Chapter 198: …Wi… fe? (2)
Chapter 198: …Wi… fe? (2)
Patrick looked around.
Kyrios was so heavily wounded it was a miracle he was even alive, and Elione was simply shielding him with her own body. The other elves nearby were also covered in various wounds, both great and small.
If I’d been just a little later, things would’ve turned out disastrously.
Patrick let out a sigh of relief.
To be honest, this was a mistake on his part. He knew that to fix the mess the elven race had become, it would be impossible without turning everything upside down. So, he had naturally amplified their discontent, goading the elves until a battle finally broke out.
Others might call him radical or even evil if they heard this, but Patrick knew better. This was the best way to set the broken elven race right. To excise a wound that had festered to the point of rot, pain was an absolute necessity.
That was why he had empowered the younger elves and fanned the flames of their frustration. However…
“I didn’t think they’d go this far.”
His mistake was assuming that, given the nature of elves, a battle wouldn't turn so cruel as to produce fatalities. He hadn't expected the Orthodox Faction to cross the line like this.
Patrick approached Kyrios and examined his wounds.
“Lord Patrick…”
Ignoring Elione’s tearful voice, he checked Kyrios’s condition. He had lost too much blood, and there were more than five fatal wounds on his body. In the parlance of the Central Plains, this was a state where even a Great Divine Immortal couldn't save him.
“Fortunately, I have something even better than a Great Divine Immortal right here.”
Saying that, Patrick pulled something out of his pocket. It was a necklace set with a pale green gemstone. Patrick placed it around Kyrios’s neck and spoke quietly.
“Sephiroth.”
Immediately, a brilliant, pale green light enveloped Kyrios’s entire body. And then…
“Ah… Ahhh…”
A smile of pure joy spread across Elione’s face.
The artifact had completely healed Kyrios’s body. Seeing him restored so perfectly that not even a tiny scar remained, Patrick remarked, “Wow… this really is a cheat item.”
Even his wife from his previous life, the one they called the Saintess, couldn't have healed someone like this. Regardless, Kyrios was saved. Thanks to an artifact that could save anyone as long as they weren't already dead—though it could only be used once a day.
Originally, this belonged to Marquis Luid of the Caesar Kingdom, but Patrick had claimed it for himself after lopping off the man’s head.
“I’m glad I didn’t sell it.”
It had certainly come in handy.
Looking around, no one seemed to be in worse shape than Kyrios had been. In other words, no one had died yet.
Patrick stood up, dusting himself off.
“Was my fantasy of the elven race too strong?”
Patrick looked at Yurahis, his expression turning cold.
“I didn't expect those who call themselves descendants of fairies to abandon their faith and convictions so easily for a mere handful of power.”
At Patrick’s words, Yurahis roared in fury.
“How dare a mere human insult the elves!”
“Insult, you say…?”
Patrick let out a short laugh. He turned his gaze fully toward Yurahis.
“Aren't you elves a race that worships and follows the World Tree as a god?”
“……”
“And who is it that’s currently driving nails into the dying World Tree?”
“……”
Yurahis’s face turned bright red at Patrick’s pointed question.
“And yet, what? Insult? Are you out of your mind?”
As if waiting for Patrick’s cue, condemnations poured in from all sides.
“He’s right. This is a betrayal of the entire race!”
“To think the Orthodox Faction had rotted this much…”
“Yurahis! Kantaros! Your corpses will never be buried in the shadow of the World Tree! Never!”
Yurahis couldn't utter a single word in response to the elves' voices, which were thick with hatred and resentment. He simply trembled, directing a gaze of pure venom toward Patrick.
“Look at that pathetic state…”
Patrick remained indifferent. He knew that look all too well. It was the expression worn by those who grew up like greenhouse flowers under the shadow of prestigious Orthodox Factions—those who made a mistake, made an even bigger one to cover it up, and were finally exposed to the world.
That expression never signified reflection or regret.
“You dare speak so recklessly without knowing the circumstances…”
“Yeah, yeah. I knew you’d say that.”
“……”
“In the end, you still don't think you did anything wrong, do you? Hmph, you really are the textbook definition of a hypocrite.”
“Double Dragon…!”
“It’s fine. I’m not angry. Actually, I prefer guys like you.”
Patrick rested his twin swords over his shoulders and spoke to Yurahis with a relaxed expression.
“A bastard like you, who knows neither reflection nor regret, is the most rewarding kind to beat the crap out of.”
Grind!
Yurahis gnashed his teeth, glaring at Patrick. Patrick took the gaze in stride and continued.
“Beating up someone who realizes they messed up and mopes around in self-reflection leaves a bad aftertaste. So…”
Patrick reached out a hand and beckoned with his fingers.
“Bring it, you son of a bitch. I’m going to shake you down until there’s nothing left of your soul.”
“DOUBLE DRAGOOOON!”
Yurahis lunged at Patrick with a scream filled with hatred.
*
“Silape! Flare!”
Summoning two high-level spirits simultaneously, Yurahis wreathed his body in wind and conjured dozens of fireballs around him. As he charged toward Patrick, the fireballs flew ahead and exploded against him.
BOOM!
The flames of a high-level spirit were hot enough to melt rock. At that terrifying explosion, the elves widened their eyes and cried out.
“Lord Patrick!”
“Noooo!”
Amidst their screams, only Elione spoke calmly.
“No, that didn't hit him.”
And as soon as she finished speaking…
Bam!
“Urgh…!”
Patrick, who had appeared at Yurahis’s flank out of nowhere, landed a clean strike.
“Oh… Ohhh…!”
“When did he dodge?”
