Chapter 298: Ah, Why Again? (2)
Chapter 298: Ah, Why Again? (2)
It went without saying, but the Holy Kingdom no longer had any reason to wage war against the Empire.
The Pope, finally freed from the Dark Mage’s brainwashing, issued a direct command.
[Withdraw all forces from every front immediately. Send an envoy to the Empire to propose a ceasefire.]
In the Holy Kingdom, where the Pope’s authority was absolute, the soldiers obeyed without question or hesitation the moment the order was given.
The troops pulled back from the front lines, and the war ground to a halt instantly.
Then, the Pope issued a formal public statement.
[I shall reveal the full truth behind this war. Everything occurred due to my own foolish mistakes. First...]
And so, the Pope laid bare the entire truth.
He explained how he had been brainwashed by a Dark Mage’s conspiracy, which led to the outbreak of the war. He admitted that the war had been wrong from the start, apologized deeply for the foolishness that brought about this catastrophe, and stated that he would accept any reparations the Benator Empire demanded.
He concluded with a final plea.
[Even if it is late, I hope that this war, which has caused innocent blood to be shed due to this foolish man’s blunder, will come to an end.]
"Phew... Well, at least he owned up to everything cleanly."
Patrick nodded as he read the proclamation issued by the Pope. He had been worried that the old man might make things difficult by adding lies or sophistry, so this was a relief.
"Thanks to that, the Pope gramps gets to keep his jaw intact."
"Hahaha. You and your jokes..."
Antorius, who was listening nearby, let out a laugh. It was proof that he still didn't quite realize what kind of person Patrick really was.
In any case, the Holy Kingdom—the initial aggressor—had retreated, apologized, and even expressed a willingness to pay reparations if necessary. For all intents and purposes, the war should have been over.
But...
"No, why is the Empire pulling this shit now? Do they have a Dark Mage over there too?"
At Patrick’s question, the gaunt-faced Pope spoke.
"I cannot make heads or tails of it either. But at this rate, the war will not end. No, it will likely get even worse."
"...This is driving me crazy."
Patrick scratched his head vigorously. He had thought that once the Dark Mage was ousted and the Pope came to his senses, the war would naturally stop. What kind of absurd situation was this?
Patrick looked at the Pope and asked, "What are you going to do?"
"Regardless of the reason, if they continue the war, we cannot simply sit back and take it."
The Holy Kingdom would be forced to mobilize its full strength to resist. If that happened, countless more lives would soak the earth with their blood.
"So you're saying that even after kicking out the Dark Mages, nothing has changed."
"I have no excuses."
"Sigh... This is maddening."
Patrick scratched his head as he thought. To be fair, the Pope had done his best. He had admitted his faults and offered reparations. He hadn't expected the Empire to take this stance.
Moreover, even the Sword Saint, who had previously been engaged in passive defense at the front, was now taking an aggressive lead.
'Wait, the Sword Saint?'
Thinking about it, it was strange. He had heard that the old man wasn't particularly keen on the war, so why had he suddenly stepped up to lead the vanguard?
"I guess... I'll have to go see him myself."
Ultimately, Patrick hauled his heavy backside off the seat and stood up.
*
The main camp of the Imperial Army.
The Benator Imperial Army, which had maintained a defensive line until now, had preserved almost its entire strength. After setting aside a minimum force for defense, they had organized an elite unit numbering a staggering 200,000.
The number 200,000 was daunting enough on its own, but the quality of the troops was overwhelming. There were over fifty knight orders included in this army. With at least a hundred knights per order, that alone accounted for 5,000 knights.
Furthermore, the Empire had over a hundred mages in its service, whose skill levels ranged from the 4th to 6th floors if compared to the mages of the Tower of Truth.
Most terrifyingly, there were over thirty 7-star knights who had reached the Supreme Realm. It was a truly formidable force that demonstrated exactly why the Empire was called an Empire.
And above all else...
The figure leading this army from the very front.
