The Return of the Ir Chapter 70: Blood Relatives (4)

Chapter 70: Blood Relatives (4)

"Why is this person here...."

does it co out?

Vikir stared at the portrait for a while in disbelief.

But no matter how you look at it, it's the sa old Hugo.

Black hair, piercing eyes, blade-like bridge of the nose, strong jaw, no mustache yet. How could you not recognize this face?

What is it? Why is Hugo's portrait here?

As Vikir stares in disbelief, Porian sneaks up on him and tugs on the pendant's string.

With what little strength he has, the tug seems to be a request for the pendant to be returned.

Vikir hands the pendant back to Porian and asks.

"Who are these people in the painting, and what do they have to do with you?"

The Poranian flinched at the stern tone, as if interrogating a criminal.

Vikir spoke a little softer, wanting to be gentle.

"Who are the people in the picture, and what do they have to do with you?"

The words were different, but the tone was the sa.

The harshness of the tone made the Poranian shiver uneasily.

Then Aiyen stepped forward.

"If you ask

like that, the I will not give you a good answer."

"...? What did I do?"

"You should ask her with a smile."

Aiyen's point made Bikir pause for a mont.

Then a wicked grin spread across his face.

"Who are the people in the painting?"

The Poranian looked up, looking less frightened than he had earlier.

"Oh, yes, it's working. You were right...."

Vikir turned his head toward Aiyen.

A mont.

"...?"

Vikir's eyes caught Aiyen's blank expression.

She stood there for a mont, looking into Vikir's face, before she snapped out of it.

"Slave, did you expect

to laugh so hard?"

"...."

Vikir imdiately frowned.

He hadn't smiled widely since he was born, so it was no wonder he was being teased.

Then. The Poranian answered.

"Mama. Grandpa. Grandma."

Vikir's mouth dropped open at the words.

His head spun rapidly.

A pendant, a faded portrait, decades old. Hugo Les Baskervilles and an unidentified young woman and a little girl. A mother and grandmother and grandfather, the Poranian said.

"...What?

Vikir had a theory.

Hugo in the pendant is young. And the young woman next to him was probably his wife.

And the daughter they had together, the first born.

What if that eldest daughter was kidnapped by the Rococo tribe, and the child she bore here was a Poranian?

'Co to think of it, I've heard that Hugo's personality wasn't always as cold as it is now.'

I don't know much about Hugo Les Baskerville when he was in the ecliptic before he ca to the Fringes, as Vikir was not yet born.

But I had once heard a rumor from old Deacon Barrymore that Hugo had once been very friendly and hoy.

'I thought it was nonsense at the ti and shrugged it off.

Vikir takes a mont to recall the history of the Baskervilles.

Once based near the ecliptic, the Baskervilles had moved far to the west of the empire, to the fringes of the Red and Black Mountains, not because of a demotion.

Hugo Les Baskerville had gone before the Emperor and requested that the entire House of Baskerville move to the fringes.

The reason for this was the death of his first wife in childbirth, and the barbarians who had taken his first daughter, whom he loved dearly.

This caused Hugo to hate his enemies and the barbarians beyond the Black Mountains with a passion, and he cared for his wife and children little afterward.

After this series of events, he beca an extrely cold and calculating killer, living only for the slaughter of demons and barbarians.

The Emperor deed him competent and entrusted him with the task of expanding the empire's borders, and Hugo threw himself even more into his work to forget everything.

That's how Baskerville, Ironblade, was born.

And now. A rejected hound of the Ironborn has found an unexpected ally here.

Poranian. Poranian la Baskerville.

Penelope, the daughter of Roxana, the woman Hugo had loved more than anything else in his life.

And Penelope's daughter, Porian.

This ans that, if my guess is correct, the girl in front of

is the direct granddaughter of Hugo Les Baskerville.

'... That makes

an uncle.'

It was a strange feeling.

Even now, nieces and nephews were being born sowhere, but none of them were girls.

This is a Baskerville family where daughters are extrely rare.

Co to think of it, there was not a single daughter in Hugo's direct bloodline.

Not even in the entire family.

There are plenty of sons.

"Anyway, Hugo, he's the kind of man who only looks for sons and grandsons because he thinks n are more useful in battle.

What do you think Hugo, the extre warlord, the fighting demon, the man who sees his children as nothing more than tools, would do if he saw this tiny, delicate granddaughter?

