A/N: Chapter 2 of Mystical Eye of a Savage Hound. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except my own OC. Revenge of the Sword Clan's Hound belongs to the rightful owner.

Chapter 2: The Dog of Baskervilles

There were only two illegitimate children born to Hugo Le Baskerville: Vikir Van Baskerville and I, his sister Viktoria Van Baskerville. Because I was a last minute surprise, even the medical staff weren't expecting the concubine to give birth to another child, Hugo decided to give the surname 'Van' to both babies instead of 'Ra' or 'Le' that the other half-brothers held; turns out that those with the surname 'Van' were considered trash on the social hierarchy, those with 'Ra' or 'Le' were considered superior. Therefore the clan head considered us both as low life trash, not even bothering to get to know us as we grew older and instead invested his attention to the others.

Because of the surnames that were given, we had to work harder than the others just to get even a sprinkle of the clan head's approval. At eight years old, Vikir possessed talent that could make him what others in the world would call a genius, and in comparison to him I was average; he already felt mana coarse through his body, while I didn't feel my own mana until 10 years later. And the clan members only considered him average, thus I was even lower than that.

At 15 he was able to accumulate one circle of mana, thereby coating his sword in a faint glow of aura. At 20, he began to receive mission that were usually assassinations, gathering intelligence, or subjugation of other races, putting what he learned in practice into earnest. I tagged along beside him when I could, as long as I finished my own assignments, to learn other crafts and hone my own skills no matter how limited I was. Vikir began to distinguish himself with the missions he accumulated, fighting with a ferocity that surpassed even his peers, and achieving a level of swordsmanship that would have taken others decades to reach.

At the age of 29 he fell behind the talent of the main house because of his status as an illegitimate child, the direct descendants began running ahead as soon as they gained practical experience, and soon disappeared so far forward that they could not be seen; I watched my brother spend nights continuously training, even skipping meals just to try and figure out how to surpass himself. It became apparent that our status as illegitimate put a hard limit on how far we could rise within the clan.

At 30 years old the gate that connected to the demon world opened, and the invasion began with countless creatures pouring out with a thirst for violence ad slaughter. We were about as ready as we possibly could, and it was all hands on deck because it is our sworn duty to eliminate the other-worldly threats.

By the time we were 35 years old, we continued to survive the onslaught, doing our best to cut down demons one after another, even our bare bodies began accumulating the practical experience and wounds that scarred. At some point between the climax of the war until the end, after Vikir turned 39 years old I killed him due to the slander and false charges that rose up from within the family. The months that followed until war ended with humanity's win were absolute hell, because I had to fight enemies without him by my side, having my back. It was torture and the feeling of loneliness clawed away at my state of being, leaving me emotionally and mentally fatigued after each fight.

Then when I turned 40 years old, and was able to receive rewards for my loyalty as a hunting dog, I was subjected to the guillotine, perishing underneath the blade because that was how the Baskervilles reciprocated the loyalty both my brother and I displayed.

Urrrrgh, this is…the nursery…. I reopened my eyes, greeted by the ugly ceiling tiles and slight sniffles and whimpers of the other infants. The air was stifling, but at least there wasn't any hint of metallic that blood gave off. That means…! I succeeded in absorbing the Styx! I didn't necessarily remember how long I was out as I rolled over onto my stomach, clenching the sheets with my tiny hands. With this, I'll be able to have a better starting point!

"Has the young master woken up from her slumber?" I turned my head to see one of the nannies peering into the cradle. Her nose was scrunched up, as though she absolutely hated her job looking after one of the non-important children. "Seems to be very lively if you can already crawl around, you must be hungry after your trial." I was lifted out of the cradle with her hands under my armpits, and she held me securely against her bosom using one arm, the other swiftly undoing a couple of buttons.

"Drink up now, but remember there are more mouths after yours so do hurry up." She pressed my head close to access her breast and I latched onto her tit, the taste of milk soon entering my mouth as I sucked greedily. Each nanny had a quota of babies to breastfeed, and each one were aware of how much milk they can produce. Therefore there was always more than one nanny in the room when it is feeding time, and each baby fills up at different amounts. The greedier the baby, the less milk the nanny will have left to feed others, so some nights there were babies who didn't get their fair share.

