The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 113: Grand Banquet (4)

Chapter 113: Grand Banquet (4)

“…?”

Vikir’s mouth slightly hung open in amazement. It was because Hugo, the host of the family and the one organizing the grand banquet, was watching his younger siblings’ argument with a smug expression.

Boston Terrier and Great Dane continued their quarrel. Both Counts were known for their fierceness, which had a disposition to show their teeth rather than bark, but it seemed they were restraining themselves somewhat in Hugo’s presence.

Vikir observed Hugo’s expression carefully. ‘…Why is he smiling like that? Ah, could it be?’

And soon, Vikir came to a conclusion. In Baskerville, fierce disputes occurred daily. Among the heads of the family and the seven Counts, numerous factions existed, including independent ones. They engaged in battles of intrigue, assassination, duels, acquisitions, and mergers.

Therefore, it was the family head’s duty to control and monitor their half-siblings and the factions beneath the seven Counts.

Ironically, the closest siblings were the most formidable adversaries within Baskerville.

So, Hugo, the pinnacle of the Baskerville family, wouldn’t be overly concerned about such power struggles among the Counts. He might even encourage and incite them.

‘As cunning as ever,’ Vikir thought, his tongue clicking in amusement.

While Vikir was deep in thought, Hugo suddenly turned his gaze towards him. When Vikir lowered his eyes back to his plate, Hugo spoke in a subdued voice.

“It’s pleasing to see my son being acknowledged.”

?

What kind of statement was this? Vikir couldn’t help but be bewildered. Hugo’s face still displayed a faint smile, quite out of place.

Vikir remained silent, looking puzzled. Beside him, the butler Barrymore approached and whispered in his ear.

“All seven Counts expressed their desire to attend the grand banquet, but it’s all to see you, my lord. The other five couldn’t make it due to their distant locations.”

“…Is that so?”

“The younger siblings, usually proud and aloof, are now showing signs of unease. It seems even the family head is pleased with this situation. Ah, one never knows whose offspring you are.”

Vikir turned his head again. ‘So, that smug smile wasn’t about enjoying their infighting, but rather about being pleased with his son’s acknowledgment?’

‘Impossible.’

Vikir shook his head. There’s no way the bloodless and unfeeling Hugo could be pleased about something like that.

He pushed aside these pointless thoughts and decided to focus on his meal. Eventually, the meal progressed to the main courses, and a lavish feast was set before them.

‘At least it’s not Haggis this time,’ Vikir thought, feeling a bit relieved that he didn’t have to eat the tasteless and filling Haggis anymore.

Meanwhile,

“Our Sweet Count Great Dane seems to want to eat the dishes raw again. His true nature can’t be hidden.”

“He’s already on how many glasses of wine? Seems quite drunk. He should go to bed soon.”

Boston Terrier and Great Dane were still arguing. Eventually, they realized that growling at each other would only lead to losses.

And from that moment on, both of them tried their best to say even a single word more to Vikir.

“Yeah, Vikir. What about your experiences in the past two years, surviving in enemy territory and the Black Mountain?

Your old man is quite curious. How many barbarians did you kill back then? And monsters, how many did you tear apart?

Ah! Just thinking about it makes my blood boil!

Pit Bull’s blood, mind you! Back in my day! When I was just eight years old, they dropped me deep into enemy territory and I had to take the proficiency test and all that. I even competed with our family head for hunting game, you know!

But our nephew has achieved even greater things! I’m so proud!”

“A brave and clever nephew you are. Your uncle won’t ask you about those trivial matters. Of course, I’m really curious about what my beloved nephew went through in those perilous territories. But that can wait until I read the report you’ll submit later. However, your uncle here wants to ask something else first. It might be awkward coming home after two years, so is there anything you need? If there is, just say the word. Your uncle can get you anything you want…”

And, to the surprise of even the servants, who were always reserved, they showed such a warm side that some of them were startled. Vikir gave a faint smile.

Boston Terrier was openly curious about Vikir’s life in the past two years, and Great Dane also seemed to be pretending not to care, but he had a subtle interest. However, Hugo cut them off.

“First, let the child eat. Don’t bother him too much.”

