The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 129: The Freshman Talent Show (1)

Chapter 129: The Freshman Talent Show (1)

Vikir walked into the lecture hall in search of class B of the Cold Class.

A large group of people were gathered in a circle, drinking, and in the center of the room, one by one, the new students came forward to perform a talent show.

As Vikir walked into the classroom, he heard a welcoming voice right by the door.

"Vikir, you're back! Why are you so late?"

It was his roommate, Piggy.

Piggy was so happy to see him that he rummaged through a box on the table and pulled out a nametag that read, "'Vikir, class 20?".

"It's my job to hand out name tags to everyone who comes in. Here's yours!"

"... Why are you doing this job?"

Handing out nametags to newcomers is usually the job of the second-year seniors.

Since Piggy is also a newcomer, why is he doing the chore of handing out name tags to his classmates?

Vikir wondered.

Then Piggy smiled wryly.

"Oh, the seniors said it's a hassle to keep track of all the name tags, so they asked me to help out a little."

Vikir's head snapped up at that.

Sure enough, several of the sophomores who had deferred to Piggy had mingled with the crowd, watching the newcomers' talent show.

"Whoa! Tudor is awesome! Encore!"

"Swoon! Cold Class! Go Tudors!"

"You're the best, Tudor! My sister's already a fan, eek!"

A pretty tough bunch, even for sophomores.

To get to know the newcomers who seemed to be doing well, they had already assigned chores to Piggy, who didn't seem to have any ability or backbone, so I thought they were definitely quick to understand.

Meanwhile.

In the center of the stage, the newcomers who have completed the talent show are seated in rows on one side of a long table.

On the other side of the table are a few professors, teaching assistants, and seniors.

The seniors are few and far between, as they are preparing to enter the workforce.

St. Dolores, the student council president, was making the rounds to each class, stopping to check on the remaining juniors.

"The president is here!"

"Saint, I would be honored if you would accept my cup!"

"Sister, you're here to write an article for the Cold Clas's senior and junior reunion, right? Please take care of the article!"

"I love you president! Kyaaak!"

Dolores was a hit with everyone; she was the center of attention.

At this point, the sophomore emcee grabs the mana-filled megaphone and makes a comment.

"Yes, it's time for the next talent show, and the one everyone's been waiting for, the Super Rookie of Class 20, Ms. Usher Bianca, please join us!"

Thunderous applause erupted.

Then, with all eyes on her, Bianca stepped forward.

Her complexion was calm, as if she had just received a rooftop confession.

However, her breathing was slightly uneven, as if she had rushed down from the rooftop.

She then bowed her head in front of the seniors.

"I, a junior who is lacking in many ways, dare to raise a drink to you seniors."

Bianca nonchalantly picked up the bottle and popped the cap.

And then.

Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!

She grabbed the bottle and gave it a quick shake, sending the liquor flying through the narrow neck.

In the space of a single sip, it flew a long way, over the heads of the people in front of her, and landed precisely in the glasses on the table behind her.

Clink, clink, clink, clink!

The seniors let out a collective exclamation of admiration at this strange trick of throwing liquor from several meters away and filling the glasses.

Bianca kept the mood high for a short but intense moment, then bowed her head.

Then she turned back to the crowd and thought to herself.

"Whoever this is, they're going to have a hard time with the next one.'

Bianca's stunt, while entertaining, didn't really deserve the cheers it received.

The outpouring of support was probably due to her background, abilities, and appearance.

So unless a newcomer comes along and does something amazing to match Bianca's background, abilities, and appearance, it's going to be hard to keep the momentum going.

In other words, having set the tone, the next newcomer is going to be under a lot of pressure.

'Well, it's none of my business.'

Bianca returned to her seat, deciding that there was no reason to be considerate of the motives of those behind her.

And then, in a cruel twist of nature. The host called for the next act in the talent show.

"Okay, we've got our highly anticipated super-rookie, Ms. Bianca, and we've seen her pouring skills! What are we going to do about this heated atmosphere? We need our next performer before it cools down!"

The host immediately called out the next name.

"Next! New student from class 20! Mr. Piggy, the cutest little guy!"

Piggy's name was called.

Then Piggy, who was handing out nametags at the back of the crowd, stiffened.

"Uh, uh, uh, I thought you said you'd let me out of the talent show if I volunteered to hand out these name tags...?"

As Piggy turned his head in embarrassment, the sophomores who had been handing out name tags to Piggy giggled and turned their heads away.

Turning away.

Piggy looked up in disbelief.

The host continues to gesture toward Piggy, who remains oblivious.

"What are you going to do about this atmosphere, we can't let it cool down like this, hurry up!"

