The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 137: Skill Test (5)

Chapter 137: Skill Test (5)

Buzzer Beater is one of the unique rules in Rugby. It’s a rule that counts a goal scored right at the end of the game, or even a little later, as valid when the game is declared over, and the ball is in the air, not in possession of any player.

The small ball that Vikir had shot hit the goalpost almost simultaneously with the signal announcing the end of the game. As a result, the scores for Cold Department’s A-team and B-team were tied at 1:1, and the match entered into overtime.

By then, on the field, Tudor had also regained his senses.

“What on earth is going on?” Tudor was still unable to properly grasp the situation. It wasn’t a mistake he could explain unless he had stumbled.

However, everything was filled with uncertainty, and a large hand touched Tudor’s shoulder.

“Let me take on this challenge.” Sancho, who had become Tudor’s close friend since they started school, stepped forward. Sancho Barataria, chosen as a scholarship student by numerous mercenary guilds in the North, was Tudor’s teammate and someone Tudor could trust with his back.

Sancho faced Vikir across the field with a consistently serious expression.

Unlike Tudor, he didn’t let his guard down for even a moment.

“In the northern territories where even the weather whimpers in agony, everyone, from newborns to elders on the brink of death, has their own battles to fight. They all call themselves warriors.”

Trained in the harsh climate and terrain, Sancho knew that even the seemingly insignificant could take the life of a great man.

Vikir asked Sancho, “You’re just a goalkeeper tho?”

“A friend got hit twice, how can I stand by and do nothing?”

Sancho said as he stood beside Tudor.

Due to his overwhelming physique, Sancho had decided not to play. However, Tudor, moved by Sancho’s words, patted him on the shoulder.

Eventually, the game began.

Overtime.

Now, either A-team or B-team, whoever scores the “golden goal” first will win.

This is a performance evaluation that also counts for the mid-term evaluation, so everyone was giving it their all.

“Uwoooh! It’s the last one! Let’s win!”

“It’s a shootout for B-team! Even defenders, join the attack!”

“Linemen, gather! Block them!”

“Break it!”

All the students clashed with each other.

Then.

“Anyone, receive it!”

HighBro, holding the ball, found a gap in the encirclement by A-team linemen and made a pass. In the midst of the chaos, he ended up halfway in A-team territory due to the B-team’s strategy of mobilizing all players, including defenders, for the attack.

Thunk!

Unintentionally, the ball ended up in Vikir’s hands.

“…”

As soon as Vikir caught the ball, he looked at HighBro.

Vikir, who hated being in the spotlight, sent a simple message to HighBro.

“Do you want to die?”

“I-I’m Sorry…”

Even in that urgent moment, HighBro met Vikir’s gaze and lowered his eyes.

This reaction was the same for both Middlebro and Lowbro.

When the Baskerville triplets suddenly became sullen for an unknown reason, the morale of A-team linemen soared.

Tudor and Sancho didn’t miss this opportunity either.

“What’s going on? Why did those guys suddenly lose their spirits?”

“It must be because of our determination. Let’s go!”

Sancho took a step forward.

Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud!

Sancho, holding the ball, charged heavily toward the sluggish Vikir, who stood like a bull. It was as if he was pushing a massive rock.

Then, at that moment…

“!”

Sancho saw a completely different landscape right before his eyes. It was a memory from a long time ago, from his childhood when he used to push and roll a large boulder for training.

Could a small figure like his push a boulder much larger than him?

But in the end, young Sancho had pushed and pushed until the boulder finally gave way.

And now…

Thud!

The overwhelming force he had felt back then was now resonating from the tips of Sancho’s palms.

“What kind of strength…”

Sancho felt as if he were pushing against an immovable rock, even more so, he was being pushed back by an overwhelming force, and the sheer resilience was transmitted to him.

However…

Sancho clenched his teeth.

He had never been defeated in pure physical strength before, not by peers, nor by the older generation like his father or teachers.

Trained in the harsh climate and terrain, Sancho knew that even the seemingly insignificant could take the life of a great man.

He had pushed away a boulder that seemed impossible to move when he was a child.

“I’ll do the same now!”

Sancho thought, as he exhaled and put all his strength into pushing Vikir.

Thud!

Even a massive boulder eventually moved.

“Look at that! How about that!?”

Sancho laughed confidently as he looked down at Vikir.

But then…

“!”

Sancho met a gaze that left him speechless.

A blank, emotionless face stared back at him. It was Vikir’s expression.

A rock, a giant rock that Sancho had thought of.

When he pushed Vikir with all his might Vikir was pushed back, and when Vikir extended one leg backward and placed his heel on the ground…

Thunk!

A completely different sense of pressure and weight blocked Sancho’s path.

Overwhelming.

Thinking he was pushing a big rock, Sancho was shocked when he realized it was Vikir who stood firm behind it.

“No way! How can this little guy…!” Sancho was amazed.

