Chapter 203 Mixed Bathing (1)

Venetior City Center.

A tranquil waterway flows beneath the elevated walkways and the towering walls of the academy rise in the center of the bridge.

The bridge in the early morning is quiet. There are hardly any pedestrians on the usually bustling street. Only a few diligent early risers are sporadically moving about, starting their day.

And Vikir is crossing the bridge towards the academy.

Slowly, steadily.

His physical condition was not as good as he thought.

The blood that had flowed from his waist had coagulated, and there was no more bleeding, but he still felt exausted.

‘Even with enhanced regenerative abilities from the Picaresque Mask, it’s still challenging… I probably wouldn’t have endured it if I were in the Human Form.’

If he was in the Human Form, he might have already passed out.

Vikir eventually managed to stumblingly lead his stumbling body to the academy’s outer wall.

Huff, huff –

A small black dog walked with its tongue out.

Security guards patrolling the academy walls noticed Vikir.

“Oh, wow, why is this dog so cute? It’s all black, too.”

“Hey, hey! Don’t touch it. It looks like a sick dog. What if the dirt is contagious?”

“Because it’s dirty, let’s get rid of it.”

When one guard tried to pet Vikir, another guard stopped him.

Whack –

Another guard walked up with a stern expression and kicked Vikir.

Directly on the butt, Vikir had to move away.

The guards chuckled at Vikir and soon walked away without looking back.

‘…I’m in a pitiful state as a stray dog.’

He was aware that street life was tough, having wandered the streets before.

But the feeling of the street for a human and a dog was vastly different.

Vikir pressed himself against the outer wall of the academy, trying not to attract attention.

Just passing by ordinary pedestrians would cautiously move away.

Because they had no idea when or by whom they would be attacked.

“Black dog, Black dog, look here.”

A drunken passerby took out sausages from his pocket and threw them, but of course, Vikir had no intention of eating them.

Entities showing interest in him were dangerous, so it was better for them to stay away.

“What’s this? An unsociable dog.”

The drunkard shook the sausages a few times, threw them on the ground, and walked away.

‘…’

Vikir quietly pondered, pressed against the wall.His eyes scanned the surroundings, while his mind replayed the battle with Sere.

Snake Morg, who should have become the king of the corpses, hadn’t shown any unusual signs, according to the recent report from CindiWendy.

‘He still seems to be human.’

And at that point, the Queen of Corpses appeared. What did that signify?

The Aheuman Lich, the weird behavior of Gerento…

And the last words she (The Corpse Queen) left behind…

There were more things to think about.

The main reason Vikir couldn’t end the Corpse Queen’s life at the time of decision was, once again, his lack of swordsmanship skills.

Vikir recalled Hugo’s strength during the fight with Andromalius.

With a single sword strike, he created seven fangs, upper and lower jaws that closed like a monster’s mouth, and the overwhelming majesty that split the sky into seven pieces.

Although they were both using Baskerville’s seventh style, the strength between Vikir’s and Hugo’s swords was like Heaven and Earth.

That was the gap between the Peak Graduator and a Swordmaster.

However, Vikir also had a moment when he surpassed that gap and reached the level of a master.

It was during his fight with Dantalian that he received the buff from Saint Dolores.

Even though it was just a moment, Vikir emitted a power comparable to Hugo’s and reversed the tide of the battle.

The issue was that he needed to generate that level of power even without the Saint’s assistance to survive future battles.

To quickly reach that Realm of Master…

‘…I’ve shed too much blood. My thoughts keep getting interrupted.’

There were many things to think about, but his concentration was gradually diminishing.

He needed to find a safe place to rest, plan the next move, and then take action.

‘Let’s go inside the academy for now. Whether it’s the dormitory or a safe room, I need to get some sleep…’ Vikir dug the ground with his front paws.

The hole beneath the wall, like a fortress, was easily reopened since it had been filled with loose soil and fallen leaves.

When Vikir dug into the underground tunnel beneath the academy and entered inside, he heard voices from a thicket.

“Ugh, did I drink too much? Starting to get sleepy now.”

“Just take a puff and let’s go inside quickly for some sleep.”

“I’ll sober up in a bit.”

Three male students and three female students were leaning against the wall, mumbling.

