Chapter 304: I Can't End It Like This (2)
Chapter 304: I Can't End It Like This (2)
The Profound Realm was the Profound Realm, but…
For now, he had to do what needed to be done.
Patrick looked down at the kneeling Sword Saint and spoke.
"Well? The match is over, isn't it?"
"Cough… Perhaps so…"
"Then, as promised…"
"But I am still alive."
"……."
"Urgh… If you wish for me to keep my word, then take my life. Until then… cough…"
Patrick scratched his head at the Sword Saint’s refusal to admit defeat until he was dead.
"Man, the stubbornness of these old-timers…"
In truth, Patrick’s usual way of handling this was simple.
[You won't surrender? Not surrendering even after losing is the thirty-seventh thing I hate most in the world!]
Then he would start beating them until the Sword Saint complained, "Why do you hate so many things?" and finally gave up.
But in this case…
It’s one of those rare situations where a beating won't solve anything.
Whether the Sword Saint’s will would break under violence was a challenge Patrick was tempted to take, but if he beat the Sword Saint like a dog on a midsummer day, the Imperial Army over there would undoubtedly lose their minds.
Regardless of the duel's rules, they would never stand by and watch their idol be desecrated.
That meant he had to persuade the Sword Saint with words…
"My Master is good at this kind of thing, not me…"
"What are you doing? Why do you not continue?"
A sigh escaped Patrick as he watched the Sword Saint aim a broken blade at him, flickering with an aura so faint it looked ready to vanish at any moment.
"Hey, look here, old man."
"……."
"Isn't it a bit pathetic to keep insisting like this?"
"……."
"A man of your social standing should stop making such a scene…"
Swish!
At that moment, a streak of light flew toward Patrick.
The Sword Saint had swung his broken sword, aiming for Patrick’s neck in a single strike.
Naturally, Patrick shifted slightly and dodged it. But…
"Oh, seriously… stop being so stubborn."
"I am not yet—"
"Your daughter wouldn't like this."
"…!"
The Sword Saint’s blade stopped at Patrick’s words. His eyes drifted toward his grandson, who had fallen nearby.
The only person here who could have revealed that truth was Garcia.
Feeling the Sword Saint’s gaze, Garcia gave a small, affirming nod.
"To carelessly reveal a family secret…"
The Sword Saint let out a heavy sigh.
* * *
Caroline Reinardo.
Despite being of the blood of House Reinardo, she was a girl who was never permitted to use the Reinardo name.
It was because she was illegitimate.
In truth, it was rare for other nobles to completely erase the existence of an illegitimate child. Usually, they were recognized as part of the clan and cared for to some extent, even if they weren't treated like the direct line.
But she was different.
Her very existence was kept a top secret.
This was because her father was a knight whose fame resonated across the entire continent, far beyond the Empire.
The idol of all who held a sword.
Duke Carlos Dante Reinardo, the Sword Saint.
Publicly, the Sword Saint was evaluated as a noble figure—ascetic, devoid of worldly greed, and devoted solely to the sword.
In reality, that was about eighty percent true.
However, when the Sword Saint was over fifty years old, even he had his heart stolen.
The woman was a songstress from a wandering gypsy troupe.
She was a blind singer, and the moment the Sword Saint saw her on stage, he fell in love at first sight.
It was a feeling he had never experienced with the wife he had married through a political alliance.
And so, the Sword Saint loved her.
Even the difference in status could not stop him, and he intended to formally take her as his second wife.
But it was impossible.
The clan, the vassals, and even the Emperor—who had heard the news—opposed it vehemently.
The great and lofty Sword Saint taking a lowly gypsy woman as a second wife?
A blind woman, at that?
It was utterly unacceptable.
Inevitably, she had to remain the Sword Saint’s hidden woman. Yet, he loved and cherished her sincerely.
And from their union, a child was born.
That was Caroline Reinardo.
A few years after giving birth to Caroline, her mother passed away.
Her already frail body had worsened after childbirth.
The Sword Saint mobilized every means at his disposal, but he could not save her.
Ultimately, after burying her, the Sword Saint looked after and supported his hidden daughter with all his heart and soul.
The daughter of the woman he loved, yet a daughter he could never reveal to the world.
Despite that, she grew up without a hint of resentment, a daughter for whom he was deeply grateful.
He would have spared nothing for her.
In fact, the Sword Saint had once traveled the continent alone with his daughter.
With the sole desire to show her the wide, free world, a man of his stature had left his house vacant for several years.
That was how much he loved her.
The tragedy occurred after the Sword Saint returned to the Empire with his daughter.
As a Duke of the Empire and as the Sword Saint, he had many duties to attend to.
In particular, this was the time when his grandson, Garcia, was beginning to show his talent.
