The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 247 Survival Competition (3)

The sun quickly sets in the jungle.

The gradually darkening sky, which was once hot, is now chilling.

“Hoo… What’s that smell?”

Dolores emerged from the bushes in an exhausted state.

Her clothes were torn in various places, and stained with twigs, leaves, and dirt.

Her HP was only around 38%.

Then.

“Huh?”

Dolores discovered the source of the tempting smell and flickering light.

The warmth emanating from the embers covered by ashes and the bubbling red stew made Dolores salivate.

‘Why is this here…?’

In her mind, she knew something was strange. However, her feet involuntarily moved towards it.

She couldn’t resist because the smell of the stew was too overpowering.

“There are traces of someone sitting here. No signs of lurking around. It doesn’t seem like they prepared for an ambush. Did someone make this food to eat and then leave in a hurry or abandon this place altogether?”

It was the only scenario that made sense.

If Dolores were her usual self, she wouldn’t touch anything that didn’t belong to her. However…

“Surviving is all that matters. That’s the rule of the survival competition.”

If that’s the case, it might be excusable.

Dolores slowly reached out towards the stew.

Then.

Sizzle-

Someone stood up from the tall grass quite far away.

“Wait.”

It was Vikir.

The distance was too far for a surprise attack, but for Vikir, who specialized in archery, it was a sufficient range for an assault.

However, Dolores was also prepared for an archer’s surprise attack.

“There was an ambush after all!”

She quickly prepared a sacred defense barrier and stepped back.

Vikir also raised his bow and aimed in her direction.

“…”

“…”

Vikir and Dolores confronted each other.

Even though they were from the same school, according to the rules of the competition, they were ultimately enemies.

However, it was still inefficient to engage in combat between students from the same school when the competition was only in the middle.

So, Dolores couldn’t move recklessly.

“…”

“…”

Two young individuals, not entirely allies or enemies, stared at each other in a strange silence.

And the one to break the silence of this standoff was Dolores, or more precisely, her stomach.

…Gurgle!

Dolores’ stomach, having gone without food all day, made a noise.

Dolores’s face instantly turned red.

However, the indifferent Vikir paid no attention, to whether Dolores’ stomach emitted opera sounds or heavy metal tunes. Thirsty people dig wells. In the end, Dolores, in a regrettable situation, raised both hands first.

“…Um, how about we join forces for a while as fellow students from the same school? The competition is far from over.”

“Feel free to do as you wish.”

Vikir’s nonchalant response, putting away his bow, made Dolores furrow her brow. Gradually, the atmosphere settled into an uneasy truce.

However, for Dolores, there was still something regrettable aside from merely avoiding a fight.

“Um, hey. Is there any stew left? If there is, could you share some with me?”

She awkwardly voiced her inner thoughts. The esteemed Dolores was reduced to begging for leftovers. Quite a pathetic sight.

Dolores hastily added, “Of course, I’m not asking for free! I can cast heals and buffs on you all!”

In such extreme conditions, the presence of a healer could be crucial. So Vikir promptly declined, “Not necessary.”

“All right, it’s a win-win… What, why not?”

Hearing Vikir’s response, Dolores doubted her ears. Come to think of it, Vikir seemed to defy common sense. Didn’t he recently burn over half of the thrifty leather obtained from a joint venture between the noble faction and the commoner faction at the bargain sale?

Dolores stared at Vikir with a puzzled expression and soon realized why he didn’t need heals or buffs.

HP 100%.

Vikir maintained perfect condition without any fatigue or damage, even in this green hell!

‘How is this possible?’

As Dolores’ thoughts became complicated once again,

“Hey, um, Vikir.”

Granola peeked his head out from the bushes next to Vikir.

“Do you happen to have forgotten who she is? She’s the saintess of Quovadis and the student council president of the academy! Even if she seems lacking, what…”

“…”

“Leaving aside such things, how can you refuse when such a beautiful lady is asking for help?”

Granola’s words were something that ordinary people could empathize with. However, Vikir was not ordinary. As if finding Granola troublesome, strong pairs of hand appeared from behind him and pulled him away.

“Hey, secret friend. Let’s have a private moment for a while.”

“Private moment.”

“Private moment.”

Highbro, middlebro, Lowbro.

