Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 137: The Last Shot

The buzzer-beater is one of the most unusual rules of the game.

If the ball leaves a player's body and is still in the air when the end of the game is announced, a goal can be scored at the same time as the buzzer sounds or even after a short delay.

As soon as the end of the game was signaled, Vikir's ball hit the post.

The score for both teams was 1-1, and the match went into overtime.

By this time, Tudor, who had been sprawled out on the field, had come to his senses.

``What the hell is going on?

Tudor hadn't quite calmed down yet.

That couldn't be explained unless he was slipping, but I don't think the great Tudor king was like that. There was no way he would have made such an elementary mistake.

???

In the midst of all the questions, a large hand was placed on Tudor's shoulder.

``Leave it to me.''

Sancho, my best friend since attending Tudor, steps forward.

Sancho Barataria was an ally chosen by the numerous mercenary guilds of the North to unite.

He gave up his goalkeeper position and moved to the front line of the field to repay Tudor for considering him a friend and someone he could trust to have his back.

Sancho looked across the field at Vikir with a serious look on his face.

Unlike Tudor, he had not given up.

"In the frozen north, where even the frost groans, everyone, from the newborn to the dying, fights their own battles.

Warriors are forged by the harsh climate and terrain.

Sancho knew that even the most insignificant man could take the life of a great man.

said Tudor to Sancho, "I thought you were just a Guardian?"

``How can I stand still when my friend has fallen twice?''

Sancho said,, standing next to Tudor.

He had decided not to play in the league of his generation because he was too physically strong.

Tudor was moved by Sancho's words and patted him on the arm.

And the game began.

Overtime.

The first team to score a golden goal, either A or B, wins.

This is a performance evaluation that will be reflected in the mid-term evaluation, so everyone was fired up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! It's the end! Let's win!"

"Shootout on the B side! All defenders, come out and attack!"

"Linemen, block together. !"

"Destroy it!"

All the students started screaming.

Well then.

``Everyone knows!''

Highbrow, with the ball, found an opening in the encirclement of the Class A lineman and passed it.

He threw it to the man, who thought he was on the same side because of his uniform.

"...?"

It was Vikir.

Team B's strategy of using all defenders as attackers was half-drawn out.

...Jaws!

Unintentionally, Vikir caught the ball.

"..."

Vikir caught the ball and immediately looked at Highbrow.

Vikir didn't want to be the center of attention, so the implicit message to the highbrows was simple.

``Would you like to play?''

``Excuse me.''

Highbrow lowered his gaze, meeting Vikil's gaze even in such a sudden situation.

Mid-brow and low-brow were the same.

The class A linemen's morale soars when the Baskerville triplets suddenly become unhappy for some reason.

Tudor and Sancho also had chances to score.

"What's going on? Why were they suddenly so threatened?"

"I think it's because of our courage. Let's go!"

Sancho stepped forward.

Doo doo doo doo doo.

Sancho took the ball and charged like a buffalo towards Vikir, who was standing in the distance.

Then his muscular mass attacked. His forearm and palm pressed hard against Vikir's chest.

It's about that time.

"...!"

Sancho's eyes opened to an unreal sight.

It was a memory from a long time ago. It was a memory from his childhood, when he used to push and roll huge boulders for training.

Does his small body have the ability to roll over a much larger rock?

But the young Sancho kept pushing, pushing, and pushing that rock.

And now.

...Bang!

I felt the same regret in my palms as at that time.

"What power..."

Sancho felt a huge rock against Vikir's slender body.

He pushed as hard as he could, but it wouldn't budge.

In fact, it felt so heavy and anti-elastic that it pushed him backwards.

But.

Sancho gritted his teeth.

He had never before been pushed by someone with pure force rather than mana.

Not by his contemporaries, nor by older warriors like his father and mentor.

``I've never lost due to strength in my hometown, but I can't believe I lost at the academy!''

Even on the frozen Northern Warrior continent, he was invincible.

Even as a child, Sancho was forced to push against seemingly insurmountable rocks.

"It'll happen again!"

Sancho snorted and pushed Vikir away with his arm.

...Kuguguku!

The giant rock has finally moved.

"Look at this! How about this?"

Sancho smiled curiously and looked down at Vikir.

At the moment,.

"...!

Sancho has to face it. did not become.

Vikir's gaze was expressionless and motionless as she stared at him.

The stone he thought was just a huge stone.

Sancho's force threw him backwards, and the moment he stretched out one of his legs, his heel touched the ground behind him.

Dull thud!

A different gravity and a different weight stood in front of Sancho.

It was overwhelming.

He crashed into what he thought was a large rock, but then he saw Taizan standing behind him.

"No way! Why is this kid...?"

Sancho was surprised.

If Vikir had kept both his feet horizontal, he would have been able to move back a little, but since he had one leg stretched out behind him,.

Vikir didn't lose the ball, despite Sancho's strength and weight.

