Chapter 42: Morg’s United Front (3)

Chapter 42: Morg’s United Front (3)

Vikir thought.

'?'

What kind of situation is this?

For the first time since his return, something unexpected had happened.

The three infamous young Baskervilles, who would come to be known as Hugo's Trident, had begun pretending to be friendly with Vikir.

The trio had even crossed the line of fire several times before Vikir regressed, and crucially, it was their fault that he was captured and executed at the last minute.

... But what about now?

The High, Middle, and Low Brothers stood in a circle around Vikir.

Whereas before they had surrounded him to harass him, now they were surrounding him to protect him.

"He's the poster boy for our line, you can't let him fight just anyone. He has to pull his weight."

"Protect."

"Protect."

Lowbro even turned his head and winked at Vikir.

Vikir was even more bewildered.

"I just got my finger chopped off, and this is what he's going to do?

But this wasn't the first time Vikir had encountered this behavior from the triplets.

"Certainly, they've been noticeably more civilized since the last time they hunted a troll in front of everyone.

Maybe even before that. Maybe since he'd killed a Cerberus in his first practical assessment at the age of eight?

I knew something was off when I walked up to Vikir while he was scarfing down a haggis and pretended to be friendly.

Vikir had spent his entire life avoiding the attention of his siblings.

They were too weak and young to be worthy of his attention.

But this indifference must have caused a mutation in the triplets' minds.

After all, it was in the Baskervilles' nature to follow the philosophy of the strongest.

What's more, they seemed to be under a strange illusion.

"Leave this place to us, Vikir. We'll repay you for recommending us to the Academy."

"Leave it to us, Vikir. We'll repay you."

"Leave it to us, Vikir. We'll make it up to you."

The triplets speak with determination.

Vikir suddenly remembered his conversation with Hugo not long ago.

He had mentioned the triplets without thinking when asked who he was close to, and it had apparently impressed them.

Vikir decided to keep his mouth shut.

"...."

It's always cute to see a kid who thinks he's doing something great.

(Plus, these triplets have a fucked-up personality, so that's one cute thing about them.)

Vikir thought for a moment.

"They could be useful.

These triplets will surely grow up to be very useful killing machines.

They might not have the brains to make their own decisions, but they certainly knew how to do what they were told.

They've been used for all sorts of sneaky and dirty jobs, so they've proven to be both skilled and loyal.

Hounds, literally. Fiercely obedient to their master's command.

And that was something Vikir knew all too well, having been bitten by their teeth.

Finally, Vikir gritted his teeth in defeat.

"I'll give you a chance, brothers."

The triplets' faces lit up.

They stood in front of Vikir, looking even more pleased than when they'd received Hugo's praise at the end-of-the-month review.

"Well, if they're going to go to all that trouble, why shouldn't I?

Vikir decided to stay in the background for now.

Next.

"Aren't you having fun?"

"What?"

"Isn't it a competition of talent and potential among young dreamers who will one day carry the family name in tow?"

"If you put it that way, I'm a dreamer."

"Master, you're already... and you're not fit to play in that age group."

"It's just a waste of time. I must pass quickly, I have a meeting with the head of the fort to discuss...."

But Vikir couldn't finish his sentence.

Quack, quack, quack!

A powerful explosion ripped through the area.

"Kaaaah!"

"Ugh!"

The three sisters of the Morg family and the three brothers of the Baskerville family were all stunned.

Flames roared, consuming everything around them.

Skewers of steel rose from the ground, turning the area into a field of thorns.

Puff, puff, puff!

The skewered wall of earth collapses in an instant.

The searing heat burned away the water and vegetation before Baskerville pushed back the triplets' blades and sent them flying.

A line of fire and iron, red and black, separates the Morgans from the Baskervilles in an instant.

The magic was so powerful that even the other Baskervilles, who had been watching the children's fight with amusement, half-sheathed their swords in surprise.

Crackle, crackle, crackle, crackle!

In the blink of an eye, the surrounding cotton fields turned into an inferno.

The Baskerville triplets barely made it beyond the wall of fire.

But their hair was already charred to a crisp.

"Hey, what the hell, you almost burned me!"

"What the hell!"

"What!"

The triplets jerked their heads up to protest Morg's overreach.

But Morg's three sisters on the other side of the room were treated even worse.

Not only are they scorched by the flames, but they've been skewered, scratched and torn all over.

Crawling on the floor, Highsis, Middlesis, and Lowsis had dark horror in their eyes.

"Hmph, hmph... I almost died just now...."

"If you had dodged a little later, you would have died, hmph-"

"Sisters- I'm scared-"

Seeing them stutter, the Baskerville triplets quickly shut their mouths to protest.

Morg was unrelenting, even against his own family.

All heads turned toward the direction the fire magic had come from.

Then, from beyond the barrier of fire, came a calm voice.

"... What is this?"

A cold voice, but somehow familiar.

And with it, an enforcer of iron skewers and hot flames.

The distant nickname that would later come to be known as Jian Tian Muhu.

Morg's mistress, who would come to be known as the Queen of Fire and Skewers, or the Queen of Red and Black.

'... But she is still young.

Vikir looked up.

An eight-year-old girl in a blur of memories.

And now, a fully grown fifteen-year-old girl.

Morg Camus.

She looked down at him, reunited after seven years.