Chapter 63: I Have a Bad Feeling. A Very Bad One (1)
Chapter 63: I Have a Bad Feeling. A Very Bad One (1)
“Huh? How did you get in here?”
As Patrick asked back in surprise, April replied.
“The Baron was looking for you, Young Master, so I came to find you.”
“Uh, right, thanks. But didn't they stop you on the way?”
He had clearly ordered that no one be allowed in. Had they broken their promise already? But that wasn't the case.
“They tried to block me, so I snuck in.”
“You fooled the Orcs' senses and snuck all the way here?”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“…….”
He hadn't even taught her stealth techniques.
Yet, April had managed to deceive the senses of Orcs while wearing a maid uniform fluttering with frills. Considering how sharp an Orc’s senses became from constant hunting, even a decent assassin would have found it difficult.
As expected of the Heavenly Martial Body. It’s just a cheat code.
Patrick grumbled to himself as he headed toward the Baron.
* * *
“Hahaha! Congratulations, my son.”
“…For what?”
Patrick wore a sullen expression.
Laughing out of nowhere and offering congratulations without an explanation was the forty-seventh thing Patrick hated most. To be precise, it made him wary. Usually, in these situations, it led to a headache rather than something actually worth celebrating.
It was a phenomenon that occurred frequently whenever those words came out of his Master’s mouth.
[Hahaha. Congratulations. The Martial Arts Alliance has appointed you as an instructor.]
[Hahaha. Congratulations. They say you should distribute the wealth you gained from subjugating the bandits to the commoners.]
[Hahaha. Congratulations. …….]
Congratulations, my foot…
His lifespan felt like it was being shaved away because of his Master, who always brought him troublesome, headache-inducing tasks where he did all the work only for someone else to take the credit. And now, his father—who was classified as a pushover on the same level as his Master—was grinning ear to ear and offering congratulations.
I have a bad feeling. A very bad one.
Patrick spoke cautiously, maintaining the mindset of a stray cat wary of someone offering food.
“What is it? Give me an explanation first.”
“Ahem. Right. I was so happy I forgot to explain.”
Baron Schneider looked at Patrick and said, “Didn't you save the daughter of Count Parmas recently?”
“I did.”
“And Count Parmas said he would grant you a great reward.”
“Ah, right. That reward hasn't arrived yet, has it? Is it perhaps…?”
“Yes. The Count has sent your reward. Hahaha! And a very grand one at that!”
“Whoa. Now that really is good news.”
Patrick let out a sigh of relief and broke into a smile. It seemed this really was a good thing after all. From what he had seen during the bandit subjugation, Count Parmas was a generous and fairly just man. If such a Count had put thought into a reward, it was bound to be something substantial.
“Hehehe, what is it? Money? Gold? Jewels?”
“Hahaha. It is a reward far greater than such things.”
“Ehehehehehehe!”
Patrick laughed boisterously, leaning back so far it looked like his spine might snap. Usually, the Baron would have sighed at his son’s behavior, but this time, he simply watched with a gratified smile.
“Here, this is the reward the Count has bestowed upon you. Open it yourself.”
What Baron Schneider handed over was a thin piece of paper.
Is it a land deed? Or maybe a business license for a merchant group? Kaaa… I knew he was generous. I’m living the good life thanks to you, Count.
Feeling infinite gratitude toward the Count, Patrick unfolded the paper. On it was written…
「Academy Special Admission Permit」
“Huh?”
“Congratulations, my son. You can now attend the Academy.”
“…Huh?”
“Truly, I don't know how to thank the Count for his consideration. To think my son will enter the Academy… This father of yours can now die without regrets.”
“…Huh?”
This wasn't right. This wasn't it at all.
Where was the house deed? Where was the land deed? No matter how much he flipped the paper over, all it said was that in recognition of his great contribution to the subjugation, he was being recommended for mid-term admission to the Academy by the Margrave of the East.
Hahaha. So this is it? As a reward for saving his daughter, he’s telling me to go to school?
