Chapter 308: Let’s Change Locations (2)
Chapter 308: Let’s Change Locations (2)
“Fuuuu….”
Taking his place in the training grounds, Patrick lightly regulated his breathing.
First up were the White Swords.
Calming his racing heart, he began to execute the sword forms with fluid motions.
Ssssh.
The blades cut through the air.
Slowly at first, then gradually faster and faster….
The White Swords, glowing faintly in Patrick’s hands, began to trace lines through the empty air. And soon…
“Mm….”
“Ooh….”
The swords became invisible.
Even the sound of them slicing the air vanished.
All that could be seen were the trajectories traced by a dazzling white light.
Even those were merely the lingering traces left in the air after the blades had already passed.
Impressive. It’s almost enchanting.
As he performed the forms, Patrick couldn’t contain his excitement at a sword speed that was twice as fast as usual.
What would happen if he unleashed his Fast Sword styles at full power in this state?
Unable to suppress his curiosity, Patrick immediately put it to the test.
Kicking off the ground and leaping into the air, he instantly unleashed a technique.
Twin Dragons Eight Sword Styles.
Fourth Form.
Twin Dragons’ Chaotic Dance.
Among the Twin Dragons Eight Sword Styles, this was the ultra-high-speed continuous attack with the fastest striking rate.
Even normally, it was a technique that unleashed countless slashes until the eyes grew dizzy, but now….
Whirrrrrrr!
It was invisible.
Nothing could be seen.
Light simply sprayed out in all directions with Patrick at the center.
The air was filled with countless particles of light, like a constellation scattered across the sky.
“Oh… Ooh….”
“Ho-ho….”
The dwarves watching the scene from the ground stood with their mouths agape.
As Patrick landed back on the ground, Klaus spoke up excitedly.
“Well? How is it? Do you like them?”
“Is there even a need to ask?”
It was the best. A galaxy of light created by Patrick’s sword forms still lingered in the sky.
It was a beautiful and majestic sight. However….
Patrick picked up the other swords.
The heavy Black Swords.
Holding the pair, Patrick gave them a light experimental swing.
Whooooosh!
Along with a sharp boom of displaced air, the beards of the dwarves standing far away fluttered in the wind.
The destructive power was so terrifying that it generated a sword wind without him even intending it.
In that case, the technique suited for this would be….
“Shall I give it a try?”
Patrick held the Black Swords crossed behind his back.
Then, he unleashed a sword form toward the cluster of stars he had created in the sky.
Twin Dragons Eight Sword Styles.
Second Style.
Great Dragon Cross Sword.
The technique most focused on raw power within the Twin Dragons Eight Sword Styles.
The moment he unleashed the cross-shaped sword qi with all his might….
Hm?
Patrick was surprised.
It felt as if the weight of the swords vanished the moment he swung.
Despite being longsword-sized, the Black Swords were significantly heavier than most two-handed swords, yet all that weight disappeared the moment he initiated the form.
It meant the swords were perfectly balanced.
When a swordsman of Patrick’s caliber used such famed swords….
BOOOOOOOM!
A massive cross-shaped slash tore through the galaxy of stars and split the clouds in the sky far beyond.
“Uh…?”
“What was that?”
“Hieeeek… Goddess Yupinel!”
The citizens of the Duchy watching the scene from afar mistook it for a natural disaster—the sky itself being rent asunder—and fell to their knees in prayer.
No one could have imagined that this was created by a single swordsman.
Then again, even Patrick himself stood there with a dazed expression, so what more could be said?
“This much power with only 5-Star internal energy….”
This level of destructive force was no different from when Patrick exerted himself at full strength.
He couldn’t even imagine what the result would be if he unleashed it directly at a target.
“Hahaha! Well? Aren’t they magnificent?”
“It’s electrifying.”
Patrick didn’t hide his joy as he answered Grot’s question.
This feeling of wielding such immense power at will.
He felt a thrill and a pleasure that was almost addictive.
“I’m glad you’re satisfied.”
As Grot said this, he turned to Patrick.
“Now then, tell us. Obviously, the swords I made are far superior.”
Grot’s words were filled with pride and conviction.
However, there was someone who couldn’t accept that.
“Has this rolling ale barrel of an old man finally gone senile? The first in the history of the dwarf race?”
“What?”
“Obviously, the ones I made are the best. Who would use such absurdly heavy swords?”
“What did you say? You want to di—Gah!”
“First Strike Wins!”
“Dieeeee!”
