The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 247: Survival Contest (5)

Chapter 247: Survival Contest (5)

Aureolus Hohenheim. Who is he?

When it comes to the study of magic, it is not inferior to the Morg family, known as the head of the magic family, when it comes to astrology, it is not inferior to the emperor of the empire, and when it comes to alchemy, Aureolus, who prides himself on being the best in the empire, is not inferior to the empire's emperor. He is the eldest son of Aureolus family.

He has attended all of Mgic Tower's prestigious higher education programs with distinction, and is now the student council president of his junior year, with an early graduation on the horizon, and a solid path to graduate school, and then to a professorship at Magic Tower.

In addition to the title of the youngest professor, there is even talk that he will become the next tower master of Magic Tower.

...Such an unattainable, ultra-elite genius began to moan so miserably and desperately that no one could open their ears and listen.

Poooooong...

It didn't say it was a blowjob.

Soon, the moans that made one break out in a cold sweat just listening to it were followed by screams.

pisisig-plop! Pussssss... pow!

This time, it didn't come from his mouth.

"Kerr, kerrrrrrrrrrrr!"

Hohenheim clutched his stomach and began to stumble backwards.

His whole body twisted. His body began to curl like a shrimp thrown onto a hot plate of salt.

A damp, cold sensation, already drenched in sweat.

The internal organs in my stomach were fluttering and running wild so that I couldn't control them even with magic.

'I, I need to use Cure Magic....'

However, Cure Magic is a high circle magic that cannot be cast in such a chaotic situation.

Besides, he had been fighting too many battles with Bakiraga, so it was hard to manage his mana properly.

"...Poison. Poison?"

Hohenheim turned his head in disbelief.

A red stew was dripping from the coconut shell on the floor.

'Boo, I've checked the ingredients, and there's nothing poisonous in there. But why?'

Suddenly, something flashed through his mind.

'A combination!'

His genius brain quickly realized the situation.

It exists sometimes.

Things that are harmless to humans when eaten separately, but turn deadly when mixed.

For example, honey and black tea, or eel and peach.

Other food combinations that are bad for the body (and usually induce excretion) include beer and peanuts, crab and red yeast, spinach and tofu, carrots and cucumbers, cheese and beans, and nori and salt.

Hohenheim desperately scanned the contents of the red stew.

In general, it was all okay, but why were these things included? There were also things I wanted to do.

Soon enough, Hohenheim singled out two ingredients that were extremely suspicious.

'Chacachaca catfish, a man-eating fish native to the Red and Black Mountains, and the bark of a sabac tree...?'

One by one, they are harmless enough, but together they cause a violent stomach ache.

'Who the hell knows how to mix these things? What kind of son of a bitch....'

Hohenheim's bloodshot eyes dart around the area, and then his eyes catch sight of a familiar face.

"...?"

There was a guy making a stupid expression beyond the bushes.

It's just a kid from another school, a first-grader who doesn't look like much, but Hohenheim's genius memory recognizes him.

Grenouille Des Leviathans. The heir to a family of extreme poisoners.

Although he is quite talented in his own way, he is still young and is a childish person who just wanders around laughing here and there.

...Yuck!

Hohenheim is convinced that it must be Grenouille who's been messing with the stew.

Who else could have created such a poisonous stew?

Grenouille, meanwhile, is in a daze.

"Why, why are you looking at me like you're going to kill me? What did I do...."

Then.

Tuck.

A hand gripped Grenouille's shoulder.

It was Vikir.

"Congratulations, boss. Thanks to your poison, I'm catching Magic tower's third-year ace."

"Uh, huh? Me? My poison?"

"Yes. You and your poison."

Grenouille can only shake his head, not quite understanding.

Unaware that behind him, Hohenheim's gaze is growing ever more ferocious.

...Whatever.

Thud!

Hohenheim falls to the ground in an odd position, clutching his stomach.

Plop-plop-plop-plop.

Vomit and diarrhea. Fierce wailing from top to bottom.

"...."

Hohenheim trembles with his face buried in the ground.

...10 ...9 ...8 ...7 ...6 ...5 ...4 ...3 ...2

His HP was gradually dropping towards zero.

And in front of him stood Bakiraga of the Varangian with a bewildered look on his face.

"Hey ..., are you okay?"

"...."

"...okay. i get it."

Bakiraga raised his hand, hesitated, and then moved it carefully again.

Thud.

Bakiraga laid a hand on Hohenheim's fallen shoulder.

Blow it and it will go away, squeeze it and it will break, a very careful and deliberate encouragement.

