Chapter 141: Coming on Too Strong (1)
Chapter 141: Coming on Too Strong (1)
The general business had been settled.
He had won Arcana, requisitioned—or rather, "received"—massive gifts from the nobility, and reached a tentative agreement with the mages of the Tower of Truth and the elves.
As for how that agreement went…
"As soon as the Tower reaches a decision, I shall return. So please, you must wait for us."
"Are you going to give me a Soul Weapon?"
"How many times must I tell you that is an excessive demand?"
"And how many times must I tell you? If you don't like it, forget it."
"Ugh…!"
The mage from the Tower of Truth felt like he was going to lose his mind.
How could he express this frustration and resentment? Something he desired so desperately was right before his eyes, yet it remained utterly out of reach.
As the mage clutched the back of his neck as if about to faint, Patrick waved a handkerchief at him.
"Safe travels."
"Just you wait! I will return! I definitely will!"
"What are you, a Demon King?" Patrick muttered.
The mage screamed at the top of his lungs that he would obtain permission from the Seven Sages and return. Patrick didn't know what kind of answer they would bring back, but…
Well, it’s not like I’m the one losing out.
Patrick just had to wait leisurely.
And as for the elves…
"Lord Patrick, we shall take our leave for now."
Elione’s eyes were filled with lingering regret as she spoke. She held Patrick’s hand tightly and pleaded repeatedly.
"You must visit our forest as soon as possible. Do you understand?"
"As soon as possible… by when exactly?"
Patrick pondered.
Traveling all the way to Evergreen in the northern part of the continent right now would make for a very tight schedule. However, considering his future plans, the cooperation of the elves was too valuable to give up. If that was the case, even if he had to push himself a little…
"We only have about thirty years at most."
"……."
Ah, right. They’re elves.
Realizing the schedule was much more relaxed than he thought, Patrick gave a warm smile.
"I’m busy, but I suppose it can’t be helped. I’ll try to visit once within the next thirty years. I have some business of my own to attend to there, anyway."
"Ah… thank you, Lord Patrick."
With that, the elves showered Patrick with gifts and departed, repeatedly urging him to visit Evergreen.
Elione, in particular, looked at Patrick with eyes dripping with honey.
During the process of True Qi Guidance, where she had become one with the World Tree, she had developed an intense affection for him. While elven affection was typically said to be as light and clear as water, the passion in her expression was more akin to that of a human woman.
At any rate, all issues were resolved.
Now, all that remained was…
"Let’s head out."
At Patrick’s short command, the other companions let out sighs of relief. They had been worried about what other trouble this madman might stir up, but it seemed he was finally ready to go.
"We’re finally leaving."
"I hope the trip back is a bit more comfortable."
"Tell me about it."
The group packed their bags.
Their luggage had grown several times larger than when they arrived. Most of it consisted of gifts Patrick had received as the Arcana champion, and as a result, they had to hire additional carriages and drivers.
Standing at the front of the long procession after all the luggage was loaded, Professor Late spoke.
"Everyone did a great job. Now, let's return to our kingdom."
"Yes, sir!"
"Finally going home."
"Farewell, Magellan Kingdom!"
And so, the Arcana tournament—hailed as the greatest in history—came to a close.
* * *
"There they are!"
"They’re coming! They’re finally here!"
"Waaaaaaaah!"
It was a return of unparalleled splendor.
Not only had they washed away the disgrace of the Atronia Kingdom, which had never secured a single victory in Arcana before, but they had even produced the champion.
It was the first such feat since the founding of the kingdom.
The citizens of White Town, who had cheered somewhat reluctantly when the group left, now came out of their own accord, scattering flowers and cheering wildly.
"Look over here! Over here!"
"Kyaaa! He looked this way!"
"Which one is Young Lord Patrick?"
"Who is the Double Dragon?"
"Princess Isabellaaaa!"
From boys desperately jumping to catch a glimpse of the Arcana champion amidst the dense crowd, to girls swooning if they so much as made eye contact while scattering flowers…
It was certainly a world of difference from before.
"Senior, what do we do about this?"
"I think this has gotten out of hand."
"Well, it’s a big deal, so it makes sense. But still…"
The students were frozen stiff. The scene before them far exceeded their expectations.
The central boulevard of White Town, usually wide enough for eight carriages to pass abreast, was carpeted with flower petals. Crowds packed both sides of the street, and the extravagant welcoming party stretched all the way to the royal palace.
The reaction was so intense that the knights had to work desperately to control the crowd.
Haha… well, now…
They had expected a welcome. But this level of hospitality far surpassed what these young men in their twenties had anticipated. The overwhelming reception was enough to make one’s head spin and numb their sense of reality.
