Chapter 85: It's My First Time with Royalty (2)
Chapter 85: It's My First Time with Royalty (2)
That was the problem.
No matter how reckless Patrick had been since his days as the Radiant Dragon Hero Jincheon, he had never actually beaten up a member of the royalty.
Not in his past life, and certainly not in this one, had he ever dealt with royalty directly.
Because of that, he couldn't quite get a feel for the situation.
If I just smack her... that wouldn't be good, right?
Patrick, the eldest son of a landed noble who had sworn loyalty to the crown, beating up a royal?
That would be treason.
If he committed treason, the state would try to exterminate his entire extended family. Then Patrick would have to wage war against the state, and if that happened, the Atronia Kingdom would fall. Therefore...
"For the sake of the kingdom's future, could you please keep this a secret?"
"What are you talking about?"
"It's a long story... Sigh."
Regardless of the length, why would a sane person understand the logic of a madman?
If compromise through conversation wasn't working, what was he supposed to do?
Should I just beat her up? Maybe if she gets amnesia, it'll solve everything cleanly.
Just then, Patrick’s eyes landed on the sword Isabella held in one hand.
Ah, right. That'll work.
A woman out alone at this late hour, swinging a sword.
Her personality was obvious.
The solution seemed clear.
"Princess, care for a spar?"
"...Suddenly?"
"Ahem, how can time or place possibly matter when a swordsman discusses the blade?"
"......"
What was this? The words sounded right, but why did he feel so utterly untrustworthy saying them?
Under Isabella’s suspicious gaze, Patrick continued.
"You seem to be at the tail end of the 3-Star level. I'll go easy on you. Sparring with a master will be a hundred times more helpful than swinging a sword alone under the moonlight."
"Ha... You?"
Isabella laughed as if it were absurd and looked at Patrick.
For the first time, a smile touched her cold expression.
Even if that smile was filled with ridicule, it was undeniably beautiful.
Come to think of it, she thought she knew who this first-year was.
"Patrick Schneider. Right?"
"Yes, that's right. I see you know me."
"You're famous."
"Me?"
Patrick didn't know it, but he was already a celebrity in the Academy's Knight Department.
He had caused one accident after another since the moment he enrolled, and in one of those incidents, he had utterly crushed a third-year, Jordic Panola.
Thanks to that, Patrick's name was widely known not only among the first-years but also among the second and third-years.
"You're the first-year who beat Jordic Panola, aren't you?"
"I mean, I am, but is beating that guy up really something to get famous over?"
At Patrick's words, Isabella replied.
"Jordic was the runner-up among the third-years."
"Ah... I see. Then the top student is you, Princess?"
"That's right."
"Well, you do look a bit more useful than that fledgling."
Isabella felt a surge of irritation at Patrick's remark.
Ever since she realized she had a talent for the sword, she had devoted her entire life to it.
To have a first-year junior speak as if he were evaluating her—the top student of the third year—so casually...
"Arrogant."
"Ahem."
"Why do you look so proud?"
"Wasn't that a compliment?"
"......?"
Looking at Patrick, who asked with genuine curiosity, Princess Isabella thought:
This guy is not normal.
Receiving that look, Patrick puffed out his chest and said, "You're allowed to be proud of arrogance when you have the skills to back it up."
"Isn't that usually called hubris?"
"Probably not. So, are you going to do it? Or not?"
"......"
As she hesitated, Patrick put on a face that would make anyone's blood boil and began to needle her.
"Of course, if you're scared, you don't have to. I'll go easy on you, but if the Princess is afraid..."
"A knight knows no fear."
"Ho? Is that so?"
The corners of Patrick's mouth curled up.
"Then shall we prove it with a spar?"
"Fine."
"If I beat you, Princess, you must keep tonight's events a secret. And if I lose..."
Patrick thought for a moment.
What could he possibly do for a princess?
After pondering deeply, Patrick said, "Well, I'll do whatever you say. Not that I'll lose anyway."
"......"
Princess Isabella's fine brow furrowed.
She felt a strong sense of displeasure at Patrick's absolute certainty that he could never lose.
"Will you really do anything I want?"
"Of course."
"Even if I tell you to die?"
"Naturally. I said any-thing, didn't I?"
Faced with Patrick's attitude—a conviction that his losing was as impossible as the world turning upside down—Isabella leveled her sword and spoke.
"Fine. But if you lose, you really have to do whatever I command."
At her words, Patrick broke into a thick grin.
"Understood."
I knew it. I knew she'd bite.
He had dealt with this type many times in his past life.
Talented, hardworking, achieving a certain level of success, and possessing both brains and beauty.
If you just poked at their pride a little, you could hook these kids easier than a goldfish.
"Well then, shall we begin?"
Isabella's eyes twitched at Patrick's words.
"Where is your sword?"
"Sword... Ah, right, I don't have one right now."
Come to think of it, he was currently in an unarmed state. However, Patrick gave a short laugh and said, "I'll just use this."
What Patrick held up was the liquor bottle in his hand.