However, it was very clear to me that even though the children of the Baskervilles are raised together in one room, the mothers would never allow the children to be treated fairly. Some mothers memorized the characteristics of their children well and would tell or bribe the nanny into a longer breastfeeding. This way it weeded out the weaker babies and put them behind of their half-brothers. Of course when it came to me, and Vikir by extension when he was alive, we did not know who our mother was so the nanny who fed us had to set aside all expectations.

As I continued to suckle, I thought about the events of my past life and was reminded of what Hugo did, reminded of the feeling of the guillotine that fell upon my neck. It stoked the revenge fire inside me and I ended gnashing my teeth, effectively startling the nanny who quickly pulled me from her arms.

"Oh, the young master goes through this sometimes. But your teeth could've seriously given me an injury. You wouldn't want to be the reason why your half-brothers go hungry, would you." She put me back in the cradle and stood back up, quickly moving onto the next child. I sprawled out with an expression of contempt, with my belly full of the nanny's milk. Then I noticed something out of the ordinary and watched in silence. A nanny, who should have gone through the door at her usual time once she finished breastfeeding, looked around and darted towards the cradle two rows down from my cradle.

"Come on, youngsters." She whispered, acting as though she was breastfeeding even though the infants had already been fed. The other nannies did not pay any attention, for they were too busy with their own feedings to care about. In their minds they just wanted to get the feedings done so they can go to bed. A simple, one track mind with a single mission.

Her shift already ended...what is she up to? She couldn't possibly miss a couple of mouths to feed, she's the most meticulous of them all. I pondered to myself, trying to think of a reason why the woman came back. Each nanny had her own shift laid out by Hugo himself, and they were trained to be strict with their time in the nursery. When it was time to stop it was time to stop.

"Ugh, to think the Madam would go to this length just to rid of young master Viktoria…" The suspicious nanny from earlier soon made her way to my cradle, nervously glancing around to make sure her actions weren't being noticed by the others.

Hmmmm? Did this event ever happen in my past? I watched in curiosity as a nanny slowly pulled out a rather large box that had be hidden within her clothes, holding the item carefully in her hands. I re-positioned myself so my head was facing towards the woman, watching as she placed the box at the end of the cradle. Also…'Madam'? There are only a few people in the family who hears and obeys the voice of the mistress. Besides, there's practically zero reason for such a high being to ask for a gift to be brought to an illegitimate child like myself…

After fulfilling her duty, the nanny ran out and disappeared as quickly as she came in, not bothering to look back. I lifted my head a little to look at the other infants, noting how the position of my cradle was quite a distance from the others, no doubt separated just for this very moment. The hairs on the back of my neck rose up, a sense of foreboding creeping and settling in. Eventually the box clicked open, the lid opening slowly with some black smoke oozing out as the gift presented itself to me.

A pair of Bloody Mambas, their forked tongues darting in and out to scent the air, their beady eyes soon trained on me. The Bloody Mamba is a venomous snake with a triangular-shaped head, and it was also called the Seven Deadly Deaths because if bitten, one will die before taking seven steps. Rarely found in public places, so I wagered these creatures were dealt with in secrecy.

Two of these rare, poisonous snakes just to assassinate me? This 'Madam' is probably trying to reduce the competition for her own child, there's no doubt in my mind. I kept my eyes on the dangerous reptiles as I recalled many cases of sudden infant deaths that occurred in the nursery. From the moment of their birth, children with extraordinary abilities had always been a rarity, revered, and feared by many. And for good reason, as it seemed that their exceptional gifts came with a dreadful price: a shortened lifespan. With my own life in peril and knowing that the attack is coming from within the family, the unsettling realization left me on edge.

"KAAAAAAASK!" The snakes hissed loudly, baring their fangs at me and slithered closer. Their bloody jaws were already slick with the blood of their previous victims. I knew that if I did not act quickly, the infants in the nursery would be slaughtered, and the Baskervilles would suffer a catastrophe of unprecedented proportions.

Since Vikir doesn't exist there is no such thing as an attachment to the family in this second life. But if the ruin begins with me, then it becomes a problem. Glancing at my hands I slowly felt the corners of my mouth pull and stretch into a smile. I had dealt with reptilian-type monsters, especially those in the shape of snakes, and I was all too aware of their weaknesses.

