The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound
chapter-133

Chapter 133: Skill Test (1)

At six in the morning, trumpets echoed through all the dormitories of the Colosseo Academy.

All students, divided by gender, gather in front of the dormitory’s sports field to start their morning routine with exercises.

After about 30 minutes of exercise, they each go their separate ways to have breakfast, take showers, or catch up on some much-needed sleep.

And by 8 o’clock, unless they have something special going on, all students head to the lecture hall.

For those who don’t have classes that day or don’t need to attend, they can use various cultural facilities like the fitness center, library, or theater.

Vikir and Figgy planned to go to the lecture hall after their morning exercises.

But…

Figgy, on his way back from exercise, encountered some patients coming out of the infirmary.

They were the second-year bullies who had harassed Figgy during orientation yesterday.

“…Huh?”

Figgy stopped in his tracks, and the six second-year students also paused when they saw him.

And miraculously…

“Hee-heekkk!”

All six of them quickly scattered, avoiding Figgy.

“…?”

Figgy, who had briefly jumped, looked at the seniors who avoided him with a puzzled expression.

“Why is everyone running away?”

“……”

Vikir looked at Figgy, who seemed bewildered at the second-year bullies who fled in a panic.

Suddenly, the events of last night came to mind.

“Try messing with the Academy inside one more time. Not only you but I’ll also kill your entire wretched families.”

“……”

“If you hear that one day your entire family has been wiped out…… know that it’s all your fault.”

“……”

“Even if you annoy just one person, the rest will suffer too.”

Last night, Vikir had beaten the second-year bullies almost to a pulp.

“……Even after doing this much, if I still feel like tormenting someone, I must have a heart of stone.”

But those guys couldn’t possibly have such audacity.

If they had it in them to come this far, they wouldn’t take pleasure in tormenting only weaker people.

They disappeared, looking around at everyone nearby, it seemed many people had been harassed by them before.

Vikir grinned.

In his previous life, Figgy couldn’t endure school bullying and dropped out, becoming a low-ranking civil servant, barely making a living.

Even though, his parents went into debt just to send him to the academy.

After that, the age of destruction began, and a great war with demons started. Figgy volunteered and went to the front lines, where he contributed significantly through supply strategies, information analysis, and collection.

And just a few months after the war started, Figgy was assassinated.

Vikir still vividly remembered the shocked and distraught expressions of his parents when they saw their son’s lifeless body returned.

“He was a comrade worth admiring.”

Vikir thought as he glanced at Figgy, who was yawning beside him.

In this life, he hoped that his comrade would not lead such a tragic life.

Then.

Someone called Vikir and Figgy as they were about to enter the joint general education classroom in the middle of the lecture hall.

“Hey there, hold on.”

The person who stopped them had a familiar face and voice.

Dolores L Quovadis. She was the student council president, and she stood there with a stern expression.

“This central staircase is for professors only. Students can’t use it. From now on, use the left or right corridors.”

“Yes, understood.”

“And since you entered the restricted area, I have to give you demerits. Minus one point each for both of you. Tell me your names, affiliations, and grades.”

Dolores was strict.

Both Vikir and Figgy received demerits.

These were recorded on a scoreboard enchanted with magic and updated in real-time.

Then.

As Dolores looked at the list of demerits, her expression briefly darkened.

“Vikir. What did you do to accumulate so many demerits already?”

Dolores was surprised to see the significant number of demerits Vikir had acquired since the first day of classes.

Understandably, Vikir had been wandering not only in the dormitory and lecture hall but also in the restricted areas of other buildings to familiarize himself with the Academy’s layout.

“To understand the Academy’s terrain, it was inevitable.”

To transform into the Night Hunter as a hunting dog, he needed to find many openings leading outside.

However, Dolores, who knew nothing about these circumstances, viewed Vikir as merely a lazy and troublesome student.

“No matter what you call it, accumulating too many demerits can negatively affect your grades, you know? Depending on the situation, you might even have to skip classes and engage in volunteer activities both inside and outside the school. It could also harm your class’s reputation, so from now on, be more diligent and cautious in your actions. Understand?”

“Yes, understood.”

Vikir responded with a business-like attitude.