The smell of alcohol and cigarettes lingered, and these individuals, who hadn’t slept until this hour, seemed to have no intention of stopping their debauchery.

Vikir noticed the distinct scars still visible on their foreheads.

X

He knew those scars well.

Because those were the scars Vikir had personally made on them after the Freshman ceremony in the beginning.

‘…The 2nd-year students who used to torment Figgy.’

Trashy bullies who preyed on Figgy, who was tense at the start of the semester and was seen as an easy target.

So, Vikir, in his Night Hound form, trailed them, lured them into a back alley when they left the academy, and gave them a thorough beating.At that time, Vikir took out his knife and carved cross scars on the foreheads of these school bullies.

“Do anything to disturb the peace within the academy again, and not only you, but your parents too, will be killed.”

It was a grim threat.

After being brutally beaten by Vikir, these human scums had spent their time inside the academy as if they were dead, stifling their breath.

These guys harassed anyone they thought was weaker, whether it was a peer or a senior. They would grovel and fawn if someone stronger or of higher status appeared, whether a junior, peer, or senior, displaying their despicable nature.

They couldn’t make a sound inside the academy after being subjected to such overwhelming violence and terror.

Who could it possibly be? Who was responsible for the retaliatory attack? And even went so far as to endanger their parents?

There were too many suspects, making identifying the perpetrator difficult.

They were afraid that retaliation might come at any time and anywhere, so all they could do was moan and groan while reflecting on the grudges they had accumulated so far.

As these troublemakers quieted down, the disturbances within the school also significantly decreased.

…However, didn’t they say people don’t change?

Despite being cautious due to the fear of being watched from somewhere, their wariness didn’t extend to a stray dog with nowhere to go.

“Hey? What’s this? A damn dog.”

One male student, drinking from a bottle, noticed Vikir emerging from the thicket.

Vikir turned his head silently. While his internal injuries healed quickly, the wounds scattered across his body were still far from completely healed.

The six 2nd-year students laughed and surrounded Vikir.

“Hey, is it okay for stray dogs to wander around inside the academy?”

“It might be contagious. Let’s get rid of it. Cleaning up trash is a good deed, isn’t it?”

“I’ve been stressed lately, so this works out well. Let’s tie it up somewhere for now.”

“Should we burn it alive on the spot?”

“Oh, come on! Look at this poor thing! Just toss it into the sewer and be done with it.”

“Ah, it suddenly reminded me of that masked bastard. If I see him next time, and I’ll carve the same scars on that bastard’s forehead. Maybe I should practice by carving them on this dog’s body?”

The six delinquent students laughed, some tossing burning cigarette butts at Vikir, while others threw and shattered bottles. Spitting or kicking was routine.

Vikir paused for a moment. ‘Should I just kill them?’ Enduring requires strength, which seemed difficult, especially given his body’s state. Even with severe injuries, he could easily make all six heads roll on the ground in less than a second, no, half a second, if he returned to a human body.

But that would inevitably lead to a sensational news headline in tomorrow’s Academy morning newspaper.

[Shock! Academy students killed by a stray dog!?]

It would only cause trouble for other dogs and cats. Additionally, there was no suitable place to dispose of the bodies, and he didn’t have the stamina for it. Most importantly, he had been trying to close his eyelids involuntarily.

[Growl…]

A faint whimper that only Vikir’s ears could catch echoed from above. When he raised his head, He saw Baby Madam with her fur standing on end, glaring down from the wall.

She seemed poised to leap down any moment. However, Vikir lowered his head. The Colosseo Academy’s 2nd-year students were strong in their own way. Six of them together were still overwhelming for a small spider like her.

‘No choice. I’ll briefly return to my human form…’

As Vikir was contemplating the best way to dispose of the bodies without leaving a trace, a voice echoed from somewhere with an extremely dry and chilly tone.

“Cold Department, 2nd Year, Class A.”

The voice continued, listing the trashes’ attendance numbers and names one by one.

“…What the hell?”

A surprise reinforcement arrived.

A female student with an unusually cool and composed demeanor, holding bowls of food in one hand and bowls of water in the other.

It was none other than Dolores L Quovadis, President of the Student Council.