Chapter 112: Grand Banquet (3)  

As the evening festivities felt like they were burning at the sharp pinnacle’s edge, the banquet of Baskerville arrived.

People gathered at the Baskerville ancestral home, and among them, those in important positions could enter the innermost part, a deep sanctuary.

The first floor of the ancestral home was the banquet hall.

Inside the large stone chamber, carved from black stone, it wasn’t overly luxurious or splendid, but it was undeniably grand and majestic.

The gothic interior had an eerie and cold atmosphere. It was hard to believe it was a place for a family meal.

The attitude of the servants who brought food, regardless of gender, was also peculiar.

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They moved like dolls, carrying food, and arranging utensils, and when idle, they stood against the wall, waiting for the owner’s command.

Meanwhile, at the large round table, some people were seated, having their meal.

The walls and ceiling were rigid, casting long and gloomy shadows.

At the end of it all sat Hugo, the head of the Baskerville clan.

Hugo Le Baskerville. He still had a ruthless and sharp demeanour as he dined.

Slowly cutting the meat, chewing, and swallowing it.

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Incredibly monotonous and repetitive work, but he didn’t open his mouth at all.

On the other hand, two men sitting some distance away from Hugo were constantly glaring at each other.

Boston Terrier and Great Dane.

These two, leading the Pitbull Knight-Order and the Mastiff Knight-Order, had been hostile toward each other since they entered the banquet hall.

“Cough!”

Boston Terrier coughed and twirled his fork with annoyance. Then he spoke with a displeased voice.

“Uh, isn’t the meat a bit undercooked?”

At Boston Terrier’s words, everyone at the table momentarily stopped their forkwork.

Boston Terrier, who was nervously poking the steak in front of him with his fork, soon lifted the meat on the fork.

Blood dripped onto the plate.

The faces of the servants lost their color at the sight of the bloody meat.

Especially the chef’s expression was as pale as a sheet of paper.

After a while, Hugo turned his head.

“Boston Terrier, do you find the meat displeasing?”

Upon hearing that, Boston Terrier was taken aback and lowered his head.

“Oh, no, sir. It’s not that. I was talking about the meat on the plate in front of me.”At his words, everyone’s gaze turned to what was on Boston Terrier’s plate.

“….”

There, a man with a sturdy build was silently slicing the meat.

A man who silently chewed and swallowed the rare steak with dripping blood.

He was none other than Great Dane, the leader of the Mastiff Knight-Order.

“What’s the issue now?”

Great Dane asked Boston Terrier in his gruff voice.

Boston Terrier grimaced, contorting the scar on his face.

“No, it’s just that the meat seems a bit too raw. I was suggesting you cook it a bit more.”

“I find it just right as it is.”

“Ah, I see. That’s your preference, then.”

Great Dane stopped forking the steak in his mouth and asked, “What else do you think I eat raw?”

“Oh, dear. Could you hear that? Your hearing is quite keen.”

“Say it again. What do you think I eat raw?”

“…Well, you didn’t quite catch that, did you?”

Instead of answering, Boston Terrier laughed inwardly, and with a voice that simmered deep in his throat, he said,

“You always seem to be in a hurry to chew things raw, whether it’s meat or rookie knights.”

The tension in the banquet hall escalated due to their confrontation. Boston Terrier spoke up to Great Dane.

“You sure love your meat raw. Whether it gives you food poisoning or not, I don’t care. But don’t think about having our new knights eat raw.”

“What nonsense is this? Such behavior is inappropriate for a banquet hall.”

“I know why you’re here. You want to put my beloved nephew in that shabby Mastiff Knight-Order.”

Boston Terrier was now openly growling. However, Great Dane calmly responded while wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Beloved nephew? I’ll grant you that. But there’s an issue with your previous statement. ‘My’ beloved nephew. He may be your nephew, but he’s also mine. As his uncle, it’s only natural for me to guide and train him on the right path.”

“Putting him in the Mastiff Knight-order, filled with knuckleheads, is the right path?”

