With a single strike. Everyone fell silent. Not only Billy's subordinates, but even Red's men, who were on Patrick's side, all went quiet.
'What is that monster?' 'I heard he was the helper the Master brought...'
'That kid?'
'He's no kid, is he? Just now... what he just did...' The large man Patrick had just cut down, despite appearances, was a swordsman ranked within the top ten of the thieves' guild.
Such a man had died without being able to do a thing, without even knowing how he died. Flustered at the sight, Billy spoke.
"Ki... No, who are you?"
"Me? Patrick."
"Who's that?"
"You don't know? You don't know me? Really?"
Billy replied irritably to Patrick's question.
"Dammit, how is this one supposed to know an impertinent brat like you?"
"Hmm. I see. So that's how it is."
Patrick nodded and glanced back at Red. That pretty-faced fellow had figured out what he had been doing since entering the city and where he came from the moment he heard his name. It meant he was diligently fulfilling his role as an informant.
Compared to him, that bald man who looked like a snake couldn't figure out who he was even when told his name. He didn't know who had recently been moving large sums of money in the city he lived in.
"You're lazy."
"What did you say?"
"Were you always lazy? Or did you get lazy as your belly filled with grease?"
"Wha.. What? This brat..."
"Anyway, you're disqualified. He's better, as expected."
What Patrick needed was someone who could quickly and accurately gather information from the outside and deliver it to him. He had weighed Red and Billy for a moment, but the scales tipped overwhelmingly in Red's favor.
Therefore...
"You can die."
The moment he said that, Patrick's body vanished.
"Gasp!"
Billy was startled. The kid who had suddenly disappeared from before his eyes had reappeared in front of him. And he was there to take his head.
"Farewell."
Patrick's sword swung towards Billy's neck, and Billy was completely unable to react.
But... Kaang!
"Huh?"
Patrick was taken aback. For the first time since being born in this world, someone had blocked his attack. Of course, that person was not some small fry named Billy.
The person who blocked Patrick's strike was one of the five mercenaries waiting behind Billy. One of them had held out a round shield to block Patrick's attack. That wasn't even the end of it.
Shiiik!
The broadsword held in his other hand thrust at Patrick's face with a rather sharp momentum. Patrick lightly moved his head to dodge the attack and tried to swing his other sword, but before he could, his opponent forcefully pushed him away with the shield.
"Haaat!"
Patrick didn't resist the heavy push, instead smoothly receiving the force and flying backward. After landing lightly, he watched with slightly surprised eyes. 'Hoo, not bad.'
He blocked my attack and even counterattacked. And the motion of pushing me with the shield wasn't just guesswork; it had proper form and discipline.
"Brother! Are you alright?"
"Be careful. He's no ordinary brat."
"Yes, brother!"
"Tight formation, shields forward!"
"Yes, sir!"
The mercenary who blocked Patrick's attack took a stance facing him with a tense expression. And at his command, his subordinates lined up in a row to his left and right. As the five mercenaries blocked the narrow second-floor hallway in a tight formation, a human wall was instantly formed.
"Ah, I see. So that's why."
Patrick nodded as if he understood something upon seeing the mercenaries' formation. Heavy armor made of steel plates supposedly to protect vital points, and shields that martial artists of the martial world found too cumbersome to use. I wondered how they could fight armed with such things, but seeing them line up to form a wall, I understood.
They stick close together to eliminate openings on their flanks and use their shields in front to face the enemy. 'It's a rational method in its own way. Seen like this, shields aren't so bad.'
In truth, Patrick had never seen a truly skilled person since coming to this world. Brian, who strutted around the fief as a two-star knight, was just a scrub. Red, the Master of the thieves' guild, was decent, but by Patrick's standards, he was just a youngster.
Crucially, he hadn't really faced him as an enemy either.
But now.
Before Patrick's eyes were enemies holding their ground with a heavy, rock-like stance. Patrick spoke to those who were glaring at him from within their solid formation.
"Not bad. What's your name?"
In response to the question, the opponent bared his teeth and growled fiercely.
"You're an ill-mannered brat. This one is Georges, the survivor of Andemion."
"What? You are?"
Patrick made a greatly surprised face. At that, the opponent who had revealed his name gave a sly smile and was about to speak to Patrick when...
"But what is that?"
"Pfft!"
"Heh..."
For a moment, laughter unfitting for the tense situation burst out. Georges gritted his teeth and said.
