A rare prodigy in Baskerville.
A young warrior who became a perfect Sword Expert beginner at the age of only eight.
"Is there anything bigger than an orc?"
Vikir's words caused the training center to heat up.
The members of House Baskerville are basically a cold people who don't care about other people, except for one thing: when it comes to battle, they're always interested.
That was true even for the cold-blooded Hugo.
"...hmm."
Hugo began to think.
Watching him, Vikir thought to himself.
"It's better to show power in moderation.
It wasn't that he hadn't thought about it.
If anything, it would be less alarming for Hugo to see his achievements at a very young age.
Showing promise at a young age would also give him an excuse to stay off Hugo's radar.
Such as being sent to the backcountry or studying in the Imperial capital.
'... Or, perhaps, admission to the Academy.
The third hand was an unwelcome one, so he put it on hold, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.
It was time to focus on the here and now.
Hugo, meanwhile, was done thinking.
"Bikir has a point. You're at the age where you need to get your hands dirty."
It wasn't the right thing to say to an eight-year-old, but it made sense, at least within Baskerville.
Hugo continued.
"It seems that the orcs from far away are not good enough for my son's castle. Are there higher beasts in your family's foraging grounds?"
You'd think they'd find a better bug in the bug bowl.
But in the Baskervilles' collection, every single one of them is an abomination.
They're no match for an eight-year-old.
Knowing this, no one, including Deacon Barrymore, speaks easily.
Hugo, unable to bear the silence, spoke first.
"Come to think of it, isn't there an object that you captured as an experiment when you were exterminating the barbarians?"
"Yes, .... There is only one left."
Deacon Barrymore answered matter-of-factly.
Hugo smirked.
"It must be weak from not being fed for so long."
"Ha, but they'll be just as fierce, I'm afraid, and not much of an opponent for one who's just turned eight years old...."
"Well, if he does, the Guardian Knights will stop him, and that's the least of the butler's worries."
Hugo waved his hand dismissively at Deacon Barrymore's concern.
His deliberation was brief, his decision even shorter.
Soon, the Guardian Knights were pulling Vikir's opponent from the depths of the cellar.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
The earth shook faintly.
Then, a gigantic creature began to emerge, wearing a variety of heavy cuffs and restraints.
It had a short neck, two arms and legs, grotesquely twisted teeth, weighed over 400 kilograms, and stood four meters tall.
Danger Rating: C Size: 4 meters Found in: Red and Black Mountains, Ridge 2 -A cannibal with a massive physique and a vicious mind. They are mostly responsible for the disappearance of Huazhen people who enter the mountains. Possessing inscrutable regenerative powers, they do not understand the concept of mortal wounds and never die unless their throats are completely severed. A green-skinned giant goblin. Sticky saliva oozes from its severed gums, torn lips, and protruding fangs. [Grrrrr-grrrrrr!] The troll rattled the chains and heavy lead weights around his neck, wrists, and ankles. It looked like it had been starving for a very long time. "...." Vikir squinted at the troll in front of him. Then, as soon as the troll stepped out into the center of the smoke screen. The hunt was on. The pot. Vikir lunged at it, short sword at the ready. Hugo and several of the older Baskervilles looked on in amazement as he showed no sign of fear. And then. Boom. The troll's arm flailed. Vikir ducked low, dodging the troll's fist and digging into the blind spot in his side. Time to deliver the killing blow! But. Wham! Vikir didn't actually stab the troll in the side. He simply walked past him and reset his stance. Hugo smirked. "Good call." Zagoro trolls are highly regenerative, able to heal from wounds to their flanks and stomachs. It's a waste of energy unless you're trying to hit them where it's going to hurt, which is why Vikir didn't bother trying to pick their holes. Thud, thud, thud, thud. The troll continued to attack Vikir. They pounded the ground with their fists and stomped their feet. Normally, an 8-year-old Baskerville would have been overwhelmed by the sight of these attacks, and would have made a series of mistakes, but... Vikir was different. "It's slow, so there's no tension. An old soldier who had spent the last forty years on the battlefield. There's no way he could lose his composure under this kind of pressure. It's harder to hold back a yawn. Vikir had been dodging the trolls' attacks with a relaxed demeanor. In fact, it was the trolls who were losing health with each rampage. The seasoned Baskervilles watched in amazement. "You're trying to drain the troll's strength? That's amazing." "Is he really eight years old? I can't believe it." "Heh, heh, heh, I never thought I'd see such an ahae in my family. Live