Chapter 88: I Wish Everyone Would Just Get Lost (2)
Chapter 88: I Wish Everyone Would Just Get Lost (2)
Patrick Schneider.
That name had become so famous that there wasn't a single soul in the Academy’s Knight Department who didn't know it.
In truth, he had been somewhat famous even before that.
Mid-term admittees were rare to begin with, and this particular rarity had caused a massive scene the moment he arrived.
And he’d done it twice, no less.
Beating the pulp out of Royist the first time could be overlooked as a one-off incident.
However, defeating Jordic, a third-year student, was a major scandal even within the Knight Department.
Jordic was a renowned talent, the runner-up among the third-years, and the son of Marquis Panola.
For such a person to be crushed by a nameless freshman and then go into seclusion, even filing for a leave of absence, was more than enough to make the name Patrick Schneider famous throughout the Academy.
Up to that point, however, Patrick’s image was merely that of a highly skilled freshman. But then…
“Spar with me. Do it today, for real.”
“Patrick. What are you doing this weekend? Why don't we get leave permits and head out? I happened to get two tickets to the opera.”
“Instead of wasting time on that, spar with me.”
“My, Princess. Is that an abuse of power I hear?”
“…I don't know. Anyway, spar.”
“What do you mean you don't know?”
Princess Isabella Black Atronia, the lone flower of the Knight Department and the kingdom’s princess.
Marianne Parmas, the greatest beauty of the Administration Department and the only daughter of Count Parmas, the Margrave of the East.
Ever since these two began seeking Patrick out daily and acting like this, rumors about him spread beyond the Knight Department to the entire Academy.
“Hey, did you hear the rumor?”
“Of course. You mean the love triangle surrounding that first-year in the Knight Department?”
“One’s the Princess, and the other’s the daughter of Count Parmas.”
“The daughter of Count Parmas? You mean the beauty from the Administration Department who’s had a line of guys confessing to her since freshman year?”
“Who the hell is he to enjoy such luck?”
“Who knows? I’ve never even heard of House Schneider before.”
“Me neither. Is he rich, maybe?”
“No way. I heard it’s the poorest territory in the East.”
“Then what is it? Is he handsome?”
“I did hear the butler he brings around is handsome.”
“Oh, I heard that too. Doesn't he have a butler who’s so handsome he doesn't even look human?”
“I saw him once, and he was insanely good-looking. No, beyond just good-looking… I couldn't even tell why a man was that beautiful… Hey. No. Stop. It’s not like that. Don’t walk away from me.”
“Just stay back for now.”
And so, Patrick instantly established himself as a celebrity within the Academy.
As a bonus, rumors also spread that he traveled with a butler of transcendent beauty.
*
“Just once.”
“…For now.”
“Forget ‘for now,’ I said just once. Do you understand?”
“…….”
Isabella’s cheeks puffed out in a pout.
She didn't know it, but if the people of the Martial World had seen this, they would have been struck with horror.
Jincheon, the Radiant Dragon Hero—the notoriously stubborn, ill-mannered scoundrel with zero personality, overflowing madness, and a complete lack of interest in anything that didn't make money—was currently making a ‘concession.’
If his friends from his past life had seen this, they would have expressed grave concern, thinking, Is it finally time for him to die?
‘Ugh, seriously, if she weren't royalty…’
Patrick had no choice.
He had dealt with all sorts of people, but royalty was a first for him.
He couldn't beat her to a pulp, he couldn't yell at her, and he couldn't threaten her.
He had tried digging his heels in and refusing until the very end, but his opponent was no ordinary leech.
She clung to him, begging for just one more spar, and frankly, it was incredibly annoying.
Since she pestered him for a duel day and night, it was now difficult for him to even sneak out at night for a drink.
‘Yeah. A person needs some time to themselves. How can she have no consideration? None at all…’
In reality, sneaking out at night to drink was a violation of school rules, and that very violation was what had caused this mess in the first place—but since when did Patrick care about things like that?
“Just once. I’m not doing it again.”
“…We’ll see.”
“What do you mean ‘we’ll see’?!”
“Anyway, let’s start.”