But in spite of Bakiraga's care.

...1

Hohenheim's HP had just been knocked down by 1 with that blow(?).

"Meh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that...."

"...."

"...Yes. I see."

Bakiraga hastily dropped his hand from Hohenheim's shoulder, and at the same time a drop of dew fell from Hohenheim's eye.

As if they were longtime enemies, Bakiraga understood Hohenheim's feelings.

No, it was something every human being could understand and empathize with.

We've all pooped our pants at some point in our childhood.

"...tch."

Bakiraga scratched his head and turned away, disappearing behind the bushes.

He didn't know that the final duel he was looking forward to during his school days with his rival would end in vain like this, so he looked quite absurd and lonely.

...And.

A rustle!

A figure emerged from the bushes and stood in front of Hohenheim.

"...You!"

Hohenheim's eyes lit up with life.

Vikir's face was expressionless. Vikir stared at Hohenheim, who collapsed in front of him, holding his stomach.

Hohenheim's eyes drooped and he smirked.

What's there to be afraid of when everything has already shown its ugly face?

"Yes. In the end, the luck of catching me belongs to some unheard-of first year from the Colosseo."

"...."

"Bastard. Yeah, well, when will you ever have the chance in your lowly life to take on a genius like me. Here, take my neck! Take my neck, and try to break the Hohenheim of Magic Tower with the weapons and special moves you are most confident in!"

Even in his final moments, he held on to his lofty pride, and embraced death with arrogance.

"Swords, axes, bows, any weapon you wish. You may break my body, but you will never break my pride and my heart."

HP 1.

Only a handful of lives left.

Hohenheim glared at Vikir, his eyes narrowed in determination.

... but.

Vikir drew no weapon.

Just empty-handed. That was all he had.

"?"

Hohenheim's brow furrowed slightly.

The instincts of genius, those keen senses, warned him frantically.

Some terrible weapon is being pointed at him.

But as he looked around, he saw no sword, no spear, no arrow, no magic.

'What is it? This unexplained anxiety is....'

A cold sweat breaks out, drenching my lower back. My eyeballs were spinning.

For the first time in his life, Hohenheim was feeling a vague sense of anxiety and fear at the same time.

And at the sight of a mysterious new student from another school!

"...."

And then. A small change occurred in Vikir's expressionless face.

His lips twitched, and his tongue moved for a moment.

And then the moment.

The coldest, sharpest word in the world stabbed Hohenheim right through the heart.

"You shit."

Violence. And the most heinous violence of all.

It was verbal violence, but it was also factual violence.

It was Hohenheim's pride, heart, and soul that could not be broken by sword, axe, spear, bow, magic, or any other weapon.

It ticks! It is being cut away with sound.

...0

Due to the extreme stress and anger, Hohenheim's mental... No, HP has been depleted by 1 again.

That was the end of it.

* * *

The end of Hohenheim, the ace of the Magic Tower.

It made everyone who was fighting for survival in the jungle of the Red and Black Mountains anxious.

Dolores stared at Vikir, who had just killed Hohenheim with a single word.

"I... Vikir."

"Yeah."

"By any chance, was the spicy catfish soup I ate the same as the one Hohenheim ate?"

"Yes."

At Vikir's words, Dolores felt the back of her neck break out in a cold sweat.

"You were going to send me to ... like that?"

"Yes."

Vikir nodded again, this time in agreement.

Competitors, even if they were from the same school, they were still enemies to be fought over rankings.

Innocent Dolores's face went white.

But the reason she was freaking out wasn't because she was being eliminated from the competition or because she felt betrayed by her junior.

The original reason. That's it.

"Oh, no, you can't do that, please, please, please!

I've already caused a similar(?) kind of trouble to Vikir.

If it was a small thing before, would it be a big thing now?

'I'd rather kill myself!'

Dolores lurches backwards, covering her back with one hand and her front with the other.

Vikir thought it was as if he was seeing her before the regression, in the days of the Age of Destruction, when she was waging a desperate fight against countless demons during the age of destruction.

So he decided to make a quick correction.

Vikir pulled out a handful of dried mushrooms from his pocket and said.

"If you steam this and eat it together, you can neutralize the poison created by mixing the flesh of the Chacachaca catfish and the outer bark of the Sabac tree."

"...!"

Dolores gulped as she remembered Vikir tossing a few mushrooms on top of the bowl when he handed her the stew.

"Well, what about what you said just now?"

"Just kidding."

"...."

Considering that Dolores' HP had evaporated by about 10% from what had just happened, it was possible to get some idea of ??how serious her mental damage was.