I may have regressed into my newborn state, but even that is more than enough for these creatures! With practiced ease I caught one viper in each hand, gripping them firmly near the nape of their necks as my eyes glowed with excitement, the violent red with a hint of blue-gray if one looked close enough. The snakes struggled as best they could to pierce me with their fangs, but it was all in vain as my body made full use of the Styx's blessing and rendered their attacks useless.

A light coating of mana covered my whole body, the container that was originally empty had been filled to its limit thanks to me ingesting the river directly with my mouth. My fists began to glow, and the reptiles immediately stiffening in fear, their bodies sensing the presence of a higher predator and trembled. There was sickening noises as their necks broke under the twisting force of my fingers, followed by their bodies; the force was so brutal that both vipers lost all control of their torn, broken bodies, a mixture of blood, excrement, and urine spilled over the sheets. Mouths wide open, eyes bulging, tongues lolling out as their fangs soon began to exude the dangerous poison; it didn't take long before small holes were burnt in the mattress.

The following day, at the loud scream of the first nanny on morning duty who arrived to begin her work, the family guards swiftly gathered in the nursery room. There, they witnessed the bright smile upon my sleeping face, with the two broken-necked reptiles still within my grasp. There were no words to describe the horror the Guardian Knights burned into their memories, and the astonishment that poisonous mambas were discovered near the children.

Within in moments, news of the incident reached Hugo and he immediately ordered the capture of the nannies who were on the night shift. They were tortured and executed for the incident, a new batch of nannies replaced them along with strict surveillance. Despite the efforts made to uncover the culprit who had released the mambas, no one was able to find anything except for one individual.

One young hound who wasn't able to speak at the time, had seen the truth. I sat silently in my cradle, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to pay off my debt. And before I knew it, eight years have passed.

Inside a barren classroom…

"Now, young masters, one last question…." The tutor glances at the group of fairly young hounds as they sat on the ground before him, their eyes focused on the board. After eight years, some of the infants reached their eighth birthday, some of the older ones landed around nine or getting close to 10 years old. As for me, I reached my eight years of living this second life, my shaggy hair reaching just below my ears. One of the main requirements for young hounds were the numerous amounts of classes. "Since we will be learning about the stages of a swordsman how do you distinguish the status of a swordsman?"

"Regardless of the proficiency of swordsmanship, a swordsman who does not know how to imbue mana on a sword is called a 'Sword Beginner'. Once the swordsman is able to imbue a little amount of mana, they are a 'Sword Expert'. When the mana on the swords flow out into what's known as aura that is when the status of 'Sword Graduate' is reached. Finally, when the aura can solidify and can change form based on the will of the wielder that is when a swordsman can be called a 'Sword Master'." I answer is a calm manner, reciting the words of the past since I already learned already.

Of course, all of these statuses are separated for convenience. Basically, combat is affected by numerous factors such as health, terrain, climate, humidity, gravity, experience, and the density of mana in the atmosphere. But it is so much simpler than that: beginner is the lowest level, and the master is the highest level. Therefore, if a beginner fights against an expert then the expert wins. Similarly a graduate is stronger than an expert, and a master dominates everyone.

"Very good." The tutor spoke once I finished answering the question, raising his voice to address the other kids as they turned their attention back to him. "The best of Baskerville, Sir Hugo, is also a 'Sword Master'." That drew out a lot of gasps of amazement from the hounds.

So he already reached the status of 'Sword Master' at this time…. I thought to myself, keeping my expression as neutral as possible to not draw suspicion, but my fingers were already rubbing my chin, an action that indicates that I was in the process of thinking about something. That means I have to recover all my strength from before I regressed, preferably before the coming-of-age ceremony…and I'll have to do it discretely.

Young Master Viktoria is deep in thought again. The tutor mused, adjusting his glasses briefly with a finger. In all his years of teaching young children within the Baskerville family, not one of them captured his attention quite like this bunch of youngsters. With the strengthened body she obtained after being submerged in the River Styx, and her incredible mind that can parse together a hundred from one…her talent is on a different level from the other young masters. Truly frightening and all together exciting. The clan head will be elated when he hears of Young Master Viktoria's achievements.

