Chapter 41: Time to Begin Training in Earnest (1)
Chapter 41: Time to Begin Training in Earnest (1)
The byproducts from the monsters hunted and captured by the Orcs were purchased by the Red Merchant Group, who traveled directly to the Schneider fief.
Every time they visited, the Red Merchant Group brought along food and various daily necessities required by the estate.
“Now then, I’ve brought the fabrics, shoes, and farming tools as requested. The butler has already verified the goods, so please, sign for the receipt.”
“…….”
“Young Master? I need your signature.”
“Hey.”
“Yes, my cute Young Master. Is something the matter?”
“Do you want to die?”
“Oh my, how cruel! Such violent words to a fragile lady?”
“That’s it. Let’s just die together.”
As Patrick reached for his sword, Red—who was currently disguised as a beautiful female merchant—hurriedly spoke up.
“Ah, come on… It’s a disguise! A disguise!”
“Why is it a female disguise?”
“Hehehe. Who would ever imagine that the master of the Thieves’ Guild, the man who rules the back alleys of the Atronia Kingdom’s eastern region, would dress as a woman?”
“Well, that’s…”
“Besides, I have the face for it. When I dress like this, I can use my beauty to excel in various fields like espionage and intelligence gathering. Why wouldn’t I take advantage of such a strength?”
It made sense. It made sense, but…
“Oh, my eye makeup is smudged.”
Watching him pull out a small hand mirror to fix his makeup made Patrick feel a sudden, inexplicable wave of revulsion.
“Fine. Just make sure you do your job right. Got it?”
“Of course. You and I are in the same boat now, Young Master. I’ll make sure to dispose of that Ogre hide you supplied this time with the utmost care.”
“You know you have to sell it quietly, right?”
“Naturally. If I dumped that much stock onto the market all at once, it would cause a literal riot.”
Ogre hide was a precious commodity.
Armor made from it was ten times more expensive than full plate mail, and even just stretching it over a small round shield would make the item exorbitantly pricey.
Releasing such goods in bulk would not only disrupt the market but also cause other merchants to track the source of the items.
‘The Schneider fief isn’t ready to attract outside attention yet.’
Patrick knew this well.
In the Martial World, wasn’t it said that those who possessed treasures beyond their station lived short lives?
That was why he had only handed over half of the Ogre hides to Red and hadn’t even shown him the King Ogre’s hide.
“I look forward to our continued partnership, Young Master.”
Seeing Red give a graceful bow while slightly lifting his skirt made Patrick want to punch him, but he held it back with a grimace.
*
After the meeting with Red, Patrick let out a long sigh.
At any rate, the foundation was set.
By relocating the Orc tribe and having them clear the surrounding area, the safety of the fief was now guaranteed.
Through steady trade with the Red Merchant Group, the estate’s finances would also see significant improvement.
‘Ten years since I was reborn… I don’t know if it’s been long or short, but I’ve finally settled the immediate issues.’
The trivial problems were dealt with.
Which meant…
“It’s time to begin training in earnest.”
Patrick immediately headed out to gather all the soldiers of the fief.
At the Schneider training grounds.
The soldiers gathered there were standing in a perfect, razor-sharp formation at Patrick’s summons.
“You’ve arrived, Young Master!”
“You’ve arrived!”
“You’ve arrived!”
As Patrick appeared, all the soldiers saluted in unison, following Sanson’s lead.
Their attitude wasn’t merely a ritualistic gesture toward a superior. It was steeped in the kind of awe that appears when people look upon someone they truly admire and respect.
‘I can’t believe he actually took down a King Ogre.’
‘He showed us a 7-Star Aura Blade.’
‘7-Star at only ten years old? If it’s the Young Master, even the legendary 10-Star realm might not be impossible.’
‘To think someone like that is going to teach us.’
The soldiers who had witnessed Patrick’s battle against the King Ogre had returned and spread the word to the others.
The soldiers who had been skeptical had no choice but to believe it when they were ordered to move the King Ogre’s corpse to the warehouse.
How could they not believe it after seeing the body of a King Ogre—which radiated an overwhelming pressure even when hacked into four pieces?