“…Choose your words carefully. Entering the Mastiff Knightage is much better than the dull and sentimental Pit Bull Knight-Order”

“I’ll watch my words, but you better watch out for a dog bite soon.”

“You can’t even tell the difference between blood and bark; it’s quite pitiful.”

“A big, empty vessel making noise. What else can I say?”

Boston Terrier and Great Dane continued their heated exchange. They were both vying to recruit Vikir, using their respective knightages to persuade him.“…”

Vikir, who was quietly eating in the middle, found this situation awkward. He was familiar with the Pit Bull Knightage because he had led them once before.

They were a “special forces” knightage consisting of one hundred gladiators. They were known as the most fearsome knightage not only in Baskerville but also throughout the empire.

In the past, when Vikir served as the deputy magistrate of the Underdog City, the illegal slave auction house in the underground had been teeming with formidable criminals wanted throughout the empire.

The Pit Bull Knightage had wiped them all out in just half a day.

They had a reputation for ruthlessly eradicating the underbelly of crime, and their actions included dismantling Club Burning Suspension, a hub of luxury, pleasure, illegal activities, and crime, located underground.

All of these events had taken place under Vikir’s leadership. That was why the Count Boston Terrier cherished and loved his nephew Vikir so much.

“Nephew, trust only your uncle. I’ll make you the mightiest Pit Bull.”

He chuckled maliciously as he chewed the meat dripping with blood. He might have put on a kindly expression, but the servants around him were trembling in fear.

However, Boston Terrier wasn’t the only one pursuing Vikir.

“Cough! Nephew, the Mastiff Knightage isn’t so bad either… Well, it’s not just because I’m the commander, but it’s genuinely commendable.”

Great Dane had been sending subtle glances at Vikir since the beginning. The Mastiff Knight-Order, which he led, was also an elite group not inferior to the Pit Bull Knightage.

Like the Pit Bulls, the Mastiff Knightage had one hundred Graduators.

However, their operating method was slightly different from the Pit Bulls.

While the Pit Bulls were known as a “special forces” knightage that created an atmosphere of fear through one-sided slaughter and massacre, the Mastiff Knightage was a “war specialist” knightage that aimed to formally subdue the opponent through declared combat or war.

Both knightages were similar in terms of combat and bloodshed, but their methods varied.

This was why Boston Terrier, the Count, and Great Dane, the Count, kept revealing their true intentions and growling at each other.

“Those gentlemen who can’t even show their teeth without an official order are trying to ruin my beloved nephew’s future. Ah, where has their conscience gone?”

“Indeed, it’s quite a far cry from the honorable Mastiff Knightage. Well, it’s not just because I’m the commander, but it’s genuinely recommended.”

This entire argument was about recruiting the highly anticipated rookie, Vikir, into their respective knightages.

If they could recruit Vikir, who was currently the hottest commodity in terms of talent, into their knightages, it would mean all of Vikir’s reputation and achievements would come under their knightage’s banner. Moreover, the future of their knightages would be exceptionally bright.

At just seventeen, not even in his twenties yet, Vikir had reached the level of a Peak Graduator.

If such a talented individual were to join their knightages, it would undoubtedly bring a breath of fresh air to the position of knightage commanders.

Furthermore, since the Baskerville family valued strength above all else, both Count Boston Terrier and Count Great Dane were no exceptions. The other five Counts who couldn’t attend this gathering due to various reasons held similar sentiments.

…However.

In reality, Vikir had no intention whatsoever of joining either knightage.

“Because I plan to devour both of them.”

Is it just the two of them? No, Vikir intended to put all seven knightages of Baskerville, the entire Baskerville family, under his control. This had been his plan since his return to Baskerville, a plan he had been formulating for the past seventeen years.

However, the current dispute in this place was undoubtedly inconvenient. Boston Terrier and Great Dane’s ongoing rivalry, with Vikir caught in the middle, was intensifying.

Feeling awkward and not knowing what to do, Vikir turned his head. He was going to ask for help from Hugo, the head of the family and the host of the banquet.

…But.

“?”

Vikir couldn’t help but feel bewildered. It was because Hugo was watching the squabble between his two half-brothers with a smug expression on his face.

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