At that sight, sparks flew from Isabella's eyes.
"Are you trying to mock me right now?"
"Ah, forget it, just come at me. If we're doing this, let's just do it. Why so many words... Princess?"
Even so, Patrick remembered to add a polite "Princess" at the end since she was royalty.
"Don't regret this."
"I told you to just come at me... Princess."
As soon as Patrick finished speaking, Isabella charged toward him with incredible speed.
Closing the distance instantly, she launched a sharp attack aimed at Patrick's waist.
Patrick stepped back to dodge the strike that whistled through the air.
Her attack cut through empty space. However...
"Hup!"
This was where the real fight began.
The moment she forced her opponent back, Isabella let out a short breath and began to press Patrick with a relentless flurry of consecutive attacks.
Whoosh! Shhhk!
Sometimes heavy, sometimes sharp.
She constantly moved forward to pursue her retreating opponent, yet her posture never wavered.
With her center of gravity firmly maintained, she unleashed a series of disciplined strikes.
Her basics are solid.
Despite swinging her sword out of emotion, her form was precise.
It was proof that she never neglected the fundamentals. However...
"Too honest."
"What?"
The moment Princess Isabella widened her eyes to shout, Patrick's body vanished like a ghost. Before she knew it, he had taken her flank and lightly tripped her lead foot as she lunged forward.
And then, Princess Isabella...
"Wait—?"
She lost her balance and tumbled forward. She scrambled to her feet immediately, but her face was flushed bright red.
"You..."
"What did I do?"
"You tripped me! That's cowardly!"
"Oh, my head."
Patrick let out a sigh.
He looked at Isabella and said, "Yes, I cowardly tripped you. So what?"
"As a knight, aren't you ashamed?"
"Not really."
"You...!"
"Is there a rule in chivalry that says you can't trip someone?"
"......"
There wasn't. There wasn't, but...
Still, wasn't this just wrong?
"If you care about a knight's honor and dignity, you shouldn't use such petty tricks."
"Coming from the person who fell for that petty trick, that's not very convincing, is it?"
"Urgh...!"
Isabella's face turned even redder.
Patrick beckoned her with his hand and said, "I see what your problem is. I'll give you a little correction, so let's keep going."
At Patrick's words, Isabella grit her teeth and glared fiercely.
"You... be prepared."
"Prepared?"
"......"
"I'd rather noooooot?"
It was a face so obnoxious that anyone with a normal sense of aesthetics would be forced to get angry.
Isabella screamed shrilly and rushed at him.
"Die!"
Princess Isabella Black Atronia.
She had learned the sword from royal knights since childhood and had trained steadily and diligently after entering the Academy.
The sword she had forged was faithful to the basics, and with talent added to her effort, she had reached the tail end of the 3-Star level at a young age.
Orthodox swordsmanship rooted in the fundamentals.
This was good.
Just as a great tree must first take firm root, the basics for a swordsman could never be overemphasized. However...
The problem is that those roots were grown in a greenhouse.
She was too purely cultivated.
Forget actual combat experience; it seemed she had never even had a truly rough spar.
She might have had duels where swords were crossed honestly and victory or defeat was decided fairly, but she lacked the experience of exerting a tenacious obsession for true victory and squeezing out every possible resource.
A flower raised in a greenhouse.
In the Jianghu, these were the types who died especially fast.
It was the greatest weakness of the prestigious Orthodox sects.
Young people who were hailed as promising geniuses of great sects would set out on their journey through the martial world, only to lose their lives to second-rate Unorthodox warriors who were nothing special. It actually happened quite often.
Whenever that happened, there were always excuses when considering the circumstances.
The opponent used a cowardly trick.
They attacked when I was tired.
They ganged up on me.
They used poison.
The excuses were quite varied. But what did it matter?
The dead do not return to life.
"Basics are important. But they aren't everything."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm saying that believing you'll get stronger by only practicing the basics without considering real combat isn't called 'diligence'—it's called 'laziness'... Princess."
Then, Patrick lightly flicked the liquor bottle toward Isabella's face.
Splash!
"Ugh!"
The flying liquor hit her face.
It went precisely into her eyes, and Isabella, momentarily blinded, lost her target and faltered.
Patrick lunged into her embrace, closing the distance, and spoke.
"See? You're flustered, so you're stumbling."
"What... Ack!"
BOOM!
A sound like a cannon exploding rang out.
An Inch Force strike, detonated at point-blank range with zero gap.
Hit by a type of physical impact different from a standard blow, Princess Isabella's waist doubled over like a shrimp as she was sent flying backward.
"Cough... ugh..."
Patrick spoke to Princess Isabella as she lay groaning on the ground.
"Spar's over. Keep your promise."
With that final word from Patrick, she lost consciousness.
"Well, this type will keep a promise even if it kills them, so I don't have to worry, right?"
Patrick left the fallen Princess Isabella behind and took a sip from his bottle.
With this, the problem was solved.
Or so Patrick thought at the time.
At least, that's what he thought then.