It was a protective gesture around Vikir. While Vikir was still adapting to this unfamiliar kindness, the two barons withdrew with a grumble.

“Still, I’m curious about how my nephew has grown over the past two years…”

“That’s true. I’m so eager to find out how my nephew, who was amazing two years ago, has achieved even more. So I rushed all the way here…”

But even so, the two Counts couldn’t let go of their lingering feelings. At this, Hugo furrowed his brow slightly.

“So, are you saying you want to grill my son right here during the meal?”

“N-No, it’s not like that…”

“Shut it.”

In the face of Hugo’s imposing presence, even though they were both barons, they couldn’t help but feel intimidated. Boston Terrier and Great Dane slyly averted their gazes.

At that moment, there was a voice that came to the rescue of the two barons.

“It’s about proving your accomplishments; it’s not that difficult.”

It was Vikir.

At Vikir’s words, both Boston Terrier and Great Dane turned pale. Surprisingly, Hugo’s voice carried a note of concern.

“Well, my son, proving your accomplishments means you have to go out to the training grounds. Isn’t it tiring to talk about it during a meal after such a long journey?”

“It’s alright, Father. And…”

Vikir put down the fork he had been holding and began to speak.

“I can demonstrate my skills anytime, anywhere. Isn’t daily training always a form of practice?”

Hugo, Boston Terrier, and Great Dane all looked pleased at Vikir’s words.

“You’ve raised your child very well, my lord.”

“Yes, if I had a son like that, I wouldn’t wish for anything more.”

“Ahem. Enough of that. Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Hugo rubbed his mustache and turned his face. Barrymore, the head butler, watched this with a satisfied expression.

“But, how do you plan to prove your skills?” Boston Terrier asked. Great Dane also looked at Vikir with a curious expression.

Vikir didn’t respond immediately. He simply raised his hand and placed it quietly on the table.

“…”

A brief silence fell. Eventually, Vikir, who had maintained his silence, spoke.

“Dane Uncle’s steak seems slightly undercooked.”

At the same time, Vikir turned his head and looked at Boston Terrier.

“Terrier Uncle’s wine glass seems to be filled a bit too much.”

Upon hearing Vikir’s comment, Boston Terrier and Great Dane looked at each other’s steaks and wine glasses. Then, something astonishing happened.

Ts-ts-ts-ts-ts…

Vikir’s hand trembled slightly, and the tableware on the table shook ever so slightly. Boston Terrier and Great Dane immediately withdrew their hands from the table. Mana emitted from Vikir’s body flowed onto the table.

And then, a strange phenomenon unfolded before the eyes of the two Counts.

Chiiiiiiik…

Great Dane’s steak started sizzling, making sounds as if it were cooking. Although there was no change in the objects around, one side of the steak, in particular, was being cooked by intense heat. The juices evaporated, and steam rose. What was once a perfectly browned rare steak had transformed into a well-done steak.

“Ugh…”

Great Dane picked up his fork. Even though the fork was right next to the steak plate, it was not hot at all. When he pierced the meat, it had a firm texture, and a faint smell of grilling wafted through the air.

Meanwhile, Boston Terrier burst into laughter.

“Hahaha!”

He was also looking at his wine glass. Bubbles were forming in the silverware, and the grape wine inside began to boil, turning a deep purple color. In the blink of an eye, it transformed into sweet-smelling steam, spreading throughout the dining area. The boiling wine ceased precisely when half of it had evaporated.

With just the touch of his palm on the table, Vikir had cooked the meat and boiled the wine. Manipulating mana into objects, controlling the exact points of release, and determining the strength and density of the aura at those points—a state of mastery.

What would happen if this concept was applied to swordsmanship? Injecting mana into a blade and creating precisely controlled auras with the desired intensity and sharpness.

This level of mastery was known in the world as a “Graduator,” a stage beyond Swordexpert. It was the most mature stage that a swordsman, even one ranked among the Empire’s elite warriors, could hope to achieve.

Vikir had reached the level of a Mid-Tier Graduator, a realm that even the geniuses of Baskerville could only aspire to reach at around the age of thirty-five.

Mid tier Graduator at the age of seventeen, the youngest in history. This achievement would obliterate all official records held by baskerville to date.