Chapter 122: I Conceded Three Moves (2)
Chapter 122: I Conceded Three Moves (2)
“Pa… Patrick Schneider wins! So stop hitting him already!”
“Huh? Already?”
Patrick looked at the referee with a look of disappointment. He smacked his lips and spoke.
“But he hasn't surrendered yet?”
Surrender?
The referee looked down at the thing that used to be a magic swordsman—a mangled, bloody mess that could hardly be called human anymore.
Forget surrendering, I’m not even sure if he’s still alive.
The referee spoke firmly.
“The match is over.”
“Well, if you say so, I guess there’s nothing I can do. Tsk… I could’ve hit him twenty-seven more times without killing him, though.”
He provided a very specific number with absolute confidence.
Unless one was a master of the art of beating people to a pulp, such a precise estimate would have been impossible.
Patrick looked down at Georg, who was twitching at his feet.
“Hey, let’s have a little chat later.”
At that moment, the referee saw it.
Georg’s body, which he had assumed was completely unconscious, gave a violent shudder.
“My god, did you see that…?”
“How could it be so one-sided?”
“This makes no sense. His opponent was a magic swordsman who could handle three Soul Weapons.”
“And didn't that Patrick guy use something like magic, too?”
“Then is he a magic swordsman as well? But he didn't have a Soul Weapon, did he?”
“Maybe he’s a real magic swordsman.”
“Oh… Ohhh…!”
The audience was in an uproar.
Patrick had already defeated Jeyton, one of the favorites to win the tournament.
As a prince of the Magellan Kingdom, Jeyton had been considered the strongest contender outside of the Three Great Powers.
However, when Patrick defeated him, the general consensus wasn't that Patrick was incredible, but rather that Jeyton had been overrated. People thought their previous evaluations of the prince had been too generous after seeing him lose to an unknown contestant.
The fact that it wasn't just a loss, but a total landslide, only reinforced that belief.
But this time was different.
Georg Austin had activated three Soul Weapons right in front of the audience.
To put into perspective how impressive that was, most previous winners from the Tower of Truth had only been able to handle three or four Soul Weapons. In other words, Georg had enough skill to potentially win the Arcana Tournament if the overall level of competition had been slightly lower.
And yet, Georg had been utterly crushed.
Naturally, public opinion began to shift.
“I knew it. Prince Jeyton wasn't weak.”
“His opponent was just a monster. Wasn't our prince known to be a 5-Star Knight?”
“Right. He was.”
“Wait, then just how high is that Patrick youth’s realm? At least 6-Star… could he be…?”
“Nah, no way. That’s going too far.”
“Hahaha. You’re right. No matter how great the Arcana is, it’s a place for the next generation of young talents.”
“Right? That must be it, right?”
The audience concluded that Patrick’s realm was likely at the peak of the 6-Star level.
But if that guess was correct…
“Patrick Schneider…”
“A powerful contender for the championship has appeared.”
“At that level, even the Sword Saint’s grandson or the Holy Kingdom’s secret ace can’t afford to be careless.”
“Indeed. Not at all.”
Patrick had emerged as a formidable favorite to win.
The audience began to think that, for the first time in decades, a winner might emerge from somewhere other than the Three Great Powers.
And among the other contestants, those who had their sights set on the trophy began to view Patrick with extreme caution.
“Patrick Schneider…”
“He’s strong. This is the real deal.”
“To think such a talent would come from the Atronia Kingdom.”
Among the contestants, those from the Tower of Truth showed a particularly keen interest in Patrick.
They were looking at him with emotions that went beyond simple rivalry.
“Could he truly be a magic swordsman?”
“That’s impossible. To reach such a realm in both the sword and magic simultaneously… it’s unheard of for anyone who isn't a dragon.”
“Then what were those illusions and wind-attribute spells he showed earlier?”
“That is…”
The group sent from the Tower of Truth to lead the magic swordsmen included several mages.
They were engaged in a heated debate after witnessing Patrick’s techniques.
A person who masters both the sword and magic.
Originally, that was the definition of a magic swordsman.
But realistically, mastering both to a high degree was considered impossible.
The path of the sword and the path of magic were both endless pursuits; how could someone possibly excel in both?
Magic, in particular, was far more dependent on innate talent than the sword.
Without the right aptitude, it was impossible to even begin learning magic.
“In the first place, if we could train magic swordsmen like that, why would we have bothered creating Soul Weapons?”
“That may be true, but we saw it with our own eyes, didn't we?”
“Could he be using an ancient legacy?”
“And fool all of our eyes? No matter how ancient the artifact, no such item exists.”
“Mmm…”
They were burning with curiosity.
These were mages who would do anything to satisfy their thirst for magical knowledge.
They wanted to rush to the Atronia Kingdom’s waiting room right this second, grab Patrick, and interrogate him about every little detail.
But they couldn't.
