Chapter 111: Who Are You to Act So Friendly? (1)
Chapter 111: Who Are You to Act So Friendly? (1)
“Begin!”
At the referee’s signal, Isabella moved.
Tap, tap…
She began to bounce lightly in place, executing a series of peculiar steps.
‘Hmm… What is this?’
Fake Patrick grew wary.
Isabella’s movements were completely outside the realm of his common sense.
They were light and nimble.
At a glance, it looked as graceful as a waltz, yet it possessed a ghostly, ethereal quality.
She was clearly within sight, yet she felt both impossibly far and dangerously close at the same time.
Maintaining those strange steps, Isabella began to circle her opponent.
‘This is annoying. What is she doing?’
He couldn’t grasp the rhythm of her movements, making it difficult to even aim his spear.
‘I’ll start with a probe… Huh?’
For a split second, Isabella’s form blurred in Fake Patrick’s eyes before vanishing entirely.
He didn’t know how others would describe it, but that was exactly how it felt to him.
The moment he felt something chilling flying in from his left, he hurriedly raised his spear shaft to defend.
Clang!
“Ugh?!”
Fake Patrick was aghast.
When? No, how?
How had she closed the distance and attacked his flank so quickly?
He hadn’t tracked her movement at all.
Blocking the strike had been a result of pure reflex, not a conscious read of her attack.
However, he was still a representative of his kingdom’s next generation of talent.
Despite his confusion, his body faithfully counterattacked.
His spear swept out in a wide crescent toward where he assumed Isabella would be.
Whoosh!
But his attack cut through nothing but empty air.
Given the overwhelming reach of his spear, Fake Patrick was certain it would connect; its failure left him deeply flustered.
Then, a voice drifted from the opposite side.
Whoosh!
His spear continued to slice through nothingness.
Isabella, who had somehow repositioned to his other side, spoke.
“Clench your teeth.”
“What… Gah!”
Thwack!
It wasn’t a sword strike.
Isabella had slammed the top of the kite shield on her arm directly into Fake Patrick’s head.
“Ugh…”
His vision blurred, and he staggered heavily.
It was impressive that he managed to keep his balance without falling, but a powerful kick immediately slammed into his thigh.
Crack!
“Aaargh!”
With an impact that felt like his thigh was exploding, his knee buckled.
Fake Patrick gritted his teeth, refusing to go down.
Using his good leg as a pivot, he thrust his spear with all his might.
The tip of his spear glowed with Aura, imbued with intense destructive power.
“Hyaaaah!”
Whoosh!
But no matter how powerful an attack is, it means nothing if it doesn’t hit.
Once again, his spear pierced only the void.
Isabella had already drifted far away, resuming her light, rhythmic steps.
The sight sent shivers down Fake Patrick’s spine.
‘This is impossible. How can she…?’
This wasn’t just a matter of being fast or slow.
There was no presence in her movements.
It felt like he was trying to have a swordfight with a ghost.
Fake Patrick spoke with a look of utter disbelief.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Who knows?”
Isabella thought to herself.
‘You must be curious. Of course you are…’
Memories of learning these mysterious steps from Patrick came flooding back.
[You don’t have the strength, so why are you trying to have a contest of power? You need to stay busy, hitting and moving.]
[No, not like that. Don’t spread your legs so wide; narrow your stride. Right. Now move lightly, like a butterfly.]
[Hey, who told you to flap your arms? Are you an actual butterfly?]
[Ugh, you’re terrible at this. Fine, I’ll teach you one useful technique, so practice it until you die. Got it?]
She had pouted through all his nagging while learning this.
But now that she was using it in a real fight, she realized.
This was a truly incredible technique.
No matter how much one trained or reinforced their body with Aura, the fundamental difference in physical strength between men and women was unavoidable.
However, these steps could completely neutralize that power gap.
By disrupting the opponent’s timing and striking through the gaps in their perception, she could control the distance at will.
As a result, as long as she didn’t make a mistake, she held complete control over the flow of the battle.
Her opponent’s realm didn’t seem that different from her own. Yet, with this single footwork technique, she held a clear and absolute advantage.