He had tried his best to appear as normal and typical as possible, but it surprised both Dolores and Figgy.

“V-Vikir… Just answering like that won’t do!”

“…?”

Figgy nudged Vikir’s side when he looked puzzled.

With a light sigh, Figgy bowed his waist ninety degrees and respectfully addressed Dolores.

“I’m sorry, senior! We will be careful!”

“……Fine. Just watch yourselves.”

Only then did Dolores nod her head.

With an uncomfortable expression, she looked at Vikir once more before walking away down the hallway.

“Ugh, aren’t you going to get caught by the seniors if you act like this?!”

While Figgy ruffled his disheveled hair, suffering, Vikir remained calm and composed.

Then.

The classroom window opened, and someone from inside began speaking with a graceful tone.

[Es la misión del verdadero caballero. Su deber. ¡No! Su deber no. Su privilegio.]

-It is the mission of a true knight. His duty. No! Not his duty, but his privilege.

[Soñar lo imposible soñar.]

-Dream the impossible dream.

[Vencer al invicto rival,]

-Defeat the unbeatable foe,

[Sufrir el dolor insufrible,]

-Bear the unbearable pain,

[Morir por un noble ideal.]

-Die for a noble ideal.

[Saber enmendar el error,]

-Know how to correct the mistake,

[Amar con pureza y bondad.]

-Love with purity and goodness.

[Querer, en un sueño imposible,]

-To desire, in an impossible dream,

[Con fe, una estrella alcanzar.]

-With faith, to reach a star.

A romantic poem worthy of literature.

The speaker was an elegant young man with blue eyes and beautiful blonde hair.

Tudor Donquixote, the Class President of Cold Department Class A.

Strength, intelligence, appearance, and character, he had it all, a perfect man.

Leaning against the window frame, he winked at Vikir.

“Well, you’ve caught the attention of the student council president on the first day of school, my friends. Haha! From now on, it’s best to be more punctual. I’ve heard that this student council president is very strict about tardiness.”

At that moment, a cold chuckle came from the side.

A female student with long hair tied back tightly followed Donquixote and spoke up.

“Whether you get demerits for being late or have to do mandatory volunteer work, it doesn’t matter to you personally. But don’t ruin the overall image of the Cold Department. There seems to be something called the group attitude score too.”

Bianca Usher of Cold Department Class B, was also present. When Tudor and Bianca each had a word to say to Vikir, the front door of the classroom opened, and a disheveled young woman with short white hair peeked in.

“Ah~ Why are you two fighting on the first day of school~ Friends shouldn’t argue with each other, right? Hey… You’re Vikir and Pi-Figgy, right? Come in quickly! Your seats are by the right window!”

The young woman gestured for Vikir to enter. Her name was Sinclaire, the overall Leader of the Hot Department and the class president of the joint humanities class. Somehow, she remembered their names, and Sinclaire addressed Vikir and Figgy quite warmly.

Figgy, too, seemed quite touched by the fact that Sinclaire had remembered his name and called him by it, even though she spelled it slightly wrong.

The class had begun. It was a compulsory joint humanities class that all students in the Cold Department and Hot Department had to take. It was a theoretical class where they studied the ecology and culture of creatures like monsters and savages.

Many students either struggled with the difficult content, furiously taking notes or gave up entirely, slumping in their seats. Some freshmen, intimidated by the notorious difficulty warned by their seniors, even chose to flee the class.

And then, Tudor and Bianca, the joint leaders of the Cold Department, exchanged glances and opened their eyes wide at each other.

“When I was talking to those friends who were late earlier, you cut in as you pleased, right? Don’t do that from now on.”

“That’s my business, isn’t it? If I see pathetic people, I feel like saying something to relieve my frustration.”

“I don’t exactly look kindly upon those who are late either. But I really hate being interrupted. Keep that in mind.”

“I will. Why should I bother keeping track of what you like and dislike? You’re a ridiculous guy.”

As joint leaders, they were already engaged in a fierce mental battle from the start.

Was that why? Tudor and Bianca even competed with each other in the theory class to win.

And both of them had another common enemy besides each other.