Isabella drew her sword first and lunged at Patrick.
Watching her, Patrick let out a small sigh and raised his sword to parry her attack.
Clang!
As their blades met, Isabella immediately shifted her footing, trying to circle around to Patrick’s blind spot.
Patrick used the sword in his other hand to strike toward the direction she was moving, forcing Isabella to retreat hastily.
The moment she stepped back, she kicked off the ground with her rear foot and delivered a sharp thrust.
“Hah!”
A piercing thrust that used her entire body’s momentum, with the tip of the sword as the lead.
Patrick swung his sword and batted it away.
Clang!
Her all-out thrust was pushed aside by the powerful parry, and her posture, which had been committed to the strike, crumbled.
However, instead of trying to regain her balance, she used the momentum to spin her body, launching a sharp circular slash back at Patrick.
Clang!
Their swords collided sharply, sending sparks flying.
‘Oh, she’s actually put some thought into this.’
Patrick felt a slight sense of admiration as he parried Isabella’s attacks.
Since she kept shouting for a duel, Patrick had assumed she was just burning with a competitive streak.
You know the type.
The kind of person with high pride who, despite losing cleanly, refuses to accept the defeat, makes up excuses to rationalize it, and deludes themselves into thinking they can win if they just try again.
But Isabella was different.
If she truly hadn't accepted her defeat, she wouldn't have paid any mind to the weaknesses Patrick had pointed out in their previous spar.
But now, she was moving in a way that compensated for those weaknesses in her own style.
Thanks to that, her swordsmanship, which had been trapped in textbook forms, was now a bit more free and vibrant than before.
This kind of progress isn't something someone who refuses to admit defeat can achieve.
It was progress earned only because she had accepted her loss and obediently taken to heart the criticisms that had stung her pride.
‘Well, she’s still got a long way to go, though.’
Even so, Patrick continued to entertain her blade for a bit longer.
Part of him wanted to just fire off a Flash Dragon Strike the moment they started, knock her unconscious, and be done with it. But if he did that, this leech might cling to him again, begging for another go.
It was better to do it properly once and get it over with.
“Your eyes shouldn't follow your own sword; you need to watch your opponent. Concentrate.”
“Ugh…”
“Being able to do everything you want to do only happens when you’re fighting an amateur. Even if your posture is a bit off, if you think the timing is right, force your sword out.”
“I got… it!”
Taking Patrick’s advice, Isabella immediately corrected herself and lunged at him.
Patrick parried Isabella’s sword as if conducting a guided training session, and without realizing it, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.
‘She listens well. A model student.’
It’s a strange thing when you teach people; no two are ever the same.
There are those like April, who possess such insane talent that if you teach them one thing, they figure out ninety-nine more on their own. On the other hand, there are slow learners like Matthew, whom you have to struggle with, hammering every single detail into their heads.
Sanson wasn't exactly a genius, but he was a bright student who understood if he put in the effort. Oliver actually had better instincts than Sanson, but his physical condition couldn't keep up with his thoughts.
If you teach a hundred people, all hundred will have distinct strengths and weaknesses.
And Isabella was the same.
‘She’s smart. She’s the type with high comprehension rather than raw physical power. The Zhuge Clan had a lot of kids like this.’
In Patrick’s view, the Zhuge Clan’s specialties were petty tricks and miscellaneous skills.
[Our research and understanding of strategy and mechanism arrays, as well as reading the heavenly mandate to gauge the rise and fall of the world…]
‘Whatever, you ugly jerk.’
[You son of a…!]
Patrick cleanly ignored someone’s protest and continued his train of thought.
Regardless, the Zhuge Clan was still a martial family that practiced martial arts.
And occasionally, masters of a level that couldn't be ignored would emerge from the Zhuge Clan.
How did those frail-looking scholars, who looked like they’d never lifted anything heavier than a book, become masters?
Simply put, the masters of the Zhuge Clan were those who used martial arts efficiently.
Four Ounces Moves a Thousand Pounds.
Moving a thousand pounds with the force of four ounces.
It was theoretically possible, but honestly, it was a path entirely different from the one Patrick pursued.