Having grasped the full situation, Patrick gave a thin smile and spoke.
“That son of a bitch Count.”
If you don't tailor a gift to the recipient's tastes, this is the kind of reaction you get.
* * *
“Block him! Block him!”
“Seize him! It’s the Baron’s order!”
The brave soldiers of the House of Schneider raised their weapons with desperate resolve. Though they had been reborn as the strongest elite force in the East, they couldn't help but be nervous before the formidable foe in front of them.
“Move!”
“Aaaagh!”
“Ugh!”
Soldiers went flying with screams. The demon who had sent them airborne continued to charge forward, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“I said move! You bastards! Out of my way! Today, I’m going to cut off the head of that ungrateful bastard, Count Parmas!”
It was Patrick.
With a face full of genuine rage, Patrick swatted soldiers aside as he tried to go straight for the Count’s throat. The soldiers desperately stood in his way.
“Captain! The second defensive line has collapsed!”
“The third line won't hold much longer either!”
“Hold! I said hold! The Baron ordered us to stop him at all costs!”
“How are we supposed to stop that?!”
“Just do it! You idiots!”
“Reinforcements from the Red Rock Tribe have arrived!”
“Send them in immediately!”
Orcs, their muscles bulging as they held stone blades larger than themselves, gathered.
“The Great Warrior has gone mad again! Stop him!”
“Woooooargh!”
“Block him!”
“Kill—no, stop him!”
The Red Rock Tribe bravely blocked Patrick’s path. However, Patrick didn't even blink.
“Where do you think you’re ‘Woooooargh-ing’ at?!”
As Patrick charged, the green, muscular hulks flew into the air like exploding fireworks.
“Kweeeeek!”
“Kwick!”
After swatting the Orcs aside and finally breaking through all defensive lines, the one who stood in Patrick’s way at the very end was…
“This is far enough, Young Master!”
Clang!
It was a maid so beautiful that even the term 'peerless beauty' felt insufficient. With blonde hair and pale green eyes, she stood alone, successfully blocking Patrick with twin swords in her hands. Patrick’s charge, which had mowed down soldiers and Orcs like falling leaves, came to a halt for the first time before her blades.
“April, how dare you?”
“I am sorry. But you told me that if your orders conflict with the Madam’s, I should prioritize hers…”
“No, uh… I did say that. I guess I did.”
Patrick was slightly flustered. Come to think of it, he felt like he might have said something like that. Wait, if that was the case…
“Is Mother here too?”
“I am.”
The answer came from behind him.
There stood a noblewoman with brown hair, as beautiful as April but with a strangely mature charm. She walked toward him with a bitter smile, stepping through the pile of "corpses" groaning in pain.
“My dear son.”
“Ye…sss…?”
The madness that had been consuming Patrick subsided slightly. No matter how fearless Patrick was—no matter how much he liked to headbutt his problems or solve them by beating them down—his mother, Ava, was his weakness.
“I came after hearing that you were charging off to take the Count’s head. Why are you doing this?”
“Well, you see… anyone who hears my reason will have no choice but to agree.”
“Is that so? Tell me.”
“That bastard Count?”
“What about him?”
“He’s telling me to go to the Academy!”
“…….”
“So, shouldn't I be pissed? Huh?!”
Oh, my son.
My dear son.
What on earth am I going to do with you?
* * *
The situation was eventually calmed.
Well, Patrick was still like a keg of gunpowder that could explode at any moment, but that was his usual state, so it didn't matter much.
“Grrrrrr….”
Baron Schneider let out a sigh and spoke.
“Son.”
“Grrr….”
“Speak in human language.”
“Whrrrryyyyy….”
“‘Why?’ ‘Why,’ you ask? …I’m the one who wants to ask, you brat! Why? Why did you suddenly go on a rampage, screaming about taking the Count’s head? Why?!”
“Whoa, Father. You’re a Baron. Have some dignity and grace. ‘Rampage’? ‘Brat’?”