The person standing before them now wasn’t just some common genius.
They were living in the same era as a man who might one day be spoken of as a legend. There wasn’t a single person there who didn't feel a sense of longing and admiration.
It was then that Patrick spoke to the soldiers.
“From this moment on, for the next three years, all of you are exempt from your duties as soldiers.”
A loud murmur broke out among the ranks at those words.
Patrick continued.
“I told you I would make you into knights. However, I haven't been able to focus on your training because of other matters that needed my attention. First, I apologize for that.”
As he spoke, Patrick lowered his head and apologized to the soldiers.
The soldiers were the ones who were flustered.
He might still be a boy, but for that great man to bow his head to mere common soldiers like them?
Moved by the sincerity in his gesture, the soldiers trembled where they stood.
In truth, what did Patrick have to apologize for?
He had trained the soldiers, cleared out monsters while patrolling the fief, traveled all the way to the County of Parmas to earn a fortune, and established regular trade with a merchant group.
Accomplishing even one of those would be a magnificent feat, yet Patrick had done them all.
How could neglecting their training be considered a fault?
“Young Master, please raise your head!”
“It is because we are lacking! It is not your fault, Young Master!”
“That’s right! Please, look up! we cannot bear this!”
At the soldiers’ pleas, Patrick slowly raised his head.
With a calm expression, he addressed them again.
“Since the Orcs have begun patrolling the perimeter, you won’t have to worry about monster attacks for a while. Therefore, you can enter intensive training. And I, too, will focus solely on you for the time being.”
The soldiers were deeply moved to hear that Patrick would be focusing on them.
To be personally guided by a swordsman who had reached the 7-Star realm? It was an opportunity that couldn't be bought with all the gold in the world.
‘I will trust and follow him for the rest of my life.’
‘If anyone insults the Young Master from now on, I’m going to beat them up.’
‘No, I’ll kill them.’
As the soldiers stood there in a state of emotional grace, Patrick spoke again.
“You’ve probably hated me quite a bit until now.”
The soldiers couldn't bring themselves to deny it.
Hadn't they called Patrick a demon and a monster behind his back?
But that was in the past. Now they knew the Young Master’s true heart. From now on…
“From now on, you’re going to want to kill me.”
“…….”
“…….”
“…….”
The training grounds froze at Patrick’s follow-up.
A familiar, demonic expression began to surface on Patrick’s face.
“Honestly, I’ve been taking it easy on you until now. Since I couldn't watch over your training personally, I kept things as safe and comfortable as possible. To be frank, my conscience pricked me just calling that ‘training,’ you know?”
‘That hell was taking it easy?’
‘It’s possible to grind us harder than that?’
‘Wait, what’s happening? This feels like…’
Patrick’s lips curled into a wide, wicked smirk.
“From now on, I’m going to give you my undivided attention. So…”
“…….”
“…….”
“Welcome to hell. You either get stronger, or you die! It’s one or the other, so prepare yourselves, you bastards!”
“Wa—Wait a second, Young Master!”
“This isn't right! This isn't what we signed up for!”
“I want to quit being a sold—Aaaargh!”
“We’re starting with sparring immediately!”
Without further ado, Patrick drew his twin swords and lunged at the soldiers.
Patrick Schneider, age 10.
This was the image of the man who would one day be remembered as a legend on the continent.
*
Five years later.
“Here I come!”
“Bring it!”
With powerful shouts, two soldiers collided.
Both held longswords in their hands, and the moment they clashed…
Boom! Crash! Clang-clang-clang!
A fierce battle unfolded as Aura exploded, sending thunderous echoes through the air.
Their blades danced through the sky with dazzling fluidity, and their feet moved with agile precision, never staying still for a second.
This was a clash between two mere soldiers.
Not knights, but soldiers. And even more…
“Go for it, Caron!”
“Dorian, it’ll be a disgrace if you lose this time!”
The other soldiers watching the scene looked on nonchalantly, as if there was nothing surprising about it.
As if the sight of mere soldiers of a Baron’s family clashing with swords clad in Aura was nothing special to them.