“I didn't see him at all. I didn't even feel a presence…”
The elves were struck with admiration. Patrick’s Afterimage Step was not something they could perceive with their level of insight. Only Elione, who had seen Patrick in action back in Arcana, could have predicted it. More than anything, she had absolute faith.
There is no way that man would lose to someone like Yurahis.
As long as he was openly using spirits, Yurahis certainly possessed the skills befitting an Elven Knight. In fact, he was likely among the upper tier of Elven Knights. However…
“That won't be nearly enough.”
Even so, Elione was certain of Patrick’s victory. Even if ten versions of Yurahis attacked at once, she would still expect Patrick to win. It was entirely possible, considering the overwhelming power Patrick had displayed in Arcana.
Which meant…
“You have no chance of winning, Yurahis.”
As Elione spoke, her eyes followed Patrick as he began to unilaterally overwhelm Yurahis.
Thud! Bam! BOOM!
“Wow, this is getting kind of annoying.”
Patrick wore an expression that was half-amazement and half-irritation as he relentlessly hammered his opponent. Normally, the fight should have been over by now. He had landed several clean hits.
However, the barrier of wind surrounding Yurahis’s body was blocking Patrick’s attacks. It wasn't a physical defense like armor. Because it was a barrier made of condensed wind, he couldn't even use the Heavy Hand Technique effectively. The barrier would weaken the moment he struck it, but the spirit would immediately reinforce it again.
In short, he was incredibly persistent.
An Elven Knight, huh… Their defensive power might actually be better than a Magic Swordsman’s.
But Patrick held a firm conviction: most problems in this world could be solved by beating them into submission. If the enemy blocked an attack, he would simply strike with even greater destructive power.
“Let’s see how long you can hold out.”
“Si… Silape! Make the wind barrier thick—Gah!”
Blood sprayed from Yurahis’s mouth. His situation was far from good. Every time Patrick’s attacks struck the barrier, the spirit took the shock. The damage taken by a summoned spirit must be endured by the spirit summoner themselves.
As the shocks accumulated, his spirit power was running dry, and his life force was being consumed instead. He couldn't believe his spirit magic was about to be shattered by such a crude, repetitive assault.
“How… how can you be so barbaric…!”
“Barbaric? Bar-ba-ric?! You bastard, did you just call my profound swordsmanship barbaric? Fine, shall I show you what real barbarism looks like?”
In that instant, Patrick’s swords vanished. Or rather, his arms and swords began to move at such high speeds they became invisible to the naked eye.
Twin Dragons Eight Sword Styles.
Fourth Form.
Twin Dragons’ Chaotic Dance.
The fastest continuous attack within the Twin Dragons Eight Sword Styles. High-speed blades that were impossible to track began to lash out at Yurahis’s entire body without pause.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang-clang!
It was an attack that felt less like slicing and more like an intent to grind the opponent to dust. For the one on the receiving end, it was a literal hell of slashes. Faced with an overwhelming volume of attacks that would make anyone despair, Silape protected her summoner with a tearful face.
However, that damage was transferred directly to Yurahis, and as a result…
“Cough…!”
Yurahis collapsed, vomiting blood. The moment he hit his knees, he could no longer hold on and dismissed Silape back to the Spirit Realm. The wall of wind surrounding his body vanished.
Patrick didn't miss the opening.
CRACK!
Patrick’s kick connected squarely with the face of the kneeling Yurahis. Without even a chance to scream, Yurahis was sent flying back, crashing into the distance.
Seeing this, Patrick nodded and said, “Mhm. As expected, most problems in the world are solved by beating them up. This is the ultimate truth.”
Though, both in his past life and this one, he was the only person who treated that as a 'truth.' At any rate, it was time to wrap this up…
“Silape. Flare.”
From where Yurahis had landed, a storm and flames erupted once more.
“You still want more?”
To a bored-looking Patrick, Yurahis spoke with a distorted face.
“I will kill you. I will kill you even if it costs me everything!”
“Is it really that easy?”
While Patrick mocked him by picking his ear, Yurahis concentrated his spirit power into his sword. And then…
“Spirits! Dwell within my blade!”
He condensed the flames and storm surrounding him into his sword. The fire and wind dwelling in the blade grew even more violent, fueled by Yurahis’s rapidly depleting spirit power.
“Ethereal Element? Be careful, Lord Patrick!” Elione shouted urgently.
When Patrick looked at her, she explained quickly, “That is a technique that amplifies the spirit’s power by consuming one’s own spirit power. By sacrificing one’s lifespan, it’s possible to exert power far beyond one’s actual skill!”
At those words, Patrick replied, “So, it’s a mutual destruction attack where he pours in all his Innate True Energy? Is that it?”
“……?”
Naturally, Elione didn't understand half of what Patrick said. But Patrick acted as if it didn't matter.
“Then I’ll show him.”
Patrick took a stance and continued.
“I’ll show him an overwhelming difference in skill that even the resolve to die cannot bridge.”
Hearing this, Yurahis grit his teeth and poured even more spirit power into his sword. The storm grew more violent and wild, and the red flames intensified in power. The fire erupting from the sword turned from blue to a white flame, radiating terrifyingly high heat just by existing.
“Ugh…”
“It’s so hot.”
Even those standing far away winced at the heat. However, Patrick, who was facing it head-on, was focusing on his own sword style with a serene expression.
That sight…
Grind.
…infuriated Yurahis.
How dare he not feel fear in the face of this strike? He would make him pay the price.
Having steeled his heart, Yurahis swung his raised sword downward and screamed, “DIE!”
Yurahis had poured more than half of his life force into this attack. The resulting terrifying typhoon of fire surged forward as if to swallow Patrick… no, the entire area.