The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

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Chapter 154: The Drinking Game (3)

Click!

The female dormitory supervisor, responsible for the girls’ dorm, opened the door and peered into the room. “Something seems strange? I thought I heard something.”

Inside the quiet room, with the window dimly lit by the moon, there were just some thick clouds drifting slowly across the sky.

Various sounds…

If you listened carefully, you could hear quiet breathing.

The supervisor cautiously looked around the room to ensure the students weren’t awake.

…

Everyone was quietly lying on their beds, their heads covered with blankets. Nothing seemed amiss, so the supervisor scratched her head in confusion.

“Did I hear wrong?”

But she wouldn’t know. She would never know that she didn’t hear wrong.

In fact, at this moment, some rather peculiar scenes were unfolding within the cocoon-like blankets in which everyone was hiding.

“Hey, move away a bit. You’re too close.”

“How can I move away? Do you want to get expelled together?”

Under the blankets, Bianca was lying with the blanket pulled over her head, and right below her, Tudor was lying rigidly, practically on top of her.

The two of them were engaged in a fierce, silent struggle, despite their usual animosity.

They heard their hearts pounding so loudly that they thought they’d be heard. They were clutching each other to keep their emotions in check.

“Argh! Why did you have to end up on my bed of all places?”

“The situation was dire, and I had no choice!”

“It’s gross, so stop whispering in my ear. Your breath is hitting my ear!”

“Shh! We might get caught!”

Tudor and Bianca pushed their hearts to their limit as they huddled together, trying to restrain their rising panic.

They both raised their heads and noticed the shadow of the supervisor, illuminated faintly by the moonlight, drawing closer on the other side of the white blanket.

“Ugh!”

Tudor and Bianca both jumped in shock as the supervisor’s shadow approached them.

The normally contentious pair clung to each other, making the previously unusually tall blanket bunch up a bit lower.

And this phenomenon was common to all the other beds in the room.

Meanwhile, Dolores, lying under her bed with the blanket pulled over her head, was reflecting on the recent turn of events.

Where had it all gone wrong? How had everything ended up like this?

Just seconds before the door had opened, she had hurriedly jumped into her bed, snuffed out all the candles, and drawn the blanket over herself.

Everything had happened in the blink of an eye.

The original residents of the room, female students, had rushed into their own beds, and the closest male students had followed them onto those beds. Once everyone was under the covers, the lights went out.

Dolores, with her extraordinary observational skills and memory, could recall exactly which male student had followed which female student into the beds. She knew the lights had gone out just as the couples had settled in their respective beds.

Clearly, Tudor had gone into Bianca’s bed, Figgy into Sinclaire’s bed, and Sancho into…

However, the female and male ratios worked out such that one female student had to hide a male student. That meant…

“Who’s on my bed?”

Dolores remembered the face of the male student who had been closest to her.

Vikir.

As she thought about his indifferent expression, Dolores’s face suddenly turned bright red. Vikir was going to enter her bed soon.

She didn’t know what to do in this situation she had never experienced before. Dolores grabbed the corner of the blanket, and her hands became moist.

…

…

But why wasn’t Vikir getting into her bed even after some time had passed?

Ironically, Dolores was the one feeling anxious as the crucial moment neared. The dorm supervisor might enter at any moment, so what was he doing in such a hurry?

“…?”

Dolores lowered the blanket slightly and looked outside the bed, while Vikir stood silently, staring at the corner of the ceiling.

“It’s time.”

The youngsters were moderately drunk and having a good time. Now, everyone would either lie down in their beds and sleep or return to the dormitory.

Vikir seized this opportunity to escape through the hole in the ceiling, planning to assassinate Quilt. He figured he had already built a sufficient alibi at this point.

“Since I’m going to disappear anyway, I guess they’ll just get scared and head back to the boys’ dormitory,” he thought.

So Vikir chose this moment to disappear, avoiding everyone’s gaze. Just as he was about to leap towards the ceiling…

“What are you doing right now?”

A hand grabbed Vikir’s clothing.

It was Saint Dolores. She had a bewildered look and was pulling Vikir with her swirling eyes.

“Uh?”

Dolores herself was so flustered that even Vikir seemed equally surprised. With a face covered in cold sweat, and swirling eyes, she grabbed Vikir’s clothing and dragged him into her own blanket.

“Wait, just a mome…”

Vikir didn’t have time to say anything in his defense. The blanket was abruptly pulled over them, and he ended up lying on top of Dolores.

And at that moment…

Creak…

The door opened, and the supervisor entered the room.

* * *

“Did I mishear something?”

The supervisor’s voice came from outside the blanket, near the head.

Dolores felt her eyes spinning and screamed inwardly, ‘No! You heard it right! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!’

Underneath her, Vikir was lying flat, and they were so close that their noses almost touched.

Vikir let out a quiet sigh, realizing that he was wasting time in this situation. If he missed this opportunity, he might not get another chance to assassinate Quilt. He had already created a sufficient alibi.

However, Vikir’s sigh seemed to hold a different meaning for Dolores.

“It’s hot!” The feeling of someone’s breath near her ear made it burn. The alcohol from earlier seemed to be taking its toll, and she was sweating and feeling bloated.

Dolores inwardly begged, ‘Please, just go away!’

But the supervisor, oblivious to the desires of everyone in the room, continued to look around.

“Hmm, it’s a bit dry in here. I hope our academy’s volunteers don’t have sore throats. Should I sprinkle some water on the floor?”

“The window is rattling in the wind. Someone who can’t sleep in a bright room might wake up.”

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“Is the room temperature suitable? I hope it’s not too cold for anyone. Since everyone is sleeping with their blankets pulled tightly, are they feeling cold?”

