Chapter 84: It's My First Time with Royalty (1)
Chapter 84: It's My First Time with Royalty (1)
Three months had passed since Patrick entered the Academy.
Who was it that said humans are creatures of adaptation?
Though he had caused a massive scene when he first arrived, Patrick had gradually adjusted to academy life.
He would wake up in the morning, put on the clothes April laid out for him, go to the dining hall to eat, and attend his morning classes.
He’d spend the time lazily swinging a wooden sword and letting the professors' lectures go in one ear and out the other until lunchtime arrived.
After lunch, the afternoon was dedicated to overseeing Matthew’s training.
Under Patrick’s tutelage, Matthew was undergoing an experience bordering on hell, yet he was slowly getting used to—
“Oh, you think you can handle this now? Let’s increase the weight.”
“Kuaaaaagh…!”
The day he would truly get "used to it" never came.
And it likely never would.
However, the results were undeniable. Thanks to the training Patrick forced upon him, muscle began to cling to Matthew’s previously frail frame. He could now easily maintain the horse stance—the very first exercise he’d been assigned—for half a day without breaking.
Once training concluded, Patrick would personally carry the collapsed Matthew back to the dormitory.
As a rule, Matthew’s training didn't end until he passed out.
After tucking Matthew into bed, Patrick would infuse Qi from head to toe, mending his ruptured muscles and realigning his twisted meridians.
The unconscious Matthew likely had no idea, but the reason his body hadn't broken despite the grueling training was entirely thanks to Patrick performing True Qi Guidance every single day to restore him.
This was a level of care Patrick hadn't even shown the soldiers in his own territory. Why, you ask?
How could he possibly do this for two hundred men individually?
“You should be grateful. You’re the first person I’ve ever looked after this intensively,” Patrick grumbled, yet he continued to heal Matthew’s body day after day.
When the recovery session was over and he stepped outside, April would be waiting for him.
“Good work, Young Master.”
“Yeah. What’s for dinner tonight?”
“I believe it’s a chicken dish.”
“Chicken, huh… That would go well with a drink.”
“Shall I prepare some?”
“Ahem. How could I possibly drink in the Academy’s dining hall?”
Patrick rebuked April with a stern expression, then licked his lips and added, “I’ll have to go out to drink.”
That’s even worse, you brat.
* * *
“Phew… This is the life. Living in the capital isn't so bad after all.”
His days consisted of training Matthew by day and wandering the night streets of White Town by night, leisurely drinking away Red’s money.
Unauthorized outings and underage drinking.
If Baron Schneider saw this, he would likely clutch the back of his neck and collapse, but Patrick was quite satisfied with his current lifestyle.
“Come to think of it, I’ve wanted a leisurely life like this my whole life.”
Jincheon, the Radiant Dragon Hero—the great orthodox warrior who saved the Martial World from crisis.
“Hmph… What a load of crap.”
He had never wanted any of that.
The high-and-mighty lords of the prestigious orthodox sects prated about the "Great Cause" or "Righteousness," but in his past life, Patrick had never let such words cross his lips.
Terms like "Great Hero" were just labels others forced upon him; he had never asked to be called that.
Why did such a man stand at the very front and fight like a madman against the Unorthodox Faction?
There was only one reason.
“Master, you see… I just wanted to be praised by you.”
After taking a sip of the alcohol in his hand, Patrick looked up at the sky.
“That was really all there was to it.”
Defeating the Unorthodox Faction, helping the poor, hunting down Demon Warriors who strayed from the Heavenly Demon Cult or the Blood Demon Cult…
The motivation behind the Radiant Dragon Hero Jincheon’s tireless, life-risking exploits was nothing more than this.
Like a child seeking affection from a parent, Patrick had thrown himself into danger just to hear a single word of praise from his Master.
That was how absolute his Master was to him.
His Master had picked up a boy who was like a wildcat, viewing the whole world as his enemy, and turned him into a human being.
Back then, for the first time in his life, Patrick realized what kindness felt like.
He could never forget that single bowl of thin porridge his Master had made for a brat caught stealing, even though the Master had nothing to eat himself.
To repay the debt of that one bowl, Patrick had dedicated his entire life to his Master.
“Heh, come to think of it, I have no right to curse my Master for being a pushover.”
Since he had given everything just because he couldn't forget the grace of a bowl of porridge, he truly was his teacher's disciple.
“Master… when I died at Nakbongpa in the end… were you very angry?”
He couldn't hear an answer, but it was obvious how his Master would have reacted.
The war was likely won.
At that time, Jincheon, the Radiant Dragon Hero, had committed mutual destruction along with the majority of the Unorthodox Faction’s elite forces.
The military strength the Unorthodox Faction had gathered to take Patrick down accounted for over eighty percent of their total power.
Since most of them died with Patrick, the war must have ended in a victory for the Orthodox Faction.
If they couldn't win against the remaining twenty percent, they might as well go die.
No matter how incompetent the leaders of the Murim Alliance were, they couldn't be that stupid.
So, the war would have been won. But…
“Are you doing okay, Master? Even without me?”
No matter how shameless or corrupt the prestigious orthodox sects were, they wouldn't dare openly persecute his Master and the Twin Dragon Sect.
So, even without the Radiant Dragon Hero, the Twin Dragon Sect would be fine. But would his Master actually be happy about that?
“There’s no way.”
He would be angry.
He would be sad.
He would grieve for his disciple’s death and shed tears of lamentation.
Patrick had no way to comfort his Master.
What could he do when they lived in entirely different worlds?
For all intents and purposes, Jincheon, the Radiant Dragon Hero, was dead.
“I’m sorry, Master. …I’m sorry.”
He offered an apology that could never reach its destination.
