The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 246 Survival Competition (2)

400 students fell into the forest.

Despite spreading out widely and falling apart, eliminations were happening shortly after the competition started.

“Ugh… my stomach, it hurts too much. Wasn’t it that fruit I ate earlier?”

“Wheuk! Wheeeeuk! Cough! I drank stagnant water in that hole earlier, and now I’m vomiting…”

“Aaah! It hurts! Something bit me! My eyes are swollen!”

The designated map for the competition, ‘Red and Black Mountain Range,’ was harsh in itself.

Poisonous mushrooms or fruits, contaminated water, bugs armed with toxins sticking to them, the oppressive atmosphere, heavy humidity, and all sorts of vines and leaves that could cut, stab, or shoot were making it impossible for students to endure even for a few hours.

Sweat dripped just from standing still.

Even simply enduring the bugs attached to their bodies was difficult.

Moreover, rapid dehydration symptoms, fatigue, and hunger meant that eating something would either lead to poisoning or food poisoning.

HP was melting away like butter on a hot frying pan.

This HP, accumulated in specially-made suits, was linked to the wearer’s health and stress levels, increasing or decreasing accordingly.

In other words, students had to do their best to survive without letting the HP of their suits reach zero.

If the HP reached zero, they would be forcibly teleported back to the waiting room.

Meanwhile,

“…Huff, huff, huff.”

Granola de Reviadon of the Colosseo Academy’s Hot Department was breathing heavily with sweat dripping like a waterfall.

The recorded value in his HP suit was 74%.

Since landing in this forest, he hadn’t fought anyone, yet 26% of his HP had already evaporated.

“This is insane. Is this forest really hell? Does such a jungle actually exist in reality?”

But no matter how much he complained, nothing changed.

Granola stared at the collected rainwater in the hollow of a tree.

At first glance, it looked like drinkable water, but bringing his nose closer revealed a foul smell emanating from inside.

Straining his eyes, he saw small centipedes wriggling below the surface.

“Ugh!”

Granola recoiled, holding back nausea.

Drinking something like that due to thirst would cause him to become a ✨Forbidden chocolate fountain✨

And through diarrhea, he would lose a significant amount of fluids.

‘If that happens, my HP will reach zero. I’ll be eliminated without doing anything.’

Granola turned his head with a tired expression.

Looking down at his waist, he saw the fish he caught earlier.

Despite trying to dry it by scaling it immediately, it remained damp, probably due to the high humidity.

Bringing his nose to it, he smelled a rotten, unpleasant odor.

“Ugh, I can’t drink water, all the food is spoiled. What am I supposed to do?”

Granola began to understand why seniors considered the Red and Black Mountain Range the worst map.

The successor of the Reviadon clan, Granola, found the actual wilderness to be terrifying to the point of being overwhelmed. The poisonous mushrooms and plants depicted in the guidebook looked slightly different in reality. Whether they were larger or smaller, flipped over, torn, inverted, dried, in darkness, or in light, their appearance changed instantly. Many variations, subspecies, and new species were not even mentioned in the guidebook.

“Ugh, that’s right. Even someone like me, who is well-versed in various poisons, is struggling. I wonder how other insignificant individuals are faring.”

Wiping off cold sweat, Granola turned his head, wanting to see how his fellow team members were enduring.

…But.

“Oh, this is delicious.”

“Delicious.”

“Delicious.”

Above the blazing campfire, with Highbro, Middleboro, and Lowbro, there were coconuts split in half containing boiling water, and white fish fillets were simmering. In the center, a male student with an expressionless face was sitting.

Vikir.

He adapted to the Red and Black Mountain Range as if he had casually entered his own living room.

* * *

“This feels like home.”

Vikir was experiencing comfort as if he had returned to his hometown after a long time.

The Red and Black Mountain Range, as a member of Ballak and as a hunting dog of Baskerville, he was in a familiar place.

The sharp blades of leaves that cut through flesh, the venomous stings of insects that caused swelling, and the scorching heat, and humidity that choked the throat—all were familiar and longed for.

With familiar movements, Vikir found a flint and lit a campfire, instantly raising the temperature around with the scarce light and smoke. The sticky humidity was removed with spicy ash, and the meal consisted of fish caught from the nearby river, selected mushrooms, and roasted fruits.

Even the water was purified using charcoal and baked earth before being boiled in the embers.

The triplets—HighBro, MiddleBro, and LowBro— moved as Vikir told them to.

“Hey, Vikir. Can we drink this water?”

“No, you can’t.”