Among them, only one person remained unchanged.
Patrick looked exactly as he always did.
"Don't get cold feet. Shoulders back, heads up. And just keep your eyes forward."
This fearless bastard…
I thought he just lacked a conscience, but he’s got no fear either.
Is that a trait of the Demon Clan?
Was it composure? Calmness? No, the way he sat on his horse, letting out a long yawn, could only be described as "familiarity."
Still, thanks to Patrick’s nonchalant attitude, the others were able to relax their tension slightly—enough to manage awkward smiles and wave to the people around them.
Patrick smirked at his seniors.
You poor country bumpkins.
He was the Radiant Dragon Hero, Jincheon.
To be called a "Hero" in the Martial World, one generally had to have performed many righteous deeds.
Beating up mountain bandits.
Beating up thieves.
Beating up pirates.
Beating up lecherous fiends…
Wait, was I just called that because I was good at fighting?
Regardless, Patrick had been a Great Hero in his past life.
Whenever he settled a major incident, the high-ranking officials of the Murim Alliance would look like they’d swallowed a toad, but the commoners would scatter flowers in his path, hold his hands, and shed tears of gratitude.
To Patrick, who would return after crushing a den of vicious bandits or rescuing children kidnapped by pirates, they would offer the highest praise they could muster.
Just like they were doing now.
"This brings back memories," Patrick muttered.
Alex, riding beside him, grumbled, "Exactly how old are you that you’re always talking about 'memories'?"
"Tsk, tsk. What would a senior like you know?"
"Hey, you brat—"
"Oh, look, it’s His Majesty the King."
Alex’s mouth snapped shut.
At the end of White Town’s central boulevard, the King himself had come out to greet them.
"Before the presence of the legitimate and sole ruler of the Atronia Kingdom, His Majesty King Fiesto Cloria Atronia! Everyone, kneel!"
At the attendant’s booming voice, the entire delegation, led by Professor Late, dismounted, knelt, and bowed their heads.
The King looked at the group with a benevolent smile and spoke.
"Everyone, raise your heads."
Once permission was granted and everyone looked up, the King spoke again.
"Patrick Schneider, step forward."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
As Patrick stepped forward, the King said with a hint of a smile, "It seems you weren't just all talk."
"How could I dare speak falsehoods before Your Majesty?"
Previously, Patrick had spoken of winning Arcana and demanded a reward. At the time, the King had dismissed him as a mere brat—a cocky youngster whose confidence had outrun his grasp of reality.
But the situation had changed.
Patrick, who had returned after fulfilling his word, was no longer a brat; he was a national hero.
"I believe I made a promise to you back then?"
"Yes. I remember it clearly."
[The words of a King carry a weight unlike any other. If a champion of Arcana emerges from our kingdom, I shall grant his wish, whatever it may be, so long as it is within my power.]
It was a statement the King had publicly declared before everyone prior to the departure for Arcana.
Even a King could not take it back. Or rather, because he was a King, he couldn't take it back.
The King had unexpectedly found himself in Patrick’s debt.
"It seems we have much to discuss. We shall speak privately after the welcoming banquet."
"I shall look forward to it, Your Majesty."
After that brief exchange, the King took Patrick’s hand and raised it high.
"Praise them! The heroes have returned!"
"Waaaaaaaah!"
"Patrick Schneider!"
"Double Dragon!"
"Long live the Atronia Kingdom!"
Huh. Did I get a nickname?
Patrick grinned as he heard "Double Dragon" mixed in among the cheers.
"Double Dragon, eh…?"
He actually quite liked the sound of that.
* * *
A banquet so grand and lavish it would make a royal attendant scream was held.
The doors to the Great Hall of the palace, usually opened only for royal birthdays, were thrown wide, and the most prominent nobles of the kingdom were invited.
The food, the wine, the music—everything was of the highest quality.
However, among the many treasures gathered there, the most brilliant were the people.
"A pleasure to meet you, Young Lord Patrick Schneider. I am Viscount Oliveira."
"Pleasure to meet you, Viscount."
"Congratulations on your Arcana victory. I never thought I’d see a champion from our kingdom in my lifetime."
"I was fortunate."
Viscount Oliveira tried to lead into a deeper conversation, but it was impossible.
"Young Lord Schneider, we haven't met. I am Count Randall. Are you perhaps interested in wine? The wine from my territory is the finest in the kingdom."
"Now, now, move aside. Young Lord Schneider, I am Count Lator. I’ve heard rumors of a brilliant talent emerging from the East for some time now."
"Young Lord Schneider, perhaps you could meet my daughter—"
Patrick Schneider.