Unlike his sons, who were lost causes, he was determined to make his talented grandson his successor, which required a great deal of work.
Naturally, he grew distant from his daughter for a time.
And the moment he was away, a dangerous hand tempted her.
A few months later.
The Sword Saint received a report.
A witch had appeared on the outskirts of the capital, kidnapping people and sacrificing them to demons.
Judging it to be the work of a dark mage, the Sword Saint set out immediately.
He brought his knights with him.
Though he was strong enough to handle it alone, he had the knights form a perimeter just in case before he charged in.
And what he saw there was…
[Caroline? You… how could you?]
The one carving out people’s hearts and offering them on an altar was his own beloved daughter.
[Father? Please be happy. I can be strong now, too. Then I can help you.]
It felt as if the sky were collapsing.
The dark energy oozing thickly from his daughter’s body drove the Sword Saint to despair.
Why? For what reason? How?
Questions followed one after another, but he could not deny reality.
His daughter had done something that must never be done.
And the duty of Duke Carlos Dante Reinardo, the Sword Saint of the Empire, was all too clear.
[O Yupinel… Why… why must you be so cruel?]
That day, for the first time in his life, the Sword Saint shed tears as he cut someone down.
For the first time, he resented God and cursed fate.
And as he buried his daughter’s cold corpse, he made a vow.
[As long as I live, I shall never tolerate the existence of dark mages. All those associated with them shall not escape my blade.]
It was the vow of a father who had lost his beloved daughter.
And to this day, the Sword Saint had never once broken that vow.
He would slay every dark mage he could reach.
He would slay everyone involved.
He would slay everyone who stood in his way.
Even if it meant the sacrifice of innocents, he would not hesitate to punish the greater evil.
"…That is… what I swore."
"……."
Patrick scratched his head.
Honestly, he didn't want to stop the man.
In fact, he felt like saying, "Oh, really? That makes sense. They're bad guys anyway, so who cares? Go ahead."
Except for one thing.
"You shouldn't seek revenge at the cost of ignoring the sacrifice of innocent people… you stubborn old fossil."
If he sent the Sword Saint to the Holy Kingdom now, an immense amount of blood would be spilled under the pretext of eradicating dark mages.
He was certain of it.
The Sword Saint gritted his teeth at Patrick.
"It is not innocent sacrifice! It is a necessary sacrifice!"
"Necessary?"
"My daughter, who died by the trickery of those filthy dark mages, would surely understand me. I am doing this for her—"
"Wait, wait… I’ve been listening, and you’re talking absolute bullshit."
"What?"
"What about your daughter?"
"……."
"Don't tell me, old man. Are you having some pathetic delusion that killing every dark mage on the continent will comfort the soul of your daughter who died unfairly?"
"What is so strange about that?!"
"Everything about it is strange, you hopeless, stubborn old geezer!"
Patrick shouted back at the yelling Sword Saint.
Then, with a look of genuine anger, he spoke.
"If you want revenge, do it of your own will! Don't be a coward and use a dead person as an excuse! Why the hell are you dragging your dead daughter into this?!"
"You insolent brat!"
The Sword Saint was truly enraged.
But Patrick was also genuinely angry now.
The Sword Saint might not have known it, but he had just stepped on Patrick’s sore spot.
"You bastard! Did your daughter ever say a single word asking you for revenge? Huh? Did she?"
"Do not speak such nonsense!"
"When you die, it’s over. It’s just over. What the dead want from the living isn't revenge. It’s just for them to… beyond their sacrifice…"
Patrick continued, his voice strained.
"To live in peace."
"……."
"That is what the dead want."
The Sword Saint fell silent.
He felt a sincerity in Patrick’s words that he had never felt before.
He speaks… as if he has actually died before.
It was an absurd thought, but Patrick’s strained words were that sincere.
They were filled with a truthfulness that was hard to believe coming from the mouth of the flippant and reckless Patrick.
They were desperate.
He couldn't understand it. Why was that man from the Double Dragon shouting with such blatant emotion?
* * *
Since being reborn.
He often thought about it.
After his death, was everyone okay?
They would probably win the war.
Since he had taken all the elite masters of the Unorthodox Faction with him in a final act of mutual destruction, they would likely win.
But… were they really okay?
his beloved wife.
His friends, with whom he shared so many good memories.
His weak but endearing disciples and juniors.
And his Master…
The Master who was his parent, teacher, and guide, the one who saved his life.
Were they really okay?
What if…
Just what if…
They were so enraged by his death that they did something reckless in the name of revenge?
Just thinking about it made him so anxious he couldn't sleep.
They might.
It was entirely possible.
That was what worried him so much.
Please… please… please don't do that, he wanted to say.
If only he could send his voice across worlds to his precious people, he wanted to tell them.
