Chapter 71

Chapter 71

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Episode 71: Flesh and Blood (4)

“Why is this guy on the portrait...?”

Is this what he blurted out?

Vikir had an astonished expression as he gazed intently at the portrait for a while.

But no matter how closely he examined the details, the person in the photograph was undoubtedly Hugo.

Black hair, sharp eyes, a nose like a blade, a strong jaw, and a yet-to-be-grown mustache. Who wouldn’t recognize this face?

What could it be? Why is Hugo’s portrait here?

While Vikir was perplexed, Pomeranian approached discreetly and grabbed the pendant chain.

With a bit of effort, she tugged at it, as if indicating she wanted it back.

Vikir handed the pendant back to Pomeranian and asked, “Who are the people in the painting? What’s your connection with them?”

Pomeranian seemed startled by Vikir’s stern tone as if he was interrogating a criminal.

Vikir softened his tone slightly and asked, “Who are the people in the painting? What’s your connection with them?”

Though the wording differed, the tone remained the same.eranian trembled anxiously under the firm tone.

Then, Aiyen stepped forward.

“If you ask like that, the kid won’t be able to answer”

“...? What did I do?”

“You should ask with a smile.”

Vikir hesitated for a moment at Aiyen’s suggestion.

Finally, he managed to form a gentle smile at the corners of his lips.

“Who are the people in the painting?”

Pomeranian lifted her head with a less frightened expression than before.

“Indeed, it seems to be effective. Your words are correct—”

Vikir turned his head toward Aiyen.

In an instant...

“...?”

Aiyen’s blank expression entered Vikir’s eyes.

She looked at Vikir’s face, then after a brief moment, she seemed to regain her senses and said, “Slave. I didn’t know you can smile like that?”

“....”

Vikir furrowed his brow.

Well, he hadn’t smiled openly like that ever since he was born, so it was understandable to be mocked.

Then Pomeranian answered.

“Mother. Grandfather. Grandmother.”

Vikir’s mouth closed briefly upon hearing those words.

His mind spun quickly.

Decades have passed since the pendant and the faded portrait were made visible. Hugo le Baskeville, an unidentified young woman, and a little girl. Pomeranian’s mother, grandmother, and grandfather as she said.

“Could it be?”

Vikir deduced something.

The young Hugo in the pendant. The young woman beside him was probably his wife.

And the daughter born between them, their firstborn.

If that firstborn daughter was kidnapped by the Rokoko tribe and the child born here ended up as Pomeranian...

“Come to think of it, I heard that Hugo’s personality wasn’t always as cold as it is now.”

[Proofreader – Lucky]

After contemplating something for a while, Pomeranian released her grip on the pillar.

Then, she took a step towards Vikir.

Black hair, red eyes.

Pomeranian closely resembled Vikir.

Looking at Vikir, Pomeranian said, “Mother. Hair. Eyes. Color. They’re the same.”

“Yes. The Baskervilles all look quite alike.”

Vikir embraced Pomeranian.

It was the first meeting between uncle and niece.

Afterwards, Pomeranian came to Ballak’s village.

“Uncle, where are you going?”

She clung tightly to Vikir’s leg and didn’t seem willing to let go, but for Vikir, who had grown accustomed to a solitary life, this was quite a challenge.

“Hyung, there’s a meeting you need to attend. The chief is calling for you.”

“Aaang. Uncle, let’s go together.”

Pomeranian seemed afraid to be alone. Leaving her mother’s tomb, she must have realized that she was truly on her own now. She seemed to rely even more on Vikir, who looked just like her mother in terms of hair and eye color.

“...There’s no other choice.”

Vikir hugged Pomeranian tightly and carried her on his back. As he looked around for something suitable to use as a carrier, he spotted a thick and tough ox bear fur. He had received this rare and expensive fur from the chief as a reward for a successful mission. Now, it served as a makeshift carrier.

Vikir carried Pomeranian on his back and headed outside.

“...I should ask Chiwawa for a favor later.”

He couldn’t raise this girl in Ballak’s village. Even if he didn’t send her to Hugo, she should be raised somewhere beyond his reach, at least where the Empire’s civilization reached.

Vikir planned to temporarily leave the village and go to the city.

“It wouldn’t hurt to stop by Morg’s too.”

It was necessary to gather intelligence about the ongoing alliance with the Baskervilles.

While Vikir was lost in various thoughts, he soon arrived at Chief Aquilla’s barracks.

Inside, Chief Aquilla, Aiyen, and other elders were present, all with serious expressions.

On this day, both Aiyen and Vikir attended the meeting as witnesses.

Chief Aquilla asked, “So, there are rumors of an epidemic spreading?”

Aiyen and Vikir nodded in agreement.

Details were provided about how the Rokoko tribe had met its end, the current state of the remaining village, and more. Other hunting parties also testified to seeing the bodies of Orcs, Lizardmen, and other indigenous beings with red spots on them.

Chief Aquilla’s expression grew graver.

“It’s going to be a big problem with winter coming soon.”

If an epidemic was indeed spreading, the damage would likely be even worse. They needed to find a way to prepare for it.

Then, someone spoke up.

“Chief, it’s not an epidemic, it’s a curse!”

Shaman Aheuman stepped forward. He claimed that the Red Death was not a disease but a kind of curse that could be resolved through rituals. Some of the older elders agreed with his assertion.

They argued that it was the perfect time for a grand ritual and clearly sought to bolster Aheuman’s authority and power through it. On the other hand, the younger generation argued that the Red Death was a disease and insisted that the village should be abandoned immediately.

The old and young clashed fiercely between superstition and practical solutions. It didn’t seem easy to determine who was right.

“Hmm, what should we do about this?”

As Chief Aquila looked troubled,

Someone silently raised their hand to speak, the one who first coined the term “Red Death.”

“I know how to stop this disease.”

It was Vikir.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]