Vikir shook her head.

No matter how I think about it, I can't think of anything but negativity.

And with barbarian blood in the mix, he might not be so pleased.

Vikir reached out and placed his hand on top of the Poranian's head.

The Poranian flinched slightly, but didn't shy away as he had earlier.

Vikir spoke in a low voice.

"Apparently, the Rococo tribe has not been treated well either."

"...."

"Co with ."

If the Rococo tribe had been devastated by the plague and left, Porian could not remain here.

But Porian stood firm, clinging to the pillars of the barracks.

Vikir looked up and saw the reason for the Poranian's reluctance to leave.

It was the crude stone tomb behind him.

As Vikir pondered what to do, Aiyen stepped forward.

She bowed her head once in front of the tomb, then spoke to the Poranian.

"When our ancestors leave this world, they go to heaven and beco stars. So will your mother."

"...."

"What lies here in this stone tomb is only a shell, but your mother's spirit is a star in the sky, looking down on you."

"...."

"She wishes you to leave this dreadful place as soon as possible."

Then the Poranian raised his head. He seed to understand not only the Imperial language, but Balak's words as well.

The Porian pondered for a mont, then released his grip on the barracks' pillars.

He takes a step toward Vikir.

Black hair, red eyes.

Vikir and Porian looked exactly alike.

Porian looked at Vikir and said.

"Mommy. The hair. Eyes. The color. It's the sa."

"Yeah. All Baskerville dogs look alike."

Vikir picked up the Poranian.

It was the first eting of uncle and nephew.

* * *

Afterward, Porian ca to Balak's village.

"Uncle. Where are you going?"

She clung to Vikir's leg, unwilling to pull away, which was quite a challenge for a child who was used to being alone.

"Uncle has to go to a eting, the chieftain has summoned him."

"Aang. Uncle. I'll go with you."

Porian seed scared to be alone.

Now that she had left her mother's stone tomb, she realized that she was truly alone.

That's why she seed to rely more on Vikir, who had the sa hair color and eye color as her mother.

"...I can't help it."

Vikir quickly picked up the Porian and carried him on his back.

He looked around for sothing that could be used as a swaddle, and a thick, coarse pelt caught his eye.

It was an oxbear pelt, given to

by the chieftain himself as a reward for our successful trade.

He wondered what he was going to use the pelt for, but he realized it was for a swaddling bag.

Vikir carried the Poranian on his back and went outside.

"I'll have to ask the Chihuahua to do it for

... later."

He couldn't keep this girl in Balak's village.

Even if he didn't send her to Hugo, she would have to be raised sowhere out of his sight, at least within the reach of Imperial civilization.

Vikir made plans to get out of the water and into the city later.

"Maybe I'll pay a visit to Morg, too."

It might be worth spying on the alliance with Baskerville to see how it was going.

While Vikir pondered this, he soon arrived at the barracks of Chieftain Aquila.

Upon entering, he finds Aquila, Aiyen, and the other elders, all wearing serious expressions.

Aiyen and Vikir are witnesses to the eting.

Chief Aquila asks.

"Yes. You an there's a plague going around?"

Aiyen and Vikir nodded.

The report went on to detail how the Rococo tribe had been wiped out, and the state of their remaining villages.

Other hunters also testified to seeing the bodies of orcs, lizardn, and other apes lying on the ground with red spots sprouting from them.

Aquila stroked his chin, a serious expression on his face.

"The rainy season is coming soon, and we're in trouble."

If the plague ca, the damage would be even worse. We had to find a way to prepare.

Then.

"Chief, it's not a plague, it's a curse!"

Shaman Ahheman stepped forward.

He argued that the Red Death was not a disease, but a form of witchcraft that could be cured through sacrifice.

There were a few old elders who agreed with him.

They emphasized that this was the ti for a great ritual, and it was clear that they intended to take advantage of the occasion to greatly increase the authority and power of the shaman.

The young people, on the other hand, said that the Red Death was a plague, not a curse, and that it was ti to abandon the village and move on.

The old and young debated heatedly between superstition and practical solutions.

It didn't seem like it would be easy to decide who was right.

"Hmmm. What shall we do?"

Chieftain Aquila was frowning.

Soone silently raised their hand to speak.

The one who first coined the phrase 'red death'.

"I know how to stop this disease."

It was Vikir.