Chapter 307: Let's Change Locations (1)
Chapter 307: Let's Change Locations (1)
After deciding to challenge the Four Calamities, Patrick threw himself into his training, spurring his progress.
In truth, training fiercely now wasn't likely to make him significantly stronger in such a short period. However, simply consolidating the insights he had gained from his recent duel with the Sword Saint would be quite helpful. But…
‘Can I win?’
Even so, he lacked certainty.
The current Patrick had already surpassed the martial prowess of his past life as the Radiant Dragon Hero. Having realized the Ultimate Secret Art and reached the Profound Realm, the Patrick of today would likely survive the joint attack of the Unorthodox Faction Alliance at Nakbong Pass. But…
‘It’s unsettling not knowing the enemy’s full strength.’
Patrick didn't know the true depths of those called the Four Calamities.
His duel with the Black Tortoise had been an indirect battle in a virtual space, and his fight with the White Tiger had merely been a test. It was impossible to evaluate the full power of the Four Calamities based on those two encounters alone.
In other words, Patrick still didn't know the extent of his opponents' capabilities.
“Tsk, I’ve grown weak too.”
In the old days, he would have charged in without weighing the odds of victory. But the more a person has to carry, the more cautious they inevitably become. This held true even for Patrick Schneider.
That didn't mean he could just walk away, though.
While the exact outlines weren't clear yet, it was obvious that something massive was revolving around him. Ignore it and leave it be? Or just wait until something happened? Ignoring a problem and putting it off was the worst possible response.
‘I have to face it head-on.’
That was Patrick’s conclusion. Therefore, for now, he had no choice but to organize his realizations to increase his chances of victory, even if only by a fraction.
Just then…
“Grand Duke.”
Chandler appeared and spoke to Patrick, who was focused on his training in the private training ground.
“What is it? I believe I told you not to disturb me unless it was serious.”
“I apologize for interrupting your training. However, a guest has arrived seeking the Grand Duke.”
“Who is it?”
“Yes. Well, it is…”
Upon hearing Chandler’s answer, Patrick frowned.
“Why those guys?”
Patrick sighed and stood up. Regardless of his mood, they weren't guests he could simply ignore.
* * *
In the reception room of the Grand Ducal Castle.
There sat men with heights much shorter than average, but with torsos far wider, and thick, bushy beards. The servants had served them tea, but…
“Tsk, who serves tea when hosting dwarves?”
“It’s not like we’re long-eared beanpoles…”
“Exactly. This is a serious problem.”
When hosting dwarves, it should be beer. If not beer, then some other liquor. If even that wasn't available, a glass of cold water would be better.
In the Harbor Kingdom, which had once been on good terms with the Dwarf Kingdom, this was common knowledge. However, other countries were ignorant of such etiquette—even in a place like the Schneider Duchy, where many demi-humans lived.
Normally, dwarves had such foul tempers that they would have jumped up and stormed out after receiving such treatment. But this time, they didn't. Though they grumbled, they remained seated, their backsides firmly planted on the sofa.
Because…
“Why are you complaining? Just drink what you’re given, alright?”
The temper of the human they had come to see was far worse than theirs.
“Hahaha. It’s been a while, Double Dragon.”
“It has been a long time. Uh… what was your name again? Anyway, you were the head of the dwarf tribe, right?”
At that, Hardy, the head of the dwarf tribe, looked wounded.
“The head? That makes me sound like a bandit leader, doesn't it?”
“Head or leader, it’s the same thing, isn't it?”
“Ah…”
“Now that you mention it?”
Hardy found his friends, who were chiming in beside him, more annoying than the human in front of him. He sighed and continued.
“You remember these two, right?”
“Of course. It’s Klaus, your right hand, and Grot, your left hand, right? My memory isn't that bad…”
“…They’re swapped.”
“Ah… since when?”
“…….”
Since the beginning, you brat.
Hardy, the head of the dwarves, along with Klaus and Grot, were the guests who had come to see Patrick. These three were the most important figures leading the dwarf tribe.
Once the greetings were over, Hardy spoke bluntly.
“First, I apologize. I’m sorry we couldn't visit for so long. We had many things to handle ourselves.”