Duke Carlos Dante Reinardo, the Sword Saint.
The weight of this single name carried an overwhelming presence that surpassed all the military might listed before it.
The strongest knight on the continent.
The idol of every swordsman.
His name was so illustrious that even those on his own side found it difficult to approach him.
Perhaps that was why.
"I wonder what he's thinking..."
"How should I know?"
Even the knights on his side could only sigh as they watched the Sword Saint. Currently, the Sword Saint was sitting alone with his eyes closed as if in meditation, while the others stood guard around him.
Those guarding him were members of the Glory Knight Order. The Glory Knight Order was a temporary unit formed specifically for this battle, with the Sword Saint himself serving as the Knight Captain. The requirement for joining was to be a 7-star knight.
In other words, it was a group where over thirty knights who had pioneered the Supreme Realm were concentrated. It was a knight order of nonsensical power.
Though they had become members of a legendary knight order that would likely go down in continental history, their joy didn't last long. This was because the Sword Saint, who led them directly, wasn't doing anything.
After leading the army south and capturing a single camp of the Holy Kingdom, he was simply passing the time. Even when they asked the strategists, they were told there was no specific plan. The Sword Saint had set up camp at the border of the Holy Kingdom and remained in silent stillness.
"I'd rather be fighting."
"Tell me about it..."
"Hey, youngest. Have you heard anything?"
The man called 'youngest' was a young man with blond hair and pale green eyes. Garcia Reinardo, the Empire's youngest 7-star swordsman and the grandson of the Sword Saint. He had also joined this knight order by virtue of reaching the 7-star realm. However...
"I haven't heard anything either."
"A top-secret plan that he won't even reveal to you, his successor?"
"Grandfather isn't the type to leak operational details just because I'm his grandson. But..."
"But what?"
"Speak up. Tell us if you have any inkling."
At his seniors' urging, Garcia thought for a moment before speaking.
"Usually, when Grandfather acts unexpectedly, it's often related to that man."
"That man?"
"The Double Dragon."
"Ahhh... that greenhorn?"
"The Sword Saint is concerned about a brat like him?"
"Nah, that can't be it. Who would care about a puffed-up brat like that?"
They were all knights of the Empire. They were knights of the strongest nation on the continent who had reached the Supreme Realm through fierce competition. Naturally, their pride was no small thing.
Of course, they couldn't deny that Patrick had achieved great merits and fame. However, from the perspective of the Imperial knights, they believed they could have easily achieved the same if they had been in his position. That was the pride of those who had reached the pinnacle of the continent's strongest nation.
Garcia looked at his seniors with a bitter smile and thought to himself.
'I knew they wouldn't believe it.'
Yes, he had been like this in the past too. Before being utterly crushed in the finals of the Arcana, he had the pride of believing he was the best. He thought that as the successor to the Sword Saint... as a knight of the Empire, one should have at least that much self-esteem.
It was the Double Dragon who had made him realize that it wasn't pride, but arrogance.
'In that sense, I wouldn't mind seeing him one more time.'
Just as Garcia was thinking that...
BOOM!
"Huh? What was that?"
"An ambush?"
Along with a massive explosion, a significant surge of power was felt from one side. The moment all members of the Glory Knight Order turned their sharp gazes in that direction...
"It seems he's arrived."
The Sword Saint, who had been meditating, opened his eyes.
*
A few moments ago.
A man approached the front of the Imperial Army's camp. Seeing the identity of the man—who had two swords strapped to his back and was occasionally taking swigs from a liquor bottle in his hand—the Imperial soldiers naturally did their duty.
"Halt!"
As they spoke threateningly while leveling their spears, the approaching intruder stopped.
"Yo, you guys are working hard."
"Who are you? State your identity, name, and purpose for approaching."
"Patrick Schneider of the Schneider Duchy. My purpose is to have a little chat with the Sword Saint."
"......"