“Ugh… of all times, it has to be during the Arcana…”
“We have to wait until it’s over.”
“Tsk, this is driving me crazy.”
During the Arcana Tournament, contestants were forbidden from contacting members of opposing factions.
It was a rule established to prevent match-fixing through threats or bribery.
So, no matter how curious they were, they couldn't even approach the Atronia Kingdom’s side right now.
If they were caught trying to do so secretly, it would be a massive embarrassment that would spread across the entire continent.
“Do we really have no choice but to wait until the tournament ends?”
“Well, there is one other way.”
The mage who spoke looked toward a red-haired man with glasses standing to the side.
“Riman, if you end up facing that Patrick Schneider, try to drag the match out as long as possible. Can you do that?”
The young man named Riman pushed up his glasses and spoke.
“Of course. If it is an order, I will gladly carry it out.”
“Good. You should be more than capable. In fact, who else could do it but you?”
Riman Sierra.
With a slender build and sharp features, he looked like an intellectual, especially with his glasses. Anyone who saw him would likely let their guard down.
But the world didn't know.
Riman Sierra was the true genius the Tower of Truth had sent out to claim victory in this Arcana.
If it was Riman, he would surely be able to gauge the depths of Patrick’s abilities while fighting him.
As the mages of the Tower of Truth nodded in agreement, Riman spoke up.
“However, there is one problem.”
“A problem? What is it?”
“What if that Patrick guy loses to Garcia or Antorius before he even gets to fight me?”
“……”
“……”
The mages, who hadn't considered that possibility, fell silent. Then…
“We really should just go and grill him right now.”
“I told you, we can’t!”
“We just won’t get caught. Actually, it doesn't even matter if we do.”
“How does it not matter? Who’s going to handle the fallout if they throw a fit?”
“I don't know!”
The Tower of Truth.
The place where the wisest sages on the continent gathered to explore the unknown and lead the world toward progress.
It was a place that was much more of a mess than one would expect.
*
The second round ended.
The twenty-eight contestants were narrowed down to fourteen, and several had delivered impressive performances along the way.
First, there were Garcia and Antorius.
The two leading favorites had defeated their opponents with overwhelming skill.
Their opponents were strong enough to have reached the second round, but they posed no real challenge to these two.
The Tower of Truth also had three contestants move forward, one of whom easily defeated a top-year student from the Benator Empire’s Academy.
“Riman Sierra…”
“It was him. He was the real contender the Tower of Truth prepared.”
“To think he has that much skill while only using a single Soul Weapon…”
“And against a top-year student from the Benator Academy, no less.”
Despite possessing multiple Soul Weapons, Riman had defeated the Empire’s representative using only one.
It was proof that he still had plenty of strength in reserve.
Aside from them, one of the elves from Evergreen remained, and there were representatives from other nations who had shown decent skill in their second-round victories.
But as the second round concluded, there was one person who had left the strongest impression of all.
Patrick Schneider.
His name began to spread beyond the Atronia Kingdom and across the entire continent.
Patrick Schneider, the name that had become the eye of the storm in the Arcana.
So, what was the man himself doing right now?
“Ah… that feels great. Karin, a little lower. Yeah, right there. Ah… that’s the spot.”
“…Is that so…?”
“Yeah. But Gerard’s fanning is a bit too strong. I can almost feel some… emotion in it.”
“Is that so? You can feel… that?”
“Yeah. So don't grit your teeth, relax your body, and do it gently. Like a soft spring breeze.”
“Does that even… make sense?”
“Yeah, it does. Think of it as swordsmanship training and do your best to control your strength.”
“……”
Karin Trinaldo, the top student of the 4th year, was massaging Patrick’s legs, while Gerard Teixeira, the second-ranked student of the 5th year, was fanning him from the side.
And to top it all off…
“Bella.”
“……”
“Isabella. You should answer when I call you, right?”
“…Yes.”
“That sounded a bit short…”
“Did you call for me? Patrick… Dear Brother.”
“Yeah.”
Patrick then opened his mouth wide.
“Ahhh…”
Creeeak!
Seeing Patrick’s wide-open mouth, Isabella felt a sudden urge to shove her fist into it.
But what she had to put in that mouth wasn't her fist, but fruit she had clumsily peeled herself.
“Please… eat, Dear Brother.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Isabella, the top student of the 3rd year and a princess of the kingdom, placed the fruit she had peeled into Patrick’s mouth.
Patrick took it and chewed happily.
“Tsk, tsk. Look at these peeling skills… How are you ever going to get married like this?”
“……”
“I’m only saying this because I’m worried about you. You should take an elder’s words to heart instead of thinking of them as nagging. You get it, Bella?”
“…Yes, Dear Brother.”
Isabella sincerely wished for the end of the world.
So, what was Alex, the top student of the 5th year, doing?
Someone came running into the waiting room, panting heavily.
That someone, whose bangs were soaked with sweat, was Alex Lowenski.
