Iron Blooded Hound

The atmosphere in the training center heated up as Vikir's words echoed.

Members of House Baskerville were typically cold individuals who cared little for others, except for one thing: when it came to combat, they were always intrigued. That held true even for the ruthless Hugo.

"Hmm."

Hugo began to ponder. Watching him, Vikir thought to himself, "Showing strength in moderation is better."

It wasn't that Hugo hadn't considered everything. But, it would be less unsettling for Hugo to see his accomplishments early on. Demonstrating promise early on would also give him a reason to stay off Hugo's radar.

"Or perhaps, admission to the Institute."

The third option was an unwanted one, so he put it on pause, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. It was time to focus on the present.

Meanwhile, Hugo had finished his thoughts.

"Bikir has a point. You're at the age where you want to take care of business."

Not the most appropriate comment for an eight-year-old, but it seemed fitting, at least within Baskerville.

Hugo continued, "It seems that the orcs from afar are not enough for my son's prowess. Are there higher monsters in your family's scavenging grounds?"

"You'd think they'd find a superior bug in the bug bowl. Yet, in the Baskervilles' collection, every single one of them is a plague. They're no match for an eight-year-old."

Knowing this, nobody, including Elder Barrymore, spoke readily.

Hugo, unable to bear the silence, spoke first.

"On second thought, isn't there an artifact that you captured as an investigation when you were eradicating the brutes?"

"Yes, there is just one left."

Elder Barrymore answered humbly.

Hugo grinned. "It must be weakened from not being cared for for such a long time."

"Ha, but they'll be just as savage, I'm afraid, and not much of a match for one who's just turned eight years of age..."

"Well, if he does, the Guardian Knights will stop him, and that's the least of the steward's concerns."

Hugo waved his hand dismissively at Elder Barrymore's concern.

His pondering was brief, his decision even shorter. Soon, the Guardian Knights were pulling Vikir's opponent from the depths of the dungeon.

Pound, pound, pound, pound. The earth shook faintly.

Then, a massive creature began to emerge, wearing various heavy restraints and bindings.

It had a short neck, two arms and legs, bizarrely twisted teeth, weighed over 400 kilograms, and stood four meters tall.

"A savage."

The savage shook the chains and heavy lead weights around his neck, wrists, and ankles. It looked like it had been starving for a long time.

Vikir squinted at the savage before him. Then, as the savage stepped out into the center of the arena, the hunt was on.

Vikir lunged at it, short sword at the ready. And then...

Boom.

The savage's arm swung. Vikir dodged low, avoiding the savage's fist and plunging his blade into the vulnerable spot on its side.

Time to deliver the killing blow!

But...

Wham!

Vikir didn't actually strike the savage in the side. He simply walked past it and reset his position.

Hugo grinned. "Smart move."

Zagoro savages are highly regenerative, able to heal from wounds to their flanks and stomachs. It's a lost cause unless you're trying to hit them where it will hurt, which is why Vikir saw no point in trying to pick their openings.

The savage continued to thrash about, losing health with each frenzy. Its attacks became less precise and its speed even slower.

Vikir watched the savage's reckless behavior, waiting for the one moment that would decide the game.

And then...

Grrrrr!

The savage lunged at him, throwing its entire body at him. Vikir realized it was time to move out of the way and quickly leaped forward.

Vikir used the force of the savage's heavy body to push his blade in from the opposite direction, slicing through the tough layers of leather and muscle and severing the nerve clusters in its neck.

And then...

...Whoosh!

A faint ethereal aura emanated from the tip of Vikir's blade. The same one that had impressed everyone in the orc battle earlier.

Vikir's aura formed a distinct tooth-like shape and flew straight for the savage's throat.

Pow!

One sharp tooth sank deep into the savage's neck. In the next moment, Vikir twisted his body and darted through the gap between the savage's sides, instantly creating a gaping hole in the savage's neck.

"Oooooh!"

Everyone watching gasped in astonishment.

But the savage was not dead. It stuck its fist into the opening in its neck and snarled as it looked out for the injury.

A weak groan escaped the spectators.

"Oh, no. I suppose one Baskerville isn't enough for a savage."

"It's certainly a bit harder with an ethereal aura."

"It's a shame, but it's still a remarkable feat for an eight-year-old to have gotten this far."

Vikir knew that already. True, with Lucifer's ability to drain, the savage would die a natural death in time, but it was pointless to win that way.

"No more. Any more could be dangerous, so let's stop here..."

Hugo raised his hand to stop the fight.

"Restraints."

Vikir spoke up.

"Release the restraints."

At those words, the faces of all the Baskervilles stiffened.

Releasing the restraints on a savage?

"...."

"...."

"...."

Everyone's eyes turned to Vikir and Hugo.

"...."

Even the stoic Hugo was taken aback.

Then, slowly, his mouth opened.

"My son, you have already proved your worth. It is the mark of a warrior to leave when he is satisfied."

The tone was gruff. The Baskervilles were all shocked by Hugo's demeanor, something they had never seen.

But the shock was short-lived, as Vikir's words redirected everyone's attention back to him.

"We're almost there, and if I don't finish it with the next strike, I'll end it cleanly."

A declaration of war.

Vikir's words startled all the Baskervilles, including Hugo.

How in the world did they plan to bring down this savage whose determination was unparalleled?

"...."

Hugo fell silent. The signal to continue the fight.

[Caw! Caw! Caw!]

The savages roared.

Several of the Guardian Knights stepped out of the savage's frenzy, removed the sleeves and chains, and led him back out of the dungeon.

Then, the savage, now completely free, pulled himself to his feet.

His eyes, red and bloodshot, no longer even pupils.

[He-ahhhhhh!]

With a throaty roar, the savage leaped at Vikir with renewed vigor.

But Vikir met the charging savage with a steady gaze.

"How far should I show my power?"

The question had been answered proactively before nightfall.

...Pow!

The tip of Vikir's short sword glowed slightly brighter than before.

Some of the veterans recognized it instantly. The density of Vikir's

aura had changed.

But there was no time to ponder it, as Vikir pressed on with his course of action.

Kiririk-Karak!

The tip of the blade streaked towards the charging savage. Teeth clearly visible.

The savage, breaking free from its restraints, running even faster, and the force of the impact even stronger.

And then...

...Poof!

The savage, faster and stronger than before, was impaled once again by the tip of the blade, faster and stronger than before.

And then...

There were two teeth sinking into the savage's neck this time.

The first tooth tore a hole in the savage's neck.

And a second tooth, smaller and fainter, but clearly visible, biting fiercely into the side of the savage's neck.

Baskerville 66%.

And Blade Master Moderate.

...thud!

The savage behemoth, beheaded, dropped to its knees on the ground.

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