The supervisor’s warm considerations paradoxically added to the torment of everyone in the room.

Especially for Dolores, who was trying to hold in her urine beneath the blanket. She couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Please, leave quickly!’

However, the supervisor either didn’t know or didn’t care about the wishes of the room’s occupants. She kept inspecting the room.

“Uh, it’s a bit chilly. How about adjusting the heating? It’s a bit warm in here, and I hope no one is feeling too hot with their blankets.”

The supervisor’s words were causing more distress.

In the midst of this, Vikir was at a loss when Dolores’s insistent grip on his waist made him pause. He couldn’t understand the reason behind her sudden action.

Dolores raised her hands and gripped Vikir’s back, pleading desperately in her mind, “Please don’t move!”

She couldn’t speak, but her eyes begged him not to change his position. Any movement from Vikir would lead to a drastic change in their situation due to the urgent circumstances.

Vikir, unable to comprehend the situation fully, hesitated for a moment but eventually decided to move. As he lifted himself away from Dolores, he felt her grip loosen slightly.

Dolores, who was feeling the unbearable urge to urinate, had used her last bit of strength to beg for Vikir’s stillness.

She needed the slightest relief from the intense pressure building up inside her. She prayed that Vikir had noticed her silent plea. Vikir was aware of something, but he couldn’t understand it entirely.

With a light breath, he tried to adjust himself, believing that she might have felt uncomfortable. But as he moved away…

Thump!

A loud sound echoed as a palm slammed against the bedpost just above Dolores’s head.

The supervisor, standing right in front of Dolores’s bed, had delivered the striking blow.

All in the room froze in silence, shocked by the sudden loud noise. Dolores, who had heard the sound up close, was the most stunned.

The shadow of the supervisor, cast by the moonlight, was so close that it almost touched her.

Had they been discovered? Was their secret exposed?

In the silence that felt like an eternity, everyone waited for the inevitable.

…….

Before long, the supervisor muttered to herself, “…Oh? Is it because it’s hot? Mosquitoes in this weather.”

She raised her hand and quickly retracted it as if she realized something. “Oh my, get a grip of yourself. Oops, I made such a loud noise. I apologize to the volunteers.”

The supervisor bowed several times to the sleeping girls and quickly left the room. The door closed with a thud, and the sound of the supervisor’s footsteps faded into the distance.

After a brief silence, the blankets on the beds began to be lifted one by one.

“Phew, I thought we got caught.”

“I was really scared. That’s why I cried a little.”

“This is too thrilling, seriously. Haha!”

Male and female students gradually sat up on their beds and spoke.

…

…

Some of them stared at each other like Tudor and Bianca, their faces turning red, but most of them seemed to consider it a fun situation.

…However.

There was one person here for whom this incident was not enjoyable.

“! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !”

Saint Dolores, the academy’s student council president.

Despite the supervisor leaving, she was the only one who couldn’t bring herself to get out from under the blanket.

‘What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

Cold sweat poured down like rain, her eyes rolled, and her vision flickered.

…She messed up. She really messed up.

A warm, moist sensation was already rising from her lower half. It was so overwhelming that it couldn’t be denied as just sweat or moisture.

And to make matters worse, the color of that liquid was just perfect…

If only she had thrown away her own bed, blanket, and clothes, it wouldn’t have mattered, but the fact that she had completely soaked Vikir’s pants, which had been tightly stuck to her, meant there was no way to hide it.

What about the smell?

What would happen if this fact became known to the outside world?

The dignified and compassionate image she had built up until now would be completely shattered.

About two more years until graduation. It was obvious what kind of nickname would stick with her during that time.

“The Bedwetter.”

It was pitiful. Dolores would probably suffer for years because of this nickname.

Was this going to have a negative impact on the honor of the Quovadis Clan? It could be a great excuse for internal feuds within the family.

Dolores foresaw a negative future and burst into tears.

So why? Even though all the other students had thrown off their blankets and left their beds, she was still curled up under the blanket.

Maybe she didn’t know how to face Vikir, who was on top of her right now.

…And at that very moment.

Rip!

The blanket was forcefully pulled away.

Vikir pushed Dolores away and came out of bed.

No hesitation, no mercy.

“Oh!”

Dolores thought it was really the end. Now Vikir would express disgust about being dirty, and the atmosphere in the room would quickly become awkward. The mood was completely ruined, and countless gossip would be generated.

Her mind was spinning around.

The cold sweat had already drenched her whole body.

Her body was hot, and her tongue wouldn’t obey her.

“…Should I just jump out the window?”

Dolores looked out the window and even had extreme thoughts.

But there was one word that suddenly brought her back to her senses.

“The drinking party is now over.”

Vikir’s deep and firm tone grabbed everyone’s attention. Tudor retrieved a remaining bottle of alcohol from under the bed and looked puzzled.

“What are you talking about? The night is just beginning! The drinking games start now!”

“No. It ends here.”

“…?”

Vikir was so assertive like this for the first time, so Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy all looked at each other with surprised expressions.

Then, Vikir threw off the blanket completely and stepped forward in front of everyone.

His pants were damp and had turned yellow. The sight of it made everyone’s eyes widen as if they were about to pop out.

Naturally, the gazes that had been focused on Vikir’s lower half shifted toward Dolores’s lower half on the bed.

Similarly, the bed and the blanket were both damp and had turned yellow. The expressions of all the men and women in the room were filled with shock.

Dolores, seeing all their eyes falling upon her like arrows, covered her face with both hands.

She felt her self-esteem, despair, shame, self-reproach, helplessness, and screams all swirling endlessly within her.

…

…But right at that moment, there was a lifeline to catch Dolores as she fell into the abyss.

“I drank a lot of alcohol and wet myself.”

It was Vikir’s hand.

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