Dwarves don’t fight with words.
The two masters immediately grabbed each other by the collars and began a brawl.
Watching the two men, who held the highest positions in the dwarf race, rolling around in a fistfight, Hardy shook his head.
“I wonder when they’ll ever grow up.”
Then he spoke to Patrick.
“You decide, cleanly. Otherwise, those old geezers will be at it all day.”
“I take it they’ve been like this for a while?”
“Ever since they finished making the swords.”
“Hmm…. I see.”
Patrick pondered.
Both pairs of swords were magnificent.
It was difficult to compare them because their properties were so fundamentally different.
In that case, wasn’t there only one answer to resolve the problem peacefully?
“I have decided.”
As Patrick spoke, the two men who had been tangling and pulling at each other’s beards came to a halt.
Patrick spoke with a solemn air.
“All four of these swords are the best. It is impossible for me to determine which is superior. Therefore….”
Patrick gave a wide grin.
“I’ll just use them all.”
And here people thought he was actually being nice for once.
“…….”
“……."
“…….”
The three dwarves’ mouths fell open simultaneously.
Patrick smiled brightly as he tucked both the White and Black Swords behind his back. There had never been a thief quite like this one.
“Now, hold on a moment, Double Dragon.”
“Yes?”
“Of course, those swords were made to be given to you.”
“I’ll use them well.”
“But still. You can’t just take both pairs, can you? The material costs alone for those swords are equivalent to a kingdom’s national budget. No, even if you had the money, they are items you couldn’t find again.”
Orichalcum and Adamantium.
To dwarves, these two metals were treasures beyond treasures.
Other metals were merely difficult to find; once a vein was located, they could be mined.
However, these two metals were special gifts from the gods to the mortal realm and were not something that could be mined in the traditional sense.
Only tiny amounts had been passed down secretly over time.
When it was first decided to give Patrick swords made from these metals as a gift, Hardy had faced the fiercest opposition since taking office as the head of the race.
Providing weapons made from such metals was an unprecedented condition. But….
[The Double Dragon is the savior of our race. If we cannot provide the best reward for him, it would be a disgrace to all dwarves!]
By pushing forward with such a firm stance, he had barely managed to get it passed.
And even after that, he had suffered because these two senile old geezers kept fighting and taking the project in different directions.
In the end, they decided to finish both pairs, show them to Patrick, and let him choose one.
The plan was to carefully store the other pair away again. It was only natural.
They were racial treasures.
The materials alone were of immense value, and the finished products were even more incredible.
It was only right that they be designated as racial treasures to be passed down through generations as a testament to their craftsmanship.
The problem was….
“Listen, Double Dra—”
“Don’t. Tell. Me.”
“…….”
“You aren’t thinking of taking back something you already gave me, are you?”
“…….”
“I hope not. For the record, taking back something once it’s been given is the tenth thing I hate most in this world.”
“Why do you have so many things you hate?”
“That’s just how sensitive I—Ack! Get your hand off!”
Patrick radiated genuine killing intent toward Klaus, who was stealthily reaching for a White Sword.
“U-uh… bububu….”
Klaus hurriedly backed away, and Patrick snapped.
“Where do you think you’re reaching for someone else’s property? Hmm?”
Suddenly, they were his.
Hardy flinched at Patrick’s intensity, but as the head of the race, he had to say what needed to be said.
“Just pick one pair.”
“Where’s the fairness in that? You didn’t say that at first.”
“No, logically speaking….”
“I don’t care. I’m not giving them back. Ptooey, ptooey. Mine! End of story!”
“…….”
This was the strongest man on the continent who had defeated the Sword Saint?
“Argh, just take one! Just one!”
Hardy finally lost his temper and shouted.
Dwarves were a race with quite a temper themselves, so they weren’t about to back down easily. However….
“Ho-oh, so you want to do this the hard way?”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“You’re going to regret this.”
His opponent was Patrick Schneider.
A short while later.
“GIIIIIIIIIVE THEEEEEEEM BAAAAAAAACK!”
A faint, distant cry echoed throughout the Grand Ducal Castle.
A servant working in the castle stables jumped in surprise.
“What was that? What’s going on?”
Another servant nearby replied nonchalantly.
“Ignore it, rookie.”
“Huh? No, but what was that…?”
“That voice… it’s the sound that often echoes when the Young Lord is shaking someone down for everything they’ve got.”
“…….”
What did I just hear?
The servant, who hadn’t been at the castle long, looked bewildered.
