Twenty-five, fifty, one hundred...
The rapidly climbing name was like a runaway horse, leaving many other names far behind in the dust in just a few leaps.
One hundred and fifty.
Two hundred...
Finally, under the wide-eyed glare of the old priest, whose expression looked as if he had just been forced to eat a piece of crap, it ruthlessly shoved Veronica's name down.
The gilded name finally froze in place:
First place: Lynn von Reinhardt, 295 victory points.
“Is this... that Lynn?”
“Count Landon, where's the footage? Where's the footage?!”
Count Landon Gunier stroked his beard and quickly flipped through Lynn's video records from the past half-day.
Riding his beloved mother wolf to find bears, bombing their nests, beautifully securing the last hits on low-health targets, then riding again to find more bears...
Looking at the uniform “beautiful” scenes in the footage, Landon almost plucked his own chin bald.
No, my dear nephew, your style—why is it so bizarre?
He coughed dryly twice. Facing the unanimous urging of the crowd below, he shamelessly employed the art of editing.
Thus, what appeared on the massive magical screen was—
From a low angle, a giant bear as large as a small building had scorched fur, its hideous wounds bleeding profusely. It roared furiously to shake the heavens, charging recklessly toward the tiny, backlit figure.
Right at the instant the giant claw lunged at Lynn, causing a few noble young ladies to shriek in terror, the blonde youth took a casual step to the side.
The foul, gaping maw barely grazed his side. In the split second before the giant bear could recover its momentum, the silver sword at Lynn's waist was unsheathed with a flourish.
“Clang—”
The dazzling sword light had already plunged into the giant bear's chest, the crisp sound of slicing air only catching up a moment later.
The youth turned around, paying no mind to the giant bear behind him, whose expression was slowly freezing.
With his left hand, he brushed back his wind-blown long hair, and with his right, he deftly spun his sword before sliding it back into its scabbard.
“Thud—”
Behind him, the building-sized giant bear crashed heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
“Ah—Lord Lynn is so handsome!” Ignoring the squeals of the smitten young girls, those who actually knew what they were looking at had solemn expressions.
“A snow-maned bear with combat power comparable to a Tier 3 being defeated so easily...”
“What a beautiful sword technique, that simple thrust just now. Whether it was the timing or the clean execution, it was flawless...” A warrior dressed as a swordsman nodded secretly. “It almost reminds me of... that Sword Fiend who shook the Northern Plains fifteen years ago.”
“And the burn marks on the giant bear—that was fire magic, right?”
“Truly a rare young genius...”
Even Lynn hadn't expected his reputation to shift so drastically among the high society of the Northern Plains in such a short time.
Ultimately, it was because he had shown his “value.” Only with “value” could all flaws be chalked up to the eccentricity of a genius.
Antisocial and overbearing? Ah, geniuses always have a bit of pride~ Understandable, completely understandable!
Slacking off and debaucherous? What do you know? That's the genius's own cultivation rhythm!
There were even some overthinkers who analyzed it even more deeply: The Grand Duke of the North's influence was growing larger and larger, to the point of almost rivaling the imperial family. At this critical juncture, if Lynn, as the next Grand Duke, hadn't acted a bit useless before...
It was a good thing Lynn wasn't there, or he would have slammed the table.
“See that! This is what you call 'the scholars will always find a way to justify my scriptures'!”
...
Meanwhile, Lynn—
Having spent the day bombing bears, he had just dumped all the magic crystals into his magical artifact.
“Oh, after wandering around this icefield for most of the day, I've finally run into a living person~”
The youth in hunting attire before him bowed respectfully. “Benefactor, I am Anger, whom you saved at the banquet. We meet again.”
“Stop, stop, stop—don't call me 'benefactor.' Hearing a grown man call me that feels...”
Pretty disgusting. It's not like you're some beautiful fox-eared girl, are you?
Pausing, Lynn decided not to voice this rather hurtful thought.
“Since you have already joined the Reinhardt family's banner, there's no need for us to be so formal.”
“Yes, Young Master!” Anger replied with a serious face.
Scratching his head in discomfort, Lynn changed the subject. “So... how are your victory points looking? Are you getting used to the competition?”
“Reporting to the Young Master! I have obtained a total of ninety victory points!” At the mention of this, Anger's face lit up with excitement, clearly very satisfied with his results.
“I've been hunting with my father since I was a child, so I have plenty of experience in this area. If you need it, Young Master, I can help you search for traces of nearby magical beasts...”
As he spoke with great enthusiasm, Lynn patted him on the shoulder, looking surprised. “Not bad, Anger! Your victory points are almost a third of mine!”
Anger: ...
Ignoring Anger's silence, Lynn patted the head of the mother wolf beside him. “No need for your help. I already have my own gold-medal guide~ Isn't that right?”
“Awoo~” (Two-legged beast, you have great taste!)
Is Young Master Lynn... communicating with a magical beast?
Anger's eyes widened. During his years of wandering and hunting with his father, in all his self-proclaimed broad experience, he had only ever seen an elven Druid manage such rudimentary communication.
But... that Druid was a Tier 6 powerhouse!
Is this... the Reinhardt family?
Watching the retreating figure of the youth waving his hand as he walked away with the wolves, Anger wanted to speak but stopped, filled with emotion.
Finally, he sighed and lamented, “Young Master Lynn... is truly an extraordinary man!”
After bidding farewell to Anger, Lynn, who was eagerly heading off to find the next bear nest to bomb, soon ran into someone else.
To be precise, a group of people was surrounding and attacking a snow-maned bear that was so old it could barely walk.
This bear was a size smaller than any of the ones Lynn had encountered before, its fur mottled and yellowed, with several bald patches revealing wrinkled gray skin.
This old bear was conservatively estimated to be at least fifteen years old, an age where its teeth would have all fallen out in magical beast terms. It had probably been waiting to die peacefully in its cave before being driven out by these people.
Yet, unlike the old, skin-and-bones bear that could barely move, the people surrounding it were not finishing the fight quickly. Instead, they were fighting in an incredibly pathetic manner.
The spear-wielding vanguard was pacing back and forth in front of the bear, simply not daring to thrust. The archer had fired five or six arrows, half of which were stuck in trees. There was also a young man who looked like a follower mage squatting behind the crowd, holding a magic book with frayed edges. He was chanting spells while sweating profusely, only to summon a palm-sized fireball that was promptly blown out by the wind after chanting for ages.
“...Is this some kind of performance art?”
And the obese noble standing right in the center of this ragtag group, shouting commands at the top of his lungs, was none other than the “old friend” Lynn had “cordially” met not long ago.
“Oh, what a coincidence.”
That funny, freckled fat face was flushed bright red, looking exactly like a boiled potato sprinkled with a handful of sesame seeds.
Who else could it be but Lagut, who had made a massive fool of himself at the banquet?
Rate on N.U.
