Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 180: Master's Hounds

The triplets of the Baskervilles, who appeared out of nowhere, spoke to Vikir in a very stern manner.

"Hey, commoner. Hurry up and follow us. It's a group test, so we need to get this together beforehand."

Highbro jerked his chin at Vikir in an arrogant manner.

"...."

Vikir silently carried the triplets' baggage. He looked like a porter.

He was just about to follow Highbro.

"Wait, Vikir."

Someone stood in his way. It was Don Quixote Tudor.

He turned to Vikir and spoke in a low voice.

"I'm not trying to ignore you; I'm just so angry. Can you let me talk to them for a minute?"

"?"

Vikir stood there, unable to understand.

Taking that as permission, Tudor walks toward the Highbro, his eyes narrowing.

Then he spoke in a low voice that only he could hear.

"Who do you think you are to tell my friend what to do? Vikir is not one of your men."

"Huh?"

"And you carry your own baggage. There is no distinction between nobles and commoners in the academy."

Underneath Tudor's calm voice, searing anger burned.

Highbro looks back at Tudor in disbelief.

Behind him, Midbro and Lowbro glared at Tudor.

Then.

"That's right. Vikir is a friend of ours. If you want him as a subordinate, try us first."

"That's right, that's right; who are you to treat Vikir like a servant?"

Sancho, a large man, came to stand beside Tudor.

And beside him was a stern-faced Piggy.

Shake, shake, shake...

Piggy's legs were trembling, but he hadn't taken a step backward.

(This was a 180-degree change from the time before Vikir's regression, when Piggy had been pinned down by Highbro and held at his feet.)

Tudor shrugged and stepped in front of Highbro.

"I don't know what you're up to, but don't try to force Vikir to pick a team. He's supposed to be in the same group as us."

"... Are these assholes crazy? Who said anything about forcing anyone?"

Highbro put his hands on his hips in disbelief.

But, as was the case with the Baskerville hounds, Highbro could not hold out for long.

Sssssss...

Tudor froze in his tracks at the sharp killing intent emanating from Highbro.

Tudor is currently tied for first place in Class A of the Cold Warriors, along with Bianca, the current Cold Warriors' overall head of the class.

However, Highbro, in Class B, is ranked third overall in the Cold Warriors, far from being inferior to Tudor or Bianca.

Behind him are the fourth-ranked Midbro and fifth-ranked Lowbro.

On the other hand, we have the #1 Tudor, the #6 Sancho, and the unranked Piggy.

It was inevitable that they would be outmatched.

"... Would you like to play? Will you beat me again?"

"... You think you can beat me?"

Don Quixote Tudor and Highbro Baskerville stood face-to-face, teeth bared.

Don Quixote, the spearman, and Baskerville, the iron-blooded swordsman.

The spears of the empire and the iron-blooded swordman were about to collide.

at that time. There were those who joined the side of Tudor, Sancho, and Piggy.

"Who are you to persecute our brother?"

"It's not a pretty sight to see you all huddled and snarling. What are men?"

Sinclair and Bianca joined them, and Tudor's face brightened.

Sinclair and Bianca are the leaders of the Hot and Cold Class, which means they add a tremendous amount of power.

Highbro, Midbro, and Lowbro's faces hardened even more.

"Persecution. We're just...."

"Just...."

"Just...."

The triplets opened their mouths in anger but were forced to shut them.

"Enough."

Vikir stepped forward.

Vikir stood with his back to the Baskerville triplets.

"I'm not being forced to go. It's a real agreement, and we're in a group together."

"...What? Really?"

"Yep. They said they needed my knowledge of monsters and wanted me to join them first. That was weeks ago."

There was not much to say then.

Tudor rubbed at the base of his nose in annoyance, then whispered in Vikir's ear.

"You're not really being bullied or anything, are you?"

"Nope. I'm fine."

"Well, in that case, just let me know if you're having a hard time."

"Thanks."

Vikir nodded, and Tudor stepped away, looking unhappy.

Sinclair twiddled his thumbs ruefully.

"Hyung, are you really in the same group as those guys?"

"Yeah."

"Why? Are you close to them?"

"Kinda."

Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, Bianca, and Sinclair all shake their heads in unison at Vikir's answer.

As far as they knew, Vikir hadn't socialized with the Baskerville triplets since he'd started school.

So, where did they get so close?

"... You don't look like you're very close; are you really being bullied?"

Tudor muttered under his breath as he watched Vikir's back as he carried the triplets' baggage like a porter.

He was worried that something bad might happen to the weaker Vikir.

* * *

Tudor was right.