Piggy felt his head go blank.

His vision goes white and his hands and feet shake.

A cold sweat broke out at the crown of his head as he felt all eyes on him.

"Piggy? Piggy, what are you doing? Come on out!"

The host kept calling for Piggy.

Then, one by one, the seniors who were applauding also shook their heads, their smiles disappearing.

"Aah....

Piggy despaired.

His timid and introverted personality made it difficult for him to talk to others eye-to-eye, and he couldn't imagine performing in front of such a large crowd.

Piggy's hobbies and interests include reading, listening to music, drawing, and having pets.

These are not the kinds of things that will help you get up in front of a crowd.

It would have been one thing if I'd been prepared from the start, but the fact that I was caught off guard by the promise of exclusion made it all the more confusing.

'Uh, what do I do? What do I do....'

I'm breaking out in a cold sweat and my legs are shaking. I want to run away right now, but my legs are stiff and I can't get off.

"...."

The room was getting quieter and quieter.

Even the hosts who were making comments looked awkward and stiff.

The seniors around me also looked confused.

Just then.

...Jaw!

A hand gripped Piggy's shoulder.

"We'll do the talent show together, we're roommates."

A low, gravelly voice from behind.

A boy with bushy bangs and thick horn-rimmed glasses covering his face stepped forward.

It was Vikir.

"Oooh, who's who, Vikir from class 20? Alas, you were late for roll call earlier!"

The host broke the awkward silence and greeted Vikir with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I usually don't do that, but I'll make a special exception this time! You're roommates, and you're going to have to live with Miu and Kouga for a year, so why don't you be nice and show us your talent!"

Many eyes now turned to Piggy and Vikir.

"Vikir...."

Piggy looks up at Vikir with a questioning gaze.

Vikir simply blurted out in a nonchalant tone.

"I'll sing."

"...?"

"You shall dance."

Then Piggy threw another tantrum.

"Me, are you serious? Well, of course I'm tone-deaf, but... ... ."

"It's okay. Anyone can do it."

Vikir shook his fist at Piggy, first from top to bottom, then from bottom to top.

It was a simple dance, really, requiring only that he repeat the motion and stomp his right foot each time his fist came down.

"Uh, uh, uh... can you make this work?"

"That's enough. Just make it hard, and make sure you bow."

Vikir grabbed Piggy by the shoulders and led him to the center of the crowd.

Then, as everyone watched, Vikir's song and Piggy's dance began.

...?

The gazes of the hosts and seniors became slightly subtle.

Surprised, yes, but not with admiration....

"What is this?

They all looked confused, unable to grasp the situation.

He was right, the song Vikir was singing was a completely different kind of song from what the newcomers had been singing.

"High mountains, deep valleys, deserted mountains, snowy fronts, here we come."

A military song.

The kind of songs they used to sing on the front lines.

Vikir didn't have any particular talent to get the crowd going.

He'd spent his entire life wandering the battlefields of the Nine Rivers without the luxury of hearing a single popular song.

...But only one thing.

He knew one song that could move anyone, that could make anyone shudder, that anyone could relate to.

In those days, when the bodies piled up into mountains and the blood flowed into rivers.

'The Age of Destruction.'

A song that could be sung by anyone who had ever held a sword and fought a demon.

It was a war song that was shared and enjoyed by all.

"The spot where a young soul died. The wounded old pine forgot his words."

A monotonous shaking of fists and stomping of feet.

But the thrill, the emotion, the heart and soul of those days when thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of millions of people rolled and cried and sang together.

Vikir scanned the faces of his seniors and classmates gathered in the academy.

Brothers who had died in long wars, old comrades who had stood shoulder to shoulder guarding the borders, brothers who had shed tears of blood for him, even to the point of being falsely accused and executed, still sat there, green and young and frail.

Vikir looked at them and swallowed back the bitterness and longing.

"Do you hear, comrade, that angry voice?"

A hound from an age of destruction, understood by none.

Can you see it, comrade, the tearful eyes.

And with that, Vikir finished the last verse of the song.

When he was finished, Vikir gave a respectful salute.

He turned around, gave a quick bow, and disappeared into the crowd.

....

There was a strange feeling in the air that was hard to describe.

The excitement was definitely dampened, but not in a bad way.

One way or another, Vikir's song had left a mark on everyone's hearts.

"What, what's with this creeping vibe?"

"Are you an old man? What are you doing all of a sudden?"

"What's with this atmosphere~"

Most of the people complaining about the dampened excitement were younger students.

However.

The atmosphere in the hall slowly began to change.

"...oh."

The old professors sitting in the front row suddenly burst into tears.