Chapter 219 My Neck Will Be Your Sheath (4)
Everyone in the world wears glasses that do not match their prescription.
Swordmasters are those who have removed them.
They have surpassed the realm of Graduator and have attained superhuman status, allowing them to see things that ordinary people cannot.
“Heart Sword.”
Capable of piercing through emotions and unseen things.
snip-
The sword, which had made it to the realm of the Swordmaster, cut through the air.
In a massive trajectory, the seventh fang cut space in half.
“…!”
Vikir felt his mana surging, not like a mana explosion, but an immense power supporting his back.
The overwhelming power, vision, and mindset of the Swordmaster, a realm that had long since transcended humanity.
It’s no surprise that the rest are regarded as insects or expendable.
…But, unlike Hugo, Vikir could understand him but not empathize with him.
Hugo lost his love the moment he crossed the last wall, and Vikir reclaimed it.
Qua-qua-qua-quack!
The sound followed about a second after the sword had passed, and a formidable shockwave swept away the surrounding black mist.
However…
…Thud!
Surprisingly, Camus, standing in the midst of the storm, was unharmed. She simply collapsed onto the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
Simultaneously.
[Gaahh?! Ggueuh!?]
The dispersed black mist gathered again into a singular form.
IT was Sere, entwined with the threads of the contract with Camus.
However, due to Vikir’s onslaught, the connection with the demon was severed moments ago.
[No way! Breaking the contract with a demon. How can this be…]
It squeezed out its remaining life force and detached from Camus’s body.
But.
What lay ahead of her were seven fangs of a cruel hunting dog.
[No! I can’t die, I HAVE MY DUTY TO MY REALM…!]
Sere kept shouting her reason to live, but it ironically made Vikir more certain of why she should kill her.
…Flash!
The space within the barrier was split into seven pieces.
A thunderous assault as quick as lightning. Seven crimson thunders, accompanied by a storm, completely disintegrated Sere’s lingering thoughts in mid-air.
Rip-
Sere vanished without a single scrap of flesh or a trace of his soul.
Vikir thought to himself
‘If Sere had been a bit stronger, it would have been difficult to deal with her.’
Demons grow stronger with time, especially someone like Sere, the eighth corpse, leading a large army of the undead.
Discovering and eliminating her early on was truly a tremendous stroke of luck.
Meanwhile, Vikir retrieved the Picaresque mask and the Black bow Anubis.
His body, reaching the Swordmaster realm, had undergone a significant transformation. He grew taller, and his physique became even more robust.
“…”
The flowers of joy and sorrow (emotions), that were once halted to become a Graduator, were now blooming with vitality again since becoming a Swordmaster.
At that moment, a crack!
A black lightning fell.
“…!?”
As Vikir turned his head, Camus’s body was fading.
A magic circle was drawn around her unconscious form.
…Pah!
Teleportation. A technique for moving short distances. Gerento was, once again, the one moving Camus’s body.
As the teleportation magic activated, Vikir hesitated. Should he extend his sword and sever Gerento’s neck?
“…”
[…….]
In that brief moment, Vikir and Gerento’s gazes met.
“…”
However, Vikir ultimately didn’t make a move. He decided to let Camus, whom he had just reunited with after a long time, go.
Gerento silently lifted her head, looking at Vikir as if expressing gratitude, as if she were extending a word of thanks.
Vikir partially lifted the barrier, and Gerento, taking advantage of the opening, disappeared with Camus.
Hiss-
Eventually, within the now-empty barrier, only Vikir remained.
…No, he wasn’t alone.
[Hak-hak-hak-]
Suddenly, baby madam perched on Vikir’s shoulder, rubbing its body against Vikir’s cheek, as if asking why he let the enemy go.
With eyes that seemed to question why he didn’t just finish off the demon.
Vikir responded briefly, “She is a demon who cherishes and lives for her sister. I have my reasons.”
Gerento, even in the past when Camus lost consciousness, never attacked Vikir but only acted to protect her. Vikir judged that there must be a reason for Gerento’s actions this time as well.
‘The healing methods of a dark magician are different from ordinary ones. Potions and healing spells are in direct opposition to the dark mana flowing within a dark magician’s body. There must be some other method of treatment.’
Vikir had no choice but to hope that Geronto would treat Camus properly because the streets of the Academy appeared immediately after passing through the barrier.
* * *
On the other hand, “The barrier has disappeared!” Professor Banshee, who had been reading the flow of mana around with closed eyes, exclaimed.
Professors and members of the Royal Guard who hurriedly arrived after receiving the message, all couldn’t help but be bewildered.
“Where the hell is Night Hound?”
“And what about the unregistered dark magician!?”
“Where did they disappear to!?”
However, even Professor Banshee, with the highest mastery of magic among them, couldn’t determine where this barrier was set up and where it vanished. He could faintly sense a presence but even that slipped away.
A cold sweat dripped down Professor Banshee’s face.