Don't do anything reckless like revenge, just eat well and live comfortably…
If he could just deliver that one message…
If someone told him to crawl on the ground and bark like a dog in exchange for that, he wouldn't hesitate for a second.
That was how deeply the worry for those left behind remained in Patrick’s heart.
The Sword Saint closed his eyes.
And he thought.
He remembered his daughter’s smile, still vivid in his memory, and everything she had said.
She was a kind child, so gentle that she had even stopped the Sword Saint when he tried to cut down a pickpocket who had targeted his wallet during their travels.
She was a child who had grown up bright and untainted, despite being an illegitimate child who couldn't even use the family name.
Would such a child truly wish for this?
To occupy the Holy Kingdom, search every corner for those involved, and execute countless people just to eradicate dark mages?
Probably not.
There is no way.
At that moment, the strength left the Sword Saint’s hand, and his broken sword fell to the ground.
The justification for his revenge had vanished.
The Sword Saint let out a small sigh and spoke.
"I have lost."
It was the sentence that established the ceasefire between the Holy Kingdom and the Empire.
And at the same time, it decided who the strongest swordsman on the continent was.
* * *
The Imperial Army of 200,000 moved south.
Not for war.
It was to sign the ceasefire agreement with the Holy Kingdom.
Even if they wanted to end the war, a formal conclusion was necessary.
So, the Sword Saint led the Imperial Army into Promise, the capital of the Holy Kingdom.
The fact that 200,000 Imperial troops had advanced all the way to the capital of the Holy Kingdom had to be recorded as a military achievement.
Patrick quietly complied with the Saint's reasoning that such a gesture was necessary for the Emperor to at least save face.
And now…
"These are our requirements."
"I shall accept them."
The Pope, acknowledging that the responsibility for the war lay with him, accepted all the conditions presented by the Sword Saint without any negotiation.
Soon, the ceasefire agreement was signed, and the Pope declared the end of the war before everyone.
"Phew… It’s finally over."
"This damn war is finally over."
"My son will be able to come home safely now."
The citizens gathered in the Great Plaza of Promise all breathed sighs of relief at the fact that the war was over.
And the Imperial soldiers also breathed sighs of relief, knowing they could finally return to their families waiting at home.
Watching the scene, the Sword Saint thought to himself.
I have done the right thing.
The smiles of those who were genuinely happy and relieved at the end of the war were a sight he would never have seen if he had insisted on war until the end.
And the reason he was able to make this right choice was thanks to the man who had now become known as the strongest on the continent.
"It is a pity the Double Dragon is not here."
At the Sword Saint’s words, the Pope also nodded and said, "Indeed. If it weren't for him, this war would have lasted much longer. And many more people would have died."
The gratitude the Pope felt toward Patrick was even greater than the Sword Saint’s.
Patrick had saved him from being brainwashed by a dark mage and had gone to the Imperial Army alone to negotiate and stop the war.
Since the founding of the Saint Louis Holy Church State.
This was likely the first time they had owed such a great debt to a single individual.
Naturally, the Pope wanted to invite him to this historic scene, be with him, and offer him special commendation. But…
"Since he said it was too much trouble, there was no way to bring him."
"Heh, he is the strongest on the continent, after all."
"Hahaha."
The Sword Saint and the Pope laughed.
The Pope continued.
"Still, he will attend the banquet tonight."
"Mm, I suppose so."
"At that time, I intend to offer a blessing in my name and proclaim him a Saint."
"You mean to officially proclaim it?"
"Of course. If he is not a Saint, then who could possibly be called one?"
The Sword Saint looked quite surprised.
For the Holy Kingdom to recognize someone as a Saint was a tremendous honor.
No, it was more than just honor; it granted immense rights.
Being a Saint meant that the Holy Kingdom would recognize all of his status and actions.
To put it in perspective…
Back when Patrick killed Count Spike.
Of course, he had killed him because he deserved it.
If such a tyrannical man were left alive, he certainly wouldn't have reflected; instead, he would have taken his anger out on innocent people.
But strictly speaking, that was a dangerous act that could cause tension between nations.
He had split a noble of another country—and a 7-Star Knight, a vital national asset—in half.
But if a Saint did that, the story changed.
The Holy Kingdom would guarantee the Saint’s actions and defend him.
For example…
[Count Calvin Spike exploited the innocent and defiled the honor of a knight, so he deserved to die.]
In other words, the Holy Kingdom would provide justification for the Saint’s actions in almost any situation.
Considering that the nature of religion worked beyond borders, the status of a Saint could even surpass that of a King.
That was why the Holy Kingdom did not easily appoint Saints.
The last person to receive the title of Saint lived 300 years ago.
The Holy Kingdom is trying to bring the Double Dragon completely to their side.
Of course, he was a person who deserved it and, above all, was worth it.
And the Pope wasn't the only one who had made such a judgment.
