Chapter 10: Drop Dead, You Bastards! (1)
Chapter 10: Drop Dead, You Bastards! (1)
Patrick looked at the soldier with an expression usually reserved for a mortal enemy.
"Learn the sword? Who? You? Why? What have you even done to earn that?"
"Well, we’ve completed the basic tasks you assigned, Young Master, and we’ve learned Aura Blessing, so we thought it might be okay to start learning actual swordsmanship..."
"Hahaha... Hahaha. Really? Is that what you thought? Is that so? I see."
"..."
A look of deep satisfaction spread across Patrick’s face.
If the disciples of the Twin Dragon Sect had seen that smile, they would have scattered in all directions and bolted for their lives. Usually, when that demon smiled like that...
"Right. So, our Nameless Soldier A wants to learn the sword."
"My name is Oliver, sir."
"Yes, yes, yes. Soldier Oliver. You want to learn the sword? Then learn you shall. Hmm. I’ll teach you right now."
Patrick walked to one side of the training ground and grabbed three wooden swords. He held two for himself and tossed the third to Oliver.
Oliver caught the wooden sword, looking dazed. And then...
"Swordsmanship training... begin!"
"Huh?"
WHACK!
The moment the word "begin" left Patrick's lips, Oliver felt an impact so jarring it felt like his eyeballs were going to pop out. He collapsed onto the ground.
Patrick’s wooden sword had landed a precise blow right on the crown of his head.
Looking down at the fallen Oliver, Patrick scoffed.
"Look at you. You can't even react to a predictable attack, and you want to learn what? Sword-man-ship?"
"Ugh... Argh..."
As Oliver groaned in pain, Patrick’s nagging poured down on him like a storm.
"You haven't even mastered the 'B' of basics, and you already want to learn the sword? Huh? Your legs shake like a newborn fawn’s when I make you do the horse stance with a pebble on your head, and you want the sword? The swoooord?"
To an outsider, it would have looked as if wanting to learn swordsmanship was a capital crime against the state.
The other soldiers watched the scene, clicking their tongues in pity for the victim, Oliver.
Tsk, tsk. Why did he have to go and poke the demon?
Rest in peace, Oliver. You were a good man... I think?
Sweet! Now I don't have to pay back the money I borrowed from him.
It seemed Oliver hadn't been the most popular man among his peers.
The surrounding soldiers shook their heads as they watched Patrick raving and Oliver lying in the dirt. However, there was something they didn't know yet.
When that demon gets into that state, you shouldn't just stand there watching like it’s a fire across the river. You have to run.
You must never fall into the naive trap of thinking, 'I'm safe because I didn't step forward and I'm outside his line of sight.'
They hadn't realized that fact yet. Not until Patrick’s eyes began to gleam with a frantic light as he scanned them.
"It seems to me..."
Patrick flashed a blood-chilling smile as he approached the other soldiers.
"That there are quite a few others here harboring the same complaints as Soldier A."
"Not me, sir!"
"Young Master! Such a thought has never even crossed my mind!"
"I love the basics, Young Master!"
The soldiers hurriedly denied it, but it was no use. After all, isn't the "flower" of the military the collective responsibility triggered by one idiot’s blunder?
"Hehehe. Alright, then. It’s time for real combat training. If you land even a single hit on me, you pass. If not, you fail."
"Y-Young Master?"
"Now, be—"
No. No.
Don't do it, please.
Damn it...
Despite the soldiers' desperate pleas, the cursed command escaped Patrick’s lips.
"—gin!"
"Run!"
"Waaaaah!"
"Help me!"
Only then did the soldiers realize the reality of the situation and scatter, but it was too late. Patrick, wielding a wooden sword in each hand, began to hunt them down.
"Drop dead! All of you bastards!"
From that day on, group sparring was added to the training curriculum.
* * *
Basic training in the morning.
Followed by real combat sparring to wrap it up.
Then, performing duties as soldiers of the estate, such as patrolling and maintaining public order.
In the evening, more basic training before dinner.
And finally, an inspection to see if they were performing Aura Blessing correctly...
Patrick trained the soldiers with meticulous and thorough cruelty.
"I can't believe patrol duty is the most relaxing part of the day."
"Forget becoming knights, I think we're all going to die at this rate."
"I'm not joking. If a monster attacks while we're this exhausted, how are we supposed to fight?"
"..."
The mention of monsters made the soldiers uneasy.
In the Schneider estate, crimes among residents didn't happen very often. Since most of the inhabitants were poor farmers, there was little opportunity for crime to occur.
The reason the estate maintained two hundred soldiers despite its poverty was because of monsters.
The Schneider estate was a remote region on the outskirts of the Atronia Kingdom, and the forest right next to it was an undeveloped wilderness. To defend against the hordes of monsters that periodically poured out from there, military force was an absolute necessity. That was why they always had to maintain these two hundred elite troops.
But now, those two hundred elite troops were dying from grueling training. If monsters attacked now, would they even be able to respond?
This might be a more serious problem than I thought...
Shouldn't the training be scaled back?
Talking to the Young Master won't work, but is there any way to get a word to the Baron?
While the soldiers were lost in these thoughts, a resident came running toward them, panting heavily.
"Soldiers! It's an emergency! A disaster!"
The soldiers instantly sensed that something grave had happened.
"What is it?"
"Trolls have attacked Gelly Village nearby! And there are three of them!"
"Damn it."
Trolls were large-class monsters, each known to be a match for a knight.
Normally, ordinary soldiers would turn pale and flee at the mere mention of a Troll, but these were the soldiers of the Schneider estate.
"Notify the entire company immediately and gather at Gelly Village! It's Trolls! Make sure to bring long spears, crossbows, and iron nets!"
"Yes, sir!"
