Chapter 113

Chapter 113

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 113: Grand Banquet (4)

“...?”

Vikir’s mouth slightly hung open in amazement. It was because Hugo, the host of the family and the one organizing the grand banquet, was watching his younger siblings’ argument with a smug expression.

Boston Terrier and Great Dane continued their quarrel. Both Counts were known for their fierceness, which had a disposition to show their teeth rather than bark, but it seemed they were restraining themselves somewhat in Hugo’s presence.

Vikir observed Hugo’s expression carefully. ‘...Why is he smiling like that? Ah, could it be?’

And soon, Vikir came to a conclusion. In Baskerville, fierce disputes occurred daily. Among the heads of the family and the seven Counts, numerous factions existed, including independent ones. They engaged in battles of intrigue, assassination, duels, acquisitions, and mergers.

Therefore, it was the family head’s duty to control and monitor their half-siblings and the factions beneath the seven Counts.

Ironically, the closest siblings were the most formidable adversaries within Baskerville.

So, Hugo, the pinnacle of the Baskerville family, wouldn’t be overly concerned about such power struggles among the Counts. He might even encourage and incite them.

‘As cunning as ever,’ Vikir thought, his tongue clicking in amusement.

While Vikir was deep in thought, Hugo suddenly turned his gaze towards him. When Vikir lowered his eyes back to his plate, Hugo spoke in a subdued voice.

“It’s pleasing to see my son being acknowledged.”

?

What kind of statement was this? Vikir couldn’t help but be bewildered. Hugo’s face still displayed a faint smile, quite out of place.

Vikir remained silent, looking puzzled. Beside him, the butler Barrymore approached and whispered in his ear.

“All seven Counts expressed their desire to attend the grand banquet, but it’s all to see you, my lord. The other five couldn’t make it due to their distant locations.”

“...Is that so?”

“The younger siblings, usually proud and aloof, are now showing signs of unease. It seems even the family head is pleased with this situation. Ah, one never knows whose offspring you are.”

Vikir turned his head again. ‘So, that smug smile wasn’t about enjoying their infighting, but rather about being pleased with his son’s acknowledgment?’

‘Impossible.’

Vikir shook his head. There’s no way the bloodless and unfeeling Hugo could be pleased about something like that.

He pushed aside these pointless thoughts and decided to focus on his meal. Eventually, the meal progressed to the main courses, and a lavish feast was set before them.

‘At least it’s not Haggis this time,’ Vikir thought, feeling a bit relieved that he didn’t have to eat the tasteless and filling Haggis anymore.

Meanwhile,

“Our Sweet Count Great Dane seems to want to eat the dishes raw again. His true nature can’t be hidden.”

“He’s already on how many glasses of wine? Seems quite drunk. He should go to bed soon.”

Boston Terrier and Great Dane were still arguing. Eventually, they realized that growling at each other would only lead to losses.

“Yes, if I had a son like that, I wouldn’t wish for anything more.”

“Ahem. Enough of that. Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Hugo rubbed his mustache and turned his face. Barrymore, the head butler, watched this with a satisfied expression.

“But, how do you plan to prove your skills?” Boston Terrier asked. Great Dane also looked at Vikir with a curious expression.

Vikir didn’t respond immediately. He simply raised his hand and placed it quietly on the table.

“...”

A brief silence fell. Eventually, Vikir, who had maintained his silence, spoke.

“Dane Uncle’s steak seems slightly undercooked.”

At the same time, Vikir turned his head and looked at Boston Terrier.

“Terrier Uncle’s wine glass seems to be filled a bit too much.”

Upon hearing Vikir’s comment, Boston Terrier and Great Dane looked at each other’s steaks and wine glasses. Then, something astonishing happened.

Ts-ts-ts-ts-ts...

Vikir’s hand trembled slightly, and the tableware on the table shook ever so slightly. Boston Terrier and Great Dane immediately withdrew their hands from the table. Mana emitted from Vikir’s body flowed onto the table.

And then, a strange phenomenon unfolded before the eyes of the two Counts.

Chiiiiiiik...

Great Dane’s steak started sizzling, making sounds as if it were cooking. Although there was no change in the objects around, one side of the steak, in particular, was being cooked by intense heat. The juices evaporated, and steam rose. What was once a perfectly browned rare steak had transformed into a well-done steak.

“Ugh...”

Great Dane picked up his fork. Even though the fork was right next to the steak plate, it was not hot at all. When he pierced the meat, it had a firm texture, and a faint smell of grilling wafted through the air.

Meanwhile, Boston Terrier burst into laughter.

“Hahaha!”

He was also looking at his wine glass. Bubbles were forming in the silverware, and the grape wine inside began to boil, turning a deep purple color. In the blink of an eye, it transformed into sweet-smelling steam, spreading throughout the dining area. The boiling wine ceased precisely when half of it had evaporated.

With just the touch of his palm on the table, Vikir had cooked the meat and boiled the wine. Manipulating mana into objects, controlling the exact points of release, and determining the strength and density of the aura at those points—a state of mastery.

What would happen if this concept was applied to swordsmanship? Injecting mana into a blade and creating precisely controlled auras with the desired intensity and sharpness.

This level of mastery was known in the world as a “Graduator,” a stage beyond Swordexpert. It was the most mature stage that a swordsman, even one ranked among the Empire’s elite warriors, could hope to achieve.

Vikir had reached the level of a Mid-Tier Graduator, a realm that even the geniuses of Baskerville could only aspire to reach at around the age of thirty-five.

Mid tier Graduator at the age of seventeen, the youngest in history. This achievement would obliterate all official records held by baskerville to date.

[TL/N: Vikir is actually a Peak graduator as we saw on chapter 102, He’s hiding his strength]

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]