Chapter 125. Cut the Crap, You Bastards! (2)

Looking at his seniors, who were so dejected they couldn't even meet his eyes, Patrick let out a deep sigh.

And then....

“You know the diner and steakhouse in front of the Academy, right?”

“Huh? Why all of a sudden? Ah... yes. I know them.”

“Right. They exist.”

“That place is a good restaurant.”

“The prices are cheap and the portions are large too.”

His companions, who were about to question him, hurriedly answered when Patrick's hand moved to the scabbard on his back.

And Patrick continued to speak.

“Between the two restaurants, where would you go to eat steak?”

“The steakhouse, of course.”

“Why?”

“Well, isn't it obvious that a specialty restaurant does it better? They don't make other dishes and have only been making steak continuously.”

“You know well.”

And Patrick pointed at Cierion with his hand and said.

“That prince did the same thing as the chef at that steakhouse. He didn't get distracted by other dishes and has been striving day after day to grill the best steak possible.”

“……”

“As a result, he may not know other dishes, but he has become able to grill one thing, steak, to perfection.”

“Aah….”

“So that's what it was.”

“I understand now that you put it that way.”

‘Thankfully, they get this one.’

Patrick let out a sigh.

If they couldn't even understand this, he would have had to split their heads open to check if they even had brains inside their skulls.

‘Well, since the path of the strong sword and the heavy sword is one that the knights of this world already pursue, they would probably get the gist.’

What that Prince Cierion pursued was the same as the goal pursued by the heavy-armored knights of this world.

Therefore, even his seniors, who lacked an understanding of martial arts, could understand the principle of why he was strong.

Just then, Gerard spoke.

“But Patrick.”

“What? What are you curious about now?”

“According to you, if he trained with a focus on strength and destructive power, why did I and that imperial swordsman lose?”

“Because you were outmatched in strength.”

“No, I know that. But before that.”

“……”

“Both I and that man named Nelson tried to settle the fight by closing the distance with speed before clashing with strength, right?”

“……”

“But we lost without even being able to get close. Isn't this being outmatched in speed, not strength?”

“Ooooh... Gerard senior.”

“What?”

“You had a brain after all.”

“……”

This junior bastard.

If only he wasn't better at fighting than me, I'd just kill him.

Receiving Gerard's murderous glare, Patrick chuckled and said.

“That was a good point. In fact, it is true that you were outmatched in speed.”

“Then what is it? Did he train to have both speed while focusing on strength and destructive power? Then what's the difference between us?”

“Tsk tsk tsk, it's different, very different.”

Patrick wagged his finger from side to side and said.

“It's true that that friend's speed is faster than yours, but that's not because he trained for speed. It's an effect derived from continuously training to handle that strength and weight.”

“Derived?”

“To aim for the extreme of one thing means to make all efforts to refine that one thing to the extreme. To swing that heavy greatsword, you build up physical strength, and in doing so, you gain the appropriate speed, and in repeating that to maintain the speed, you build up stamina, and with strength and stamina supporting you, precision is also added.”

“……”

“To train one thing to the extreme is like that. It's not just that one thing that improves, but other abilities to maintain that one thing also naturally improve along with it.”

The Radiant Dragon Great Master Jin Cheon of his past life was exactly like that.

Jin Cheon pursued only the extreme of speed.

He thought that if he could become faster than the wind, a single ray of light that could pierce through the enemy, he would become invincible.

So, as he trained and trained in that direction, other aspects naturally followed.

Strength naturally accompanied speed, precision was added to handle that strength accurately, and as precision was added, his techniques also improved.

“By pursuing one path with unwavering dedication, one eventually reaches the source where all streams converge. The principles of martial arts that have reached the extreme are connected as one like that.”

“……”

“Therefore, it is important for one who walks the path of martial arts to first set a clear goal and strive towards that goal without wavering. There are no other shortcuts.”

“……”

Patrick, excited for the first time in a while, had revealed a part of his insights.

