The reactions of those around him to Vikir's victory over Bolason were quite mixed.
"Oh, that's a shame. They were so close."
"But he had a blank expression and Bolason whined a lot, so didn't he actually lose?"
"Maybe he was just better at managing his facial expressions."
"I think they were about equal in strength, so neither of their hands moved off the center."
"Maybe he has lost his strength now, I should give him a try."
However, some people saw this situation clearly.
Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, Bianca, and Sinclair, for example, knew of Vikir's power.
"Vikir has been very generous."
"That's how you win."
"But do you think even Vikir can beat all those people?"
"When I think about Vikir's archery skills, I think he has really strong arms. But even then, facing that many challengers is too unreasonable."
"I'm worried about my brother… … He has really provoked the fighting spirit of the Varangian Boot Camp boys."
Meanwhile.
With all eyes on them, Vikir was reminiscing about the past.
'It's like the old times.'
Vikir was reminiscing about his time in the military before his Regression.
When the Age of Destruction first started, the Humanity Alliance Army Internal Affairs division had attracted all kinds of people.
Many among them were rough mercenaries from the north, most of whom were masters in arm wrestling.
Arm wrestling tournaments were a daily occurrence in the Internal Affairs division.
Vikir had seen many skinny and lightweight men took down men who were much more muscular and heavier than them.
Sometimes, comrades weighing less than 50 kilograms would go toe-to-toe with famous strongmen in their squad or platoon.
'In arm wrestling, strength is important, but technique is more important.'
Or, more precisely, the skill of focusing strength only where it's needed.
Of course, Vikir's pure strength was also very strong, and he was able to overwhelm the Varangian Boot Camp students without using mana.
… Clatter!
In front of him, another muscular hulk grunted and twisted.
Vikir hadn't even moved, his arm still pinned to his center.
'He's got a weak lower body, he'll never be able to use the full strength of his arms.'
Even though Vikir could turn over, he kept his arm in place and didn't move.
The big man squirmed as he held onto Vikir's arm, and eventually gave up.
This time, just before the draw. It was the same scene as with Bolason.
"What the hell, man, why do you keep pulling out in tense situations?"
"The power was the same! His arm was stuck in the center!"
"These matches keep ending in nothing."
"Yeah, that's what happened with Bolason, but it wasn't fun."
These were the initial reactions of the students from Varangian Boot Camp.
But.
"... forfeit."
"Aaahhhh, he won't budge at all, what is this power?"
"Geez, I'm forfeiting, let go of my hand!"
"...I, too, forefeit."
All eyes were fixed on Vikir as one after another strong men challenged him.
"...Is that guy the real deal?"
"Are you forfeiting to him on purpose?"
"That's ridiculous, how can he hold on like that, right in the center, without being pushed or pulled?"
"It doesn't make sense, get out of the way, let me try!"
But when they tried their hand at it, all of them were unable to push Vikir's arm back even a millimeter, and had to call it off.
When the number of forfeits exceeded thirty, a strange feeling began to rise in the room.
"All the first years were annihilated!"
"What kind of power is that? How is that possible at his weight class?"
"The sophomores are out too!"
"It's like pushing a boulder, I can't even move!"
"Oh my God, even the third year seniors lost."
A clash of strength and power. But Vikir remained expressionless, taking them all in.
A mountain they couldn't overcome, no matter how hard they tried, no matter how fast they ran. That was Vikir.
Vikir even tightened his grip and wouldn't let go even if they wanted to, which is why the number of Varangians who struggled with all their might and then gave up in frustration was growing.
"...oh my god."
Dolores' mouth was half open as she watched.
It was an unbelievable sight to behold.
To be able to fight on equal footing with the warriors of Varangian Boot Camp without using any mana, and to be able to overpower them.
As the student council president, she couldn't help but chuckle as she watched the Varangian Boot Camp students, who she had secretly thought of as musclebrains, get beaten one after another.
"Euheum. Euheum!"
Dolores cleared her throat, covering her mouth, and glanced to the side.
Sure enough, there stood a stern-faced Bakiraga.
However, it was not humiliation that shone in Bakiraga's eyes, but curiosity.
And then.
The massive grizzly bear stepped forward, shooing away the tiny puppies.
"Hey, freshman."
Bakiraga stood in front of Vikir.
"You look like you've got a lot of energy. Do you want to have a fight with me?"
At his words, the mood in the room shifted drastically.
Every student from the Colosseo Academy and Varangian Boot Camp swallowed hard and turned to look at Vikir.
Even Dolores, the student council president.
... but.
"Line."
Vikir's reply was short.
?
A question mark appeared in Bakiraga's head, and in the heads of all the spectators.
After a few seconds of silence, Bakiraga realized the meaning of Vikir's words.
".... You want me to get in line?"
He nodded.
When Vikir nodded, Bakiraga stood for a moment with a dazed look on his face, then scratched the back of his head and said.
"Yeah. I'll get to the back of the line."
Bakiraga turned on his heel and walked to the back of the line of Varangian Boot Camp students who were standing in front of Vikir.
Everyone watching had to swallow hard.
The pinnacle of the Varangian Boot Camp, Bakiraga, was told to stand in line.
How confident does one have to be to say something like that?!
There were still a half-dozen Varangian Boot Camp students lined up in front of Vikir, but they all backed away when Bakiraga got to the back of the line.
Bakiraga chuckled and sat down in front of Vikir.
"Our school is a bit militant, like a giant mercenary army. There was a strict hierarchy, and a lot of people abused their power. People below a certain grade are almost treated like servants."