But the seniors spoke with perfect composure.
“Don’t worry. Whoever is being shaken down, it’ll end up benefiting our country in the long run.”
“Right?”
“We definitely won’t be the ones losing out.”
“He really is quite reliable.”
“Hahaha, my thoughts exactly.”
As the saying goes, the water downstream is only as clear as the water upstream. In that sense, the future of the Schneider Duchy was looking pitch black.
* * *
“Vicious bastard.”
Hardy and the other two dwarves looked as if their souls had been sucked out of them.
[I gave my all to save the dwarf race! I saved the race, and you’re being stingy over one sword—no, two! No, technically four blades!]
[GIIIIIIIVE THEEEEEEEM BAAAAAAAACK! My brother-in-law, who’s an Elf, wasn’t like this! My younger brother Tan, from the Orc tribe, wasn’t like this eitheeeeer!]
[Swords exist for people, not people for swords! Oh, woe is me! Everyone, look at these stingiest dwarf geezers in the world… Mmph! Mmph!]
There was simply no way out.
Dwarves were second to none when it came to stubbornness, but Patrick Schneider’s tantrums were on a whole different level.
He threw away all dignity and rolled around on the floor throwing a fit, while every single word he spat out ruthlessly gouged at their consciences.
On top of that, he added the threat that if they didn’t give in, he would go around complaining to everyone about how wronged he was (about what?).
“…Vicious bastard.”
Hardy ground his teeth just thinking about it.
At the very least, he had managed to negotiate a promise that if any ore veins were discovered during the future pioneering of the Great Forest, the dwarf race would be given priority development rights.
“With that, the rest of the clan should understand, right? Surely?”
“You think so?”
“Go die, you blockhead!”
his two associates were no help.
Hardy slammed his head down in despair once more.
* * *
The outskirts of the Schneider Territory.
Patrick had traveled to a location far beyond even the Red Rock Tribe’s encampment for a specific purpose.
“Hmm…. This might actually work.”
Before Patrick lay two pairs of swords.
Two Black Swords.
Two White Swords.
The White Swords, which increased the speed of his speed-oriented Fast Sword styles.
The Black Swords, which increased the destructive power of his attacks.
To obtain these four swords, he had to roll around on the floor and throw a tantrum in front of the dwarves.
Why? Why did he have to go that far?
[Because it’s you.]
“Ahem, Master, if you don’t know the details, stay out of it. There’s a reason for all of this.”
[Because you’re overflowing with greed.]
“Tsk, you’re being especially harsh today.”
[A man who calls himself the Great Disciple of the Twin Dragon Sect throws away all dignity and rolls on the floor to get his way? Do you still call yourself a Great Hero?]
“I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you. I can’t hear a thing.”
Patrick covered his ears and tried his best to ignore his Master’s nagging echoing within him.
It was true that he had been greedy, and he knew he had been somewhat unreasonable. But still.
“I need these.”
More than just wanting them, he needed both pairs of swords.
“Theoretically, it should be possible. Entirely possible.”
Patrick muttered as he stared at the two pairs of swords. Then, he reached out and gripped them.
“Twin Dragons Eight Sword Styles….”
And then, Patrick initiated a sword form.
* * *
Rumble, rumble, rumble….
“Huh? What is it?”
“It’s an earthquake!”
“Whoa! Get down!”
The residents of the Schneider Duchy were thrown into a panic as the ground suddenly began to shake violently.
Their vision blurred, and water cups on tables rattled and moved.
Terrified by this natural disaster, people huddled in safe places, shielding their families.
And a moment later.
“Is it over?”
“Fortunately, it was short.”
“You can say that again.”
People felt relieved that the earthquake had ended quickly.
“How strange. An earthquake in our territory?”
“It’s the first time in my thirty years of living here.”
The Schneider Territory had its share of monster trouble, but it wasn’t a region prone to earthquakes.
The residents thought it was odd, but they were thankful the quake had passed without damage and soon forgot about it. And….
“Whoa….”
At the source of the vibration that people had perceived as an earthquake, Patrick Schneider let out a sigh of relief.
“Good thing I did this outside. If I’d done it at the training grounds, I might have leveled the entire royal castle.”
Everything within a 200-meter radius of Patrick had been destroyed without a trace.
A new realm.
And new swords.
Added to that, the result of a hypothesis Patrick had been forming in his mind was….
“That tabby cat is so dead.”
It was enough to make Patrick clench his fists in determination.