"Tonight, the 3rd Princess of our Empire will also attend the banquet."
"The Princess? Why is she here…?"
"While our army was moving south, she set out accordingly. She joined us a few days ago and is now inside Promise."
"……."
The Pope had heard of the Empire’s 3rd Princess.
She was said to be the most beautiful and wise woman in the Empire, so cherished by the Emperor that he was turning away the flood of marriage proposals for her.
Such a Princess had come here to join them.
So suddenly?
It was all too obvious what they were aiming for.
"Hahaha. As far as I know, the Saint is already with three beautiful wives…"
"There was an imperial decree from His Majesty that even being a concubine would be fine."
"He already has women he loves, so how could a concubine… wait, are you saying…?"
"……."
"The 3rd Princess is going to be a concubine? The fourth one?"
"…It is His Majesty’s imperial command."
"Ha… Hahaha."
The Pope was flabbergasted.
Had there ever been a precedent for an Imperial Princess becoming a concubine?
No matter how much he searched his memory, there was no such precedent.
The moment one married a Princess, let alone a concubine, even glancing at another woman was considered an insult to the Imperial Family…
"Did the Emperor truly say that?"
"Yes. It seems he decided immediately after hearing of my defeat."
"Mmm…"
I see. Then it made sense.
The Sword Saint’s defeat.
How shocked the Pope had been when he heard that news!
The Sword Saint was a monster who could win even if the Paladins of the Holy Kingdom attacked him together.
To hear that someone had actually won a one-on-one duel against such a man was a shock in itself.
But the shock the Emperor felt must have been even greater.
Knowing that the Sword Saint was no longer the strongest on the continent, it wasn't strange for the Emperor to feel anxious.
And he had immediately used the best means at his disposal to pull Patrick in.
Hahaha. Still, this is quite something.
The fact that the Empire was willing to give a Princess as a concubine showed how serious the Emperor was about recruiting Patrick.
Should we also prepare something more than the title of Saint?
Just as the Pope was thinking that…
"Your Holiness! It’s a disaster!"
An apprentice priest came running in, his face pale.
"What is it that makes you cause such a commotion?"
The Pope frowned at the priest for causing a disturbance in such an important place.
A clergyman serving God should always be calm; how could he be so reckless?
Or so he thought. But…
"The Double Dragon has left."
After hearing what the priest said, the Pope froze.
And the Sword Saint, who was beside him, said hurriedly, "Wa… wait, what? What did you say?"
"The Double Dragon has left. He took the entire delegation from the Schneider Duchy and departed."
"W-what about the banquet tonight?"
"Yes. Did you inform him that there was a banquet? Did he know before he left?"
Under the simultaneous pressure of the Pope and the Sword Saint, the two highest authorities, the apprentice priest said with a pale face, "I did. I definitely did. But…"
"But?"
"But what? Speak quickly!"
The apprentice priest shrank back, looking extremely apologetic even though they weren't his words.
"He said… it was too much trouble…"
Immediately after hearing those words, the Pope and the Sword Saint looked dejected.
They had clearly informed him of the banquet tonight.
And they had even said they would bestow a great reward if he attended. But…
"Ha… haha…"
"It seems it was meaningless."
They could only laugh.
The immense authority of a Saint.
The beautiful Princess of the Empire.
As if they were merely cumbersome to him, Patrick had simply walked away.
As if he had done his job by uncovering the dark mages' plot, stopping the war, and saving millions of people.
"I feel as though I have had an audience with a true Saint."
The Pope’s words represented the feelings of both men.
* * *
"Hey, is it really okay for you to just leave like this?"
Matthew, who was riding alongside Patrick, asked. Patrick replied as he chewed on some jerky.
“Of course. I’ve done everything I needed to do, so why stick around?”
“I mean, shouldn't you have at least stayed for tonight's banquet? Didn't the Holy Kingdom say they were going to give you something?”
As far as Matthew knew, Patrick Schneider was never one to turn down a freebie. But…
“Hey, you try dealing with those people. They hand over some weird scrap of wood and call it a ‘sacred treasure.’ Then they offer me the ‘privilege’ of donating ten percent of my income to them? Ugh… If I ever set foot in this place again, I’m a dog. A dog.”
The gifts offered by the Holy Kingdom were nowhere near Patrick’s taste. He didn't care for holy relics, nor did he care for honor.
“Besides, I’ve already grabbed everything worth taking.”
Patrick glanced back at the line of more than ten freight carts lumbering heavily behind them. They were filled with “gifts” he had squeezed out of the Holy Kingdom’s Holy Knights and monks, as well as the Imperial knights, under various pretexts.
Patrick wore a look of pure satisfaction as he surveyed the haul.
“Alright, let’s head home.”
There would be plenty of work waiting for him once they got back.