“Indeed, a secretive technique. A level of barrier magic that cannot be easily speculated by human standards,” said Banshee.
When everyone was astonished, someone laughed loudly.
“Ho ho ho – Indeed, this is the skill of a demon. Night Hound is truly something. Artistic as always.”
Professor Sadi, with one eye covered with a blindfold, chuckled. The gazes around became sharp. Professor Banshee, representing them, delivered a sharp retort.
“As a Professor and a consultant to the Royal Guard, refrain from actions that seem to praise criminals, Professor Sadi.”
“Don’t address me with that mouth of yours, old man.”
Professors Banshee and Sadi once again began bickering.
Meanwhile, the students were expressionless. As the night dew fell, the festival’s heat subsided, and everyone returned to sobriety after the alcohol-fueled atmosphere.
“What exactly is going on?” Why did all of the performances come to a halt? “Why is the music turned off?”
“I heard villains attacked.”
“No way, that can’t be.” “What on earth is going on at the academy?”
“That’s correct. The Royal Guard has arrived, as have the professors.”
“Wow, amazing! The villain who attacked us, was Night Hound!”
“Crazy!? Really!? How much damage has been done?”
“…Surprisingly, none. No reported injuries.”
Everyone was buzzing with discussions. Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, and Sinclaire were also muttering among themselves.
“Did you see? Did you? That woman with a skull mask was really terrifying.”
“It’s embarrassing, but I was so scared that I couldn’t muster the courage to confront her. What was that, anyway?”
“Woah – I really thought my heart was shaking so much that I might faint.”
“Night Hound was also quite frightening. He is without a doubt the most ferocious of everything I’ve seen so far.”
“Yeah, yeah, I only heard their voices, but I almost peed my pants…”
A voice joined the conversation of friends subtly at that moment.
“For real. I’m so terrified that I can’t even breathe.”
Vikir was the one who said that. His friends naturally resumed talking because they hadn’t noticed his absence during their lively discussion.
“Vikir! Where were you, you devil! We were worried!”
“Weren’t you in the bar kitchen just now? It’s a relief that you’re okay.”
“Uwah, Vikir! I was worried! We went to get the professors and were searching for you, but you weren’t there!”
“Come to think of it, where were you?”
“Big Brother also went to call the professors!”
Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, and Sinclair each welcomed Vikir and said a word or two.
At that moment, “…Vikir?”
There was only one person questioning Vikir, and it was Saint Dolores.
She turned to Vikir with a curious expression, “I didn’t see you during the search of this area. Where were you all this time? I find it hard to believe that someone as committed as you would hide or run away, leaving your friends behind.”
Her eyes revealed pure curiosity. Vikir, who had sacrificed himself for his friends during the midterms, wouldn’t have avoided putting himself in danger during such a crisis. As Dolores raised a reasonable question, Tudor, Sancho, Figgy, Bianca, and Sinclaire, once again, directed their gaze toward Vikir.
“…That’s…”
Just as Vikir was hesitating, about to make an excuse, three voices came to his defense, “This commoner! So what if he leaves the defense line alone? He almost died!”
“He almost died!”
“He almost died!”
Highbro, Middlebro, and Lowbro, the triplets. They stood in front of Vikir, blocking his way.
“This kid shoots arrows well. If he rushes ahead like that everytime, what will happen? Don’t act so recklessly next time.”
“Don’t act recklessly.”
“Don’t act recklessly.”
Was it to divert attention? The triplets from Baskerville seemed to be making a ruckus, grabbing Vikir’s head or grabbing him by the neck.
At that moment, Vikir, from an angle that no one could see, glanced at the triplets.
‘Don’t fucking overdo it.’
‘…Yes.’
The triplets slightly eased their grip on Vikir.
After that, life returned to the way it used to be.
Tudor warned Vikir not to mess around, and the triplets of Baskerville withdrew at the right time.
The professors were all busy analyzing the situation. Their eyes seemed to be calculating good material for research papers.
“Maybe Night Hound can only use his strength at night? That’s why he ran away as dawn approached.”
“In that case, he could be some kind of vampire creature.”
“But who ultimately suppressed the situation?”
“Considering the witnesses’ statements, Professors Banshee and Sadi seem to have played a significant role.”
“Before that… It seems that Osiris Le Baskerville, the former student council president who graduated from the academy a long time ago, was here! I suspect he might have helped.”
A convincing argument. A forced conclusion. Everything was the same as before.
“…”
Vikir raised his head as he stood near the climax of the major incident and the start of everyday life.
Night slowly faded, and the morning sun rose up.
Even the darkest darkness retreats in the face of the weakest light.
Vikir proved that today and stood here alive.
For a moment his mind wandered to his past life, He was deeply moved by the chest-throbbing feeling of safely welcoming the dawn as he stood at the end of the battlefield where he had fought risking his life.
…But one thought haunted his mind.
‘Will she be okay…’
He was worried about Camus.
