Chapter 71: Hey Guys (2)
Chapter 71: Hey Guys (2)
“But it was reckless. If you go up against Roist, your life at the academy—no, your life as a knight—is going to be difficult.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve heard that Roist’s last name is Panola, right? Still, thank you for having the courage to step in.”
“Huh?”
“But next time…”
“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on a second.”
Petrick covered the other boy’s mouth to stop him from talking.
“You’re moving way too fast. Let’s start over from the beginning.”
“Oh? Uh… okay.”
“I’m Petrick Schneider. And you?”
“My name is Matthew.”
“Right. Good to know.”
“…You’re not surprised?”
“By what?”
“I don’t have a last name. I’m a commoner. Is that okay with you?”
“Huh? You keep saying weird things. Aren’t you a student at the academy?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Then what does it matter? Anyone can enter the academy if they pass the exam, right? Even I know that, and I’m from some backwater in the Eastern Region.”
“Uh, yeah. I guess that’s true.”
What Petrick said was the truth.
The academy’s doors were open to everyone—nobles, illegitimate children, and commoners alike. Once admitted, there was supposed to be no distinction in status between students.
They were all just students.
That was the rule. It was definitely the rule, but…
“Still, the fact remains that I’m a commoner.”
That was the thing about rules.
It was impossible to follow them perfectly, and over time, they often became diluted or compromised by the walls of reality.
“You timid little brat.”
Petrick looked at Matthew as if he were pathetic.
“Sorry.”
“Hey. I wasn’t telling you to apologize.”
“…Sorry.”
“I told you not to apologize!”
“…Sor—”
“You wanna die? You testing me? You want a piece of this?”
“Hup!”
Matthew, who was about to apologize reflexively, quickly covered his own mouth.
It was because he had glimpsed a hint of extraordinary madness in Petrick’s eyes.
Seeing Matthew hurriedly silence himself, Petrick let out a sigh.
“Don’t apologize if you haven’t done anything wrong. That’s the twenty-seventh thing I hate most, okay?”
Matthew nodded while keeping his hand over his mouth.
This guy sure has a lot of things he hates, he thought, even in that moment.
Then Petrick spoke.
“I’m hungry. Where do I go to eat?”
“You have to go to the Knight Department cafeteria.”
“Really? Is it paid? Or free?”
“…It’s free.”
“Kaaaah. Yes. That’s how it should be. They should feed us for free.”
With one of his internal concerns resolved, Petrick said with a bright smile, “Then shall we go grab some food? Hey, lead the way.”
“Oh. Okay.”
And so, Petrick took Matthew and headed to the cafeteria. And then…
“Kaaaah, this is the real deal. The real deal. This menu is meat, meat, and more meat.”
He was extremely satisfied with the Knight Department’s meal, which was packed with protein.
Beef, pork, lamb, chicken, and some other meat he couldn’t identify.
The Knight Department cafeteria was so full of meat it felt like a protein overdose.
It’s a bit of a shame there’s no booze, but it can’t be helped. I’ll just sneak some in later.
Apparently, not drinking it wasn't an option.
Watching Petrick pile his tray high with meat and munch away happily, Matthew thought to himself:
Is he just thoughtless? Or does he not realize what he’s done?
Matthew stared blankly at Petrick, his own tray containing less than a quarter of the other boy’s portion.
There wasn't a single trace of worry or anxiety on Petrick’s face as he chewed his meat with an expression of pure bliss.
“Um, are you really okay?”
“Wha’?”
“Swallow before you talk.”
“Munch, munch, munch… cough, cough…”
“Please, have some water.”
April, who was standing behind Petrick, poured a cup of water and handed it to him. Petrick gulped it down.
He’s… he’s so handsome. How can a human look like that?
Matthew stared blankly at the butler behind Petrick.
This wasn’t just "handsome"—it was insane.
Were they even the same species? Did he have the blood of the legendary High Elves in him?
Even as a fellow man, Matthew’s heart fluttered just looking at him.
“Hey?”