Son of a rural Baron’s family.
No fiancée yet.
Arcana champion.
7-Star swordsman.
Do you know what that meant to the nobility?
He was a "big fish." One they had to catch at all costs.
He had defeated the successor of the Sword Saint, proven his 7-Star realm, and stood tall as the champion of the most competitive Arcana in history. There was no need to even discuss his future value. His value right now was a jackpot.
Anyone who let this slip through their fingers would regret it for the rest of their lives.
Nobles desperate to arrange a marriage with their daughters swarmed Patrick. Among them were many who didn't even care if he took their daughter as a concubine rather than a primary wife.
"Hey, let me get a word in too!"
"How dare a mere Viscount butt in where he doesn't belong?"
"Oh? And? Are you richer than me?"
"What did you say?"
The terrifying obsession of the nobles was something even Patrick had never experienced before.
Is this what nobles are really like? I thought honor and face were the most important things to them.
That depended on the situation. While martial artists also engaged in political marriages, it was nothing compared to the nobility. For those who inherited power through bloodlines, marriage was a far more critical issue.
Usually, this kind of chaos…
"It’s been a while, Young Lord Schneider."
"Count Parmas."
…is settled when a heavyweight appears.
Count Jeyton Parmas.
The Margrave of the East and a power player who ranked within the top ten in the entire kingdom. At his appearance, the other nobles slunk back.
Count Parmas stepped through them with a smile.
"It really has been a while. Not since that bandit subjugation incident."
"Indeed. It’s been quite some time."
"Hahaha. Recommending you as a transfer student to the Academy was a good move, even if I do say so myself. I never imagined you’d achieve the feat of winning Arcana."
"It’s all thanks to you, Count. I am always grateful."
Initially, Patrick had wanted to throttle the Count for making him go to the Academy. Unaware of this, Count Parmas laughed heartily.
"Hahaha. Well, I’m glad to hear that. Ah, how have things been with my daughter lately?"
"If you mean the Young Lady Parmas…"
"Patrick!"
Before Patrick could finish, a woman came running toward them, her sky-blue dress fluttering.
Marianne Parmas.
The only daughter of Count Parmas and a student in the Academy’s Administration Department, she had rushed over in a hurry.
Arriving before Patrick, she fanned herself to cool the sweat on her forehead.
"I’m sorry. There were some annoying people on the way…"
"It’s been a while, Senior Marianne."
"I told you to just call me Marianne."
As she spoke, Marianne subtly linked her arm with Patrick’s. Her dress had a daringly low neckline. Naturally, Patrick felt the sensation of her chest pressing against his arm…
I don't feel anything. Just how much padding did she put in there?
Ninety percent of what he felt was the elasticity of cotton balls.
Wow, this is a total scam.
Even the great Patrick was quite flustered by this.
Regardless, to everyone else, it looked like Patrick and Marianne were sharing an intimate moment. Even so, such bold physical contact right in front of the girl’s father was a grave violation of Confucian values…
"Hahaha! A fine sight. Being young is truly a wonderful thing, isn't it?"
Ah, right. There’s no Confucius or Mencius here.
What a wonderful world.
Far from being displeased by his daughter’s bold physical contact, Count Parmas laughed boisterously. And then…
"The music happens to be lovely. Why don't you two go have a dance and catch up?"
"I will, Father."
"Understood."
Sensing it wasn't an atmosphere where he could refuse, Patrick took Marianne’s hand and headed to the dance floor.
Count Parmas watched them with a glass of champagne in hand, a satisfied smile on his face.
Hehehe. I knew he was a talent, but I didn't expect a jackpot of this magnitude…
When he first recommended Patrick to the Academy, it was largely out of gratitude for saving his daughter. In fact, arranging a mid-term admission to the Academy—especially the highly competitive Knight Department—had been quite a burden even for Count Parmas. He’d had to send many humble letters to various people to ask for cooperation, and every bit of that cooperation was a political debt.
But now, the situation had changed.
Arcana champion. 7-Star swordsman.
Debt? What debt?
Now, the people he had asked for favors back then were the ones who owed him. Count Parmas had found a pearl—no, a diamond—hidden in the dirt of the East and recommended it to them.
And that diamond…
Is entirely mine.
He was the only one who had recognized Patrick’s value and supported him before he became famous. And now these flies were swarming around, trying to get a piece of that gem?
He looked coldly at the nobles lurking nearby, waiting for an opportunity.
Don't even dream about it. I already staked my claim.
Seeing the happy expression on his daughter’s face as she danced with Patrick, he resolved to send a marriage proposal to the Schneider Barony as soon as they returned to the East.