazoo, Hugo turned to Vikir and asked.

“How was the Morg’s battle with the Lady?”

“It was interesting, and it reminded me of the significance of the event.”

“A battle with a wizard is quite different from a battle between swordsmen.”

“I’ll learn.”

Hugo and Vikir chatting away.

If anyone else in the family had seen this, they would have been quite surprised.

Hugo wasn’t the type to talk to his children like this.

And Bikir was also feeling quite out of place in this regard.

“What is this, was he always like this?

Hugo doesn’t actually remember much about his childhood.

He was always cold, stern, and cruel.

Rumor had it that the reason for his fucked up personality was the bitter loss of his first wife and eldest daughter.

‘……Well, that’s none of my business now.’


While Vikir mulled this over in his mind, Hugo asked his next question in a blunt tone.

“What do you think of the ruby mine?”

Hugo’s key question, a continuation of the debate before the friendly competition.

At the time, Camu’s logic had been, “We can’t mine the rubies in Baskerville anyway, so we’ll take the mining rights for pennies on the dollar,” which was also Morg’s demand.

Baskerville, then, has no choice but to give a realistic answer.

Turning to Hugo, who was looking at him with some anticipation, Vikir replied.

“I think it’s better to give it away.”

Hugo’s eyes widened slightly at that.

“You’re giving away the mining rights to the ruby mine?”

“Yes.”

“On what grounds?”

Hugo asked again, and Bikir answered without hesitation.

“The Red Awl Mountain, through which the ruby mines flow, is the downstream of the Red and Black Mountains.
A little further up, powerful demons and barbarians abound, and I know this because I ventured outside the boundaries into the No Harm No Foul territory not long ago on a practical assessment.”

Vikir said, remembering the arrow marks in Cerberus’ side.

Meanwhile, Hugo’s expression was gradually brightening, albeit subtly.

“Hmm.
So?”

“And the Baskervilles have made it a point to expand their borders by opening up those backwoods.
If we can use the Morgas to our advantage, we can minimize the damage to the Baskervilles’ frontier.”

Hugo’s eyes glowed blue at that.

“Hoo-hoo-hoo, that’s the answer.”

He understood Vikir’s point.

If the ruby mining rights were given away, the Morg would put a significant number of their men downstream in the Red and Black Mountains.

Baskerville would then be able to open up the backcountry next to them, and drive the demons and barbarians who lived there back to Morg.

When you take territory from demons or barbarians, you must dry up their seeds so that the natives will never seek revenge.

Slashing Root.

I must kill all the demons and savages in the land, as well as chase down and kill all those who escape, and then I can take full possession of the land.

Return to the land.

This is because it prevents the departed from gaining strength and returning to take revenge.

But it’s a long and painful process to completely exterminate fleeing prey.

So Hugo decided to clear the land and drive all the fleeing demons and barbarians to Morg’s ruby mines.

“Hahaha, the rubies will be even redder with Morg’s blood.
You will regret entering our territory, child of Respane.”

Hugo was pleased with Vikir’s answer.

The Morg had gotten the ruby, Baskerville had gotten the territory, and the meeting had ended cordially.

“Very well done.
A ploy that fits my plan perfectly.”

Hugo said, stroking Vikir’s head.

Bikir thought.

“Of course it was.
The plan came from your head in the first place.

Vikir knew this well, for before the regression, he had served as a hound to drive demons and barbarians toward the Morg.

For now, however, he must simply lower his eyes and answer politely.

“Still, I think we should carefully monitor the movements of any Morg who have entered our territory, just in case.”

“There is no need to worry about that.
I have been slowly increasing the number of hounds I have sent there for some time now.”

Hugo’s answer came as a surprise.
Not that the plan was surprising, but that he’d bothered to tell Bikir about it.

Bikir was stunned to realize that Hugo’s gaze had softened to the color of tanned leather.

Just as they were about to enter the chamber.

“My Lord.”

A voice called out to Hugo from behind.

He turned to see Morg Adolf standing there.


And beside him stood Camus, his eyes still red.

He clutches at the hem of his uncle’s cloak, his gaze shifting away.

Hugo narrowed his eyes.

“Acting Lord Morg, what is it, and do you still have business?”

“I have one very important business to attend to.”

“Well, let’s go inside and finish it.”

Hugo unlocked the door and stepped into the chamber.

Adolf followed him in and sat down on the couch.

“…….”

Camus still didn’t say anything.

It merely glanced at Vikir before entering, then dropped its gaze to the floor and glanced aside.

He still wore the blood robe Vikir had given him after the duel, wrapped tightly around his body.

Adolf said to Hugo.

“The truth is, Morg has been putting a lot of thought into resolving the ruby mine issue amicably, and the rent for the manor is just one of many issues.”

“So what, the price of my opening up the estates.”

