The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 299: Age of War Enthusiasts (1)

With the conclusion of the ranking battles for the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd-year students, the final exams at the Colosseo Academy have come to an end. Now, the students, along with their parents, proceeded to the auditorium for the closing ceremony.

From there, it’s straight into the vacation. After brief consultations regarding academic achievements over the past year, students can return home with their parents.

A multitude of people, including students, professors, and parents, gathered in the central auditorium of the Colosseo Academy. Among the crowd, certain individuals stood out prominently.

A colossal figure towering close to 3 meters, clad in the fearsome hide of a sea lion, turned inside out. On his back, he wielded a spear as large as a harpoon. He had beastly golden hair and a cheerful demeanor.

“Son! Congratulations on your victory! Your old man can’t stop laughing!”

Cervantes Donquixote, the head of the Donquixote Clan, the spear king, congratulated his son, Tudor, with a hearty laughter.

Right beside him, a gloomy voice interjected, “Are you deliberately talking so loudly?”

Despite being slender, with features comparable to Cervantes, a tall stature, a corpse-like pallor, large yet ominous eyes, bloodless thin lips, and long, spiderweb-like hair.

Roderick Usher, the head of the Usher House, the Bow Demon.

He glanced briefly at his daughter Bianca following which he fixed his gaze back on Cervantes.

“Congratulations on your son’s victory, Cervantes. Though I’m not sure if his victory is worth celebrating.”

“What did you say? Every victory is worth celebrating. Are you complaining because your daughter settled for second place in front of my son? Huh? You’re such a sore loser.”

“Sore loser? No way. Surely not.”

Usher opened his mouth toward Bianca trailing behind him.

“Daughter, tell me clearly why you withdrew in the last moments..”

“Yes, father.”

Bianca followed Usher’s gaze.

There stood Tudor, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“I don’t enjoy showing off in front of the audience. It’s not like we’re performing monkeys in front of a street vendor.”

“What! A monkey!!! So why have you been fighting to the best of your abilities all this time?”

“…Are you really that clueless? Until the finals, we fought privately within the school. But for the finals, even though our parents were spectators. I didn’t want to flaunt my family’s archery skills to those with no understanding.”

So, in a crucial moment, Bianca skillfully dodged Tudor’s spear and gracefully retreated, choosing to forfeit outside the ring.

Roderick chuckled.

“Haha, Monkey in front of a street vendor. Be careful with your expressions, daughter. Remember, there is a legal offense for defamation.”

“Yes, father. The law is a stern thing, so it must be obeyed.”

Usher and Bianca rushed towards the main auditorium, with the attendants following suit.

Left behind, Cervantes, Tudor, and Donquixote’s attendants all snorted, almost synchronized.

“Stay right there! Hey, Usher bastards! Arrogant Monkies, you said?! How about a showdown with me right here?! Yoo-hoo!”

“Bianca! You…! No wonder you forfeited so anticlimactically! Come here! Let’s go at it again!”

Both father and son were the same.

However, the surrounding people quickly shifted their attention elsewhere.

Besides the notable figures of Usher and Donquixote, there were many other remarkable individuals.

For instance, the head of the Reviadon Clan, Hopps de Reviadon, and his youngest son, Granola de Reviadon.

Quovadis Clan – Pope Nabokov I Quabadis and Saintess Dolores L Quovadis.

Baskerville Clan – Lord Osiris Le Baskerville, and his half-siblings: HighBro Le Baskerville, Middlebro Le Baskerville, and Lowbro Le Baskerville. Apparantly Lord Hugo came as well, but he left to do some work.

Each Clan wields power comparable to a nation, supporting the empire, and forming the seven pillars.

Except for the Bourgeois Clan and the Morg Clan, the leaders of all other families were gathered here, creating a truly spectacular scene.

Meanwhile, the crowd, enclosed by magical barriers and trees, finally reached the auditorium. The preparations for the professors’ speeches were already complete. The vice principal’s speech, followed by the principal’s speech. After presenting commendations to the top students of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd years, the event would conclude. Excitement filled the air as everyone anticipated the upcoming vacation.

Eventually, Professor Banshee stepped forward onto the stage.

“Hello, students, faculty, and parents. I am Banshee Morg, the vice principal of Colosseo Academy.”

Professor Banshee, with serpent-like eyes, surveyed the faces of the gathered crowd below the stage.

‘The influence of the principal faction is minimal. Principal Winston is incompetent and has left his position vacant for a long time; he’ll likely fall soon. If so, the next principal is undoubtedly me.’

It was only natural for Professor Banshee to make such a judgment. Since assuming the role of vice principal, he had consistently recruited loyal professors to his side – the so-called “vice principal faction.”

Under the stage, the number of professors aligned with the principal faction was extremely low. It seemed they were being suppressed by the momentum of the vice principal faction, unable to voice their opinions.

And this power struggle among the professors was affecting the students as well.

Unofficial organizations like the Clan faction and the noble faction were distributing the top-tier students. However, they were undoubtedly influential forces, and their positions were under the vice principal faction.

On the other hand, the officially recognized organization under the less influential principal faction was the “student council.”

Students supported by the vice principal’s noble and aristocratic factions, the professors of the principal faction who couldn’t assert themselves properly, and the student council.

Professor Banshee could easily grasp the entire power structure.