In his hand, he held a small ceramic bottle.
“Hey, why are you so late, Lex?”
When Patrick scolded him, Alex ground his teeth, but he tried his best to maintain his composure.
“Um, Patrick… Big Brother?”
“Yeah?”
“I brought the rice wine you asked for… sir.”
“Ooh. Good job. Bring it here.”
“Right. But there’s no ice.”
“Huh? Really?”
“Yes. Can’t you just drink it as it is?”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Lex, Lex…”
“…What?”
“You might not know because you’re still young, but you shouldn't give up so easily.”
“……”
“If you give up, your life ends right there.”
It sounded like a cool line, but it definitely didn't seem like something that should be said in this situation.
“Believe in yourself. You can do it. I guarantee it.”
“I’m telling you, I searched the whole market and there wasn't any! …sir.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. That’s because you lack sincerity and effooooort.”
“…Is that… so?”
“Yeah. So go back and try again.”
“……”
“Oh? Is that look on your face saying, ‘I’m gonna kill this bastard’?”
“No… probably not.”
“I see. Then it’s fine. Go get some ice. Oh, and I heard the apple cider in this town is famous. Bring some of that, too.”
Grit.
Watching Alex grind his teeth as he ran off, Patrick gave a bright smile.
“Ah… this is great. I wish every day was like today.”
Grit! Gnashing! Grinding!
Why was Patrick enjoying such a leisurely life?
And why were his seniors enduring such humiliation and shame, risking permanent damage to their teeth in real-time?
The reason can be found by turning back the clock a little.
* * *
The day after the second round ended.
Patrick seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood.
It made sense for him to be happy since he had won his match, but…
“Hehehe, well now…”
“……?”
“Ahem… I’m a bit embarrassed at my age.”
“……?”
“Well, it’s the thought that counts. Don't worry too much about it.”
“……?”
“Just something small. You know? Just keep it simple.”
“……?”
What is this? This is a bit different from his usual state.
Seeing Patrick grinning at his teammates and giving them looks that said, “I know everything, you rascals,” the others felt an inexplicable sense of unease.
As a result, they held an emergency meeting.
“Why is he acting like that?”
“Has he finally lost it?”
“Wasn't he always like that?”
“He might have gone even more insane…”
“Is that even possible?”
“…Hmm, my mistake.”
Alex calmly admitted his error.
No matter how much they thought about it, it was impossible for Patrick Schneider to get any crazier than he already was.
Doesn't everything in the world have a limit?
“Then what on earth is the reason for this strange phenomenon?”
“I don't know. Normally, wouldn't it just be because he’s happy about passing the second round?”
“Karin, are you still trying to associate Patrick with the word ‘normal’?”
“…I’m sorry, senior.”
They racked their brains, but no answer came. Finally, Isabella spoke up.
“Why don't we just ask him directly?”
“Princess?”
“That’s too dangerous.”
“Please reconsider.”
When a natural disaster strikes, one’s first thought should be how to avoid it.
What would be the point of walking up to a hurricane and asking, “Why are you coming this way?”
However, Isabella wasn't saying this without thought.
“It’s not a disaster we can avoid anyway.”
“Ah…”
“Hmm…”
“That makes sense.”
Isabella’s words hit the nail on the head.
If they could avoid it, that would be one thing, but this was a natural disaster they couldn't escape from the start.
“In that case, it’s better to find out the cause and gather information so we can respond appropriately later.”
“Phew… I see. Is there no other way?”
“Senior. This is the best choice.”
“We have no choice.”
“Please, make a decision!”
And so…
“Um, Patrick?”
“Hmm? Why are you calling me, Senior?”
Alex approached Patrick as the representative.
There had been a fierce debate over who should go, but Alex had been saddled with the dangerous mission simply because he was the top student of the highest year.
I’m only the senior and the top student at times like this. You bastards…
Looking at his juniors and peers who were desperately avoiding his gaze, Alex let out a deep sigh.
Then, he spoke to Patrick cautiously.
“You seem to be in a particularly good mood today?”
“Hahaha. Senior, you know why.”
I don't know shit.
I wish I actually knew, you brat.
Alex spoke in the most careful voice possible.
“The thing is, unlike you, we don't really know the reason.”
“Huh?”
“So, we’d be really grateful if you could tell us. Not just me, but all of us. Including the Princess over there. All of us. Us.”
Alex’s desperate struggle to avoid taking the fall alone was evident.
Patrick’s expression slowly stiffened, and he spoke.
“Uh… Senior. Is this also part of the plan? Or just…? No way… really?”
“…What is?”
“Weren't you guys preparing a surprise event?”
“…I’m asking, for what?”
“Today is my sixteenth birthday.”
“……”
“The once-in-a-lifetime Coming-of-age Ceremony.”
Seeing the look of utter hollow disappointment on Patrick’s face, Alex and everyone else thought the same thing.
We’re fucked.