My father’s gotten quite rough.
“You… You’re in no position to discuss dignity…. Urgh….”
“Baron, please pull yourself together.”
“Get the blood pressure medicine! The medicine!”
The Baron, who looked ready to collapse while clutching the back of his neck, swallowed the medicine Lawrence brought. After gulping down a cup of cold water and taking a deep breath, he spoke again.
“Why? Why did you do it? Why? Why? Why?!”
“I told you, that bastard is telling me to go to the Academy!”
“And what of it?! Others are dying for a chance to go! There are people who try to bribe professors just to get in! Why are you throwing a fit when you’re being sent for free?!”
“Then tell those people to go. I don't want to.”
“Whhyyyyyyy?!”
The Baron felt like he was going to lose his mind. Recently, when the Eastern nobles gathered in small groups to chat, the Baron—though he couldn't join in—had overheard them. He wasn't envious of those who made a lot of money through investments, bought trendy artworks, or took in new concubines.
But there was one group of nobles he truly envied: those who exchanged news about their children attending the Academy.
[Hahaha. It seems the third-year curriculum for the Knight Department is quite grueling. My son rarely complains, but he sent a letter sounding quite distressed.]
[The Knight Department is still better off. My son, who entered the Law Faculty, is already bracing himself to repeat a year.]
[The Law Faculty? Hardly anyone graduates from there on time, do they?]
[Hahaha. That is true. I told him not to worry and just focus on his studies.]
Honestly, he was envious. To be more blunt, it made his stomach churn with jealousy. While his son was off in a corner just depleting the Count’s food supplies, other people’s children were entering the Academy—the place where the Kingdom of Atronia’s finest talents gathered to hone their skills.
There is no parent in this world who doesn't enjoy bragging about their child. Of course, Baron Schneider’s son was… brag… brag…
Is he something to brag about?
It was complicated. His son had extraordinary talent for the sword and a knack for making money, but he also had many shameful qualities that made it hard to puff out one's chest and brag with pride.
Regardless, the important thing was that the Baron had been overjoyed to the point of flying when it was decided that Patrick could enter the Academy. But the boy himself was foaming at the mouth, refusing to go.
“Son. Do you even know what kind of place the Academy is?”
“It’s a school. Obviously.”
“It is a place where the kingdom’s greatest talents gather to hone their abilities for the future!”
“Like I said, it’s a school.”
“…Huh?”
Well, yes. Technically, he was right. The words themselves were correct.
“Ahem. But the Academy established by the kingdom isn't just any school. It is the premier educational facility that selects the best talents, provides the best education, and nurtures the individuals who will be responsible for the kingdom’s future.”
“You really like the word ‘best,’ don't you?”
“Be quiet! Anyway, others fail the entrance exam multiple times because they want to go so badly. So why do you hate it even when you’re being sent there?”
“I hate it because I don't want to go.”
“What a logical reason. Isn't it?”
“No, seriously, what am I going to learn there? What is there for me to learn?”
“Ethics?”
“…Huh?”
Well, he certainly did need to learn some of that. However…
“Do I look like the type whose sense of morality will suddenly sprout just because I go there?”
“At least you know yourself.”
“Ahem!”
“Don't look proud of it!”
This hopeless brat. He’s unnecessarily good at self-assessment.
Baron Schneider let out a deep sigh and spoke in a much calmer voice.
“Son.”
“What now? What kind of trap are you setting, calling me in a voice so full of sorrow and regret?”
“It’s not a trap! It’s… I’m going to tell you something you don't know.”
“…Go ahead.”
To his son, whose face clearly said, ‘Whatever you say won't matter, but I’ll listen for now,’ Baron Schneider spoke calmly.
“Actually, I also took the entrance exam for the Academy when I was young.”
“Tsk, tsk. And you failed. What can you do? Some people just aren't cut out for it.”
“I passed.”
“…No way. Really?”
This brat…!
Baron Schneider flared up. At that moment, Lawrence, who was standing nearby, spoke with a smile.