Sinclaire, the overall chief of the Hot Department. She smiled brightly at Tudor and Bianca, who were staring at her, seeming to shoot sunshine at them.

She was not only skilled in practical skills but also excelled in theory, ranking second overall. So, Tudor and Bianca were also competing against Sinclaire in addition to each other.

In other words, it was a showdown between the Hot Department and the Cold Department.

Then, the professor suddenly posed a surprise question to all the students.

“…Like this. The lecture on the culture of the savage tribe ‘Ballak’ has concluded. Now, let’s see how well you have memorized and understood what I have taught you.”

The stern-faced professor adjusted his small glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Then, in his dry voice devoid of any moisture, he presented the question.

“Based on the locations where Ballak hunters have been found so far and their culture, tell me where their main base might be. Identifying the enemy’s main base based on the locations of conflicts with the enemy is crucial in military strategy.”

Answering this question was not easy unless you had memorized and understood the geography of the areas where the Ballak’s culture, combat methods, and locations of previous encounters had been discussed.

“…”

Silence filled the classroom. There was no one among the freshmen who could answer this difficult question.

In fact, this was a question with a level of difficulty that even third-year students would find challenging.

The professor, seeing that no one was answering, raised the attendance book.

“Who is the top student in the Cold Department this year? Tudor. Is it you?”

“Huh? Uh, yes! Yes!”

Tudor answered promptly. However, under the professor’s piercing gaze, he couldn’t utter another word.

“Uhm, well, the places where conflicts between the Ballak and the Empire occurred are the Western Front’s 1st, 8th, and 75th highlands… uh…”

“1, 8, 75 highlands. Are those the places?”

“Th-that’s… um…”

Tudor couldn’t give a proper answer, so the professor lightly clicked his tongue and turned his gaze back to the attendance book.

“Seems like this year’s top student in the Cold Department is a tie, huh? Bianca. Would you like to try answering?”

“Yes? Um, well…”

Bianca rolled her eyes once. She wanted to add her knowledge to what Tudor had just said.

“The places where conflicts between the Balak and the Empire occurred are the Western Front’s 1st, 7th, 8th, 75th, and 207th highlands. Considering that all these places are low-lying terrains, it’s possible that Ballak’s main base is not in the low plains…”

“Wait. Are you absolutely certain that it’s 1, 7, 8, 75, and 207 highlands? And are you sure that all the fortresses you just mentioned are in low-lying terrains?”

“Th-that, well…”

Bianca stumbled, just like Tudor. The professor clicked his tongue once again.

Then, he turned his gaze back to the attendance book and called out another name.

“Sinclaire! Are you the top student of the Hot Department this year?”

“…Yes, sir.”

Sinclair nodded calmly, but her expression was slightly tense. The professor nodded again, signaling her to answer.

Sinclair took a deep breath and began speaking.

“According to the information published by the military, the places where conflicts between the Balak and the Empire occurred are the Western Front’s 1st, 4th, 5th, 7th, 8th, 30th, 75th, and 207th highlands. Except for the 8th highland, which is a high mountain peak, all these places are low-lying terrains. Taking all this into consideration, I believe the Balak’s main base might be in a low-lying area deep within their known territory.”

Her explanation was concise and clear, aligning perfectly with the established theory in academia. The professor, who had been quite demanding, nodded in approval.

“It looks like the Hot Department is better than the Cold Department this year. Sinclaire, your attitude score gets a 10-point boost. And I’ll add 1 point to the overall attitude score of the Hot Department.”

This statement brought relief and smiles to all Hot Department students, but the faces of the Cold department students wrinkled.

Tudor and Bianca could only sigh and bear it.

Right at that moment, the professor’s already furrowed brow wrinkled even more. He spoke with a slightly uncomfortable tone.

“…No, maybe it’s not that the Hot Department is exceptional, but the Cold Department is pitiful. Looking at that sorry sight…”

This statement surprised the Cold Department students. All eyes in the classroom turned toward the source of the professor’s gaze.

It was a seat right by the window on the right side of the classroom, just below the fluttering curtains. A male student with messy hair covering his face and thick horn-rimmed glasses was slumped in his seat, snoring.

It was Vikir.