Confident in her superiority, Isabella smirked.
Continuing her nimble steps, she spoke.
“I don’t have a personal grudge against you.”
“Huh?”
“This is just me venting some personal frustration.”
“…What??”
What kind of fresh nonsense was this?
He couldn’t understand her at all.
But he didn’t need to.
Isabella leaned forward slightly and said, “Here I come!”
The time for his beating had arrived.
Smack! Thud! Crack!
Waist, knee, head.
Isabella’s attacks were brutal, one-sidedly toyed with Fake Patrick.
She slammed her shield into his knees, struck his head with the pommel of her sword, and drove her elbows and knees into his body.
It was a complete slaughter.
“Aaaaaah!”
The opponent did his best to counter.
The flamboyant spear techniques of the Caesar Kingdom unfolded toward Isabella.
But his spear only sliced through the indifferent air.
It never once touched Isabella’s body.
“What’s wrong with that guy?”
“Did he really enter the Arcana with those skills?”
“He’s pathetic. How did he even manifest Aura?”
The spectators, watching Fake Patrick repeatedly swing at nothing, reacted with confusion, unable to understand how someone of that caliber had been chosen for the Arcana.
The representatives of other nations felt the same.
To their eyes, Fake Patrick’s spearwork against Isabella looked utterly disastrous.
There was only one person who correctly understood what was happening in the match.
“Tsk, tsk. I even taught her the Illusory Hazy Step, so why is she taking so long?”
Patrick clicked his tongue as he watched Isabella.
Once he felt her lower body was sufficiently conditioned, that was the footwork he had taught her.
In this world, swordsmanship for men and women was largely the same.
Because it was designed around the assumption of fighting with swords, shields, and armor, it was fundamentally built on contests of strength.
In fact, it was more accurate to call it Gladiator Combat.
Isabella, lacking physical strength because she was a woman, had also adhered to that style of fighting.
That was why Patrick had prioritized teaching her footwork.
Since he couldn't teach her the Twin Dragon Sect’s techniques, he had chosen the Illusory Hazy Step instead.
It was the signature technique of his close friend, the Dragon-Chasing Scholar Zhuge Hyeon.
Developed by evolving the Zhuge Clan’s Heavenly Secret Hazy Step, it was the only technique from the Zhuge Clan that Jincheon—the Radiant Dragon Hero and martial arts collector of his past life—had ever acknowledged.
[He’s damn good at dodging, I’ll give him that.]
Coming from the Radiant Dragon Hero, that was a top-tier compliment.
Truly.
The Illusory Hazy Step, which freely created and retracted afterimages of Qi, looked like simple movement with varied pacing when viewed from a distance.
Its true value could only be felt by those facing it directly.
The Caesar Kingdom representative facing Isabella right now likely felt as if he were being haunted by a ghost.
The contradiction between the distance seen by the eyes and the distance felt by the senses.
That contradiction clouded judgment and, consequently, dulled the body’s reactions.
The higher the realm of the practitioners, the greater this hallucinatory effect became.
After all, it was a technique that had allowed someone to survive for thirty seconds against the world-renowned Radiant Dragon Hero.
“But why is she taking so long? She’s being too cautious…”
As Patrick grumbled, Alex approached him.
“It looks like she’s intentionally not ending it quickly, doesn’t it?”
“What? Why would she do that?”
“Don’t you know?”
“No. Why would she? Is a duel—no, a match—a joke? Why do something so meaningless?”
“Right. You really don’t know.”
I think I know, though.
Alex and the other three all wore similar expressions, looking toward the training ground with envious eyes.
Isabella, having slipped into her opponent’s guard, thrust her kite shield upward with all her might.
The top edge of the shield slammed perfectly into Fake Patrick’s chin.
CRACK!
“Gah!”
His head snapped back, his feet left the ground, and Fake Patrick collapsed backward.
He couldn't get back up, only twitching on the ground.
After checking his condition, the referee shouted loudly.
“Isabella Black Atronia wins!”
The moment the referee confirmed Isabella’s victory…
“Wooooooo!”
“We won!”
