Chapter 134: Are You Crazy? Why Aren't You Meeting Him? (1)
Chapter 134: Are You Crazy? Why Aren't You Meeting Him? (1)
Grit.
Garcia was beyond displeased.
To be honest, he didn't even understand half of what Patrick was saying. However, one thing was crystal clear: his opponent was treating him like a complete amateur.
He never imagined he would be looked down upon like this by someone his own age—someone even younger than himself.
Garcia glanced at his crumpled shield and set it aside.
Clang.
He gripped his sword with both hands, assuming a formal stance.
"It seems I have disappointed you."
"You have."
Does this bastard think his tongue will fall out if he tries to be even a little polite?
Griiiiiit!
"Careful, you're going to break your teeth, kid."
"From this moment on, I will make sure you aren't disappointed."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm not falling for that," Patrick replied listlessly.
Ignoring him, Garcia focused his strength with absolute seriousness.
"Huuup!"
Aura began to billow from his sword. It surged past the 5-star and 6-star levels, flickering like a raging wildfire. Then, crossing a certain threshold, the aura began to condense and take a solid shape.
And then...
Vwoooom!
Finally, Garcia’s aura took form. A blade of pure light, radiating brilliance.
The moment it was completed, screams erupted from the spectator stands.
"O-Oura Blade!"
"This is insane. This makes no sense!"
"Waaaaah!"
"As expected of the Empire! As expected of the Sword Saint’s grandson!"
It was the moment a second 7-star swordsman appeared at Arcana.
The Aura Blade. The most brilliant sword of light in the world.
Anyone who has ever held a sword dreams of this moment. They spend their entire lives striving for the day a blade of light will manifest in their hands. But in reality, only a tiny fraction of the strongest can actually produce one.
That is why a 7-star swordsman is said to have reached the Supreme Realm.
"What a load of crap."
Yet, there was someone watching this master of the Supreme Realm with a look of utter boredom.
"Hmm..."
Garcia was actually flustered by the unexpected reaction. He had anticipated seeing bewilderment, shock, or even fear on Patrick’s face. He certainly didn't expect to see him digging in his ear with his pinky finger.
Patrick remained completely indifferent even as he stared at Garcia’s Aura Blade. If anything, he looked slightly disappointed—as if to say, Is that all you’ve got?
Garcia glared at him and spoke.
"Does a man who calls himself a swordsman truly consider the Aura Blade so trivial?"
"Yeah. It's trivial."
"If you cannot cast aside such narrow-mindedness, you will never be able to draw light from your sword for the rest of your—"
Flash!
"—light... from... your..."
Garcia’s voice trailed off, his jaw dropping.
Before him, Patrick held up his twin swords, both wreathed in vivid Aura Blades.
"What about it?" Patrick asked.
"Uh..."
"Does this look that impressive to you? Does a swordsman’s life end once they can pump out some aura?"
"......"
"You pathetic brat. Where I come from, kids who can do this are a dime a dozen. A dime a dozen!"
Well, the Jianghu was indeed that kind of place.
But Garcia, who had no way of knowing that, couldn't even close his mouth. The audience had moved past shock into a state where their sense of reality was beginning to warp.
"This is impossible!"
"What the hell is going on with Arcana this year?"
"Since when were 7-star matches this common?"
"There's no way! Something is definitely wrong with Arcana this year. It has to be."
Until now, the highest level reached by an Arcana winner was 6-star. Depending on the year, even a 5-star practitioner could take the trophy.
But the 7-star realm? And not just one person, but three?
The only ones not surprised by this sight were the few who had already suspected Patrick’s true level.
Professor Late and Professor Baroque.
And the Empire’s Sword Saint—none of them were shocked to see the Aura Blades blooming from Patrick’s twin swords.
I knew it.
I figured he could at least do that much.
The speed of his aura generation was remarkably fast. It’s a shame, but Garcia was never an opponent he could handle in the first place.
The Sword Saint had always believed his grandson was the greatest genius on the continent. But when placed before a monster like Patrick Schneider, even that grandson’s brilliance faded. There was no other way to put it: they were in different leagues.
I thought he might have a chance, but I suppose I asked too much of Garcia.
Garcia bit his lip hard. He had always believed the world revolved around him. He was born the grandson of the Sword Saint. He had grown into a genius with talent that everyone acknowledged.
The future Sword Saint. The future strongest man on the continent.
A future more brilliant and shining than anyone else's had been laid out for him. All he had to do was walk the path and achieve those milestones one by one.
But now, all of that was crumbling.
What on earth was this? What was he looking at?