long and see." Vikir's judgment is always spot-on, and he follows the best route. The troll grows increasingly unruly as he struggles with the heavy restraints. But he is rapidly losing his reserves of health. Its attacks became less accurate and its speed even slower. The patterns were becoming simpler and simpler. Vikir watched the troll's self-destructive demeanor, waiting for the one moment that would decide the game. And then. Grrrrr! The troll began to lunge at him, throwing his whole body at him. Viktor realized it was time to move out of the way and quickly jumped forward. The body of an eight-year-old child can dodge a troll's attacks, but it can't kill a troll. Not even a genius. That was common knowledge, and Vikir knew it well. If he unleashed his hidden powers, he might be able to kill a troll, but that would complicate matters greatly. So Vikir had been waiting for this moment to kill the troll, to make it as easy as possible. Quack, quack, quack! The troll lunges, and Vikir uses the momentum to his advantage. Vikir uses the momentum of the troll's heavy body to thrust his blade in from the opposite direction, cutting through the tough layers of leather and muscle and severing the nerve bundles in its neck. And then. …Whoosh! A faint gaseous aura emanates from the tip of Vikir's blade. It's the same one that wowed everyone in the orc battle earlier. Kiririk- Vikir's aura formed a distinctive tooth-like shape and flew straight for the troll's throat. Pow! One sharp fang sank deep into the troll's neck. In the next instant, Vikir twisted his body and slipped through the gap between the troll's sides, instantly blasting a gaping hole in the troll's neck. "Oooooh!" Everyone watching gasped in amazement. Bikir's seasoned battlefield experience was disguised as genius here. ... but. [Grrrrrrrr!] The troll was not dead. He jammed his fist into the hole in his neck and grunted as he tended to the wound. A faint sigh escaped from the onlookers. "Oh, no. I guess one baskerville isn't enough for a troll." "It's definitely a little harder with a gaseous aura." "It's a shame, but it's still a monumental feat for an eight-year-old to have gotten this far." Baskerville 1 meal. You can't catch a troll with one tooth. Vikir knew that already. True, with Beelzebub's ability to bleed, the troll would die a natural death in time, but... there was no point in winning that way. "That's enough. Any more could be dangerous, so let's stop here...." Hugo raised his hand to stop the fight. "Restraints." Vikir opened his mouth. "Release the restraints." At those words, the faces of all the Baskervilles stiffened. Unshackling a troll, at this point? "...." "...." "...." All eyes turned to Vikir and Hugo. "...." Even the mighty Hugo was dumbfounded. Then, slowly, his mouth opened. "My son, you have already proven your worth. It is the mark of a swordsman to walk away when he is satisfied." The tone was stern. All of the Baskervilles were surprised by Hugo's demeanor, something they had never seen before. But the surprise was short-lived, as Vikir's words drew everyone's attention back to him. "We're almost there, and if I don't kill you on the next strike, I'll end it cleanly." A declaration of war. Vikir's words startled all the Baskervilles, including Hugo. How on earth were they going to take down this troll whose tenacity was unmatched? "...." Hugo fell silent. The signal to resume the battle. [Caw! Caw! Caw!] The trolls rampaged. Several of the Guardian Knights stepped out of the way of the troll's rampage, removed the cuffs and chains, and led him back out into the open. Then. The troll, now completely free, pushed himself to his feet. His eyes, red and bloodshot, no longer even pupils. [He-ahhhhhh!] With a guttural roar, the troll lunged at Vikir with all its might. But Vikir could only stare coldly at the troll. "How far should I show my power? The question had already been answered earlier in the evening. …Pow! The tip of Vikir's short sword glows a little brighter than before. Some of the veterans recognized it immediately. The density of Vikir's aura had changed. But there was no time to wonder about it, as Vikir continued with his next move. Kiririk- Karak! The tip of the blade flashed towards the charging troll. Fangs clearly visible. The troll breaking free of its restraints, running even faster, and the force of the reaction even stronger. And then. …Poof! The troll is faster and stronger than before, and the tip of the blade is thrust back into his body, faster and stronger than before. And then. There were two teeth sinking into the troll's neck this time. The first tooth ripped a hole in the troll's neck. And a second tooth, smaller and fainter, but clearly visible, biting ferociously into the side of the troll's neck. Baskerville Two-Thirds. And Sword Expert Intermediate. ...! ...! ...! ...! ...! All the Baskervilles, including Hugo, stand in place with their mouths agape. …thud! The troll behemoth, decapitated, fell to his knees on the ground.