Of course everyone involved with this new batch of infants now has to report back to the clan head because of my involvement. Originally, Hugo did not bother showing any interest in any of the lower children unless they are the eldest and second sons. However he has been stopping by the infant castles with interest and putting pressure on the tutors just by his presence alone. But, as a result of my achievements thus far, the budget has increased a lot, and some of the staff members have grown within their positions. Therefore they began looking at me with favorable eyes which I promptly ignored due to a lack of interest.

How many years do I need to get revenge on Hugo? Without anyone knowing I already reached the advanced level of Sword Expert at my current age, something I wouldn't have ever dreamed of achieving in my old life. It may still be considered as mediocre or slightly less in the eyes of this family…but, graduate levels are reached by the age of 20, advanced sword experts at 30. Even elite members who were considered geniuses, reached the age of 20 as the threshold for advanced sword experts. I am already stepping on it now at the age of eight.

Because I ended up deep within my thoughts I ended up tuning out the rest of the lesson before we were dismissed for the day. As the other kids stood up to leave and made their way to either their respective bedrooms or the mass hall to grab a quick meal, there was a sensation running along the back of my neck as though multiple pairs of eyes were locked onto me. Hmmmm…this feeling of hostility…

"Hey, trash half weakling."

As a female amongst my mostly male-dominate peers, it dawned on me that I would be the target of bullying tendencies; some of the males chose to ignore my existence, even if they're aware of how I did back in the Cradle. Some kept their eyes on my every movement, waiting for their chance to do something so big that they'll capture the clan head's attention. However, the ones who spoke up to me were the main culprits of bullying and harassment.

Turning my head my eyes landed on the source of the voice, three nine year old boys with sneers upon their face. The one who spoke to me had one cowlick sticking out that draped over his forehead, his other lackeys had two and three pieces respectively. Even though I did not interact with them too much in my past life I know them very well through Vikir because he was their main target of bullying. In fact, they were the ones who put false accusations on my brother and stabbed him during one of his missions when he tried to run away from them.

High Bro Les Baskerville, Middle Bro Les Baskerville, and Low Bro Les Baskerville were their names, from the eldest to the youngest. But what they were most well-known for in the family is their nickname: Hugo Le Baskerville's Trident. The surname of 'Les' in their names indicated that they came from direct descendants of Baskervilles, while females are given the surname of 'Ra'. If there were any females in the Baskerville family with that surname, they wouldn't even bother to interact with the new batch of hounds, let alone getting to know someone like me.

"You're just an illegitimate half dog, absolute garbage not even worth anything in the eyes of those of direct lineage. But there's weird rumor going around, you know?" High Bro sneered as he pushed me into a vacant room out of sight from the other hounds. The other two followed suit and made sure the door closed silently to not attract any attention. We all memorized our schedule at an early age, so I knew that this location was one that was not frequented by the adults or the guards, therefore any actions done between hounds only stayed between those involved.

"You know?"

"You know?" Middle Bro and Low Bro, practically sharing one brain cell with their eldest brother, just repeated what he said in singsong voices.

"You were submerged in the Styx River for a little more than seven minutes? Even going so far as to kill two snakes in your crib. Cut out your bluffs!"

"Cut them out!"

"Cut them out!"

Wow, they're annoying. How did Vikir even deal with these guys? I kept my facial expression as neutral as possible, not interesting in engaging in their "interrogation". Thoughts and memories floated through my brain as I remembered bits and pieces of these three triplets. They were part of the reason why Vikir and I had slow growth rates, they took away a lot of food from us. After just 10 years they'll grow to become tricky troublesome enemies, and Vikir's scars only proved that fact when he told me about that encounter. If that's the case, to save myself the trouble and heartache down the road…shall I take the opportunity to eradicate the weeds before they take root?

"I don't think I like you very much." High Bro said with no hesitation since I haven't responded to his words, his eyes staring at me with loathing.

"I don't."

"I don't." The other brothers chorused around him, giggles in their voices like excited hyenas ready to take a bite out of their prey.

