Chapter 50: This Won't End Quietly (2)
Chapter 50: This Won't End Quietly (2)
The involvement of a Dark Mage.
The news spread like wildfire.
"Hmph... A Dark Mage, you say?"
"Those wretched things... they truly never disappear."
"The fact that they targeted the Count’s daughter at this timing means..."
"Mmm, it likely has something to do with the bandits on Mount Pils."
"I see. That explains why the previous subjugation force was annihilated. A Dark Mage..."
The nobles of the Eastern Region, gathered for a meeting before the campaign, were in an uproar.
Until now, they had approached this subjugation without a hint of tension. In fact, nearly all the nobles of the East had assembled under Count Parmas’s command. With this much military might, failing to suppress a mere group of bandits was unthinkable.
Thus, the subjugation was merely a formality; their true goal was to achieve greater merit than their peers, catch Count Parmas’s eye, and bring glory to their family names.
But now, those who should have been squabbling over who would lead the vanguard were subtly trying to retreat. The name "Dark Mage" carried that much weight.
Count Parmas looked at the shrinking nobles, inwardly displeased.
‘A noble’s duty is to fight and protect. If you cannot fulfill that duty because you are paralyzed by fear, you might as well die.’
To Count Parmas, someone who enjoyed the privileges of nobility without fulfilling its obligations was not a noble, regardless of how blue their blood was. They were nothing more than disgusting pigs.
However, not everyone was cowering. Some saw this crisis as an opportunity and stepped forward proactively.
A sturdy man stepped out and spoke.
"Count, please allow House Haspear to lead the vanguard."
"Ho, you, Baron Haspear?"
"Yes, my lord. Our house will be the first to ascend Mount Pils."
The Count smiled at the Baron’s words. Then, another man stepped forward from the side.
"No, leave it to House Frace. I shall lead the way myself."
"Oho, Viscount Frace. Yes, I knew you would step up."
Though he had aged, Viscount Frace had once been famous throughout the East for his bravery. Count Parmas, remembering the man’s younger days, gave a satisfied smile.
Then, yet another family stepped forward.
"House Vaison has a 4-Star Knight. If you entrust this to us, you will not regret it."
"Hahahaha! Excellent. Truly excellent."
While others retreated, they volunteered for the vanguard. Count Parmas looked at them with a benevolent smile and asked, "There is surely a Dark Mage behind the bandits of Mount Pils. Do you still wish to lead the way?"
"Of course."
"Naturally."
"Just give the word."
Seeing them answer without a moment’s hesitation, Count Parmas beamed.
"Indeed. That is the spirit of our Eastern nobles. You are the true paragons of nobility."
The nobles of the East, who ruled over the harshest lands, had always held strength and courage as virtues. Count Parmas gladly accepted the three families that had volunteered. Even if they failed to achieve great merit, they had already made a lasting impression on the Count.
"Very well. I shall entrust the vanguard to your three houses. Lead the way up Mount Pils and strike down the bandits."
"Yes, my lord!"
Watching the three nobles answer vigorously seemed to ease his worries. However, a part of him felt a lingering regret.
‘Is he not going to step forward?’
Count Parmas’s gaze shifted toward Baron Schneider.
Having seen Patrick’s skill once before, he thought the Baron might be ambitious enough to claim the vanguard, but Baron Schneider remained silent in the back. He didn't look particularly afraid, but he stood back as if it wasn't his place to intervene.
‘I suppose it would be difficult. No matter how strong young Patrick is, they lack the knightly force to support him.’
According to the reports, the troops Baron Schneider brought didn't include a single knight. No matter how much of a sword prodigy Patrick was, he was still only fifteen. Leading the vanguard without seasoned knights, relying solely on his son’s talent, could be a heavy burden.
‘Still, if the boy himself were here, his youthful blood might have driven him to step up. A shame.’
Just as Count Parmas lamented, Patrick was not present at the meeting.
At that moment, Patrick was...
"This is tea brought directly from the capital. Please, try some."
"...I prefer alcohol over tea."
"Pardon?"
"No, it’s nothing."
Patrick couldn't attend the meeting because Marianne, Count Parmas’s daughter, had summoned him.
‘Why did she call me?’
He had his doubts, but he couldn't exactly refuse a summons from the Count’s daughter. When Patrick arrived, Marianne personally brewed tea and served cookies.
"Thank you for saving me the other day."
"It was nothing."
"That’s not true. If you hadn't saved me, I might have died then."
Well, that was true. Regardless, there was nothing wrong with her expressing gratitude. He hadn't been a fan of tea in his past life, but perhaps the tea of this new world would suit his palate?
"I’ll enjoy it, then."
Patrick took a sip of the tea in front of him. And then...
‘Yep, tea still isn't for me in this life either.’
It seemed a person’s tastes didn't change even after dying and being reborn. He still couldn't understand why people paid good money for this bitter water that couldn't even get you drunk.
"How is it?"
"It’s bitter."
"Oh my. Such a concise yet accurate expression. It feels somewhat... profound."
"......"
Profound, my foot. He just said it was bitter.