And soon…

The quiet standoff between Vikir and Dolores resumed.

Then.

Dolores, who had sighed lightly, raised both hands.

“I’m neither the saintess of Quovadis nor the student council president of the academy.”

“…”

“Just a hungry lamb, that’s all.”

It was a declaration of surrender. Dolores recalled a phrase she had heard somewhere in her mind.

“Who are you to visit me at such an ambitious moment?”

“…I’m just a lost lamb.”

The first conversation shared with Night Hound.

Deeply moved by it, Dolores responded similarly on this occasion. Vikir, understanding her intention, lowered his bow and stepped aside, indicating his permission. Dolores finally sat by the campfire and ate the stew.

“Thank you.”

The stew that Vikir ladled out exuded a pleasant aroma. Dolores’s nose twitched. The slightly meaty smell in the stew was undoubtedly due to the small mushrooms Vikir added as a garnish.

Sip…Gulp

As Dolores swallowed a mouthful of stew, her expression transformed from surprise to delight.

“…Delicious.”

In such a harsh environment, how could such exquisite taste be achieved? Even with the addition, it was the most delectable thing Dolores had tasted since she was born. Whether it was the difference between salmon and bamboo shoots or not, the taste was undeniable at the time.

Unaware of the red spots on her face, Dolores absentmindedly emptied the bowl.

A whopping twelve times!

Throughout, Vikir silently sat next to Dolores. Eventually, when her stomach was somewhat full, Dolores, with a somewhat awkward expression, spoke to Vikir.

“I encountered a formidable opponent right at the beginning of the competition. I was attacked by Hohenheim.”

As the president of Mage tower, he certainly possessed skills worthy of the title.

Dolores’ comrades stood by her side until the end, resisting together. At a party, the death of a healer truly meant a dire situation. As a result, Dolores lost all her team members and was left alone. The formidable spellcaster, Hohenheim, could single-handedly annihilate several teams even without reinforcements. Despite Dolores casting heals and buffs on her allies, she eventually faced defeat in a guerrilla battle against Hohenheim, who swiftly attacked and retreated.

“But his team also lost all four members. They just followed behind Hohenheim and were picked off one by one. So, if we look at the results, it’s a draw, 1:1.”

Although no one specifically asked, it was valuable information in its own right. Granola and the Baskerville twins listened attentively, their eyes gleaming. It wasn’t common to have the opportunity to receive advice from a third-year ace during the competition.

However…

“Is that so?”

Vikir, with an expression that revealed nothing of his thoughts, simply nodded. Dolores was at a loss for words at his indifferent reaction.

Eventually, she started observing Vikir more closely.

‘Why is he so nonchalant in this disastrous situation? How does he know such cooking methods? Where did he get the ingredients?’

Vikir seemed incredibly comfortable as if he were in his living room and kitchen.

The red and black mountain seemed to be like his hometown. Of course, Dolores had no way of knowing that Vikir had been wandering through these mountains for decades, even living there for two years.

And, he had a ring with spacial magic rivaling that of Mage Tower , containing fresh ingredients and spices.

Meanwhile…

Splish-splash-splish-splash…

Vikir continued to cook the fish stew, using wide leaves to fan the aroma over it. The warmth and fragrance spread throughout the disaster zone on the wind. In such a dark night, the light and aroma would become even more intense.

With a playful smile, Dolores asked, “By the way, who are you trying to lure with this food? What if an incredibly strong enemy comes? Like Hohenheim, or Bakilaga from Varangian, or Lovegood from Temisquira…”

Using food as bait to lure prey was good, but if it attracted too strong of prey, the hunter might turn into the hunted. Dolores seemed genuinely concerned about the possibility of Hohenheim or Bakira coming.

Then…

Plop!

Vikir tossed an unseen mushroom into the coconut pot while answering, “It doesn’t matter who comes.”

As if waiting for that response…

Boom!

The front thicket was engulfed in a massive flame, burning it to ashes.

Step-step-step…

Amidst the ashes, someone walked towards the center of the space that had turned into a pile of rubble.

“What’s this smell?”

The student council president of Mage Tower.

The current strongest contender for victory.

A predator who wiped out 50 students himself.

It was none other than Hohenheim.

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