Episode 120 The Hunt for the Second Son (1)

In a darkened cave.

A man sits alone in a training hall on the outskirts of the Baskerville estate.

Set les Baskervilles. Hugo’s second son.

He is reading a letter delivered by a three-eyed raven.

“……hmm. So, Vikir, he left for the Academy, huh?”

Set closed the letter.


Then the parchment on which the words were written burned away.

The flames were black and vivid.

Set opened his closed eyes.

For a moment, each eyeball seemed to turn in a different direction, and then only a stark blackness filled her orbit.

“but. I’d rather not have it. There was a lot of room to get in the way when the family was swallowed up.”

Set smirked and leaned his head against the wall.

As he did, a dark, giant shadow fell across the rock face.

“It was bad enough having to deal with Hugo, Osiris, and the Seventh Count, but now you’ve got that little bastard. I should have killed him in the depth. Alas, I should have done it when I let the viper loose in the cradle in the first place, because of that stupid mother and nanny bitch.”

Set mulled this over, and then, in a fit of nervousness, reached out to the side.

There was a frightened-looking child.

“Huh, Patroness, where am I?”

“Umm. Don’t worry. This is the house you’re going to live in.”

“Eh? Ha, but the nursery director said I would be adopted by a good home…… but this is a scary cave!”

The cave was dark as far as the eye could see, and filled with a foul stench that made it hard to stand for more than a moment.

Set tugged on the child’s arm and chuckled.

“A cave? Alas, you mean here. There must be some misunderstanding, but of course this is not your home.”

At Set’s words, the child’s expression relaxed, if only briefly.


“This is where you will go.”

At the same time, Set’s mouth dropped open as he looked into the child’s face.

A row of razor-sharp teeth sprouted from its gaping mouth.

A single large eyeball in its hood flashed across the child’s face with a horrifying crackle.

Before the child had time to scream, Set swallowed its head in one gulp.

…Woodchuck! Woodchuck!

The child’s shadow twists miserably against the cave’s rocky walls.

The blood splattered on the walls quickly lost its color, and the last warm breath sank into the depths of the abyss.

Set wiped his mouth a few times before stripping the bones off and tossing them to the floor.

“Human fluids are the most delicious, I can’t get enough of them. Maybe we should start a collective and breed them.”

Set looked at the bones on the floor and smirked.

In the darkness, a mountain of bones had already piled up on the pitch-black floor, emitting a foul stench.

The smell of decaying flesh, Set wrinkled his nose and made a happy face.

“Mmm. The scent of home. Home sweet home.”

Set flopped down on a pile of bones.

Just then.

A three-eyed raven opened its mouth.

[Hey, Ten, how’s things going?]

“Ugh, what a surprise.”

Set spat out the bones he had been gurgling in anger.

The raven shines its three eyeballs and says.

[We must open the ‘gate’ to open a new era. The dawn of a new era is just around the corner. You haven’t forgotten, have you?]

“I see. Keep an eye on the others, I’m not the only one, what are you doing?”

[I can’t be bothered with you for the time being, I have one more human to pay attention to].

“Another human to pay attention to, Eight, yourself?”

[More like you].

Set frowned at the raven’s words.

“By human I’m paying attention to, do you mean Vikir? It’s in Morg where the Eight are infiltrating. ……If so?

When asked who the newest up-and-comers in Morg were, Set quickly found the answer.

“You mean the newest member of the Dark Faction? What’s his name, Camus? Why?”


The crow didn’t answer. Instead, he gave Set a pincushion.

[I won’t answer unnecessary questions. Also, have you guys been eating too many human fluids lately? There have been too many kidnappings and missing infants around town. The dogs of Baskerville have good noses, so be careful not to give them away].

“Don’t worry, I’m doing a good job of staying undetected. I’ve never been disturbed.”

[I’m a little concerned about all the bones in the cave. What if someone breaks in?]