In fact, to those who know, to those who can realize, it was an insight more precious than gold, but to these brats, it was like a saddle on a dog's back....

“Hahaha, those are good words. Very good words.”

Instantly, Patrick drew his twin swords towards the direction the voice came from and launched a fierce attack.

His twin swords became a ray of light and charged straight towards the target.

An attack sharper and keener than any he had shown in the match arena.

But....

Claaaaang!

A spark flew in the air.

At the same time, Patrick's twin swords were also knocked back.

Patrick, who stepped back slightly to regain his balance, had an expression of disbelief.

“Hah?”

“Huh?”

And it was the same for the opponent.

Two voices of disbelief.

One was the voice of a young man who had just had his coming-of-age ceremony, and the other was the voice of an old man who had lived long enough.

“……”

“……”

The two looked at each other blankly.

Then they looked at the swords in their hands again, and then raised their heads to look at the opponent again.

And then....

“...Huh....”

“Well, well….”

The two people, looking at each other with expressions of disbelief.

Just then, Professor Leyte spoke to the old man.

“I don't know who you are, but this is the waiting room of our Kingdom of Atronia.”

Professor Leyte's hand was on the sword at his waist, and his expression was more serious than ever before.

The cold sweat trickling down his cheek and the clearly visible veins on the back of his hand showed just how tense he was right now.

And the old man, who was the target of Professor Leyte's attention, scratched his head as if he were embarrassed and said.

“Ah, my apologies. I was just passing by and heard an interesting story….”

“So you just came in. Is that it?”

“My apologies. An old man with too much useless curiosity, this is....”

Seeing the old man scratching his head and apologizing, Professor Leyte felt a chill run down his spine.

He hadn't felt when that old man had entered here at all.

He, who had reached the 7-star level.

There weren't that many people in the entire continent who could do that.

“N... no way....”

“Ahem, would you be so kind as to pretend you didn't see me? I'm asking you a favor.”

“Yes? Yes. Understood. Of course.”

Whose favor would he dare to refuse?

If that old man's identity was what Professor Leyte suspected, it was impossible to dare to defy him.

Regardless of national affiliation, how could anyone who held a sword and trained dare to refuse that person's request?

Unless they were some kind of crazy bastard.... Huh?

“Look at this old geezer.”

“Hmm?”

“I don't know what stray dog bone you rolled in from, but you sure don't know the proper way of the world, do you?”

“...What did you say?”

“Trying to get away with just words, that's a big problem, you know? You know?”

“...What?”

There was one.

A bastard who went beyond ordinary and was excessively crazy.

Patrick looked at the old man with eyes full of resentment and said.

“You sneak into another country's waiting room and just ask to be let go? What do you take this time-honored Arcana for?”

‘You're the one saying that? You?’

‘Wow. So this is true hypocrisy.’

His companions felt a sense of futility that such words would come from the mouth of Patrick, who had until now been demoting the Arcana to the level of a children's talent show.

But for the old man, his fault was clear, and when it was pointed out, he cleared his throat and said.

“I apologize for that.”

“Does life end if you're sorry?”

“...What do you want me to do?”

“Well, first, reveal your identity, old man. Isn't that the proper order of things?”

At Patrick's point, the old man sighed.

He thought the young punk was only sharp with his sword, but his words seemed to be even sharper.

Finally, he looked Patrick straight in the eye and revealed his identity.

“I am Duke Carlos Dante Reynardo of the Venator Empire.”

“So you were a high-ranking person.”

“Would you introduce yourself as well?”

“Me? Patrick Schneider of the Kingdom of Atronia.”

“……”

“Nice to meet ya. Your Grace, the Duke.”

Patrick gathered all the nonchalance in the world and returned the greeting.

‘What kind of person is this?’

The opponent was flustered.

He had not expected such a reaction even after hearing his name.

Usually, when people heard his name....

“W-wait a minute, if you're Duke Reynardo….”

