The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

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Did they pick a fight with someone older than them? Of course, they will naturally be stronger.
Even a blind man can judge which ones are stronger and weaker before they fight.”

 

Hugo clicked his tongue, while John corrected him.

 

“That….
The young master who made Master Hiro, Viro, and Loro like this was way younger than them.”

 

“What? Did the whole 8-year-old class kids gang upon them?”

 

“No.
Only one.”

 

At those words, Hugo's eyes lit up again.

 

“He is the one I mentioned earlier, the one who got first place in the test, Young Master Vikir.”

 

⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩

 

Vikir van Baskerville. 

 

8 years old this year.

 

He was summoned by the governor and headed to the chamber of secret, which was located in the depths of the palace.

 

He opened the door and walked in. 

 

There he saw the gigantic figure of Hugo Les Baskerville.

 

“Sit down.”

 

Although he did not show any particular aura, the mana emanating from him was heavy.

 

Vikir moved carefully so that the mana hidden in his body would not be discovered.

 

He was confident in hiding his mana

 

The warriors who have gone through a long period of confrontation with the demons and experienced the era of destruction are well-versed in concealing their mana.

 

This way to completely hide mana can not be performed by those who had not experienced the era of destruction.

 

It wasn't a matter of strength, it was a matter of skill.

 

However, there is a limit to that, too.

 

If he concealed too much of his mana, then that will inevitably stand out in Hugo's eyes.

 

'I'll have to find a way out of this soon.'

 

Vikir thought to himself and sat down on the small chair in front of him.

 

Hugo opened his mouth.

 

“You’ve grown a lot while I haven’t seen you.”

 

Hearing this, Vikir was a little surprised.

 

His voice, which had always been forged like a knife that can cut others just by hearing, was quite dull today.

 

And the lines he uttered were also quite surprising.

 

'The piglets are big, so why are they always so weak and dirty every time I see them?'

 

Before returning, Hugo, who found the childish nature of the kids, used to say it all the time.

 

He watched the growth of his children as livestock and always looked at them like a butcher who was impatient to sell the livestock quickly, but today his eyes were strangely warm.

 

It was as if he was expecting something.

 

“Greetings, my Lord.”

 

Vikir gave a bright greeting.

 

However, Hugo, who has been called 'Lord', doesn't seem to like it.

 

“Lord? yes.
I am the Lord.”

 

He thought about something for a while and then changed the topic as if it had never happened.

 

“I was told that you had crippled the triplets.” 

 

Vikir replied.

 

“As far as I know, the older brothers have received appropriate treatment immediately afterward.
Hence there seem to be no physical disabilities.”

 

Hugo frowned.

 

“The thing you crippled was their hearts?”

 

“Since that day, I’ve been told that they ate separately, slept separately, and did not mix well with each other.
The three of them were excellent at combination skills, but now they have lost their advantage completely due to their bad relationship.”

 

Was that the end? 

 

No. 

 

These days, all three of them end up peeing just by making eye contact with each other.

 

A dog that has lost its fighting spirit is useless for eternity.

 

However, Vikir did not dare to speak these words out of his mouth.

 

However, he still boldly made a statement.

 

“It’s heavy and useless to carry three sloppy knives at once, right? It would be better to carry a famous sword that was forged carefully by the craftsman.”

 

At those words, Hugo's eyes widened.

 

“…That’s right.”

 

He sweeps his chin and looks down at the 8-year-old kid in front of him.

 

“But don’t you think it was wrong to beat up your own brothers?”

 

At Hugo's words, Vikir questioned, while seemingly puzzled.

 

“My fault? What did I do wrong?”

 

“What? I am talking about you beating your brothers to pieces.”

 

At Hugo's question, Vickir tilted his head as if he couldn’t comprehend his words.

 

“Why is that wrong? I am stronger.”

 

“….what?”

 

Vikir thrust a wedge towards Hugo, who had a blank expression on his face.

 

“How can the strong do something wrong?”

 

The strong should be respected, while the weak are sinful.

 

That is the motto of Baskerville. 

 

Soon, the corners of Hugo Les Baskerville's lips began to twitch.

 

It was as if the small, bold guy in front of him looked so cute.