Chapter 137: Get Out, You Bastards (2)
Chapter 137: Get Out, You Bastards (2)
At first, he thought he had misheard.
Howzen, a mage from the sixth floor of the Tower of Truth, couldn't help but doubt his own ears.
However, seeing his colleagues on either side of him staring with their mouths agape in shock, he realized the truth.
He hadn't misheard a thing.
"What… what did you just say?"
As Howzen stammered in fury, Patrick picked at his ear with a look of utter boredom.
"I thought you’d just lost your mind, but have you gone deaf too?"
"How dare you!"
Howzen surged to his feet, trembling with rage.
Mages of the Tower of Truth were neither nobility nor royalty. However, considering the influence the Tower exerted over the world, its mages were treated with far more respect than most aristocrats.
Howzen, in particular, was a mage who had descended from the sixth floor. It wasn't an exaggeration to say his status was equivalent to that of a Marquis of a kingdom.
And yet, for a mere brat without so much as a title—even if he was the winner of the Arcana—to insult him like this…
Shaking with indignation, Howzen spoke.
"Take back those words and apologize this instant. If you do not, I will hold your family—no, the entire Atronia Kingdom—accountable."
"Wow! Listen to this guy spout bullshit with such grandeur."
"You insolent—"
"So, it’s not rude for you to demand someone else’s secret techniques, but it’s rude for me to say what I said?"
"……."
"Shall we settle this? Let’s see who started this fight with ridiculous nonsense first."
As Patrick glared at him coldly, Howzen clamped his mouth shut. He suddenly found himself at a loss for words.
To the mages of the Tower of Truth, knowledge was like treasure. It was so extreme that there was a saying: You might lend out your wife or child, but you never lend out your research journals.
Thus, they knew better than anyone how incredibly rude it was to unilaterally demand someone’s secret technique.
Howzen looked away, his expression awkward as he avoided Patrick’s gaze.
"I… I didn't know it was a secret technique."
"Oh, really? Did it look that trivial to you?"
"Ahem…."
"And yet, you wanted to learn it?"
"Well, that’s because…."
"Or what? Did you think that because I’m just the son of a powerless Baron from a weak nation, I’d say, 'Oh, of course! Please, take it! It is the honor of three lifetimes to be of help to the precious mages of the Tower of Truth'?"
"Uh… well…."
"Uh… well… what? What do you want me to do? Huh?"
"……."
He couldn't offer a single word of rebuttal.
What kind of guy is this?
Howzen was now breaking into a cold sweat. In truth, a part of him had thought exactly that. Even if he was the winner of the Arcana, wasn't the boy just the son of a Baron from the Atronia Kingdom? He assumed the boy wouldn't dare refuse, given the authority of the Tower of Truth.
But the opponent had charged at him head-on, and quite blatantly at that.
I didn't know he was this kind of person.
At this rate, not only his own reputation but the honor of the Tower of Truth could be tarnished.
Howzen spoke cautiously.
"We aren't asking for it for free. If you cooperate with us, we will provide corresponding compensation."
"Corresponding compensation? Like what? Money?"
"……."
"Look at this old man. I have plenty of money too. I’m also ri… pfft… rich… haha…."
Seeing Patrick’s suspicious behavior, his companions whispered among themselves.
"What’s wrong with him?"
"He seems happy just being able to call himself rich."
"Ah… I see."
"That makes sense."
"It’s perfectly possible. For a guy like him, anyway."
They understood. They didn't realize how strange they had become for understanding Patrick Schneider, though.
Howzen frowned and said, "If money won't do, is there anything else you desire? We could grant your family the distribution rights for magical tools within the kingdom."
Daily-use magical tools had already become indispensable necessities. Granting distribution rights for them was more than just a path to wealth; it was like building a bed out of gold. However….
"Tsk, tsk. That’s just money in the end. I told you, money won't cut it."
"Then what on earth do you want?"
"Are you willing to match whatever I want?"
"I will do anything within my power."
The words Patrick wanted finally came out of Howzen’s mouth.
Patrick smirked inwardly and spoke.
"Then, can you give me a Soul Weapon?"
"What?"
"That’s absurd!"
"Are you insane?"
At Patrick’s words, every mage from the Tower of Truth jumped to their feet and shouted.
Soul Weapons were the exclusive property of the Tower of Truth, held only by them. In the past, when mages were weak and pushed around by everyone, these weapons allowed them to protect themselves and grow into one of the Three Great Powers, rivaling the Empire and the Holy Kingdom.