“The Empire's...?”

“Th-th-th... the Sword Saint?”

“Hiccup.”

Yes. Reacting like that was normal.

Seeing the young people's eyes change to shock, and then to respect, seemed perfectly normal.

Especially that young man named Alex, who had seen him once before, was staring at him with his eyes wide open like a pigeon hit by a slingshot.

That's right. This was the normal reaction of the young people of this era when they saw Duke Reynardo, the Sword Saint, with their own two eyes.

But....

“What? Why? What are you looking at?”

“No, it's nothing.”

‘This is strangely disappointing.’

He had met quite a few young people in his life, but he had never met one like this.

Both in personality and in skill.

Just then, Professor Leyte approached and said.

“If it is Duke Reynardo, we cannot dare to question your fault.”

“Hahaha. Not at all. A fault is a fault. I apologize.”

“It is an apology we cannot dare to accept. Please take it back.”

Professor Leyte, who had already guessed the identity of the Sword Saint, was at least a little calm.

However, there was one person who was very displeased with that humble and calm response....

“No, Professor. Sword Saint or whatever, if he did something wrong, he should first offer a proper apology and appropriate compensation... Mmmph!”

His companions, feeling that Patrick's mouth should not be left unattended any longer, hurriedly rushed him.

“Stop him.”

“Where's the gag? The gag.”

“Here.”

They simultaneously rushed him, bound his arms and legs tightly, and put a pre-prepared gag in Patrick's mouth.

While doing so, they forced a desperate smile towards the Sword Saint and made excuses.

“Hahaha. It's nothing. Please don't mind him.”

“The kid's not in a good state….”

“You can just ignore him.”

“As royalty, I apologize.”

“Mmmph! Mmmph!”

Patrick desperately shouted something, but his companions cleanly ignored him.

Professor Leyte and Professor Baroq also pretended not to see Patrick.

But the Sword Saint himself looked at Patrick intently and said.

“You said your name was Patrick Schneider?”

“Mmmph! Mmmmmph!”

“Hmm, could you please take off the gag first?”

At the Sword Saint's words, Alex let out a sigh mixed with despair and removed the gag.

And as soon as Patrick's mouth regained its freedom, it shouted irritably.

“You guys, I've been letting you off, but whose side are you on? Huh?”

“Well, not your side, for one.”

“Why are you looking for your side here?”

“Go back to the demonic realm and look for it.”

“I doubt you'll find it there either.”

Patrick sighed for a moment at himself for having considered these things his companions.

Regardless, the Sword Saint had a very serious expression and said to Patrick.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“What does your father do?”

“He's a country baron.”

“...Is that so?”

The conditions were perfect.

His nationality was a bit different, but since he wasn't from such a great family, his sense of belonging to the nation would be weak, and he hadn't yet made a big name for himself on the continent.

The Sword Saint, having made up his mind, said to Patrick.

“You. Would you like to become my disciple?”

At those words, the surroundings were shocked.

The Sword Saint's disciple?

What kind of groundbreaking offer was this?

The Sword Saint was a being who transcended nationality, the pinnacle of knighthood to whom all knights paid their respects.

Even if they were to meet on the battlefield during a war, the knights of the enemy country would show the Sword Saint a minimum of courtesy and respect.

To become such a Sword Saint's disciple?

For a child of a country baron's family from a small nation at the eastern edge of the continent, it was an unparalleled opportunity for success.

For a moment, Professor Leyte thought he should stop him for the sake of the kingdom, but considering Patrick's own position, he couldn't bring himself to speak.

Was it really the right thing to do to a promising young man to interfere with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity by bringing up patriotism for the kingdom?

While he was hesitating with such doubts, Patrick opened his mouth.

“Excuse me, old man.”

“Ahem, for now, I have the title of Duke Reynardo.”

“Ah, yes. Your Grace. May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you perhaps senile?”

Once again, the group's jaws dropped.

This time, for a slightly different reason.

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