Chapter 94. I Apologize, Father (1)

Patrick lightly stepped on the ground with both feet and said.

“Do you have the leisure to be lost in thought?”

“N-.... No, that….”

“Focus. Or it'll be over in an instant.”

As soon as those words ended, Patrick's body blurred and disappeared.

And when he reappeared….

“Heot!?”

It was in front.

He could have gone to the back or the sides.

But Patrick appeared right in front of Professor Baroq.

And Professor Baroq, though flustered, sharply thrust his halberd forward.

“Haaat!”

Despite the massive axe blade and the long, cumbersome halberd blade, his thrust was much sharper than a regular spear.

To utilize the strengths of his beloved weapon and compensate for its weaknesses.

It was the most basic of basics.

But how much effort did it take to polish this basic to this level?

At this moment, Patrick, as a senior who walked the path of martial arts before him, was proud of this man.

And with that feeling in abundance….

Thwaaaaack!

He kicked him away.

“Keoheok….”

Professor Baroq, who took a direct hit to his lower abdomen, flew backward.

He managed to keep his balance and not fall, but Patrick appeared once again in front of him.

Once again, in front.

Seeing Patrick appear right before his nose, Professor Baroq reacted instinctively.

“Uwaaaaaah!”

This time, a slash.

He swung the axe blade of his massive halberd as if to cut Patrick in half, but….

Craaaack!

This time too, Patrick's fist was faster.

Patrick's fist, thrown while still holding his sword, exploded on Professor Baroq's face.

As Professor Baroq's vision wavered, Patrick spoke.

“There's a difference between wielding a weapon well and being wielded by it.”

“What…. Keoheok!”

This time, a knee.

Patrick's knee exploded into Professor Baroq's stomach, and for a moment, it felt as if something foul was rising from within him.

Unable to withstand the terrible pain, he collapsed to his knees and looked up at Patrick from that position.

With a face full of resentment, he spoke.

“What is the meaning of this? Are you saying a sword isn't even necessary for someone like me?”

“That's not it.”

“……”

“Well, actually, that is right….”

It seemed that was right.

Patrick looked at the grinding Professor Baroq and said.

“I simply chose the fastest and most concise means of attack from the previous distance.”

“What did you say?”

“At a close distance like just now, no matter how sharply you swing a sword, it can't be faster than a fist. Don't you agree?”

“…Uh….”

“That’s the case even for me, who uses a light sword, so what about someone like you who uses a heavy weapon?”

“…Ah!”

A gasp of realization escaped Baroq's mouth.

Yes. This was it.

He had been too obsessed with his weapon.

He had only been obsessed with swinging and thrusting faster and more perfectly to overcome the weakness of the halberd's heavy weight.

As a result, he could perform faster, sharper, and more delicate movements with the halberd than anyone else.

In fact, when Patrick closed the distance, he had instinctively counterattacked.

But no matter how fast and sharp, counterattacking with a heavy weapon like a halberd was ultimately much less concise than kicking and punching with his bare body.

Suddenly, Patrick's earlier words came to mind.

[There's a difference between wielding a weapon well and being wielded by it.]

His gaze fell upon the halberd in his hand.

Whether the opponent was near or far, or at an ambiguous distance, he always attacked the enemy with his halberd.

He had dismissed all other possibilities and focused solely on thrusting and swinging the halberd faster and stronger.

It was an obsession with and dependence on his own weapon.

“Haha…. Hahahaha….”

Realizing this, he could see the various possibilities he had been missing.

The weaknesses in angles, distances, and situations in various attacks and defenses that he had thought difficult until now were being supplemented, and the possibility of a counterattack arose.

“Ahh…. Ahhh…. So that's how it was. That was it.”

And as Professor Baroq closed his eyes, the aura hole inside his body began to expand.

“Stop the exam! Stoooop!”

At that moment, Justin Leyte, who had grasped the situation faster than anyone, shouted.

At his voice, the other professors jumped in, terrified.

“Everyone, back away. Do not approach Professor Baroq!”

“The exam is suspended! All personnel, disperse!”

“Everyone, fall back!”

Right now, Professor Baroq was about to step into a higher state as a knight.

For his 5-star state to rise meant that he was entering the 6-star state, and that meant one more 6-star knight in this country.

This was a much more important matter than a simple first-year mid-term assessment.

“Uh…. Uh oh? Wait, what about my exam? Did I pass? Or not?”

To the flustered Patrick, Justin Leyte shouted back.

“Is that important right now?”

“Yes.”

“……”

Seeing Patrick answer so calmly, Justin Leyte made a face that said, ‘What kind of person is this.’

But that expression soon changed to ‘Right. He was always like this,’ and he bit his lower lip and said.

“Patrick Schneider, pass.”

“For real? I really passed, right?”

“Yes. So please clear the area quickly.”

“If you say otherwise later, I'll just.... You know?”

“……”

Now he was even threatening a professor.

The problem was, hearing this threat, a few professors flinched.

“See you later then.”

Patrick left with that one remark and walked away without looking back.

This was a snippet of a legend that would later be passed down in the Academy with the words, ‘That guy was just being that guy.’

A tavern somewhere in the royal capital, White Town.

As always, this was a place where various people gathered to share various stories.

In a sense, it was a sea of information where countless stories were exchanged.

“Hey, did you hear the rumor?”

“A rumor? What rumor?”

“It's about what happened at the Knight Faculty of the Academy this time….”

“Oh, that? I heard about it. But it was so absurd. Isn't it a false rumor?”