"When you go into the river for a long time, your body will become like steel and you won't be hurt by blades." The eldest soon pulled out what looked like a small dagger the older hounds handed out once we were old enough to wield weapons, and pointed it in my face. If I was being honest, he has always been the most vicious of the brothers so this little play he was pulling didn't faze me one bit. "That's what I heard all around our class, even the elite guards and servants would whisper about you too. So, why don't we test it out here where no one can hear you scream? I can just stab you and you won't die, right?"

"Right?"

"Right?" Middle Bro and Low Bro continued to prod and push me, no doubt trying to rouse any sort of emotion, a crack in my perfected poker mask.

"Low Bro!" High Bro turned to grin at his brother with a knowing smile on his face.

"Okay, High Bro!" The youngest understood his brother's ask and quickly stood behind me, clasping his hands over both my nose and mouth. He put his mouth close to my ear and said, "You held out for more than seven minutes? I'll eat my hand if you even survive three!"

Young children are more brutal than even the adults…fine, I'll play along with this farce until I say it ends. I continued to stand still, not a muscle twitched on my face, not even an eyebrow arched.

There's no way a legend like that is real! She'll crack soon enough! High Bro and Middle Bro held their arrogant expressions, watching and waiting to see if my face will turn blue or if I tap out. One minute passed, soon followed by three minutes. After 10 minutes the triples realized that I still haven't change anything, posture or otherwise. There's a reason why it was excruciatingly painful when I held my breath in the river, I was already covered in wounds. Now, standing on land with not a scratch on my body and only my nose and mouth covered, there was just no comparison.

"Th-this isn't fun anymore, let her go." High Bro spoke with a worried expression, the hair on the back of his neck raised in warning that something bad was going to happen. Middle Bro and Low Bro soon echoed that sentiment, however as soon and the hands were loosened, I attacked.

CRUNCH!

"Huh?" Low Bro slowly raised his left hand in astonishment, looking as his blood trickled from the puncture wound and what seemed to be the loss of an appendage. He quickly knelt to one knee once his brain caught up with what had happened, holding onto his hand with a wail, "UWAAAH!"

"What are you doing?!" Middle Bro yelled at me.

"What? Didn't you say you'd eat your hand if I survive three minutes?" I growled with laughter, wiping the blood from my mouth with the back of my own hand. I frowned for a minute, my jaws moving in a chewing motion before I spat out what was in my mouth. It was Low Bro's missing finger and he quickly snatched it back and stuffed it into his pocket for safe keeping. My eyes flashed with anger and fixed the other two brothers who were trembling like pups in their place, "I took the initiative and claimed my reward."

"Hmph! Even if you do that, we're not scared of you!"

"Not scared!"

"Scared!" Low Bro's sniffling words caused his brothers to look at him with annoyance, a big difference in comparison to the other two's bravado. He squealed at them pitifully, showing them his wounded hand, "My finger got bitten off!"

"C-Calm down, bro. We'll ask the priest to stick it back on and you'll be all better. No need to fret anymore."

"Let's go." The other two comforted their sibling the best they could, making a move towards the door.

"Who said you could leave?" I quickly moved my body to stand before them, blocking their only exit. Deep down I was laughing at this twist of fate, eager to see how this played out. For all those days my brother and I suffered their abuse and torment, I was going to make their childhood days a living hell for them. This is just the beginning, and I'm liking how it is turning out…

"Bitch! Don't forget that we're a year older than you! Now get outta our way!" High Bro took a swing, rushing forward to pierce my body with the blade that never left his hand. He smiled in triumph, thinking that he dealt me a fatal wound because he was aiming for my ribs, but the attack turned out to be futile. The blade did not even pierce skin, the tip just touched my skin harmlessly.

"I think you're forgot something, brother. This is Baskerville." I spoke calmly, grabbing his wrist and twisted it. The blade fell out of his grasp, dropping to the floor with a 'clang'. "If you have strength and talent, something like age doesn't matter."

"L-L-Let me go…!" High Bro whimpered as I forced him down to his knees, watching as I tightened my hold on him and possibly twisted the limb even further. He cried out, "Ow ow ow ow! Uncle! Uncle!"

"Oh no, you don't get to say that to me and assume I'll show you a hint of mercy." I sneered at him, looking at the other two as they trembled, fearing what I had in store for them. "Let's play 'till the end, brothers."