“Well, it’s fine.”
The alliance between Patrick and the dwarves had been temporary. Patrick had a reason to crush the Harbor Kingdom, and the dwarves happened to be the faction with the worst relationship with that kingdom. Since their interests aligned, they had joined forces to give the Harbor Kingdom a big, beautiful middle finger.
However, the alliance ended right there. Patrick had crippled the Harbor Kingdom and turned it into a duchy, while the dwarves finally found their freedom and were able to leave the Iron Mountains. Although it bothered him slightly that they had moved to the Yuzef Kingdom, it wasn't Patrick’s place to interfere.
The connection should have ended there, but…
“You aren't a dwarf if you don't repay a debt.”
“Hoho… now that’s a philosophy I like.”
Patrick nodded with a satisfied smile at Hardy’s words. Indeed, whether dwarf or human, one must repay a kindness. Wasn't that only natural?
Of course, Patrick knew. The dwarf tribe was currently in the process of leaving their long-time home in the Iron Mountains and settling into a new frontier. They likely had many expenses and were in a period of austerity. That was why he hadn't pressured them, but…
‘If they’re coming to repay the favor themselves, well, it would be rude to refuse. Don't you think so, Master?’
—Have some shame, you brat!
He felt as if he could hear his Master’s cry, but he ignored it completely. Then, with eyes full of expectation, Patrick spoke.
“So, how much did you bring?”
“I brought something much better than money.”
Seeing Hardy speak with his chest puffed out, Patrick felt a sense of foreboding.
“You’re not trying to dump an academy recommendation letter or some relic of a saint who died hundreds of years ago on me, are you?”
Based on his experience so far, he had never seen anything good come from someone offering something "better than money."
Hardy replied to Patrick’s skepticism.
“Why would I give you such useless junk?”
“Phew… thank goodness. Then what is it?”
“See it for yourself.”
At Hardy’s nod, the two dwarves beside him brought forward two wooden boxes larger than themselves. The two, who presented the clearly high-quality boxes to Patrick, glared at each other once before speaking.
“Just you watch, you short-stack.”
“I’m 0.2 millimeters taller than you.”
The two leaders of the dwarf tribe growled at each other as they simultaneously opened the boxes in front of Patrick.
“This is the gift we prepared.”
And the moment the boxes opened…
“…….”
Even the great Patrick couldn't help but gape.
Inside were two sets of swords, each pair clearly a masterpiece at a glance. One set consisted of twin white swords that emitted a soft, pure light, leaving not even a faint shadow on the blades. On the other side was a set of twin black swords with blades so perfectly pitch-black they seemed to swallow the light.
Both pairs looked extraordinary to Patrick’s eyes.
“Are these… for me?”
“Hmm, take your pick.”
“I get to choose?”
“That’s right.”
“…….”
“Are you crying?”
Of course I’m crying!
To think these short, bearded guys would actually… move me, the great Radiant Dragon Hero and the Double Dragon Patrick Sky Schneider himself, to tears.
At this point… let’s take a moment to understand why Patrick was so moved.
The sword Patrick was currently using was a cheap iron sword bought from a mass-production smithy in front of the academy. He had even bought it on a "buy one, get one free" deal because the quality wasn't that great. Why was Patrick using such low-grade junk?
‘Why else? It’s a habit I picked up because of my Master in my past life.’
Occasionally, the past Patrick would go to great lengths to find or forge a good sword to give to his Master. Since the superiority of a weapon could be a matter of life and death in actual combat, he had put a lot of effort into providing his Master with high-quality equipment.
But here was the problem. What was the point of giving them to him?
[Ma… Master? Where is the five-thousand-yang sword I made for you, the one with thirty percent hundred-refined steel?]
[Hahaha. You see, the drought is severe this year, and many people are suffering. So…]
[Guh… cough…]
Oh, Master… Master…
My hopelessly soft-hearted Master.
In any case, he couldn't give him anything good or expensive. Since the Master would sell everything to save the poor and suffering, not even a famed sword was safe. And since the Master used a plain iron sword, his disciples couldn't very well use expensive, high-quality ones.