At the words of the mysterious intruder, Patrick, the soldiers stood dazed for a moment. So, a drunkard comes wandering over here alone, claims to be the Double Dragon, and says he came all this way by himself to see the Sword Saint?
Well, based on the information gathered, there was a very logical and reasonable conclusion to be drawn.
"Piss off, you lunatic!"
Yes. To anyone, saying that was the normal reaction. That was the sane response. However...
"What? A... lu... natic?"
Patrick’s energy began to rise slowly. Then...
"Hey, Imperial Soldier A."
"This crazy bastard, I've been patient enough—"
Patrick gulped down the rest of the liquor in the bottle and said, "Just so you know. Calling me a lunatic to my face is the eighteenth thing I hate most in this world."
"Why do you have so many things you hate? You crazy beggar-looking delusional son of a bi—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a flash of light erupted.
BOOM!
That was the last thing he remembered.
*
"Enemy attack! It's an enemy attack!"
"All units, emergency stations!"
Should they be called elite troops after all? The Imperial Army's response in surrounding Patrick was swift and precise. In no time at all, soldiers formed a perimeter with their weapons leveled, and knights began to join from the rear.
And in the middle of that encirclement, Patrick was...
"Ooh, the atmosphere is nice."
...doing exactly that.
He was just doing that.
He was lounging sideways on the ground, pulling out a new bottle of liquor and taking swigs while simply watching the Imperial troops surrounding him. Truly, a madman is different in every way.
An Imperial knight approached Patrick and spoke.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Me? I'm Patrick Schneideeeer."
"......"
"Nice to meet yaaa."
No. No, it couldn't be. There was no way the Double Dragon, whose fame echoed across the entire continent, could be such a total thug. No, more importantly...
'It doesn't matter who he is.'
The knight gritted his teeth and leveled his weapon at Patrick.
"I am taking you into custody immediately. If you do not cooperate, I will use force."
"Oh, a knight who's steadfast in doing his job."
"Drop your weapons and put both hands behind your head slowly."
"What if I don't want to?"
"Then I'll just have to subdue you by force!"
The knight kicked off the ground and lunged forward.
'Oh, he's pretty good.'
He seemed to be a knight of about the 5-star realm, and the precision of his momentum as he closed the distance was clean. However, Patrick didn't even blink as the opponent entered his striking range. No, he didn't even draw his weapon. He simply reached into his shirt as the opponent was about to thrust his spear and held something out. Then...
"Ugh..."
The knight, who was about to thrust his spear sharply at Patrick, faltered. What he saw was...
"The... the Sword Saint's token? Why do you have that?"
"Because I received it."
Patrick spoke calmly.
"That's impossible."
"Hey, I'm telling you the truth. A while back at the Arcana, there was this rude, arrogant, and self-centered grandson of the Sword Saint who thought he was the only one who mattered... Uh, what was his name? Hans? Mark?"
"It is Sir Garcia Reinardo!"
At the opponent's roar, Patrick slapped his fist into his palm and said, "Ah, right, him. That was his name."
"......"
"Anyway, I personally taught that brat some manners. At that time, the Sword Saint gramps was so moved he shed tears of gratitude. He held my hands tight and said he didn't know how to repay this debt, and then he gave me this plaque of appreciation—"
"I never did anything of the sort, Double Dragon!"
"Oh, you're here."
The ones who appeared, cutting off Patrick's words, were the Sword Saint and the knights of the Glory Knight Order following him.
The Sword Saint looked at Patrick, let out a sigh, and said, "I've been listening, and you're just fabricating memories now."
"Really? I thought I was just telling it like it is."
"......"
The Sword Saint let out a deep sigh and asked, "What brings you here?"
"Why do you think I'm here?"
At Patrick’s blunt reply, the Sword Saint paused for a moment before speaking.
"Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Booze!"
It was a single word that carried a firm will akin to a religious conviction.
"...Come inside."
The Sword Saint shook his head and led Patrick into the camp.