“Can you tell us why? It looks clear on the surface.”

“Earlier, when I went upstream, I found dead beaver corpses scattered around.”

“I see. Even though it looks clear on the surface, there might be microorganisms inside. What about these tree fruits? Are they edible?”

“You can eat them if you slightly crush them to evaporate the poison. If you eat them raw, you might go blind.”

The atmosphere in the group, centered around Vikir, was changing. Granola was greatly surprised to see the “Baskerville Triplets” obediently following Vikir’s instructions.

‘…That guy. Maybe he’s more impressive than I thought.’

Unconsciously, Granola’s gaze fell on the fish stew Vikir was cooking. The steaming red broth and various vegetables floating in it, along with the white fish fillets, made his mouth water just by looking at the spicy soup.

‘Oh no! I can’t beg a commoner for food.’

Granola absentmindedly touched the spoiled raw fish in his pocket. Depending on a commoner for help now would damage his pride.

…But, in the end, hunger had no business with pride.

“Hey.”

At Vikir’s call, Granola turned his head with a resentful look. A bowl of dried spicy soup from the coconut bowl was handed to him.

“Eat while you mumble. I don’t care what you’re doing.”

Hearing Vikir’s words, Granola felt tears welling up in his eyes.

“…This commoner. Perhaps he’s a bit better than I thought.”

And when Granola lightly touched his lips to the spicy soup.

“……! ……! ……!”

His eyes widened as if they were about to burst.

‘It’s delicious!’

Granola felt a shiver at the shockingly delicious taste that seemed to melt his tongue. Food eaten outdoors during a camp always seemed to enhance its flavor. Perhaps it was because he was exhausted from dehydration and hunger all this time.

Vikir’s spicy soup, prepared in the wild, was even more delicious than the first-class chef’s cuisine he had eaten at the main mansion of the Reviadon family.

‘I’ll ask him to work in our kitchen someday!’

Granola devoured a bowl of the spicy soup on the spot, hiding his delight like a cat burying its waste. Watching him, Vikir calmly added more mushrooms, fish, and a few dried bugs(?) to the pot, letting it simmer for a while.

Granola, still entranced by what he had just eaten, shyly spoke up.

“Uh, excuse me…”

“Eat more. There’s plenty.”

“Th-thank you…”

Avoiding eye contact, Granola coughed a few times and then tilted the coconut bowl to pour more broth.

Slurp slurp slurp…

Granola managed to consume fifteen more bowls, and eventually, he let out a long sigh as if declaring his survival.

His HP, which had dropped to 41%, had now risen to 92%.

Granola gently touched his bulging stomach. Despite eating so much, there was still a considerable amount of spicy soup left in the large coconut.

Granola grinned and asked Vikir, “Hey, commoner… Vikir.”

When Vikir turned his head, Granola cautiously inquired about something he was curious about.

“About this red fish stew. Why did you make so much? It seems like you don’t eat that much yourself.”

HighBro, MiddleBro, and LowBro also turned their attention in this direction, though they hadn’t said anything; they seemed curious too.

“…”

Vikir remained silent for a moment, closed his eyes, and then slowly raised his eyebrows while answering.

“Fishing.”

At this, everyone, including Granola, tilted their heads curiously.

Fishing for more fish after making a spicy soup with the fish you just caught?

Vikir unusually decided to provide additional clarification.

“The prey will soon be baited.”

With this explanation, everyone, including Granola, couldn’t help but chuckle.

Fishing for more fish with the fish caught through fishing?

Vikir, with unprecedented kindness, continued to stir the pot with the broad leaf, letting the enticing aroma of the spicy soup spread. It mingled with the faint light from the embers and slowly expanded over the entire disaster area.

And then, in no time…

…Rustle!

Drawn by the warm heat and delicious aroma, the prey fell into the trap.

Swoosh!

HighBro, MiddleBro, and LowBro half-drew their waist knives. Granola, who had put away his magic book and wand, also showed a tense expression on his face.

“…”

Only Vikir remained calmly hidden behind the thicket, keeping an eye on the campfire.

Gradually…

…Crunch!

Someone, lured by the scent, pushed through the bushes and revealed themselves. They looked exhausted and worn-out, with torn clothes covered in leaves and ashes.

Upon seeing the visitor’s face, the expressions of HighBro, MiddleBro, LowBro, and Granola turned into astonishment. Even Vikir, too, was surprised.

And then…

The voice that came from beyond the thicket, though tinged with fatigue, still retained a youthful innocence.

“Hmm… What’s this smell?”

It was Dolores.