Vikir was not very friendly with the Baskerville triplets.

And the bullying was real.

albeit with the subject and object reversed.

A back alley was deserted.

"Good luck."

Vikir opened his mouth to speak, and three responses came out of it in quick succession.

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

Highbro, Midbro, and Lowbro answered in a rumbling voice as they stretched out on their stomachs in a fetal position with their heads on the floor.

Vikir was perched on Highbro's back.

"You."

Vikir looked down at Highbro and opened his mouth.

Highbro, his head on the floor and dripping with sweat, flinched as if he had heard the Grim Reaper's call.

Aah!

His reddened face turned white with blood.

The beads of sweat that had been dribbling down his cheeks are back in his pores.

He didn't have to look to know that Vikir's gaze was fixed on him.

The back of his head felt chilled, as if the blade of an awl had touched it.

Vikir asked the question in a flat, emotionless voice.

"What hound bares his teeth without his master's permission?"

"It has to be boiled."

Highbro replied in a crawling voice.

What would happen if a hound ignored its master's wishes and bared its teeth at the prey?

The hunt is bound to fail in all likelihood.

For the hunter, a failed hunt doesn't just mean missing the prey.

The hunter can become the hunted at any moment. That's why hounds must always obey their master's commands. Unless they want to be hunted alongside their master,.

Vikir stepped down from Highbro's throbbing back.

"Wake up."

"Wake up!"

"Wake up!"

"Wake up!"

As the triplets scrambled to their feet, Vikir spoke from behind them.

"From now on, any fighting that is not authorized by me is forbidden. Not even the slightest bickering. For the rest of your lives."

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

The Highbro, Midbro, and Lowbro answered in unison.

Their faces were bright despite their punishment, and that was because of the last words Vikir had spoken.

'For the rest of your lives.'

What does that mean?

'...means you're going to take us for life!'

They had sworn an oath of loyalty to Vikir when they were in Baskerville, and now they were fully reborn as Vikir's Trident, not Baskerville's Trident.

It was Vikir who had recommended the triplets to Hugo and gotten them into the academy in the first place.

No longer were they always on the run, wondering when they would be abandoned by the family.

A dog is a hundred times more courageous when they are sure of their master and have been promised that their master will not abandon them.

What's more, they had witnessed Vikir's fight with Madame Eightlegs, so they had some idea of his true strength.

He has reached this level at just 18 years old, so what will it be like when he gets older?

The triplets were convinced.

that their master would one day swallow Baskerville whole.

And by extension, the entire world.

That's why they were so happy and willing to pledge their allegiance to him.

For as a dog is blessed to have a good master, so is a knight blessed to serve a great lord.

Meanwhile.

Vikir said to the triplets.

"I don't really like being noticed by people. I happened to get a little carried away, but I'm not in trouble anymore."

The triplets nodded believingly.

"We'll take care of the midterms."

"We'll carry it."

"We'll carry."

The triplets said they would do the rest as long as Vikir, the archer, made a good one-deal behind them.

All Vikir has to do is hide in the back and passively take the last hit while the triplets run wild up front.

That way, he'll get a decent grade on the test and stay out of sight.

Highbro explained to Vikir the ins and outs of the entire test.

"When our group 69 takes the field, the virtual reality circle will be activated, which will turn the area around you into a dungeon, and monsters will swarm around you. The poison they release is diluted, but it's real and dangerous if you allow too much of it into your body. But don't worry, my lord. We will guard you vigilantly."

"You know your stuff. Have you practiced before?"

"I've done it a few times in the training grounds of the house when my lord was away. It's not a very difficult test since all you have to do is last as long as possible until your HP goes from 100 to 0. However, since it's a group test, you have to pay some attention to the survival of your companions, in addition to earning your own kill and assist points."

It's the hounds of Baskerville who are born to actually walk the line between life and death.

This kind of virtual reality game is just plain ridiculous.

"Physical damage doesn't take effect until you're down from 100 HP to 0 HP, and poison damage takes effect from the start, right?"

"Yes, and if there's a dangerous incident, the instructors will break the magic firewall and step directly into the arena to intervene."

The monsters were also professor-created golems, so it was a safe test.

"Kills are good, assists are good, so run wild. Just make sure I don't move."

The Highbro, Midbro, and Lowbro smirked at Vikir's words.

They looked like three puppies who had just been told by their master that they could run free.

And then.

Beep.

A whistle sounded, calling out the group that would take the next test.

[First-year group 69!] [The four members of first-year group 69 will please come up to the arena now!]

The skill evaluation of first-year freshmen begins now.

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