Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 131: The Professors' Tears

High mountains, deep valleys, lonely mountains. Snow front, here we go.

Where young souls died. Oimatsu was so hurt that he forgot what to say.

Comrade, can you hear this angry voice?

Can you see, comrade? Are you teary-eyed?

From the military song ``Going to Battle''-

* * *

As the age of the viewers increased, the ratings also changed.

The older professors, who had laughed at the new talent show as a child's play, started talking seriously.

"This is the first time I've heard a military song that touches my heart so much. It's like you can read my soul."

"Fifty years ago, on the last front, the empire was unified, and many people died. It reminds me of Lt. Big Flesher, Sergeant Wise Hawk, Corporal Upham, and Private Ryan just before.

"I'm sorry, old comrades; I'm the only one left. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, and I hope you don't hate me for being just.

The old professors, veterans who spent half their lives on the battlefield, began to cry.

Young professors and assistants who had experienced wars both large and small also indulged themselves with alcohol.

The veteran soldiers read the waves of emotion from the veteran soldiers' live songs and found resonance there.

It was a beautiful song full of heavy sadness that young puppies couldn't understand.

Do you know?

A while ago. My distant successor transcended time and performed a ritual for me, who was once my boss and senior.

On the other hand,.

Tudor and Sancho, who were forced to share a room, scratched their heads when they saw Vikir.

"Why does he sing military songs like an old man? Hey, Sancho, I thought he said he was a mercenary. Have you ever heard such a military song?"

"It's a military song that doesn't exist in the North. It's very good; I'd love to learn it."

"Do you have a veteran in your family? He must be the same age as us. Oh, by the way. Did he do the best on this written exam?''

``Hmm. That's pretty ambitious for a nerdy kid. I can't believe they're thinking of singing a military song at a talent show.''

The young people who aspire to be heroes didn't seem to understand the atmosphere of military songs yet.

Well then. Tudor and Sancho's conversation is interrupted.

"Hello. Excuse me. Are you a member of the Cold Class? If so, do you know the man who sang the military song earlier?"

A pretty girl with short-cropped white hair.

Walking down the hallway from the hot class, Sinclair's interest was piqued.

"Oh, no. We're in different classes. I don't know him. Why?"

Tudor and Sancho shake their heads, and Sinclair sees Vikiel and Piggy disappearing into the distance. I was looking at him with a wink.

She has actually seen them.

The way Piggy tenses up when his name is called and the awkward hand on his shoulder.

"...Just"

After saying that, Sinclair nodded with a weak smile.

"He seems like a nice guy. I just wanted to get to know him."

* * *

Vikil returned to the bar after the talent show.

Some older professors came over and spoke to him before he sat down at the bar.

"Is your father a military man?" I've never heard of military songs. Is it a song from your home country?"

``...What? There's no way I could have written such a song myself; it's such a wonderful song!''

``At our Royal Academy, we often hold military song contests. Please enter!''

``You! Would you like to take my composition course as a liberal arts elective?

Vikir was a little shy, but he didn't refuse the professor's offer. How could an old professor, as a young officer, refuse to drink alcohol from a high-ranking officer who had repeatedly thrust a sword into his heart for the sake of his name? a man who suddenly joins the war to save his men from the enemy. He ran into the ground and died in the line of duty, but his face was still youthful and shining.

The Academy is a gathering place for heroes past, present, and future, so it's no wonder he's met people from his past lives.

Vikir drank everything offered to him and returned to his seat.

That moment.

"...!"

Vikir returned to his seat and stopped.

Bianca. The genius, the only child, and the only daughter of the Usher family stood in front of Vikir.

Vikil silently pushed her aside and took her seat.

That moment.

Bianca turned her face toward Vikir.

"The roof."

"..."

"..."

Vikir stopped and thought about turning around, but she didn't.

Tingling.

Vikir continued on his way as if he did not notice that he was being addressed.

Bianca smelled the familiar smell of rum on her breath.

That was the same rum she smelled after chasing her on the rooftop.

No matter how fast she ran, she couldn't close the distance between them.

Although Bianca ran as fast as she could, she was unable to find out who the man was.

She had never lost a race before, but this was the first time she had lost so overwhelmingly that she couldn't keep up.

Bianca raised her eyebrows and called out to Vikir.