“She did it!”
Patrick was startled by the cheers erupting from right behind him.
“Gah! Why are you screaming all of a sudden?!”
“We won, you idiot! We finally won!”
“I know. I have eyes. Hey! Why are you hugging me? Get off!”
Patrick sighed as he kicked away the clinging Alex.
‘These poor bastards… Just how sorrowful have they been?’
Among the participating nations of the Arcana, they were the only ones to have suffered total defeat for three consecutive years without a single win.
Patrick didn't think much of it, but anyone with common sense knew how humiliating that was.
Because of this, the Atronia Kingdom bore the disgrace of being called the weakest nation on the continent.
One might wonder why people cared so much about a single tournament, but there was a reason for the analysis.
The weakest nations on the continent were inevitably one of the four kingdoms in the East.
With their actual national power being more or less equal, the real point of comparison was their knightly strength, and the Arcana served as the yardstick for the quality of those knights.
Therefore, it was natural for the Atronia Kingdom, which had lost every match in the Arcana, to be branded the weakest.
In short, they were treated as the weakest among the weak.
How sorrowful must that have been?
Even Professor Late was clenching his fists in joy.
They had finally broken the losing streak.
Furthermore, the fact that the person who broke it was the kingdom’s princess added even more significance.
How could they not be happy?
‘Sigh… Fine. Be as happy as you want.’
Patrick, whose goals lay elsewhere, couldn't join in the cheering.
Instead, he spoke bluntly to Isabella as she walked down.
“Senior, you dragged that out too long. You could have ended it much sooner.”
“I was just being cautious.”
“…Really?”
“…Carelessness is a forbidden thing, after all.”
What was this? Her words were technically correct.
They were definitely correct, but…
‘Something feels fishy.’
Isabella avoided Patrick’s gaze, looking away for no reason.
Patrick was about to press further, but the next name was already being called.
“Alex Rowenski!”
“Ah, it’s my turn.”
Alex, who had been cheering, stepped forward with his sword.
Patrick glanced at the opponent already waiting on the stage and nodded.
Then, looking at Alex, he said…
“Senior.”
“Yeah?”
Is he going to give me some advice?
Despite everything, Alex felt a surge of gratitude, thinking Patrick was looking out for him as a teammate…
“If you lose to that guy, you’re dead.”
“……”
‘What was I expecting?’
Alex’s shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh and walked forward.
Professor Late, who remained behind, approached Patrick.
“Aren’t you putting too much pressure on him?”
“It’s fine. Pressure or not, he should at least be able to beat that guy.”
“Is the opponent weak? He looks decent to me.”
Professor Late frowned as he looked at Alex’s opponent.
He was a knight who had reached the 7-Star realm.
He could see the general level of the competitors.
To his eyes, Alex’s opponent appeared to be at a mature 4-Star realm.
In other words, in terms of realm alone, he was a step above Alex, who had only recently reached the 4-Star realm.
And yet, Patrick said Alex should obviously win?
‘How can that be?’
To the questioning Professor Late, Patrick said, “Why do you think I put them through such brutal practical training on the way here?”
“So you were aware that it was brutal?”
“Of course. If someone tried to make me do that, I wouldn’t. I’d just beat up the person telling me to do it.”
“……”
And yet you made them do it?
Knowing that?
‘He never ceases to amaze me.’
Professor Late was beginning to feel a sense of awe at the bottomless depths of Patrick’s personality.
Regardless, Patrick continued.
“Don’t get too hung up on realms. They’ve divided them so minutely, but from my perspective, everyone below 7-Star is just a bunch of slimes measuring their heights.”
“No, surely that’s going too far…”
If every knight on the continent had heard that, they would have been horrified.
But Patrick didn't hold back.
“They can’t even handle what they already have, yet they struggle desperately to have more… That’s why their foundations are so flimsy.”
“Isn’t it natural to work hard to raise one’s realm?”
“Even a pile of pearls is only a treasure if you string them together. Realms, my foot. Honestly, kids these days… Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
“……”
Here was a professor being lectured by a student who hadn't even had his coming-of-age ceremony yet.