“Don’t worry. The cave is wired so that only demons and human fluids under the age of eight can enter. No one will find it.”

The raven nodded, finally relieved. And he ended the conversation at will.

[For the destruction of humans. For the Ten Commandments.]

With that, the magic emanating from the raven’s eyeballs faded. The raven fell to the ground and died.

“Still talking out of your ass, you asshole.”

Set crushed the crow’s corpse with his foot as if it was a nuisance.

“Damn it. I’m still a long way from building up enough magicpower to open the gate. I wonder how much human blood I’ll have to suck before I can. At this rate, I’ll be waiting at least another decade.”

Set grumbled, flashing his demonic glare.

His cunning brain calculated the amount of mana needed for the plan and the time it would take to gather it.

Twelve and a half years, to be exact.

That’s at least as long as he needs to hide in the human realm.

Only then could he create a giant gate between the demonic and human realms, setting the stage for the Great War.

“We must open the Age of Destruction as soon as possible. …… Alas, it’s a thrill to think about.”

Set squeals with delight at the thought of the inferno and the devastation of the human world to come.

The thrill seemed to last for quite some time.

“Open what?”

……if it weren’t for the unwelcome intruder who suddenly burst into the cave.

In an instant, Set jumped to his feet.


He didn’t even feel the intruder.

No flow of mana, no concentration of magic, not even a sound.

Set was horrified to see the face of the man who had entered the cave.

Vikir. Vikir Van Baskerville. It was his brother, the one Set had been watching so closely.

“Uh, what happened to you? Weren’t you going to the Academy?”

“I’m going, but not before I see your face.”

Vikir replied in a nonchalant tone and stood in front of Set.

Set squinted and stared at the man before him.

He could smell the extremely faint but unmistakable scent of magic on Vikir, especially around the wrist of his right hand.

“So you were able to break through the crystal?”

Set stretched out his mind to see the crystals.

There were marks on the grid where a drumstick had been torn with something like an awl.

There was a distinct crack, small enough for only a Vikir to fit through.

Meanwhile, Vikir looked into Set’s eyes.

The irises were eyeless, filled with blackness, and the demon’s signature magic radiated from their sockets.

“You don’t even bother to hide your identity anymore.”

“Not since you’ve discovered the scene.”

Set shrugged at Vikir’s question.

Then, seeing the remains of the children on the ground, Vikir swallowed hard.

In a previous life, he had been framed and executed for this horrific crime. It was a futile end, even after the Age of Destruction had ended.

And now, the man who had framed him was laughing in his face.

Because of him, Vikir had been deceived countless times, had come close to death many times, and had actually died.

Pomeranian also lost his family and had a difficult childhood.

Hugo and Baskerville’s misfortunes were also caused by this creature.

Set Les Baskervilles. No, something under his skin.

Vikir gave a short warning to the enemy in front of him.

“Don’t laugh.”

But Set let out an even louder mockery.

“Pufu-fufufuhehehe… … little brother I don’t know how you came to know about this place, but I can’t believe that you have the confidence of an intermediate graduator. You are too arrogant.”

Set snatched his flamberg from his waistband.

Suddenly, the aura of an advanced Graduator began to envelope the sword.

With a dark smile, Set swung the sword at Vikir.

At that moment.


A short blood-curdling sound resounded.

Set could only stare in horror as he realized what had just happened.



There was the sound of something falling to the ground.

It was the left arm that wasn’t holding the sword.

Blood was gushing out of the neatly cut off left arm.


Set looked up, dazed, and saw Vikir’s sword coming at him.

The magic sword Beelzebub. And the seven teeth it depicts.

The Seven Deadly Sins of Baskerville.

But it was something else that stunned the set before them.

An aura as sticky as nectar and as red as blood.

A step up from a Graduator to peer into the realm of a Master.

The aura of a peak Graduator was exploding!

“Don’t laugh.”

That was the last thing Vikir said before he tore the skin from both sides of Set’s mouth.