"Hey, wait, you were definitely on the roof earlier..."

But Bianca couldn't finish her sentence.

"Here we go, newbies! Cheers!"

"Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!"

"The liquor's going in, chug-chug-chug-chug!"

A few drunken seniors clinked their glasses together with a loud noise, blocking Bianca's view.

Clink- clink- clink- clink- clink- clink- clink- clink.

Glasses clink in front of her, splashing droplets of alcohol.

Among the many glasses in Bianca's path was a glass of rum.

"Wait a minute, I'll pass!"

Bianca pushed through the arms of her seniors and classmates and pushed through the crowd.

But.

When the toast was over and the glasses were gone, Vikir was nowhere to be found.

"Where did you go...!?"

Bianca looked around, but there was no one in the crowd.

She stopped and followed him.

By the way, there's a lot of rum in here right now, and it has a strong smell.

She wasn't sure if it was the same smell she smelled on the roof.

"Am I wrong?"

Bianca frowned slightly.

The bitter smell of rum that had clearly emanated from Vikir had now completely disappeared.

Instead, her sense of smell was numbed by the other awful smells of alcohol surrounding her.

At this point, she wondered if she had really smelled rum on the rooftop before. she wondered.

Maybe that farce was all a farce.

"...Yes. I guess it's because of the atmosphere.

Bianca turned her attention away from Vikir.

She wondered where she would find the strength and speed to run away from him.

She had no reason to pay any attention to him just because he was singing a military song that she couldn't relate to and that she didn't even know where it came from.

On the other hand,.

Vikir stood on the opposite side of Bianca's line of sight.

"You have good instincts."

The rum must have been on his breath when he overpowered the mercenaries outside the academy.

Fortunately, there were many drunk seniors and classmates nearby to hide the smell.

He looked up and saw Bianca in the distance, looked around, then gave up and left.

"Don't write them off as children. You'll have to be more careful from now on. Bow, poisonous Leviathan, Golden Bourgeois."

Even if they're a day-old puppy, they come from seven great families.

He should be more careful.

Vikir breathed a sigh of relief.

at that time.

Vikiel avoided Bianca's gaze and noticed another pair of eyes watching him.

St. Dolores, the academy's student council president and president of the newspaper club.

She glared at Vikir.

"What is that?" Doesn't his aura look familiar? '

Dolores scratched her head, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

Vikir quickly pushed back his bangs and adjusted his glasses.

He closed the door of his heart firmly so that no saint could read his soul, and then blended into the crowd as harmlessly as possible.

Fortunately, Dolores' gaze lingered for a few seconds and then disappeared.

The old professors, including the chair holders, got his attention with compliments.

Vikir stayed away from the saint's gaze, doing his best to keep the nighthound's true identity a secret.

"That's enough." I have to go back to my dorm.''

The end of the night was near.

Several drunken classmates were carried out of the dormitory building.

Vikil decided to take advantage of her mood and leave a little early.

...Certainly.

Just as he was about to disappear from his sight, something caught his attention.

"Hey, did you make any weird faces at the talent show earlier?"

"It's nice to fill in for a roommate; are you a parasite?"

"Hey, sing by yourself. Oh, you can do it yourself.

``Bitter told me to do it, so why don't you do it sooner?''

``Everyone~Piggy is going to sing~Everyone listen!''

Diverse second-year students A group surrounded Piggy.

The piglet hiccuped in embarrassment.

``Stop it, Senpai. ``I'm not good at anything, and it's not fun, so I'll stop, dammit!''

His face was red from drinking, and he was pouting.

But the second graders looked at him and giggled.

"What's the point of going to school if you can't be good at anything?" Why not try dancing, even though you used to be very good at it? I clumsily stomped my feet and danced, hahaha!

``If you can't, drink! Come on, let's end this and let you go!'' ``One blow for a man!''

``Everyone, tell me Piggy is about to show me something.

They laugh like they've caught a ball—a toy they can play with for years. They can do whatever they want with it.

Cruelty, harshness, ruthlessness, and malice.

We see a lot of this kind of violence in his second-grade eyes as we look at Piggy.

Then.

Vikil stands in the distance, looking at his second-year students with the same eyes.

The only difference is.

"..."

Vikir doesn't laugh.

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