Drawing an Aura Blade was as natural to this boy as breathing. Furthermore, the sheer volume of aura pouring from his two swords simultaneously was overwhelmingly superior to his own.
Why did such a monster have to appear before him?
No, not yet.
After all, you never know who's taller until you stand back-to-back...
"Tsk. Do you really need to measure it to know?"
"...?"
Garcia jumped at Patrick’s words. His thoughts had been read perfectly.
Patrick smirked and said to Garcia, "Don't look so surprised. It’s not like I haven't seen this before."
"What are you talking about?"
"Kids like you, who’ve had everything go their way and lived like they’re the center of the universe—you always act like this when you hit your first wall."
"I asked what you mean!"
As Garcia shouted in desperation, Patrick shrugged.
"Denying reality and trying to hypnotize yourself?"
"Shut up!"
Unable to listen to Patrick any longer, Garcia roared and charged forward. Their swords collided.
K-BOOOOOM!
"Uwaaaaah!"
"R-Run!"
"Get back!"
A clash between Aura Blades.
The dignitaries in the front rows scrambled away in terror. They hadn't even begun a full-scale exchange yet, but the shockwaves were already incomparable to anything before.
In that moment, the Sword Saint stepped to the front of the waiting area and commanded, "Knights of 6-star rank and above from all nations, protect the spectators!"
Immediately, over a dozen knights stepped forward. Only then did the audience recognize him.
"That person is..."
"Oh, it's the Sword Saint!"
"He actually came!"
The Sword Saint’s appearance was a massive story in itself. But right now, the audience was more curious about something else.
A 7-star versus 7-star clash. Who would emerge victorious?
Believing they would regret it for the rest of their lives if they missed this, the spectators stayed in their seats despite the ear-splitting thunder of the battle.
Garcia’s swordsmanship was truly destructive. He was pouring everything into his Aura Blade, attacking Patrick with murderous intent. Even if he had only just entered the 7-star realm, it was still the 7-star realm. Its destructive power was absolute. However...
Bang! Boom! Crash!
The powerful strikes were leveling the arena, but Garcia’s sword failed to reach its target. Patrick calmly parried and dodged every blow, even letting out a small smirk. And then...
"This brat..."
Suddenly, Patrick’s body blurred and vanished. When he reappeared, he was right in front of Garcia. In the next instant, Garcia saw stars.
Thwack!
"Ugh..."
"You're just swinging that thing around, aren't you? You call that swordsmanship? That’s just a temper tantrum."
Having been punched in the face, Garcia’s rage reached its boiling point.
"PATRICK SCHNEIDERRRRR!"
"What? What? What?"
Thud! Crack! Bam!
A perfect triple combination of a punch, an elbow, and a knee landed squarely. Garcia tumbled backward across the ground. He scrambled up and swung his sword with all his might, but...
Craaaaash!
His full-power strike was effortlessly shattered by a casual swing from Patrick. As Garcia stood dazed, watching his Aura Blade break into pieces, Patrick’s fist connected again.
"Gah..."
It was a one-sided beating. He looked no different from anyone else who had faced Patrick. He was the grandson of the Sword Saint, a 7-star swordsman of the Supreme Realm. Yet, before Patrick Schneider, he was just another victim.
Patrick kicked Garcia in the torso, sending him flying, and then spoke.
"Do it right! Who just swings a sword like that? Get your head in the game!"
"Damn it, what do you think you're doing in the middle of a match?" Garcia cried out in humiliation. "Show some respect to your opponent!"
At Garcia’s valid point, Patrick gave him a mocking look.
"Oh? Look at this guy and his double standards."
"What?"
"Hey, kid. What did you say when you fought our Senior Alex?"
"Urgh, that was..."
"Didn't you call him a pathetic, trashy loser who was making a disgusting scene by struggling when he was so weak? Huh?"
"......"
When did I...?
* * *
"I don't think he went that far..." Alex muttered, his shoulders slumped.
* * *
Garcia didn't recall saying those exact words. However...
Is this how it felt?
There was a reason his face burned despite the unfair accusation. He didn't even need to look back at the example of Alex. He had often looked down on those who challenged him with everything they had, offering them 'advice' from his high horse.
Now that the roles were reversed, he finally understood. He realized just how disrespectful and insulting it was.
"This brat starts swinging wildly because he thinks he's going to lose, and now he's trying to lecture me? You've got a long way to go, you greenhorn!"
"......"
This was likely what people meant when they said they were speechless. Patrick’s words were crude and violent, but was there any lie in them? No. Every word was the truth.
"Huuuu..."