Though the estate lacked proper knights, these men were veterans when it came to dealing with monsters.
They would keep the Trolls at bay with long spears, restrict their movements with iron nets, and then rain down crossbow bolts until the Trolls were turned into pincushions. That way, even if they couldn't kill them, they could at least drive them away. The Schneider soldiers were elite troops who had experienced such battles several times.
Of course, in the process, spearmen might die, or the nets might be torn by a rampaging Troll, leading to more casualties...
"Hurry! We must protect the people!"
"Yes, sir!"
Not a single man ran away. They all recognized that risking their lives to protect the estate was their duty.
The communication network was quickly activated, and forty soldiers who were in the vicinity rushed to the scene.
Clutching the equipment they had scrambled to gather, they reached Gelly Village and gritted their teeth.
"Dammit."
"Are we too late?"
Before their eyes lay the village’s wooden fence, already smashed to pieces. A destroyed fence meant the Trolls had already entered the village.
"Hell."
"Those filthy bastards..."
"Everyone, charge!"
They had hoped the village youths would somehow use the fence to hold the Trolls back until they arrived, but it seemed they had failed. If the fence was down and the Trolls were inside, there would already be significant casualties.
"Engage as soon as we enter!"
"Everyone, stay sharp!"
"Yes, sir!"
Two squad leaders encouraged their subordinates as they sprinted into the village. They shouted at the top of their lungs:
"You filthy monsters! Get away from our people right n—... Huh?"
But the soldiers' footsteps came to a collective halt. They had no choice but to stop.
The scene before them was nothing like what they had imagined.
There was a pile of Troll corpses, sliced into dozens of pieces. Standing before them was a ten-year-old demon with a bored expression.
And in front of that demon...
"Your hips are sagging, aren't they? Huh?"
"I-I'm sorry."
"You call yourself a knight when you can't even handle three Trolls on your own? You really had the nerve to strut around as a knight? Well?"
"Ugh... Normally, it takes a 3-Star Knight to handle a Troll..."
"What? Huh? What did you say?"
"...Nothing, sir."
"You should be ashamed of yourself. A former knight can't handle monsters that a ten-year-old kid can slice up? Why, I ought to just—!"
Brian, who was sweating profusely while performing a head-on-the-ground punishment with his hands behind his back, flinched. The words were technically true, but...
Are you a normal ten-year-old?! Are you?! You're a bigger monster than these monsters!
It was a source of eternal resentment that he couldn't bring himself to say those words out loud.
Unlike Brian, who couldn't say a word even though he had a mouth, Patrick was saying everything he wanted to say.
"If your personality is trash, your skills should at least be useful. But this guy... Hm? What are you guys doing? Why are you here?"
Patrick, who had been nagging Brian, noticed the soldiers who had entered the village and called out to them.
The soldiers replied with bewildered expressions.
"Young Master... Did you do this?"
"Do what? Oh... this?"
Patrick lightly kicked a chunk of Troll carcass lying at his feet.
"I guess so. These bastards had the nerve to enter our territory and try to eat people."
"And... so?"
"What do you mean 'and so'? Then they have to die. Don't they?"
Ah, right.
I suppose so.
They definitely deserved to die.
The soldiers agreed that his words were perfectly logical. However, the reason they hadn't done the same until now wasn't because they didn't want to, but because they couldn't.
Good heavens...
He really is a monster.
These were Trolls. Although classified as one of the weaker large-class monsters, they were notorious man-eaters known for their immense strength and ferocious nature. They possessed the power to rip a cow apart while it was still alive and a terrifying regenerative ability that allowed them to regrow limbs.
To be honest, a 2-Star Knight would have to risk their life to face a Troll one-on-one. To win safely, you’d need a 3-Star Knight.
That was why the Schneider soldiers, even when fighting under Brian’s command, had always focused on repelling Trolls rather than dreaming of slicing them into pieces like this.
"Unbelievable..."
"I knew he was strong, but..."
"You are amazing, Young Master. To take down Trolls at only ten years old."
"Young Master, you are truly a genius of the sword."
The soldiers were genuinely impressed. They praised Patrick with all their hearts. Usually, they cursed him, calling him a demon, a freak, or a monster worse than actual monsters, but at this moment, they were sincere.
Faced with such blatant and obvious flattery, Patrick...
"Fufu. Well, I suppose I am a bit of a genius."
...was extremely pleased.
What could one expect? Dignity of a master? The aura of a chivalrous hero? This man had never possessed such things.
Seeing Patrick looking happy, the soldiers doubled down on their flattery.
"The Young Master is a future 7-Star Knight."
"Hehehe."
"You will bring great prosperity to the Schneider family."
"Ehehehehe."
"You will undoubtedly make a name for yourself as a great swordsman in the history of the continent."
"Mwahahaha! I am pretty impressive, aren't I?"
The soldiers praised him over and over, like trainers who had discovered how to tame a ferocious beast.
In fact, although it was flattery, it was all true. What else would you call a freak who butchers three Trolls at the age of ten if not a genius of the sword?
So, it was true. It was true, but...
Someone please just let me stand up first.
Brian, still planting his head on the ground, felt tears of sorrow welling up. To think he was a 2-Star Knight and being treated like this...
Then, a comment from one soldier became the spark.
"Truly amazing. If I could hunt Trolls single-handedly like you, Young Master, I could make a fortune."
"Khehe... Huh? What?"
Patrick, who had been grinning ear to ear, suddenly changed his expression. As his face shifted, the soldiers' expressions froze as well.
"What did you just say? Money?"
"Yes... Trolls are expensive monsters."
"These things are worth money?"
"Yes. Their blood is an ingredient for potions, and their hides are highly valuable for making armor... Did you not know?"
"How would I know that? I'm only ten!"
"..."
Oh, right. You're ten.
I forgot.