When Vikir had both feet horizontally, Sancho could push him back slightly, but when he extended one leg behind, he couldn’t budge him even by a millimeter. It was astounding.

Vikir was supporting Sancho’s strength and weight without using any mana. The Stix’s River blessing, which was abundant in his body, had strengthened his bones and muscles beyond their limits.

If it had been before his regression, this would have been impossible, but as Vikir monopolized the Stix River’s blessing, it was entirely within his capabilities now. Moreover, a healthy body promotes a healthy mind.

During countless battles with monsters, he had pushed his soul to the limits, accumulating experience points and the smell of blood, which had made his body extremely robust.

Combined with Baskerville’s excellent physical foundation and the experiences he had accumulated, Vikir had surpassed the limitations of his natural rank.

… But that didn’t mean he needed to exert himself and win here. Eventually, Vikir stepped back naturally.

“Well, I can’t take this.”

Vikir slumped down. Since he had thrown the ball quite far, he was no longer the target of the A-team linemen.

As the ball flew away, everyone’s attention turned in that direction.

“Wow! Sancho stole the ball!”

“…Hey, but the guy tackled by Sancho isn’t dead, is he?”

“Who knows? Shut up and retrieve the ball!”

All the students rushed after the ball again.

… Except for one person. Sancho’s gaze was still fixed on Vikir.

“What was that just now?”

The guy who had fallen so pitifully at the end, but just before that, he had shown an overwhelming pressure that still tingled in Sancho’s palms and wrists.

Although Sancho had eventually managed to push him away, during their collision, it had been dark as if his vision had turned black.

And Tudor, who had seen his friend’s expression, also realized the situation.

“That guy’s body is incredibly tough.”

“…He doesn’t seem like a bookworm after all.”

“In terms of basic physicality, he’s quite impressive. Maybe even more so than you or me.”

“If he used mana, things would be very different, though.”

“That’s true. It’s a shame. If he had been born into a noble family and received systematic training, he might have become an expert by now.”

Tudor and Sancho continued to run towards the ball while keeping an eye on the fallen Vikir, their eyes filled with a mixture of regret, envy, and a touch of admiration.

* * *

Afterward, B-Class won thanks to a dramatic golden goal by Highbro, and fantastic assists by Middlebro and Lowbro.

Cheers and laughter filled the air as the B-Class students celebrated, showering each other with carbonated drinks, and spraying them on their heads.

Meanwhile, Vikir stood a bit away from the jubilant crowd. Suddenly, something rained down on his head.

It turned out to be carbonated drinks.

“…?” Vikir looked up, and just like him, Tudor and Sancho were standing there, covered in carbonated drinks, laughing.

“You’re the unsung hero of B-Class’s victory, but you’re just standing there quietly,” Tudor said.

“Be more upbeat. You guys won because of your buzzer-beater goal.”

Tudor chuckled and patted Vikir on the shoulder after flipping his carbonated drink upside down.

“To be honest, I was a little jealous of your performance during the last lecture. I was hoping to beat you in gym class.”

“…”

“But it was me who made a fool of myself. When I experienced it firsthand, I understood. How pathetic I was. Ah, I’m sorry.”

Tudor sincerely apologized.

Vikir just nodded silently. Tudor could sense a hint of sadness in his composed demeanor.

On the other hand, Sancho seemed to like Vikir’s sturdy physique.

“By the way, how much can you bench press without using mana? How about we hit the gym together later?”

“Hey, why are you talking about exercise again? Drink this; it’s soda since there’s no alcohol!”

“Ew! Spit that out! You’ll lose your gains!”

Tudor and Sancho sprayed drinks at each other while joking around.

Vikir simply smiled and turned his head.

Then, Sancho asked Vikir, “But seriously, what kind of workout do you do? Your body is rock solid. I thought you used mana.”

Sancho reached out and patted Vikir’s chest, shoulders, and back.

Vikir chuckled. “If I used mana, I wouldn’t have beaten you. My mana level is pathetic.”

“That’s a shame with such a blessed skeletal structure. If you had received proper early education, you would’ve undoubtedly become an expert like me. It’s not too late; you should seriously consider taking mana breathing classes at the academy.”

Tudor expressed his genuine regret.

But Vikir just smiled quietly. Tudor could sense a twinge of regret in his composed expression.

Soon, other students who had been watching the game handed water bottles to the players of A and B Classes.

“Tudor, have some water here!”

“…You can wash up with this.”

“We have towels too!”

They were offering water and towels to clean off the sweat and drinks from their bodies.

Tudor accepted the water and towels with a warm smile, surrounded by many female students.

Sancho and the Triplets of Baskerville also received water bottles to wash their heads and faces.

…And so did Vikir.

To clean off the sweat, dirt, and sticky soda from his face, he had to take off his glasses.

Vikir removed his glasses and pushed his bangs back. Then, he washed his face clean with clear water.

As his face was revealed from under the hair…

In that moment…

The sports field, which had been so lively just moments ago, suddenly fell into an eerie silence.