The Emperor of the Empire and the Pope of the Holy Kingdom had requested Soul Weapons dozens of times, but the Tower of Truth had never complied.
And now, this brat wanted one?
"That is impossible. Soul Weapons are weapons that must be held only by the Tower of Truth."
"My secret technique is the same."
"That’s…."
"No room for compromise? Then get out. If we can't find common ground, why waste any more time?"
At Patrick’s words, Howzen looked as if his chest were tightening.
Patrick was right. If communication was this impossible, it might be better to give up and withdraw. However….
No. I cannot give up.
Mages were a breed that would risk their lives for the sake of curiosity. The sword flight art or the intent techniques Patrick had shown them were research subjects they coveted far too much.
To give up and just go back? It would be easier for a cat to give up fish or for Patrick to give up money.
"Think carefully. Even if we gave you a Soul Weapon, you wouldn't be able to use it anyway, would you?"
"I can't use it?"
"Indeed. To wield a Soul Weapon, one must undergo years of training. That process is also a secret technique held by the Tower of Truth."
"Oh… is that so?"
"It is. So don't be greedy for no reason and tell us something possible. If you want…."
"Hey. You there. Yeah, the one who likes logic."
Patrick pointed at Riman Sierra, who had fought him previously at the Arcana.
Riman pushed up his glasses and said, "My name is Riman Sierra, Patrick Schneider."
"Whatever. Lend me that for a second."
At Patrick’s words, Howzen frowned. "What are you trying to do?"
"I’m going to show you something interesting. Hey, hurry up and give it to me. Give me the one that spits fire."
At Patrick’s request, Riman glanced at Howzen. Howzen nodded his permission, and Riman took off his bracelet and handed it to Patrick.
"The activation word is 'Ignil.' Not that you’ll be able to use it anyway."
"Yeah, yeah. Just watch."
Patrick put the bracelet on his wrist, infused it with a bit of Qi, and nodded.
Hmm… as I thought, this should work.
Patrick smirked and spoke.
"Ignil."
In that moment, Howzen scoffed. If a Soul Weapon were something that could be handled so easily, it would have been leaked to the Empire or the Holy Kingdom long ago. The method of use was a top secret, just as much as the method of creation….
Fwoooooosh!
"Whoa! Turn it off! Turn it off! Whoa, this thing has a temper!"
An enormous torrent of flame erupted from Patrick’s hand. The fire soared upward, scorching the ceiling of the room, and Patrick hurriedly withdrew his Qi.
But perhaps because the flame had been too large?
Howzen, who had been standing close by, now looked a mess, his beard singed into charred curls.
As Howzen stood there with his mouth hanging open, Patrick spoke.
"Uh… sorry about that. It wasn't intentional."
"……."
"Are you listening?"
"……."
"Hey, old man?"
"How…?"
"Huh? How what?"
"HOW DID YOU DO THAAAAAT!?"
Howzen’s scream of pure shock echoed loudly through the room.
* * *
The mages of the Tower of Truth eventually left.
Howzen and the other mages had clung to Patrick as if they were going to bite him, but Patrick had held his ground with a nonchalant attitude.
[Well, then give me a Soul Weapon.]
Since he kept insisting on that, there was nothing they could do.
In truth, they wanted to study Patrick’s secret technique even if it meant giving him a Soul Weapon. But that was impossible. Although they were high-ranking officials within the Tower, they didn't have the authority to hand over a Soul Weapon. That was a matter that had to be decided by a general assembly of the Seven Sages who resided at the very top of the Tower.
So, for now, they had no choice but to retreat and wait for another day.
[We shall withdraw for now. But mark my words: we will definitely return.]
[What are you, some Demon Lord who just got sealed?]
[Grrr….]
They ground their teeth, but they left. However, they showed no sign of giving up. What Patrick had shown them was just that precious.
Waving his hand at the mages who were leaving with lingering gazes, Patrick thought to himself.
I’ve cast the bait, so something’s bound to bite.
From Patrick’s perspective, there were many benefits to be gained from the mages. That was why he hadn't cut them off completely and had instead shown them something they would find fascinating. Now, he just had to wait and see what kind of big fish would take the bait.
The incident regarding the Tower of Truth was settled for the time being. However, there was one more problem to solve.
"Why do the elves want to meet me?"
