Revenge of the Iron-blooded Sword Hound
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.

Pomeranian 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.”

When Hugo le Baskerville was in the imperial capital before coming to the frontier, Vikir wasn’t born yet, so he didn’t know much about that time.

However, there was a rumor that Hugo used to be affectionate and homey, which Vikir once heard vaguely from the old Berry Moore caretaker.

“At that time, I thought it was absurd and didn’t give it much thought.”

Vikir briefly recalled the history of the Baskerville family.

The Baskerville family used to have their home near the imperial capital but moved completely to the west of the empire, this borderland with the Red and Black Mountains, not due to political disgrace.

Hugo le Baskerville had stepped forward before the emperor, suggesting that the entire Baskerville family relocate to the borderland. The reason was the savage tribe that had kidnapped his first wife, who died during childbirth and their beloved first daughter.

Because of this, Hugo developed an intense hatred for the tribes beyond the Red and Black Mountains and after that, he barely cared for his second wife and their children.

Following those incidents, he became a cold-blooded killing machine, slaughtering demons and savages alone, living only for that purpose. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the NovᴇlFɪre .ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

The emperor believed that this ruthless Hugo was capable and entrusted him with expanding the empire’s borders, leading him to further engross himself in his work to forget everything.

This was how the Baskerville of the Ironblood Sword Clan came to be.

And now, a lone stray hound from the Ironblood Sword Clan, having been left behind, unexpectedly formed an unanticipated connection here.

Pomeranian. Pomeranian le Baskerville.

Hugo’s most, or rather, only beloved woman throughout his life “Roxana”.

Their daughter, “Penelope.”

And “Penelope’s” daughter, “Pomeranian.”

In other words, if the assumption is correct, the girl in front of him would be Hugo le Baskerville’s direct granddaughter.

“…Does that mean I’m an uncle?”

It was a peculiar feeling.

Even though he didn’t know if nieces were being born somewhere at this very moment, there were no girls among them.

The Baskerville family, which prized daughters greatly, didn’t have a single daughter within Hugo’s direct lineage.

In fact, there were no daughters throughout the entire family.

Sons were abundant, though.

“After all, Hugo, that man, is only interested in seeking sons or grandsons who can contribute in battles.”

Hugo, the extreme war fanatic, the battle demon, someone who only saw his children as tools. What kind of expression would he make if he saw this small, delicate granddaughter?

Vikir shook his head.

No matter how much he thought, only negative thoughts came to mind.

Moreover, since there was mixed blood from the savage tribe, she might not be received warmly.

Vikir reached out his hand and placed it on Pomeranian’s head.

Pomeranian flinched slightly, but this time she didn’t dodge like before.

In a soft voice, Vikir said, “It seems even the Rokoko tribe didn’t treat you well.”

“….”

“Come with me.”

Since the Rococo tribe suffered significant losses due to an epidemic and left, Pomeranian couldn’t stay here either.

However, Pomeranian clung firmly to a pillar in the barracks.

Vikir lifted his head and found the reason Pomeranian didn’t want to leave.

It was because of the humble stone tomb behind her.

While Vikir was unsure of what to do, Aiyen stepped forward.

After bowing her head slightly at the stone tomb, she said to Pomeranian, “Our ancestors shed their earthly faults and became stars in the sky. Your mother is the same.”

“….”

“What’s inside this stone tomb is just the shell. Your mother’s soul has become a star in the sky, watching over you.”

“….”

“I hope you’ll quickly leave this scary place.”

Upon hearing this, Pomeranian lifted her head. She seemed to understand not only the Imperial language but also the language of the Ballak people.

[Translator – Clara]

[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]

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