He was just thinking.

"Should I drop him?"

Vikir didn't use any mana.

His bones and muscles had been strengthened beyond their limits by the protection of the River Styx that penetrated his body.

This was not possible before his rebirth, but it is entirely possible in this life for Vikir, who has harnessed the power of the River Styx from an early age.

It is said that a healthy body is a healthy mind.

The karma, experience, and scent of blood etched into his soul from killing countless demons pushed his physical strength to its limits.

The Baskervilles' superior physical strength and hardy souls that have seen it all have enabled them to surpass the natural limits of their weight class.

But that doesn't mean you need to spend mana to win here.

At last, Vikir withdrew.

"Oh, no. I can't stand this."

Vikir collapses.

The ball was thrown far, so Vikir was no longer a target for the Class A linemen.

As the ball flies away, all eyes are on him again.

"Oh, Sancho has the ball!"

"That's right, but the man who attacked Sancho isn't dead, right?"

"Don't worry, shut up and get the ball back!"

All students chased the ball again.

But there's only one thing. Sancho's gaze was still fixed on Vikir.

``What was that?''

He finally fell, but the seriousness he had shown earlier still made Sancho's palms and wrists tingle.

He was finally able to push him away, but during the collision, his vision went black with frustration.

Tudor saw the look on his friend's face and realized what was happening.

``This guy has a really toned body.''

``I don't think he was a study bug...''

``His basic physique is pretty good, probably like yours. Better than me."

"It's a different story if he uses mana."

"Yes. That's a shame. If you'd been born into a noble family and gotten some organized training, you'd be an expert by now."

Tudor and Sancho looked at Vikir, who had fallen behind them, as they ran for the ball.

There was pity, envy, and a bit of recognition in their eyes.

* * *

Then, with a dramatic golden goal from Highbrow Baskerville and great assists from Middlebrow Baskerville and Lowbrow Baskerville, Class B won.

It was the Baskerville triplets who got the cheers.

Chuak-

The B students are laughing and splashing soda on their heads.

Meanwhile, Vikir was a little away from everyone, hugging and jumping up and down.

Well then.

Click!

Something rained down on Vikir's head.

It was lemonade.

"...?"

Vikir looked up and saw Tudor and Sancho standing there, also covered in lemonade and laughing.

``You won Class B, so you're not going to get away with it.''

``You should be more excited. Their brilliant goal is the reason they won.''

Lemonade-covered Tudors He grinned and hugged Vikir by the shoulders.

``In the last lecture, you answered the questions on your own so well that, to be honest, I was a little jealous. I wanted to trouble you in gym class.''

``...''

`` But I was the one who was humiliated, and I realized how sleepy I was. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Tudor sincerely apologized.

Vikir nodded in agreement.

Don Quixote Tudor, a hero of the Spear family.

He then hunted countless demons in the never-ending War of Destruction that followed the beginning of the Age of Destruction.

A hero who saved countless people, only to have the gate closed and die a tragic death. He was a Tudor.

Vikir nodded, remembering Tudor's heroic traits from his previous life.

At that moment, Sancho, who was next to him, asked Vikir.

``By the way, what kind of practice did you have? ``I was so sick that I thought I was going to run out of mana.''

Sancho reached out and rubbed Vikir's chest, shoulders, and back.

Vikir smiled weakly.

"If I had used mana, I wouldn't have been able to beat you. "I have so much mana."

"That's too bad; you're blessed with a great bone structure. If you train early, you'll definitely become an expert like me." It's not too late to take a Mana Breathing lesson at the academy.''

Tudor said, looking really sad.

But Vikir just smiled.

Tudor felt the tip of her nose twitch again at her casual attitude.

Meanwhile, Sancho chuckled as if he liked Vikir's hard body.

``By the way, how big is the third generation? without mana. Would you like to go to the weight room later and do some ironing with me?

"Hey, what are you talking about working out again? Drink this; I don't have alcohol; this is lemonade!"

"Ugh! Yay!

Tudor and Sancho

Vikil laughed quietly and turned away.

Immediately, students from other classes who were watching handed out bottled water to the top runners from Class A and Class B.

``Here, Tudor, drink this water!''

``Let's sweat it out with this...''...''

``And here's a towel!''

The idea is that their bodies

A crowd of girls crowded around Tudor, offering him water and towels.

"Haha, thank you, girls, just classmates after all.

Tudor accepted the water and towel with a warm smile.

Sancho and the Baskerville triplets also grabbed a water bottle to wash their hair and faces.

... And Vikir did the same thing.

I have to take off my glasses to wash my face, which is sticky from sweat, dirt, and drink.

Vikir took off his glasses and pushed back his bangs. Then he washed his face with clean water.

His real face is revealed beneath the hair that covers his face.

Vikir looked up, wiped his face, and returned to his stand, water dripping down his face.

....

The gym suddenly became quiet.

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