"How should I know? Maybe they want to check if you’re a demon or not?"
At Alex’s words, Karin, who was standing nearby, shook his head.
"Come on, Senior, there’s no way."
"Isn't it possible?"
"No. There’s no need to even check. This guy’s identity is undoubtedly a high-ranking demon who infiltrated the human world… Gack!"
"You’re getting cocky, aren't you?"
Karin, who had been sent flying by a blow to the head, shouted at Patrick.
"I’m your senior! You brat!"
"You’re only a senior if you’re better at fighting."
"……."
I hate this kid.
Karin slumped down, and Alex and Gerard patted him on the shoulder.
Regardless, it was extremely rare for elves to so actively request a meeting. While they did interact with humans, they only did so as much as was strictly necessary. It was the nature of the elven race not to get overly involved.
Yet, these elves had already requested an audience with Patrick several times.
"Well, I’ll find out once I meet them."
If you don't know, just face it head-on. That was the mindset of the Radiant Dragon Hero.
* * *
Elven warriors, their faces completely covered by black masks, stood before Patrick.
Nothing was visible except for their eyes through the slits in the masks and their pointed ears. However….
"I am called Elione."
Wow, her voice is incredible….
Was this what they called a 'heavenly voice'? Even the beautiful voice of the top-tier courtesan in Xiangzhou, who used to receive ten gold taels for a single song in his past life, wasn't this good. It was a seductive, clear voice that could make an ordinary person feel lightheaded just by hearing it.
Patrick calmed his breathing and spoke.
"I am Patrick Schneider of the Atronia Kingdom. What is the business for which you wished to see me?"
To his direct question, the other party replied with that celestial voice.
"It is to invite Sir Patrick Schneider to our forest."
"The forest of the elves? Do you mean Evergreen?"
"That is correct."
The companions behind Patrick stirred greatly. Patrick, however, wore a look of confusion.
"Isn't that a territory where humans are strictly forbidden from approaching?"
Evergreen.
This forest, located to the north of the Caesar Kingdom, was the home of the elves and an absolute forbidden area where humans were not allowed entry. It was the forest where the World Tree resided, and countless elves had shed blood to protect it. It was a sacred and precious home.
According to the treaty with humans, if a human entered the forest of Evergreen, the elves held absolute power over their life and death. This meant that even the Emperor of the Empire or the Pope of the Holy Kingdom would have no grounds for complaint if they were killed by the elves upon entering Evergreen.
And they were asking him to go to such a forest?
"I don't want to die just yet."
At Patrick’s words, Elione spoke.
"This is a formal invitation. I, Elione, a member of the Elven Knights, will guarantee your safety."
"Wait, an Elven Knight? You were an Elven Knight?"
"Yes, I am."
"Really?"
Elven Knight.
It was a title given to warriors who had reached the highest rank among the elven race. While elves were not a bellicose race, it was a title that symbolized the pinnacle of their martial power. For humans, it was equivalent to at least a 7-Star Knight, or comparable to the 12 Paladins of the Holy Kingdom.
And she was an Elven Knight?
"Honestly, that’s hard to believe."
"And why is that?"
"You are far too weak to be an Elven Knight."
At Patrick’s blunt remark, the companions watching from behind were thrown into a panic.
"Hey, hey! Stop!"
"Watch your mouth! You brat, watch your mouth!"
"We’re sorry. This guy usually doesn't think before he speaks."
His companions were horrified and tried to stop him, but Patrick spoke nonchalantly.
"What, am I wrong? She got her ass kicked by a brat who isn't even a Paladin yet, so isn't she weak?"
"……."
"……."
Alex and the others could only stare at the corner of the ceiling with pitying expressions. The word 'consideration' clearly didn't exist in this guy’s dictionary.
But on the other hand, they also had a thought.
Actually, he has a point.
Shouldn't an Elven Knight be able to beat Antorius?
At the very least, she should have fought him to a draw.
It is strange.
The combat power of Elven Knights recorded in human literature was terrifying. There were records of them facing and defeating multiple 7-Star Knights in the forest, or the representative of the Elven Knights at the time fighting to a draw against an 8-Star Knight, the strongest of humanity. There were even records of several Elven Knights defeating an Undead Dragon summoned by demons.
Yet, such an Elven Knight had been unilaterally pushed back and defeated by Antorius, who hadn't even joined the 12 Paladins yet?
Honestly, it was strange.