Chapter 93: I Want Someone Other Than These Greenhorns (2)
Chapter 93: I Want Someone Other Than These Greenhorns (2)
Professor Bricks’ stance was like that of a huddling turtle.
With his shield held firmly in front, he crouched his body as much as possible. His sword was leveled horizontally and pulled back at an angle, poised for a concise, sharp thrust.
Internally, he was relishing this duel.
‘I’ll use this chance to teach him a lesson.’
As a man who had reached the 4-Star level, he found the very sight of the two swords in Patrick’s hands distasteful.
What he taught at the academy was the effective use of the shield. In fact, during his active years, he had been famous as "Iron Wall Jonathan," known for his mastery of the wide kite shield.
To such a man, Patrick’s combat style—fighting with a sword in each hand—was deeply irritating.
‘Dual wielding? What a joke. Today, I’ll show him the true value of shield arts.’
He approached slowly, exerting pressure on Patrick.
His combat style was that of a typical heavy armored knight, using thick armor and a large shield to press the enemy. He was confident he could block any attack, no matter how fierce.
His winning pattern was simple: defend first, then deliver a sharp counter-thrust. He had never been pushed back when fighting a knight of the same realm. Thanks to this, he had been quite renowned among the upper ranks of the Royal Knight Order during his active duty.
‘Come on. Let’s see what you’ve got.’
Watching Jonathan Bricks creep forward, Patrick let out a short laugh.
“You look like a turtle...”
“What did you say?”
“You seem confident in your defense. Fine. Let’s see if you can keep up, shall we?”
“Do your worst—Gah!”
A gasp escaped Professor Bricks’ lips.
Patrick’s form, which had been right in front of him, suddenly blurred. He had lost sight of him.
Then, a low voice drifted from behind.
“Behind you.”
“Urgh!”
He hurriedly spun around, thrusting his shield forward. At that exact moment, a powerful blow slammed into the shield.
CRACK!
A savage sound echoed, one that seemed impossible for a mere collision between a wooden sword and a round shield.
‘W-What... what kind of strength is...’
Professor Bricks was utterly bewildered.
He had completely lost track of Patrick. If the boy hadn’t intentionally spoken to him from behind, his back would have been wide open. The match was essentially over already.
As he struggled to think straight through a cocktail of embarrassment and shame, Patrick spoke again.
“I’m still going.”
Then, Patrick’s twin swords began to rain down on him in a relentless barrage.
“Kh...!”
THWACK! BAM! CRUNCH!
They were just ordinary wooden swords, not even infused with Aura.
Yet, Professor Bricks, who was on the receiving end, could feel it. The weight of every single strike was no joke. His arms were already throbbing; if those had been real swords—or if Patrick had simply added Aura—he would never have been able to block them.
In a real fight, allowing even one of these hits to land would mean broken bones and ruptured organs.
A counterattack? He couldn’t even dream of it.
He focused on moving his shield more intensely than ever before in his life. A sense of crisis gripped him—the feeling that if he missed even one of the two wooden swords pouring down on him, he might actually die.
Then, he heard Patrick’s calm voice.
“You seemed so confident in your defense...”
“...!”
He’s talking?
Bricks was losing his mind just trying to block this suffocating sequence of attacks, yet Patrick was speaking. He was launching this ferocious assault without even a hint of labored breathing?
Was that even possible?
‘Is he a monster?’
What the professor didn’t realize was that Patrick was actually holding back, adjusting his speed just enough so that Bricks could barely manage to block.
Because...
“I’ve had a bad habit for a long time...”
“Kuh...”
BOOM! BANG! CRASH!
The power behind Patrick’s strikes grew steadily stronger.
“Whenever I see something an opponent is confident in, I feel the urge to break it.”
“Kh-aaaaah...!”
THOOM! KABOOM! CRACK-BOOM!
Under the escalating weight of the attacks, Professor Bricks’ body began to sink as if being pressed into the ground. It didn’t feel like he was blocking wooden swords anymore; it felt like he was taking direct hits from a battle hammer wielded by a giant knight.
Then, Patrick said, “Want me to teach you something good?”
He couldn’t block this. No, he was going to die.
“U-Uwaaaaaah!”
Unable to endure any longer, Professor Bricks launched a desperate, frantic counter. He threw his shield open and lunged his sword toward Patrick in a do-or-die thrust.
It wasn’t a calculated counterattack, but Patrick spoke as the blade lunged forward with fierce momentum.
“There is no wall in this world that cannot be breached!”
At that moment, Patrick’s twin swords blurred, splitting into dozens of afterimages.
Gasp...
Professor Bricks was horrified. He had never seen an attack so flamboyant yet so lethal. Even for a man who prided himself on his defense...
‘I can’t block this.’
In that instant, dozens of sword strikes exploded across Professor Bricks’ body, not a single one missing its mark.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
“Gah...!”
The strikes had been calibrated to stop just short of breaking bones. Having been pummeled across his entire body, Professor Bricks collapsed onto the ground.
Patrick glanced down at the fallen professor, rested one wooden sword over his shoulder, and spoke.
“Next.”