“What about a marriage pact?”

Hugo’s brow furrowed slightly at Adolf’s offhand remark.

But he didn’t say no.

Hugo leaned forward and asked.

“A marriage potion?”

“Yes.
A marriage between a man and a woman from Morg and Baskerville.”

Opening up the lands to another family for money might not look good, so let’s paint a good picture by creating a marriage relationship.

But a marriage between Morg and Baskerville, known for their long-standing enmity, is an awkward and outrageous proposition.

Hugo chuckled at the unthinkable.

“I see.
And who does it link to whom?”

“How about this one’s eldest daughter and that one’s eldest son?”

Adolf turned his head and looked at the camel.

The camel next to him looked up in surprise.

It’s a sign of the times.

“He’s my nephew,” he said, “but he’s a great kid.
Beauty for beauty, intelligence for intelligence, strength for strength, nothing is missing, and I think he’d make a good backup for the little sunshine of Baskerville.”

But Hugo didn’t care about any of that.

“Hmph.
My firstborn is twenty this year.
I thought there was quite a difference in age?”

“Eight and twenty.
It’s only a seventeen-year difference, isn’t it? That’s easily overcome.”

“Adolf Gazoo was forty this year, wasn’t he? Would you be able to meet a seventeen-year-old?”

“…….”

Adolf suddenly became very quiet.

Hugo threw up his hands.

“Besides, my eldest son is already engaged to be married.”

“Is that so, and when……?”

“A prenuptial betrothal, you do not know.”

Hugo’s answer gave Adolf a troubled look.

Just then.

The still camel suddenly raised its head and shouted.

“I will not marry anyone weaker than my mother!”

Her tone was quite confident.

Adolf and Hugo’s gazes turned to the camel.


They hadn’t even asked for the child’s wishes.

Adolf smiled gently and stroked the camel’s head.

“My dear, if you refuse to marry someone weaker than your mother, you will be a virgin for most of your life.
Or you’ll have to find a man with a huge age difference.”

“I’m looking at possibilities, and I don’t want a huge age gap.
I like people my own age or younger, and there were a lot of people my age in the theater earlier!”

Adolf shrugged at Camus’s comment, not really sure what to say.

Then Hugo looked at him with a hint of irritation.

“Kid, this isn’t a buffet.”

“I know, and I’m not interested in picking and choosing.”

With that, the camel looks up and stares off into the distance.

There, standing in the distance, was Bikir.

Hugo is stroking his chin with his hand when he realizes where Camu’s gaze is headed.

“No! You!”

Adolf jumped up and covered the camo’s eyes.

“You’ve got half a surname, not Les, and I’m a dragon from the creek, after all!”

Adolf whispers in the Camouflage’s ear, but Hugo, now a superhuman, can’t help but hear the whispers.

“Hmmm.
You’re right, but that’s kind of pissing me off.”

Hugo mumbles a little to himself.

Then he turns to Vikir, who is standing next to him.

“Well, Zagoro, when it comes to marriage, what you think is what matters most.
What about you, my son?”

Without hesitation, Bikir answered.

“If you say so, I will obey.”

It was a loyal answer.

Hugo laughed heartily at that, and Adolf’s face contorted in bewilderment.

“If you ask me, I’ll do it,” he said, and Adolf’s expression turned to disbelief.

What a disrespectful way to treat Morg’s only child!

Hugo was even openly scratching Adolf’s insides.

“In Baskerville, there is no such thing as direct descent.
Inferior things come from the family name of Les and superior things come from the family name of Van.”

“Is …… that what the Lord would say, my friend?”

Adolf looked down at Vikir with a smile on his face.

But the smile was cold and hard.

“I didn’t get a good look at you in the rehearsal hall earlier, but would you mind if I took a good look at you?”

Vikir finally managed to look up at Adolf, who stood before him.

Sixth Circle Master.
A powerhouse at the very top of the martial arts scene in Morg.

A delegate to the Great House and a master of words who is often the go-to person for diplomatic and political matters.

“And known as a terrible nephew fool.

Viktor is alone, recalling his pre-regression personality data.

Adolf leaned closer and whispered in Bikir’s ear.

“Child, I don’t mean for you to hear this, but…….
To be the husband of our camel, you must be of a certain age.
It’s just a matter of opinion within the family, and personally, I don’t think you’re even close to being the right man for Baskerville.”

The words were spoken with a hint of bravado.

As is characteristic of politicians, Hugo’s internal fire is quite high for someone who had just taken a jab at Camus.

But.

“…….”

Under Adolf’s pressure, Vikir doesn’t move an inch, just stands there with an expressionless face.

In fact, Adolf’s brow furrows.

“Why don’t you answer me? Are you listening to me?”

Finally, Bikir’s mouth opened.

“You said it wasn’t for me to hear, so I didn’t listen.”

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