The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 127: Academy Admission (2)

Chapter 127: Academy Admission (2)

“Well, this is where I’ll be attending from today!”

A young boy is enrolling in the academy.

With determined aspirations, he walked confidently through the academy’s main gate.

And just like him, many others, the freshmen of the Class of 20, formed a massive crowd as they walked the same path as if swimming upstream toward a spawning ground.

Then, from behind, the voice of a middle-aged woman is heard.

“Oh my! Look at him! What if he forgot his backpack!”

The woman, who appears to be the young student’s mother, rushes towards the academy’s main gate, calling her son’s name frantically.

“Hey! Vikir! Don’t forget your backpack!”

Upon hearing this, some of the people climbing the uphill path toward the main gate turn their heads.

“Huh?”

“Me?”

“Who, me?”

About ten boys scattered around turned their heads because they all shared the common name, ‘Vikir’

“Oh, Mom! Stop calling me so loudly, It’s embarrassing?!”

Vikir, who left his backpack and hastily came down, picks up his backpack with a bright red face and climbs the uphill path again.

The remaining nine Vikirs also turned their heads, realizing that it wasn’t their mothers who called.

…But.

There was one Vikir who never turned around in the first place.

With a stuffy fringe covering his face, horn-rimmed glasses completely hiding his eyes, and dressed in shabby clothes, he carried a modest load as a new student.

Vikir. Vikir Van Baskerville.

A boy who temporarily set aside his family’s noble status in Baskerville and took the academy entrance exam as a commoner.

Vikir believed he made the right choice by leaving Baskerville’s name behind.

It was because his name, ‘Vikir Van Baskerville,’ had become too famous, even in the royal capital, causing his daily life to become extremely inconvenient.

“…It goes against the fundamental purpose of coming to the academy.”

Vikir had a clear goal in mind for enrolling in the academy.

It was to hunt down the demons hidden in the imperial capital, the traitors to humanity, the conspirators, and kill them.

By doing so, he aimed to prevent the impending era of destruction.

Vikir recalled his memories from before his reincarnation.

Ten high-ranking demons descended into the human realm.

They gathered their strength and erected ten enormous pillars, creating a gateway to the demon realm on the sky.

One of those demon lords was ‘Andromalius,’ who was wearing the skin of Seth Le Baskerville.

Fortunately, he was defeated before he could accumulate enough power, but if they had delayed even a little longer, it could have been a disaster.

If it hadn’t been for Vikir at the time, no one would have noticed Andromalius’s existence.

The remaining nine demon lords of that level were undoubtedly hiding among humans, wearing human skins.

“According to Cindiwendy’s investigation, some high-ranking officials who had contact with Seth are living here in the imperial capital.”

Where there are many people, the likelihood of demons hiding is naturally higher.

So, Vikir also came to this academy in the imperial capital and adopted an identity appropriate to avoid suspicion.

A new student from the commoner class.

Although he would have to occasionally attend classes, he also had to go outside the academy for assassination missions. If he became too famous and attracted attention, it would create various problems.

Therefore, Vikir intentionally enrolled as a commoner.

“That, too, by focusing only on the written exam.”

“…I’m confident in theoretical studies.”

Getting first place might have been a bit excessive, but in reality, written scores weren’t treated with much regard.

Perhaps it was due to the regret of not properly attending theoretical classes in his previous life.

An Analysis of the Behavior and Strategies of Snow Wolves Living in the Red and Black Mountain Ranges…>

The field experience of a seasoned warrior who had survived the era of destruction proved immensely helpful in both articulating and explaining theories and techniques.

Therefore, Vikir was able to comfortably complete the exam paper, and that alone secured him the honor of being in first place.

On the other hand, as Vikir made his way to the dormitory to unpack his belongings, many upperclassmen were waiting to welcome the newcomers.

“Do you practice the Way? How about exploring it in our Domino Club?”

“Hey! You seem incredibly lucky! How about joining our Pufferfish Cooking Research Society?”

“We’re trying to share some good words! Come over here! Our Meditation Club…”

Various clubs, research societies, discussion groups, and clubs of all sorts were trying hard to appeal to the freshmen.

Among them, the most popular clubs for freshmen were the major clubs that helped build their resumes or the ones that simply sounded cool.

Student councils, various sports teams, bands, dance groups, drama clubs, economic research teams, cooking clubs, and more were the main attractions for the freshmen.

In contrast, clubs like the newspaper club, gardening club, art club, reading club, and stick insect research club were relatively unpopular.

On the other hand, some upperclassmen were actively seeking out specific freshmen for club recruitment.

First on their list were Donquixote’s Tudor known for his mastery of spear techniques and Usher’ House’s “Bianca” famous for her archery skills.

Although her affiliations were unknown, “SinClaire,” who achieved an astounding ranking of 1st in practical and 2nd in written exams, was also highly sought after.

…But all of this didn’t interest Vikir.

He was eager to get to his dormitory, unpack his things, and rest because starting tonight, he would be heading out on an assassination mission.