At that calm word, the training ground fell into a deathly silence.
‘My god, Professor Bricks was...’
‘To break through his defense so easily.’
‘This makes no sense.’
The other professors were aghast. They had expected Patrick Schneider to be quite skilled. After all, the trouble he’d caused so far wasn't something a talentless person could pull off.
But this...
This defied common sense. He had far exceeded the upper limit of what a first-year academy student should be capable of.
“...”
“...”
In the silence so profound you could hear people swallowing hard, Patrick beckoned toward the professors with his hand.
“Don’t be shy, step right up. I’ll go easy on you.”
“...”
“...”
Looking at Professor Bricks twitching on the ground, they didn't find his words even slightly reassuring.
There is a common expression: "lost for words." It’s used when people witness something so unbelievable that they find themselves with nothing to say.
Just like right now.
Thud.
That was the seventh one.
Professor Ekanor, a 5-Star knight who had risen to the position of aide to the Vice-Captain of the Royal Knight Order during his active years, collapsed to the floor.
With that, seven academy professors had been unilaterally beaten down by a first-year student.
The spectators watched this surreal scene, thinking, ‘How is this even possible?’
At this rate, who was the professor and who was the student?
It was absurd. A position as a Knight Department professor wasn't something won in a poker game; most of them were veteran knights with solid track records in the Royal Knight Order.
And yet, they couldn't handle a first-year who had just entered the academy this year.
Who could have ever imagined this? Even if the world turned upside down, this was beyond imagination.
If the fights had at least looked competitive, it would be one thing. But all seven professors who fell to Patrick were defeated one-sidedly.
They couldn't do a single thing.
Starting with "Iron Wall" Jonathan Bricks...
Benarix of the "Heavy Sword."
Zabrik the "Titan Knight."
Sunaber of the "Storm."
All these men, who had once been famous, had lost.
“Everyone has such grand titles, but your skills don't quite live up to them.”
Patrick’s nonchalant remark dug mercilessly into the pride of the defeated professors.
At this point, they had to admit it. This first-year was stronger than the academy professors. And overwhelmingly so.
“My god, if he’s stronger than 5-Star knights, just how strong is he?”
“It means he’s at least 6-Star. At the very least.”
“6-Star? No matter how you look at it, 6-Star is...”
“He didn’t even use Aura, did he? If he fought seriously...”
“If he fought seriously, then what?”
“Wouldn’t it... be a bit better?”
“Tsk tsk. Do you think a fight between two 5-Star swordsmen would end that easily?”
“...Hmm.”
“Even without using Aura, he practically toyed with them. That’s impossible unless there’s a difference of at least one entire realm.”
“Now that you mention it...”
The spectators watched with their mouths agape.
Currently, the strongest student in the academy was Princess Isabella. Since the fourth and fifth-year students were away on knight training, she, the top student of the third year, was effectively the strongest.
Isabella’s realm was 3-Star.
Yet this first-year was at least a 6-Star...
“Does this make sense? How can someone his age step into the 6-Star realm?”
“Whether it makes sense or not, it’s happening right in front of us.”
“I know, but...”
“Ha... haha... calling him a genius feels like an insult.”
Everyone who had come to verify Patrick’s skill realized it then. This wasn't just a promising talent or a decent prospect.
He was the kind of person who appeared once in an era. A human being who influenced everything around him by his mere existence and eventually changed the age itself.
Usually, when a bit of time is added to the footsteps of such people, it becomes a legend.
Perhaps they were now living witnesses to the first chapter of that legend.
“Next? Anyone?”
Patrick spoke flippantly, tapping his shoulder with his sword, but no one felt he was being arrogant.
Even with the same words and actions, the listener’s impression changes when the status of the speaker changes. Patrick was a master. He was skilled enough for such behavior to be tolerated.
“Th-Then, next, I’ll—”
“Wait, I’ll do it.”
“No, it’s my turn.”
“What do you mean, 'turn'?!”
The professors scrambled to be the next to face Patrick. Rather than being angry at his rudeness, they were driven by a desire to learn a thing or two from a rare master.
Seeing this, Patrick smirked.
‘At least they have the right foundation.’
He would have been disappointed if they had avoided the duel out of concern for their dignity as professors. But instead, the academy professors were competing to step forward.
The higher one’s realm, the more desperately one craves the teachings of a master. This is because the stronger you get, the fewer people there are who are stronger than you.
Furthermore, the Atronia Kingdom was a weak nation with meager knight forces. Masters were bound to be scarce.
But now, right before their eyes, was a clear master.
What was Patrick’s true realm? Where did he get such power?
Those questions could wait. For them, the only thing that mattered was the desperate urge to feel that monster’s strength for themselves.
“I will do it.”
The man who stepped forward, pushing the other professors aside, carried a halberd with an unnaturally large blade.
“Professor Baroque.”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, I don’t have a problem. But...”
Marox Baroque.
A man with the somewhat storied epithet "The Crusher." He was a bit clumsy at teaching students, but his personal skill was undeniable.
Among the academy professors, perhaps only Professor Late could definitively defeat him.
And now, he had stepped up to face Patrick.