"...."
"But since I became student council president, we've gotten rid of the power abusers and their bad practices, but the hierarchy is still strict."
So when Bakiraga stepped forward, the other students fell back in unison.
Like wolves following their alpha.
And the trust the Varangian Boot Camp students had in their student council president was overwhelming.
"Can you imagine that person losing?"
"He's a monster, he's already beaten the 3rd graders as a freshman."
"Our president will win no matter what!"
"Go! Juragio! Bakiraga! Go!"
Riding high on the cheers, Bakiraga smirked.
"Do you really think you can face me when you have taken on so many Varangian warriors before me? Do you really have that much strength left?"
"...."
Vikir did not answer. He merely rested his arms wordlessly on the stone table.
Bakiraga was still smiling. Bakiraga's smile faded a bit as he took Vikir's hand.
Tsk.
He could already feel Vikir's strength and weight.
"...!"
Sensing that Vikir's strength had gone far beyond the level of just 'pushing', Bakiraga gripped the table with his other hand.
It was the first time since he'd entered Varangian Boot Camp that he'd been surprised by another's strength.
And then.
Poof! Kukugukuk...
The arm wrestling began.
Oh-oh-oh-oh!
Cheers from all around. Everyone from Colosseo Academy and Varangian Boot Camp cheered in unison.
Bakiraga and Vikir's arms were locked together in the center of the table.
Only, Bakiraga is not giddy like the other Varangian Boot Camp students.
Vikir's arms were twitching in a different way.
Their arms just swayed slightly in the center of the table. At first glance, it looked like they weren't exerting any pressure on each other.
But in reality, between their grasping hands, great power and strength, grip and grip were fiercely clashing and mixing together.
A trickle of cold sweat ran down Bakiraga's cheeks.
'... This bastard, he's strong.'
And Vikir was still glaring at Bakiraga.
'At least it's not at the student level.'
Vikir had a high opinion of Bakiraga, too.
In terms of pure strength, Bakiraga's side was superior.
But Vikir had technique.
The angle of his arms and shoulders forced his opponent to use his arm strength and not his shoulder strength. The shape of his grip maximized the strength of his forearms, and the strategic placement of his fingers maximized the weight transfer through his triceps and shoulders.
Furthermore, the protection of the Styx River and the karma he had accumulated from slaying countless demons had made Vikir's muscles even harder and sturdier.
Vikir's delicate wrists hold up without even flinching despite Bakiraga's enormous strength and weight.
Seeing this, Bakiraga smirked in admiration.
"You seem like a veteran who has seen it all. Calm and perceptive like my father. Who are you really?"
But… the smile vanished from Bakiraga's face at Vikir's next words.
…Tick!
Vikir unbuttoned his collar.
He showed off the choker around his neck and spoke in a low voice.
"Hunting grounds."
Bakiraga's eyes widened to the point of tears at Vikir's words.
At that moment.
…Boom!
The table where Vikir and Bakiraga's elbows touched cracked with a loud crack.
The heavy table that was made of thick stone was not a match for their strength and shattered into pieces.
Looking at the shattered stone table, the innkeeper muttered to himself.
"My God... this table was carved out of the rock that was originally on this spot when the inn was built."
A rock that had been there since the beginning of time, and it had been smashed to pieces by two boys.
"...."
No one could speak in front of this amazing sight.
Then.
"Hahahaha-"
A cool laugh burst out.
It was Bakiraga, He was covered in stone dust and was looking this way, loosening his stiff grip.
His gaze was fixed on Vikir's neck.
Then his mouth opened.
"אתה גאוות היער. אל תשכח את זה"
Words that were too fast to understand, words that were not even a language in the first place.
But Vikir understood it.
"You are the pride of Depth. Do not forget your roots.'
It was Balak's language.
Vikir remembered the information Sinclair had told him about Bakiraga.
'Did you say his grandparents were from the Depth?'
The choker Aiyen had filled Vikir with was a mark of the hunting grounds, something only the best hunters in the tribe could have.
Vikir remembered Juragio Bakiraga, one of the great heroes of the Human Alliance before his regression.
'He said that he had been discriminated against since the first grade because of his barbarian blood. Did he feel a sense of kinship with me?'
It made sense why Bakiraga had fought with the fourth graders in freshman year.
And then. Bakiraga patted Vikir on the shoulder with a smirk on his face.
"That was a lot of strength, rookie! It's getting late, so we'll have to save our best power for tomorrow's tournament! Hahaha-"
He leaned his head toward Vikir and spoke in a low whisper.
"I can't even ask for a rematch, with your girlfriend over there glaring at me with her angry eyes."
At that, Vikir turned his head with a puzzled expression.
There, Dolores stood, glaring at Bakiraga.
'What on earth did you see that made you furious?'
Locking eyes with Dolores, Vikir shook his head.
"...?"
While Dolores was still trying to figure out what they were talking about, Bakiraga turned around with a smile on his face.
"That was a good fight, Colosseo! This first year's strength contest was our defeat, but we will not lose easily in tomorrow's tournament, for strength is not the only thing that makes a warrior!"
Bakariga called out as he walked towards his quarters, the Varangian Boot Camp students following him like a pack of wolves following their alpha.
Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, and the others stood in awe at the scene.
"Wow, so this is a battle between men."
"There's something about Bakiraga, too. He's a fine man."
"This is exciting! I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's match!"
And.
Bianca spoke up, a little distant from all the enthusiasm.
"They're all gone."
The students from the Colosseo Academy turned their heads in surprise.
The food on the buffet tables had all but disappeared.