In the end, the Radiant Dragon Hero Jin Su-han used a five-cent iron sword until the day he died. When others pointed it out…
[Ah, skill is what matters. What does the sword have to do with it?]
[Now look here, Radiant Dragon Hero. No matter how you look at it, the quality of a weapon for a martial artist is…]
[Oh, is that so? Then why did you, using a famed sword made of ten-thousand-year cold iron, get thrashed by me?]
[…You bastard.]
Such conversations had taken place. In short, he had acted tough as if he didn't care. But in reality…
‘What swordsman in the world hates a famed sword?’
Honestly, he had been soooooo jealous. Forget the sect leaders or elders of prestigious clans; even first-generation disciples used swords far better than his. Seeing that…
[Tsk, tsk, tsk. All style and no substance…]
Outwardly, he would click his tongue and bluster. But how much had he envied them deep down?
“Ca… can I touch them?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.”
It was rare for such pure gratitude to come from Patrick Schneider. It was proof that he was truly, sincerely happy. And Patrick’s awe intensified after he actually picked them up.
“Oooooh…”
The first one he reached for was a white sword. And the very first impression was…
‘It’s light.’
It was so light he could barely feel the weight in his hand. It felt more like holding a single reed than a sword. But…
Swish.
The moment he swung it gently, the sensation of it cutting through the air sent a shiver through his entire body.
To the marveling Patrick, the sharpness felt as if it could cut through anything in existence, combined with a lightness that defied common sense. The creator’s intent was clear.
‘It’s for fast-sword techniques.’
Using this would make his sword speed extremely fast.
Beside him, Klaus, the left hand of the dwarf tribe, spoke.
“How is it? It’s a sword made from the last of the Orichalcum remaining in our family.”
“Orichalcum? Isn't that a legendary metal from stories?”
“It’s called that because it’s so rare, but it is a real metal.”
“Ooh…”
Normally, Patrick’s next question would have been, ‘Is it expensive?’ But…
‘I can’t sell this.’
Across both his past and present lives, this was the first time he felt such an intense desire for possession. He wouldn't want to sell this even for a fortune.
As Patrick gazed at the sword with an ecstatic expression, Klaus continued.
“I observed you before, and you use a swordsmanship style centered on speed.”
“That’s right.”
“Then I thought a sword that maximizes that speed would be best. Well? Do you like it?”
“What’s there to say? It’s the best.”
At Patrick’s words, Klaus’s nose seemed ready to touch the sky with pride. But…
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. They say no one on the continent can match the Double Dragon’s speed as it is. What’s the point of getting even faster?”
The one who cut in with a click of his tongue was Grot, the right hand of the dwarf tribe. He continued with a dissatisfied look.
“The Schneider Duchy, where the Double Dragon has settled, neighbors the Great Forest. That means frequent battles with powerful monsters other than humans, does it not?”
“That’s true.”
In fact, he was scheduled to go have a showdown with the leaders of those monsters soon. To that Patrick, Grot said something very enticing.
“Then wouldn't it be better to increase your destructive power rather than adding to your already sufficient speed?”
“Destructive power?”
It was a phrase that was always tempting to hear. Certainly, if his attack power was bolstered, it would be a great help when facing the Four Calamities.
“Are you saying this sword can do that?”
“Try holding it.”
At Grot’s confident words, Patrick quietly set down the white sword and picked up a black one. And…
“Oh?”
The feeling was different. While the white sword felt like lifting a feather, this black sword boasted a heavy weight.
“It’s quite heavy.”
Patrick held them casually, one in each hand, but for an ordinary person, it was a weight they could barely lift even with both hands. It was heavier than even a two-handed sword.
“It’s made of Adamantium.”
“…That was real too?”
“Of course. It’s the hardest and densest metal in the world. Normally, it should be used as an alloy, but I used it pure, trusting in your strength.”
“…….”
Despite the heavy weight, the way it felt in his hand was excellent. If he swung this with all his might, just how much destructive power would it produce?
‘I can’t stand it.’
Unable to hold back any longer, Patrick jumped up and spoke.
“I’ll have to try them out myself to know for sure.”
With that, Patrick took the three dwarves and headed to his private training ground.