Above all, Patrick was a man who hadn't had the slightest connection to "profundity" since his past life.
Even during the Shaolin Abbot’s sermons...
[Does this bald monk’s bullshit make it hurt less when I hit him?]
Even during the Wudang Sect Leader’s long-winded speeches...
[This fake-ass priest is asking for it. Come here. Get ready for a beating!]
Even during the Emei Sect Leader’s explanations...
[Is this old hag senile? Who does she think she’s kidding?]
Perhaps the reason the Twin Dragon Sect was hated by the Nine Great Sects was entirely because of this man...
In any case, there was no way a man like that would suddenly become profound just because he died and was reborn. Patrick drained the tea in one gulp and stood up.
"The tea was good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a military meeting to attend."
"Wait... Just a moment."
"Is there something else?"
At Patrick’s blunt response, Marianne spoke in a small voice.
"Does the young lord... um, have a fiancée chosen by his family?"
"I do not."
There was a young lady his mother had in mind, but there was no official engagement.
"I see. And... you said you’ll be an adult next year, right?"
"Yes, that’s correct."
"I see. Um... what do you think of older women?"
"...Pardon?"
"Older women. Not by much, maybe five years older... a woman who is very smart and capable. What do you think of someone like that?"
At this point, anyone who couldn't read the situation was an idiot. Patrick thought to himself:
‘My popularity is a curse...’
It might be surprising, but in his past life, the Radiant Dragon Hero Jincheon had quite a few rumors following him throughout the Martial World. Once he made a name for himself, matchmakers practically lived at the doorstep of the Twin Dragon Sect. Setting aside his personality and judging purely on ability, the Radiant Dragon Hero was a highly desirable groom.
He had single-handedly turned a failing third-rate sect into one known by everyone in the land. Who wouldn't want him? ‘If we bring him in as a son-in-law and make him use that talent for us, how great would that be?’ It was a delusion many had entertained at least once or twice.
Well, most of those people were those who hadn't actually met the Radiant Dragon Hero in person.
Regardless, before he met his wife and got married, Patrick had played the field quite a bit in the Martial World. His instincts hadn't dulled enough to miss the burning gaze Marianne was giving him. However...
‘Sorry. I’m not into girls who stuff their chests with cotton balls.’
That was it. Patrick had seen through Marianne’s deception at a glance. He didn't know how she did it, but that curve on that frame made no sense. It was anatomically impossible. Furthermore, the curve itself was subtly unnatural. It was undoubtedly created by stuffing a bunch of artificial things in there.
‘Impressive. Even the people researching disguise techniques in the Martial World couldn't create body curves that naturally.’
Patrick couldn't take his eyes off her, struck by the sheer tenacity of a woman’s pursuit of beauty. And...
‘Oh, my... he’s staring so much.’
Seeing Patrick unable to take his eyes off her chest (the padding) and even looking faintly impressed, Marianne squirmed in embarrassment. When other men had stolen glances at the banquet yesterday, it had only made her feel unpleasant, but Patrick’s gaze didn't feel bad at all. In fact, she wanted him to look more.
‘Expensive stuff really is better. It looks completely natural, doesn't it?’
Marianne thought Patrick was head over heels for her. To deliver the finishing blow, she reached out and stroked Patrick’s arm.
"If the young lord wishes, we could..."
"I apologize, Lady Parmas."
"......"
Patrick thought: I have to cut her off here. If he didn't want a messy situation, he had to nip it in the bud. But the problem was...
‘Young ladies raised like precious flowers tend to hold a grudge when they’re rejected.’
[How cruel! You played with my heart!]
When did I?
[If you were going to be like this, why did you save me?]
Because you were going to die.
[I’ll have my revenge. I will never forget this humiliation!]
What did I even do?
It was exhausting in many ways. He had just saved women kidnapped by bandits, women about to be killed by the Unorthodox Faction, and women about to be violated by lecherous villains by appearing at just the right time. But why did he have to earn their resentment every single time?
So, later on, he had developed his own knack for turning women down. First, Patrick bowed politely and spoke in a businesslike tone.
"I am sorry. But I fear that staying with the Lady any longer might cause a misunderstanding with Count Parmas."
"Uh... what? That is..."
"I know how much the Count treasures you, and I am concerned about continuing our meetings further. Please, understand."
"......"
"I have received your kindness with gratitude. Now, I shall take my leave."
Bowing politely, Patrick gave a triumphant smile inwardly.
‘How’s that? This is my trump card: the "I’m too scared of your dad" tactic.’
[I love you. But your father, a high official of Kaifeng, would never acknowledge our relationship.]
[I love you. But the Great Master would never allow a mere wanderer like me to become the son-in-law of the Golden Heaven Merchant Group.]
[I love you. But...]
Wow, what a piece of trash.
Regardless, it worked quite well. Though he heard later that the women of those families threw fits and cried to their fathers...
‘That’s not my problem.’
Patrick raised his head, maintaining his professional demeanor.
"Then, I shall be going."
And before Marianne could stop him, Patrick walked straight out of her room.