However, the bastards known as the masters of the Zhuge Clan obsessed over that impossibly tricky logic until they achieved a level of proficiency that made it a reality.
What was required for that?
Nothing else.
You had to be smart.
People usually say you need high comprehension to learn martial arts.
Mostly, they say this because it allows for faster progress.
High comprehension means good understanding, and someone with good understanding can grasp denser teachings in a shorter amount of time.
Naturally, their progress is fast.
But those who are smart enough to go even further can add extreme delicacy to their martial arts.
In a fierce battlefield where Sword Qi and Aura fly back and forth to take lives, one needs extraordinary focus to exercise perfect delicacy.
The high-level concentration and cognitive processing power to understand and execute what needs to be done first, even as an opponent’s blade is digging into your neck.
If one can manifest that at a high level, they truly can move a thousand pounds with the force of four ounces.
‘She’s that type too. What a waste.’
Unfortunately, the swordsmanship of this world focused on the logic of Speed, Weight, and Power.
Would it be possible for her to realize the mystery of Four Ounces Moves a Thousand Pounds, which requires combining precise Observation with Softness and Fluidity, on her own?
If Isabella were a grand patriarch on the level of Bodhidharma or Zhang Sanfeng, it might be possible, but otherwise, it was out of the question.
‘I could teach her, but…’
“Why should I?”
“What?”
Patrick didn't respond to Isabella’s question.
Instead, the sword Patrick held against hers began to show a peculiar movement.
Wooooong.
It was a strange sensation, too subtle to be called a vibration.
Patrick’s sword moved at high speed as if vibrating while remaining stuck fast to Isabella’s blade.
That small but rapid vibration traveled up Isabella’s sword, through her wrist, arm, and shoulder, reaching the center of her body.
In that instant, she felt a bizarre sensation.
As if something was digging into her through the sword and interfering with her.
She was horrified by the eerie feeling that her body was slipping out of her own control and into the control of her opponent.
And the moment she tried to force her body to pull back…
“That’s enough.”
With Patrick’s words, her body floated up into the air.
One second, two seconds, three seconds. And then…
Thud!
Having been lifted higher than her own head, she fell straight to the ground.
Patrick looked down at the fallen girl, pointed his sword at her, and said, “Well, the match is over. Are you satisfied now?”
“…How did you do that?”
“Skillfully.”
“…….”
“What? Why? What? Why? Why? Why?”
Seriously, his personality…
In fact, what Patrick had just shown her was the very mystery that could best utilize the talent Isabella possessed.
Because he felt her talent was a waste and found her obedient attitude just a tiiiiny bit cute, he had shown it to her once.
But that was it.
“I’ve given you a spoonful; that’s enough. Do I have to set the table for you for the rest of your life, Senior? I’m not your wife, so why should I?”
“That’s…”
She had nothing to say.
Patrick sheathed his sword and said, “Just think about it carefully before you forget. A swordsman is like the earth; if you plant a seed and tend to it with care, it will eventually sprout.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
‘Though when it sprouts is entirely up to luck.’
He didn't bother saying the last part out loud.
But what could he do?
That’s just how enlightenment works.
Patrick sheathed his sword and said to Isabella, “I’ve given you your spar. Now, seriously, stop following me around.”
“If we just do it one more time…”
“…….”
Meeting Patrick’s cold gaze, Isabella shut her mouth.
Until now, Patrick had always looked at her with annoyance.
To be honest, being looked at like that by a man was a new experience for her, but Patrick was an exception.
But now, the feeling was different.
Feeling a chill as if a blade were pressed against her throat, she couldn't bring herself to open her mouth again.
Patrick said to her, “I hate liars.”
“…….”
“ I’ll assume you’ve understood well enough.”
Having delivered his ultimatum, Patrick turned around and walked away. Honestly, if she had clung to him any further and acted stubborn, he was planning to beat her regardless of her being a princess, but fortunately, she seemed to have at least a minimum amount of tact.
‘Well, if she can digest what I gave her today, in about twenty years, she might be able to manage Four Ounces Moves Ten Pounds.’
Even that would be enough to use in actual combat.
And with that, Patrick turned his back completely.