“A false rumor…. I thought so too at first.”

A first-year provoked the professors during the mid-term assessment, dueled with them, and achieved 8 consecutive victories.

And overwhelmingly so.

What's more, in the end, he fought against Baroq the Crusher, gave him a lesson, and as a result, Marox Baroq ascended to the state of 6-star.

Most people who heard this rumor thought.

‘No way.’

‘After being last in the Arcana all the time, now they're desperate for attention.’

‘Tsk tsk tsk, our country's Academy has really gone to the dogs.’

It was natural to think this way.

Because it was something that was impossible according to common sense.

Even if rumors were a bit exaggerated, there had to be some plausible part to believe, but wasn't this exaggeration a bit too much?

But at this place, one person grinned and said.

“Surprisingly, it seems it's not a false rumor.”

“What did you say?”

“Is that true?”

“You know my younger brother works at the Academy cafeteria, right? He said he saw it on site.”

“Hahaha…. So a first-year student really defeated the professors? Consecutively, at that?”

“Is it also true that he fought as if he were teaching them?”

“Yes. It's all true. The exam ended ambiguously because Sir Baroq the Crusher gained enlightenment at the end, but even if it had continued, the professors would have had no chance of winning.”

“Ooooh….”

“My god, so that was actually true?”

The man who had brought up the topic slammed his beer mug on the table towards the marveling crowd and said.

“Patrick Schneider. That is said to be the name of the person who achieved that unbelievable feat.”

“Patrick Schneider…. Schneider…. I've never heard of that family.”

“I hear it's a baronial family from some backwater village in the East.”

“Is that really true? Isn't that place a complete dump among dumps?”

“I heard it's difficult for people to even live there because there are so many monsters.”

“On the contrary, isn't it because of such a harsh environment that the Eastern region is famous for its tough soldiers and knights?”

“Ahh…. That's true.”

“Everyone knows the people from the East are tough.”

“It seems a talent has finally emerged from the East. No, the word talent is not enough. What should I say? A genius? A monster?”

“In any case, a great figure has appeared. Maybe…. maybe we can have some hope for this Arcana.”

“They've been sucking for over 10 years, and now….”

“But they didn't have Patrick Schneider until now, did they?”

“But he's a first-year, can he be chosen as the representative for the Arcana?”

“Ahem! First-year or not, what does that matter? He crushed the professors, so would the upperclassmen be any different?”

“That's true.”

“Now that I hear it, you're right.”

“This time, our country has to get at least one win in the Arcana. We can't keep being the continent's bottom-feeder without a single win.”

“That's right. It has to happen.”

“I really hope so.”

Thus, people became excited about the appearance of a new legend and hoped that the new genius named Patrick Schneider would wash away their humiliation.

As for what that genius, who was receiving the attention of the entire nation, was doing….

“Ooh, is this your house?”

“Yeah.”

“Kheuuhh…. It puts the mansions of great nobles to shame. Money really is good. It's the best. It's the truth.”

In front of Patrick's eyes was a mansion so grand and large that it would make the mansions of any noble family look like doghouses.

Who would look at this and say it was the house of a commoner?

Matthew sighed as he looked at Patrick beside him.

Do people know?

That this man, obsessed with money, was the genius who had recently been shaking up White Town?

Matthew had kept his promise.

He had arranged for his father and Patrick to meet as soon as the mid-term assessment was over.

That day was today.

So Patrick had prepared the necessary items and came like this.

“Ace. You brought the things I prepared, right?”

“They are here, Young Master.”

April, following behind Patrick with a stoic expression, was carrying a bag containing something.

On the way, Matthew had asked what it was, but the answer he got from Patrick was….

“If you're curious, 5 gold.”

He decided not to ask because it was petty and dirty.

How could a person so obsessed with money reach such a great state?

Was there perhaps a connection between obsession with money and the state of the sword?

‘No, if that were the case, my father would have to be the strongest in the kingdom.’

To Matthew, who was having such silly thoughts, Patrick spoke.

“Well, let's go in quickly. Aren't you going in?”

“No, let's go in.”

When Matthew opened the door and went inside, a person who appeared to be an attendant came out shortly after.

“What is your business…. Ah! Young Master!”

“It's been a while, Jeros.”

“Ooooh, Young Master, you've come. I heard you passed the mid-term assessment with excellent results. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I was lucky.”

“Hahaha. Everyone knows how hard the Young Master has worked. Well, please come in. Who is the person next to you?”

“He's my friend. I made an appointment with my father in advance, is he home now?”

“Ah! Come to think of it, the master canceled his schedule today and was at the mansion. It must have been because of the appointment with the Young Master.”

“He overdid it.”

Matthew smiled bitterly.

Time is money. Wasting time is the same as throwing away money.

That was his father's philosophy.

So his father, who usually handled a busy schedule and did his best to expand his business, had cleared a whole day for his son, himself.

Matthew's father, Aron.

The top merchant in the Kingdom of Atronia.

His day, converted into money, was worth at least thousands, no, sometimes hundreds of millions of gold.

Matthew felt grateful to his father for making such time for him, and at the same time….

“Ooh, this looks expensive. Is it gold? It is, right? It's gold, right?”

A sigh escaped him as he saw Patrick admiring the decorations of his house.

Is it really okay to let him meet my father?

Him? Really? For real?

“Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey. It's not gold, is it? Geez…. It ruined my appetite.”

He felt ashamed watching his friend who had actually bitten it to check if it was gold.

‘I apologize, father.’

What could he do?

A promise was a promise.

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