He did so with the lingering hope that, just maybe, it might.
“…Tsk, look at me being all sentimental.”
Patrick grumbled to himself.
There was nothing more foolish than clinging to a situation for which there was no solution.
Patrick knew this well, yet seeing himself act this way…
“Am I getting old?”
If he combined his past and current lives, he was over sixty.
His body was vibrant, but perhaps his heart had softened with the passage of time.
Seeing as he was indulging in such pointless sentimentality.
Whoosh!
Just then.
As he was passing the training grounds, a sound tickled Patrick’s ears.
A familiar sound.
A sound he had heard more than any other.
The sound of a sword cutting through the wind.
“Who is it? Someone actually diligent enough to train at this hour? Is it Matthew?”
He knew Matthew had good grit, but if he had enough to perform voluntary training alone at this hour, he deserved high praise.
Thinking he would go and give him a pointer if it really was Matthew, Patrick strolled toward the sound.
And what he saw upon arriving at the training grounds was…
“Ugh… Matthew, you gritless bastard.”
It wasn't Matthew.
Standing there was a peerless beauty with flowing ebony hair, swinging her sword into the empty air.
A beautiful woman training alone, staying later than anyone else in the dead of night.
Her identity was Isabella Black Atronia, a third-year student at the Academy and the Princess of this kingdom.
Patrick sat down on one side of the training ground and watched the scene.
Seeing her swing her sword with that rare black hair fluttering, he was reminded of his wife from his past life…
Wait, no I’m not.
Actually, his wife didn't know how to use a sword.
The Sichuan Tang Clan primarily used poison and hidden weapons, and in rare cases, the women used whips.
However, Jincheon’s wife, the Saintess Tang Su-yeon, used neither hidden weapons nor whips. She…
[It’s all about the impact.]
With a body that could rival the Shaolin’s Indestructible Diamond Body, she would charge in with clenched fists and smash her opponents to pieces.
In fact, like most people Patrick was close to in his past life, she was far from ordinary.
“Still, she was a truly unique woman. I mean, even my father-in-law said that when we got married.”
When someone steals away a daughter born and raised in a prestigious family, aren't there normal things a father-in-law usually says?
Live a good life.
Don't make her suffer.
If you make her cry, I won't let it slide.
He had expected words like those.
But the Head of the Sichuan Tang Clan at the time, the Radiant Dragon Hero’s father-in-law, was different.
He had approached Jincheon, gripped both his hands tightly, and with tears welling in his eyes, said the one sentence Patrick could never forget.
[No returns.]
[…Pardon?]
And then, with a refreshed face as if his own suffering was finally over, he turned and walked away without looking back.
Still, we were a good match. Thinking about it makes me miss her. My wife.
Just as Patrick was immersed in memories of his past life…
“…….”
“Huh?”
He realized it.
Princess Isabella was staring blankly in his direction.
It wasn't like he had been particularly suppressing his presence, but…
What? Why? So what?
Patrick, who had never backed down from a staring contest in his life, stared right back at Princess Isabella.
“…….”
“…….”
The two of them stared at each other from a distance for a while.
Then, Isabella was the first to approach Patrick.
“You? A first-year?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“…….”
“Why? Did I do something wrong? Is it a crime to just be at the training grounds?”
Patrick took a defiant tone.
In the Martial World, peeking at someone else’s training could lead to a sword fight, but there was no such unwritten rule here.
Besides, Patrick had never cared much for such rules even back in the Martial World.
So, Patrick acted boldly, as if his conscience was perfectly clear.
However, Princess Isabella’s elegant finger pointed at something and she spoke.
“Is that alcohol?”
“…Uh, uhhh….”
This was a rare sight.
Patrick was genuinely flustered.
Ah, right. I was drinking.
No matter how you looked at it, an Academy student getting caught drinking inside the Academy by a senior was bound to be a problem.
Here, Patrick decided to use an excuse often employed by famous figures in the Martial World.
“Hahaha. This is not alcohol, but grain tea.”
“…It’s alcohol, isn't it?”
“It doesn't work? You damn monks.”
“……?”
Anyway, those baldies are never helpful in life. Never.
Princess Isabella spoke to Patrick in a grave voice.
“I’m going to report you to the professors for drinking and bringing in prohibited items.”
“Ugh… How petty of you to be so upright.”
Was that petty?
Setting aside Patrick’s sense of ethics, there was nothing he could do here.
“Fine. Go ahead then.”
What could he do since he’d been caught?
He’d just serve another confinement or something.
Patrick was thinking like a typical delinquent student.
To that Patrick, Princess Isabella said, “Are you really okay with that?”
“If I’m not okay, what am I going to do? It’s not like they’ll expel me.”
“They will.”
“…Really?”
He didn't know that.
To the startled Patrick, Isabella said, “Drinking inside the Academy, bringing in prohibited items, and if you went out and bought it yourself, that’s also an unauthorized outing.”
“…….”
“Those are more than enough grounds for expulsion.”
“Uh… that wouldn't be good.”
He was just starting to liiiiiike this Academy a little bit.
They fed him, they housed him, and it was easy to sneak out and buy a drink.
Truly, people needed to play in a bigger pond; the developed capital was much better than a rural estate.
But if he got expelled now…
That’s a problem. If I get expelled now, my father will flip out, won't he?
He had come to the Academy to finally show some filial piety, so this was problematic.
Patrick glanced at Princess Isabella and said, “Can’t you just not say anything?”
“Why should I?”
“That’s…”
Come to think of it, there was no reason for the Princess to keep her mouth shut.
She had no loyalty to him, and there was no benefit to her in doing so.
What should I do?
Usually, in times like this, Patrick would solve most of the world's problems by beating the other person into silence, but…
It’s my first time with royalty.