Garcia let out a long, deep sigh. In that moment, he became aware of his own immaturity. He was finally able to truly look at himself.
I was arrogant. I tried to express my inferiority complex toward my grandfather through a petty sense of superiority over my peers.
He felt ashamed. For the first time, he realized his own faults. At that moment, Garcia felt something that had been blocked within him finally break free.
Garcia closed his eyes. When he opened them again...
"Huuuu..."
He had changed. The vanity and arrogance—the obstacles that had hindered his growth—had vanished one by one.
"Thank you."
Garcia stood with his sword held to his chest in a formal knight’s salute toward Patrick. At Garcia’s sincere gratitude, Patrick replied indifferently.
"Finally come to your senses?"
"Yes. It is thanks to you."
"Hmm..."
Patrick studied Garcia. His face was swollen from the beating, and his once-pristine clothes were torn and filthy from rolling on the ground. But the confusion had vanished from his eyes, replaced by a clear, sharp light.
"A talented guy is a talented guy, I guess."
"......"
"Don't go blushing on me. It’s not like you’re some peerless beauty."
"Ahem..."
"Well, anyway..."
Patrick gripped his swords and took a stance.
"Let's finish this."
There was no longer any reason to continue this tournament. He had achieved his goals and had some fun along the way. Being able to see a Paladin using Divine Power and a Magic Swordsman from the Tower of Truth in person had been a good harvest. Seeing the Sword Saint for himself was also a great experience. Above all, watching the 'kids' struggle and grow was quite rewarding.
Since his goals were met, all that remained was to provide the final stroke—the finishing touch to the masterpiece.
Once this tournament ended, the name Patrick Schneider would spread across the entire continent. While fame was good, it also invited enemies. Thus, Patrick had decided from the start: he would not show a half-hearted performance. He had to display power so overwhelming that no one would even dare to think, Should I try picking a fight with him?
Therefore...
I'll show them properly, just once.
The true essence of the Radiant Dragon Hero, Jincheon.
"Huh?"
"What is that...?"
"Eh?"
The spectators rubbed their eyes in disbelief. The nature of the energy surrounding Patrick’s body seemed visible. It wasn't just aura or Divine Power; it was fighting spirit taking a form like a spirit...
"A dragon?"
"A snake?"
"What is that? I'm not the only one seeing this, right?"
None of them had ever seen a dragon, yet in this moment, they could see it. They saw Patrick’s energy transforming into something.
Martial arts is the tempering of the body and the manipulation of qi. But once one enters the stage of Intent, the body and qi become means rather than ends. They become the tools to manifest one's Mind-Body Manifestation.
That was the Divine Realm Secret Technique.
Twin Dragons Eight Sword Styles
Sixth Form
Nine Dragons Under Heaven
In an instant, aura shaped into nine dragons erupted from Patrick. The nine massive dragons flew forward as if they possessed a will of their own. Garcia had to face them head-on.
"Ah... Aaaaah..."
Garcia lost all will to resist. Was this even possible? Could a human sword create something so destructive and majestic? It was impossible to oppose. He even felt it would be irreverent to try. He could only watch as the majestic and ecstatic sight before him prepared to swallow him whole.
In that moment, only one person in the entire arena could move.
"GARCIAAAAA!"
The Sword Saint roared and leaped onto the arena. Tournament rules be damned; he had to stop this. How could he just watch as his grandson was about to be killed by such a monstrous attack? He was his only successor. His own flesh and blood, more precious than his own eyes.
The Sword Saint gritted his teeth and drew his sword. An Aura Blade far larger than any normal one manifested on his blade. It was a massive pillar of light. The continent’s strongest man, the Sword Saint, was showing his true power.
"UOOOOOOOH!"
He moved to strike down the monster threatening his grandson. However...
"My, you certainly are overprotective."
A low voice whispered in the Sword Saint’s ear.
That was the end of it.
In an instant, everything vanished like a mirage. The dragons of aura that had been emitting a terrifying pressure as if to destroy the world were gone. The traces of destruction where the dragons had clawed the ground remained, but the energy itself had melted away just before reaching Garcia.
All that remained was Patrick, gently resting his sword against Garcia’s neck.
"......"
The Sword Saint, who had jumped onto the stage, stood frozen with his blade of light, staring blankly at the scene. Patrick gave the Sword Saint a brief glance, then ignored him and spoke to the man behind him.
"Referee?"
"......"
"Hey, old man?"
"A-Ah... Ahem..."
The dazed referee finally snapped back to reality and did his duty.
"The winner: Patrick Schneider!"
Patrick Schneider, 16 years old.
That was the name of the Arcana champion.