“Especially the ‘Death List’… It’s several pages long.”

The Deathlist.

There were many among humans, not just demons, who deserved to die.

These were the betrayers who sided with demons, selling out humanity.

“…There are too many to kill.”

As Vikir walked among the fresh-faced freshmen, he was lost in his own thoughts.

And that’s when he heard a familiar voice from somewhere.

“Newspaper Club! Join the Newspaper Club! Get the latest school information quickly!”

Vikir turned his gaze to the familiar face, a young girl handing out flyers and application forms, charming the crowd with her persuasive speech.

It was Dolores L. Quovadis.

The youngest early admission student.

Current 3rd-year valedictorian.

The student council president of the academy.

And the head of the Newspaper Club.

Over the past three years, there hasn’t been a single time she missed being number one, making her the school’s top idol. She was personally handing out entrance application forms.

“Senpai! Please take a look here! Kyaaah!”

“Unnie! I’m your fan! I love you!”

“I entered the academy just to see you!”

“Wow! You’re incredibly beautiful! So dignified and holy!”

Freshmen were crowding around to get the flyers from this legendary senior, just hoping to catch her eye even once.

“…”

But Vikir, with his covered face and thick horn-rimmed glasses, pressed on, trying to avoid drawing any attention. He had already crossed paths with Saint Dolores before when he was active as night hunter.

At that time, thanks to her, they were able to quell the Red Death. But back then, he wore a mask, so the current Saint had no idea what his face looked like. Therefore, Vikir decided to keep his distance to avoid revealing his identity.

The atmosphere in the dormitory building was quite relaxed. The building was grand, but individual students didn’t need to roam around the entire building. It was well-designed to keep things simple, limited to the floor with their rooms, the hallway, and stairs.

The boys’ and girls’ dormitories were two separate buildings arranged in a ‘?’ shape, strictly segregated, and allocated by grade. The 4th-years occupied the 1st floor, 3rd-years the 2nd floor, 2nd-years the 3rd floor, and 1st-years the 4th floor. It seemed like they had considered the difficulty of climbing stairs as students got older.

The rooms were 2-person dorms that were neither too big nor too small. The standard layout included a large bunk bed, a large desk, and two chairs. Apart from the slightly old bathrooms, it felt like a typical youth hostel.

“Thud!”

Arriving in his room, Vikir placed a few articles of clothing, his only possessions, on the desk. Then, he heard a voice coming from near the bathroom.

“…Uh, hello? Is this your room too?”

Vikir turned his head and saw a short male student standing there. He had blond hair, slightly chubby cheeks, and a hint of braces on his teeth. His girly appearance was rather cute.

There was a name tag attached to his chest with somewhat outdated handwriting.

“Figgy.”

Vikir’s roommate, whom he would share the room with for a year, was already familiar to him.

“Vikir. Nice to meet you. Please bear with me if I’m a bit slow in my actions. Oh, and the beds are bunk beds. You can choose the one you like first!”

Vikir took a moment to appreciate Figgy’s cheerful introduction. This guy was Figgy, someone he had met before and was already acquainted with. They had a connection from their previous life, a good-natured lad who extended his hand first to help out Vikir, who was working as a seed for the Baskerville Triplets.

In this life as well, Figgy remained a kind soul.

Figgy’s bright suggestion allowed Vikir to take a short break. The students of the academy were young but astute. They had been exposed to a certain degree of scheming, betrayal, politics, and exclusion due to their experiences as individuals who had been hailed as elite and faced the outside world.

In this jungle of first-year students, a good and innocent lad like Figgy was likely to be quickly overwhelmed.

“…It was the same in my previous life.”

Figgy had been a victim of school violence for a long time. His cute appearance, small stature, and timid personality made him an easy target for the larger, more aggressive male students. His quiet hobbies of reading and analyzing information didn’t align with the overall atmosphere of the school and emphasized physical strength, and that only isolated him further.

Vikir knew this and couldn’t help but look at Figgy with sympathy.

“Before the regression, Figgy’s roommate was Highbro Le Baskerville, right? I wonder what kind of school life Figgy had back then.”

Whether Figgy knew it or not, Vikir was relieved to have a roommate who, despite their initial shyness, seemed kind. It was evident that Figgy had worried a lot about the possibility of having a scary roommate.

At that moment, Figgy initiated the conversation with Vikir.

“Vikir, are you going to the O.T. later in the evening?”

Freshmen orientation, known as “orientation” for short, was an event where new students were educated about various aspects of the school. In reality, it was a gathering where senior students met with freshmen, shared drinks, and formed connections. While attendance wasn’t mandatory, all freshmen naturally participated in it.

It was an opportunity to become friends with the classmates they would spend the next four years with and build connections with senior students. The faces that stood out here would become the foundation for future success, known as the “line.” They entered this school after enduring a competitive selection process, and now, to build these connections, they would have to navigate the fierce competition.

However, Vikir had no interest in such things.

“No.”

He didn’t care about those social gatherings. After all, he had a real job to do now: the assassination mission.