“Huh? Oh…”
“Why are you spacing out in the middle of a conversation?”
“Ah, sorry…”
“I told you to stop apologizing. So, what were you going to say?”
“Uh… well, you see.”
“……”
“What was it again?”
I’m gonna lose it with this guy!
While the urge to smack him grew steadily inside Petrick, Matthew finally spoke.
“Roist is the third son of the Marquis Panola family.”
“What? Marquis Panola?”
“Yeah. You know the name, right?”
“No, never heard of it.”
“……”
Seeing Petrick respond so nonchalantly, Matthew asked, “Then why did you act all surprised just now?”
“Because it’s fun.”
“……”
Mom, I don’t like this guy. He’s weird.
To think he was only realizing it now…
Marquis Panola was one of the top five knights in the Atronia Kingdom and the Captain of the Royal Knight Order.
He was a master swordsman who had personally reached the 6-Star Realm, and he was a figure burdened with the expectation that he might one day reach 7-Star.
Roist was the third son of such a man.
If one got on Marquis Panola’s bad side, academy life would be the least of their worries.
What would it mean for a knight to be blacklisted by the Captain of the Royal Knight Order?
It meant they would have to leave the capital, for starters.
At best, they’d be shuffled between minor posts in the sticks, or perhaps deployed on dangerous missions where their life would be at risk.
Because he was the son of Marquis Panola, no one among the first-years dared to cross Roist.
In fact, even the seniors couldn't treat Roist lightly.
Yet Petrick had publicly humiliated him and then capped it off with a double flying kick.
“Do you understand how dangerous a situation you’re in now?”
At Matthew’s earnest explanation, Petrick let out a smirk. Then, picking his teeth with a toothpick April handed him, he spoke.
“So what?”
“Exactly. So, even if it’s tomorrow… huh?”
“In short, he’s a young master from a rich family who grew up spoiled and turned into a delinquent with the personality of a crushed toad. Isn’t that it?”
“Uh… yeah…”
There were too many unfamiliar words in the middle for him to understand everything.
But somehow, the words seemed to pierce right to the heart of the matter.
“Well, I figured he was that kind of guy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, those types are all the same.”
The fact that he had a pack of followers despite being a first-year meant he either had skill or a great background.
Since the skills of brats are usually all around the same level, for such a clear hierarchy to be established, he had to be from a good family.
“I know those types veeeery well.”
“Truly?”
“Yeah. I’ve dealt with plenty of them.”
[How dare you, you scoundrel! Do you not fear the Great Mount Hua Sect?]
[You dare ignore me? Are you insulting the Great Wudang Sect?]
[Amitabha. In the name of the Great Shaolin, I shall punish your insolence.]
There were so many of them. Idiots who hid behind the names of their sects or families and counted that as their own strength. Why do they all love the word "Great" so much?
What would the Radiant Dragon Hero have done to such people?
For the record, people acting arrogant based solely on their background was the sixth thing Petrick hated most.
As mentioned before, once you get into the single digits, things get serious.
“I know exactly what those guys do. It’s predictable. I’ll handle it, so don’t worry about it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. So stop worrying and eat your meat.”
“Okay. I will.”
Only after Petrick said it was fine did Matthew finally start munching on the lamb on his plate.
The kid’s nice, at least.
“Haaa… that was a good meal.”
With a full stomach, Petrick returned to his quarters and flopped down.
As expected, free food tasted the best.
Though he had entered the academy under duress to fulfill his duty as a son, he was starting to like the place a little.
“Young Master, you should wash up before you sleep.”
“I know, I know. I’ll just lie here for a second and then get up.”
“I will prepare the bathwater.”
April moved to fill the tub, but there was no need.
Knock, knock.
A knock sounded from outside the door.
“Who is it?”
When April opened the door, a completely unexpected person was waiting there.
“Is Petrick Schneider inside?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Call him out for a moment.”
“Please wait a moment.”
April then turned to Petrick.
“Young Master. A professor has come to see you.”