Eventually, the student council president and the top student in the 3rd year, Dolores, appeared before him.

She wore a tired expression from the continued exertion over the past few days.

Professor Banshee, observing Dolores, couldn’t help but sneer inwardly.

‘Unfortunately, this is how it goes for adults. The circumstances of children are inevitably influenced by those of adults.’

Professor Banshee thought such thoughts as he shifted his gaze elsewhere.

“…!”

His eyes widened slightly for a moment.

A vacant spot appeared among the already scarce professors of the principal faction.

It was obvious who was missing from this important event.

‘Professor Sadi. This woman is really…’

Professor Banshee was beyond words.

Did that crazy eccentric professor really skip even one of the most important events of the academy?

Why would Principal Winston want to keep such a trouble maker with him?

Out of people, the principal faction may feel regret for each professor, but… it’s different when dealing with this habitual mischief-maker.

Professor Banshee was sincerely curious. Why would Principal Winston persistently keep such a troublemaker within the school?

Respect for the bloodline of the once-noble Marquis Sade? Or the strong tracking skills of Professor Sadi? Or perhaps the numerous criminals she had arrested over the years? … Maybe just to fill a headcount?

‘No, that’s not it.’

Professor Banshee recalled a recent report from his informant.

‘Principal Winston seems to value Professor Sadi for his involvement in the ’47 Person incident.’

While the report was mere speculation based on circumstantial evidence, the fact that such an event was mentioned was a serious matter in itself.

‘These principal faction people. What on earth are they up to?’

Professor Banshee glanced coldly at the side of the stage. There, Principal Winston was shaking hands with students with his usual mild expression. What could be read from that innocent expression?

With a short sigh, Professor Banshee finally spoke from the stage.

“To all the attendees gathered at Colosseo, I offer words of love and respect. In our academy this time…”

He delved into retrospective tales of how many graduates secured stable jobs, achieved noble academic accomplishments, and became remarkable individuals. The stories revolved around results and achievements.

“Colosseo Academy’s students may emotionally dislike their strict parents and teachers, but these individuals are valuable guides, teaching their children and disciples the strength and wisdom to overcome hardships and challenges that lie ahead. Now, for those students just entering the school and those soon leaving, you have all worked hard for a year.”

Some students teared up at these words. Professor Banshee, with a stern yet warm voice, continued his speech.

“May you always have tasks at hand, spare change in your wallets, paths appearing at your feet, the ability to quickly make enemies and even more quickly make friends, respect from neighbors, and ignorance from those who wish you harm. May the wind always blow at your backs and the sun shine on your faces, and if it rains on your journey, may a rainbow appear soon. may you always be blessed with love and adoration. May you be poor in misfortune and rich in blessings. I hope that the saddest day you will ever have is better than the happiest day you have had so far. And may your destinies be filled with peace, love, hope, prosperity, accomplishment, and satisfaction..”

With this, Professor Banshee concluded his speech with a brief (or not so brief) speech. The applause from students erupted loudly, especially from those supported by the noble and aristocratic factions.

Continuing the atmosphere, Principal Winston stepped onto the stage.

.

He looked around at the students with a bright smile that belied his age.

[“The Vice principal said such kind words, I feel pressured. Haha, I should have prepared a good speech too, but oh well.”]

Amidst the audience, light laughter echoed in the auditorium.

Soon after, Winston began his solemn speech with a serious expression and tone.

[“It might be a common piece of advice, but… I want to say to all of you, give your best in every moment.”]

He looked around with a compelling gaze and continued.

[“Some of you may know, but I’ve been away from the school for the past few months. Due to a mana surge, my health deteriorated significantly.”]

Winston’s long absence as principal had allowed Banshee to skip a lot of formalities and step right into the position of vice principal, and he had now pushed aside the principal faction and was almost in complete control of the academy.

Parents, teachers, and senior students were well aware of this intricate power structure, so they nodded silently.

In the midst of this, Winston spoke more sincerely and with a touching voice.

[“I understand the pain. How precious health is, and the value of each moment. Not knowing when we might die, we must live each moment to the fullest.”]

He addressed the students in the front row.

[“This applies to everyone, not just heroes like soldiers or firefighters who risk their lives. Even just you, at any moment, slipping in the shower and hitting your head on the tub could be fatal. Eating your favorite seafood and falling ill, or getting hit by a falling potted plant, or even a sudden mana surge. These are all aspects of being human.”]

The atmosphere among the students became slightly tense at the principal’s words.

[“Humans can’t predict when they will die. That’s why we must live each moment to the fullest. Even during the upcoming vacation, don’t forget the preciousness of life and time. Live a life without regrets, even if you were to die tomorrow, no, even at this very moment…!”]

At that moment,

…Thunk!

A small sound reverberated.

The sound of thin skin tearing and the squishy contents bursting.

The sound was not loud, and the time it reached their ears was extremely short.

…Yet it was enough to make everyone in the auditorium momentarily hold their breath,

[…Cough!]

A burst of bloody fluid erupted from Principal Winston’s mouth.

Something protruded from behind the stage, piercing through Winston’s back and jutting out from his heart.

A knife? No, it was too long for that.

Then a spear? No, it was too limp.

Long, and wriggling like a snake.

…Whoosh!

Spraying a fountain of blood from Winston’s chest and back, what emerged was a single ‘whip.’