Chapter 118: Falling in Love (3)

Chapter 118: Falling in Love (3)

A man's tears.

It's a rare thing to see. The older you get, the more so.

Men are socially conditioned not to shed tears.

It's a rare thing to see in a normal family home, but not in Baskerville, where the iron-blooded sword is a thing of the past.

Iron blood boiling in the heart of a furnace. A Swordmaster without human emotion.

Hugo Les Baskerville, the iron-blooded swordsman of Baskerville.

Tears are not the word to describe him.

A needle in his eye would make him bleed, but not tears.

So Vikir was surprised this morning when he saw Hugo crying.

...So surprised, indeed.

In an age of destruction, through a devastating decade of war, he could think of few times when he had been so surprised.

And so Vikir thought.

'There will be no more surprises.'

I've seen Hugo cry, what more surprises can there be?

Vikir thought.

...But.

Vikir had to be surprised once more, even more so than when Hugo cried earlier.

"Alas, peek-a-boo!"

In front of him now was a Pomeranian sitting awkwardly.

And the Pomerian is sitting on someone's lap, and the one who is trying to make the Pomerianan laugh with this stupid joke... ... as soon as... ... .

'I hate to admit it, but that's Hugo Les Baskerville.'

Vikir put a hand to his forehead.

'It is indeed Hugo the Ironblade, Lord of Baskerville, who now has Pomeranian in his lap and is making a ridiculous face with his hands, tongue, and eyes.'

Character Breakdown. It's as if all the common sense Vikir has ever possessed has come crashing down.

He's shocked, and so is everyone else in Baskerville when they hear the conversation between Hugo and Pomeranian.

"???"

"????"

Just as Butler Barrymore and Osiris Baskerville, now standing beside Vikir, are open-mouthed.

Vikir even thought to himself.

'Has he been brainwashed by demons?'

But no matter, Hugo is still his usual self.

"Uh heh heh, do you find this grandfather's mustache strange? Is it fun to pull? Now, there is this one too."

"Moustache... dirty...."

"Hmm? Heh heh heh – dirty! This old man always shampoos and rinses his mustache. Today, I did a special essence because you were coming."

"installment... mustache... pick it off...."

"Hmmm? The installment? Ohhh! Yes, yes, yes, it's Grandpa! Do you want to call me that again? Hehe, I'm your grandfather."

It was a roundabout way of saying it. Hugo's reaction was not at all what Vikir had expected.

"Where did this come from?

Vikir recalled a moment in time.

Hugo looked at the Pomeranian with that same trembling look in his eyes.

'This, this, this child, is this really Penelope's child?'

'It is. The dark hair and red eyes are characteristic of Baskerville; and, judging by the portrait, she bears a striking resemblance to Roxana the First Lady, and also to Penelope's sister....'

'Not so much as a resemblance, I, I thought Penelope was alive and well, no way!'

Pomeranian's whole body proved that she was Penelope's child.

The tiny mole on the nape of his neck and the blue stain on his calf were physical features that Hugo also had.

What's more, the Pomeranian was found among the Rococo tribe that had taken Penelope, and he even had a pendant that Hugo had made himself.

Even Barrymore, the butler, had never seen Osiris laugh so easily in his life.

Naturally, the butler's face lights up when he sees his master and little master laughing.

There was a breeze in Baskerville that hadn't been felt in a long time.

... Just then.

A voice wiped the smiles from Hugo's, Osiris', and Barrymore's faces.

"I have a word with you, Father."

It was Vikir.

Vikir. Suddenly, the atmosphere cleared.

As Vikir opened his mouth, both Hugo and Osiris turned to look at him with serious expressions.

The one who had brought them this great happiness.

Their gazes toward the belly of the family were grave, but they were also filled with undeniable favor and gratitude.

Hugo quickly understood Vikir's purpose.

"Oh, yes. The reward."

The reward should be clear. That was Hugo's theory.

You've found Penelope, you've avenged her by killing a demonic creature, and you've rescued a granddaughter you didn't even know existed.

These deeds are unspeakable.

Hugo nodded, ready to listen to anything Vikir had to say.

Beside him, Osiris did the same.

"Tell me what you want, son."

"Anything I can do to help, brother."

Vikir nodded.

Now that things had gone so well, it was time to set his sights on the end goal.

Before heading to the Academy, there was something he needed to take care of within the family.

It is revenge for the miserable end before the return. And it was the first step to prevent the age of destruction that was about to unfold.

"There's a demon I'd like to hunt."

"...?"

"A very dangerous one."

"...!"

Hugo and Osiris' faces hardened as they heard Vikir's words.

They were the iron-blooded swords of Baskerville, the Master and Young Master, the swords of the Empire, fighting demons.

Hugo asked.

"What kind of demons?"

"If you're asking what kind of demons, I don't know exactly. But...."

"Just?"

Osiris asked, this time.

Vikir answered tersely.

"I only know the location of where they are hiding."

At that, Hugo and Osiris nodded in unison.

"Yes. And what is that location?"

Vikir answered as if he had been waiting.

"Inside the family estate."

"...!"

The two men's eyes widened.

At this point, Vikir told them what he really wanted.

"Half a day. I want to borrow the Seven Knights of Baskerville for half a day."

Half the power of the Baskervilles.

A single weak nation could be wiped off the map in a day.