“A professor? Why that old man?”
“I do not know his business. Shall I ask?”
“No, it’s fine. Tell him to come in.”
But before April could finish, Professor Late stepped inside.
Entering the room of a student who hadn't even unpacked yet, Professor Late looked at Petrick.
“I came by a moment ago, but you weren't here.”
“I went to eat.”
“I see. In that case, come out for a moment.”
“Why?”
Professor or not, why are you calling me? I’m too lazy to move.
Professor Late spoke to Petrick, whose emotions were written clearly on his face.
“Let’s get some post-meal exercise.”
*
The training ground of the Knight Department.
In that place, where the sun had set and only minimal lighting remained, three men(?) stood.
Petrick, April, and Professor Justin Late.
Professor Late gripped a real sword and looked at Petrick.
“Shall we… begin?”
“This is so sudden.”
“Faster is better.”
“Ayy… that might be true, but there should be a reason, right? Don’t you think?”
At Petrick’s words, Professor Late muttered, “How troublesome…” then thought for a moment before saying, “Let’s call it a sequel to this morning’s test.”
“Are tests usually done twice?”
“Well, I’ve decided it is.”
“Starting from today?”
“I like that you’re quick on the uptake.”
“It’s because I’m exceptionally brilliant.”
Professor Late gave a smirk.
“Then use that brilliant head of yours to think about what you should do right now.”
“Uuuugh, I guess I have no choice. It doesn’t look like you’ll let me go unless we have a bout.”
“You know me well.”
A deep smile hung on Professor Late’s lips.
The only reason he had sought out the student Petrick and brought him to the training ground under the moonlight was one thing.
A swordsman’s competitive spirit.
If he wanted to make excuses, he could come up with all sorts of things, but that was his true motive.
In the morning’s test, Late hadn't been able to grasp Petrick’s true skill at all.
Even with his eyes—the eyes of one of the only five 6-Star Knights in the kingdom—he couldn't see Petrick’s bottom.
Of course, it could be because the opponent was a weakling.
It was impossible to see Petrick’s depths by pitting him against Roist in the first place. Therefore…
“I have no choice but to check for myself…”
“Ayy, Professor, you’re not up to the task.”
“You have quite the confidence. Then, let that confidence be prov—”
In an instant, Professor Late recoiled and took a step back in shock.
It was a movement like a wild animal startled by a natural predator. Petrick clapped his hands in praise.
“Ooooh… you survived once. As expected of a 6-Star. Impressive. Truly impressive.”
“…Just now?”
“Shall we go again?”
“Wh— Hup!”
Late hurriedly shifted his body to the side.
Petrick nodded at the movement, which looked like someone dodging an enemy’s attack in a real life-or-death battle.
“Good senses, good reactions. But you know you got grazed a bit on the second one, right?”
“……”
Professor Late’s jaw dropped.
What he had just dodged was Petrick’s Killing Intent.
It wasn't surprising for a swordsman who could manipulate Aura to spread Killing Intent and overwhelm an enemy with their presence.
However, the Killing Intent Petrick had just unleashed was refined into a singular attack.
The first attack was a clean vertical strike.
The moment he felt it, Professor Late had dodged immediately.
The second attack was a horizontal slash aimed at his throat.
He had tried to dodge this one as well, but because the attack was faster than the first, his face had been slightly grazed.
He said "slightly," but in a real fight, it was a strike that would have decided the match.
Is such a thing even possible? With just presence alone…
“Don’t be too amazed. Once you get used to this kind of thing, any Tom, Dick, or Harry can do it.”
“Haha… hahahaha…”
“Killing Intent is just Killing Intent. No matter how sharply you slash with it, no one dies from being hit by it. So…”
Petrick drew the swords held in both hands. He looked at Professor Late and smiled.
“Now the real thing begins. Are you ready?”
Late swallowed hard.
The desire to test Petrick’s depths had already vanished.
Instead, what dominated his heart now was the yearning to learn a lesson from a master who was clearly on a level far above his own.