Finally, after a fierce exchange, the victor was decided.
“Haaah!”
“Ugh…!”
Unable to withstand a powerful downward strike, the soldier named Caron fell backward.
Dorian brought his sword to the fallen Caron’s throat and spoke.
“Well, that settles it.”
“Dammit…”
“Hehehe. Any other challengers? Man, this is getting too easy…”
As Dorian basked in the glory of his victory, the surrounding soldiers chimed in.
“Look at him getting cocky.”
“Should we take him down a peg?”
“I’ll do it. Move aside.”
“No, I want to kill him.”
“It’s my turn. I’m going.”
Watching the soldiers bicker over who would fight him next, Dorian raised his chin high and said, “Come one, come all. It doesn't matter who it is, you’re all pretty much the same anyway.”
“Ho-ho. Then how about me?”
“Sure! Let’s go… Huh? Captain?”
Dorian turned around to find Sanson standing there.
Like the other soldiers, Sanson also had two longswords strapped to his waist. It was proof that he had spent the last five years practicing twin-sword techniques.
However, even if they spent the same amount of time, humans were creatures whose results were never identical.
“It seems you’ve improved quite a bit. Shall we give it a go?”
“No, Captain, when did you get back? Weren't you out looking for the Lord?”
“Draw your swords first.”
“…Dammit.”
The soldier grumbled as if he were being forced to eat bitter herbs, but he didn't back down. He drew both swords and took a stance.
“Watch yourself. I’m not the same Dorian I used to be.”
“I know.”
Sanson uncrossed his arms, drew his swords, and let them hang naturally at his sides.
With an air of supreme confidence, he extended one hand forward and beckoned with his fingers.
Then, he said, somewhat awkwardly…
“Bring it on.”
“…….”
A brief silence followed.
“Wow… did you see that?”
“He looks a little embarrassed after saying it himself, doesn't he?”
“It was definitely a bit awkward.”
“Tsk tsk, the Young Master should have seen that.”
“I’m telling on him later.”
As the soldiers whispered, Sanson glared at them, and they immediately began whistling and looking at the distant mountains, feigning ignorance.
“You little shits…”
The moment Sanson muttered those words…
“Opening!”
Dorian lunged at Sanson, seizing the moment.
It was an incredibly fast and lethal attack aimed at an opponent whose attention was divided.
His twin blades split into four or five afterimages, striking at Sanson from all directions. However…
“Too messy.”
Sanson’s two swords moved at a much faster speed, erasing all the sword shadows Dorian had created.
Clang!
The moment the blades collided, Dorian couldn't withstand the impact and was pushed back.
“Kh…!”
He tried to retreat further to create some distance, but…
“Slow.”
Sanson, who had closed the gap in an instant, crossed his two swords in an ‘X’ shape against Dorian’s neck.
The cold, sharp sensation froze Dorian in his tracks. He raised both hands and said, “I surrender.”
It was a perfect suppression.
Sanson smiled, lowered his swords, and offered some advice.
“Don’t just blindly retreat because you’re in a panic. The Young Master has told us a thousand times that predictable movements are dangerous.”
“Yes… I understand.”
It was only a single exchange, but Sanson had easily subdued Dorian.
This was the level of skill the soldiers of the Schneider fief had acquired in exchange for witnessing hell over the past five years.
Every single soldier had reached the 3-Star realm, and Sanson, the guard captain, had surpassed 4-Star and was recently eyeing the 5-Star realm.
Sanson continued to lead the training, engaging in instructional sparring with the other soldiers.
And from the roof of the distant manor, someone was watching the scene.
“Kaaaah. They’re all grown up. All grown up.”
A young man sat there with a bottle of liquor by his side, admiring the view with an air of leisure.
In truth, he was a fifteen-year-old boy who had yet to have his coming-of-age ceremony, but with his sturdy build, he looked like a fully grown adult. This boy was Patrick Schneider.
Watching the soldiers spar, Patrick tilted his bottle and spoke with tears of pride in his eyes.
“Seeing those guys finally amount to something… it brings a tear to my eye.”