"Didn't you know?"
"Of course I don't." "Then why did you pretend to know?"
"Guys like you seem to like it when I do that. 'Ah, I'm this famous. Even kids like that know me.' Didn't you feel that sense of pride? Be honest."
"..."
Georges' face turned extremely red. He had probably hit the nail on the head. He ground his teeth and said.
"You insolent little shit."
"You insolent adult shit."
"You won't lose a single word."
"You get beaten in every single word."
He couldn't win with words. Absolutely couldn't win. Georges gritted his teeth and gripped his sword and shield tightly.
"I'll catch you alive and skin you."
"Oh, how scary. A grown adult sulking..."
Patrick smirked and got into a fighting stance. Unlike the relaxed Patrick, Red, who was watching the situation, bit his lip tightly. 'A survivor of Andemion... that means that guy is the real deal.
How did that bastard Billy hire someone like that?' Andemion was the capital of the recently fallen Kreuz Kingdom. Or rather, should I say it was the former capital?
The capital of the Kreuz Kingdom, whose fate was sealed by war, was besieged, and its king held a siege defense, leaning on the capital's walls until the very, very end. The duration was a whopping ten years. In other words, they had fought a defensive siege for ten years with only the capital remaining.
They held on desperately, but in the end, the final moment arrived. With not a single arrow or grain of wheat left, they eventually burned the capital, and the remaining soldiers went out to fight the enemy and meet their end. A symbol of the most desperate and tragic war fought on the continent in recent times.
That was Andemion. If he survived that place, it meant that the mercenary named Georges was the real deal, on a different level from the riffraff. Red also knew that Patrick was a monster.
He knew, but... 'His opponent is no pushover either.' Red watched the duel with tense eyes.
"You're pretty good. Even if I threw you into the martial world, you'd be treated as a fairly useful wandering warrior."
"What nonsense are you spouting?"
"Yeah. Just talking to myself. More importantly, are you ready?"
"Come at me if you dare."
Seeing the enemy's gallant cry, Patrick smirked. Then, he tapped the floor with the balls of his feet and said.
"I'm really coming this time."
"Come."
"Going. Really going. I'm coming in."
"..."
"... Wordplay... Kugh!"
"Kuaaak!"
"Keoheok..."
CLAAANG!
It was instantaneous. The moment Patrick vanished, a streak of light crashed into the wall formed by the five sturdy mercenaries. Twin Dragon Eight Sword Forms Third Form Flash Dragon Strike It was the technique Patrick had most favored since his previous life.
A frontal assault that converts its sheer speed into destructive power to annihilate the enemy before him. No matter how solid the defense, the number of defenses he couldn't break with this in his past life could be counted on one hand. 'It's been a while since I used it...'
Patrick frowned.
Georges, who had blocked the Flash Dragon Strike head-on, was sent flying backward as his shield shattered into pieces. His subordinates also collapsed from the shockwave. But that was it.
No one had died; they were all alive. If it had been the Flash Dragon Strike used by Radiant Dragon Grandmaster Jin Cheon in his past life, these youngsters' survival would be out of the question; it would be doubtful if their corpses would even remain intact. 'I'm still far from it.
A long way to go.' Patrick realized he still had a long way to go to regain the martial prowess of his past life.
Ughhhh... Ugh...?
"..."
The fallen Georges belatedly came to his senses. He tried to get up and assume his stance again. If you were alive, you had to fight.
That was the way of a mercenary...
"Ugh..."
As he tried to push himself up from the floor, a sudden, sharp pain in his arm sent him rolling on the floor again. The arm that had been holding the shield was broken and dangling.
"..."
"... A monster."
Only then did he realize. To call him strong was an understatement. He was a being of a different caliber.
It was just a single strike, but he could clearly feel the presence of despair. Georges stared blankly at his broken arm, and Patrick spoke to him with a look of pity.
"What are you doing?"
"..."
"You need to get up again."
A chill ran down his spine, and goosebumps covered his entire body. There was no chance of victory. Once he realized that fact, there was only one option left.
He hurriedly shouted to his subordinates.
"Everyone, scatter and run..."
Swish! Swish!
The moment the word 'run' left his mouth, several streaks of light flashed across his fallen subordinates. And after the flashes passed, his subordinates' heads were slowly severed and fell to the floor. Blood spurted from the fallen bodies, and Patrick was now standing right in front of him.
Patrick looked at the terrified man with an indifferent expression and spoke.
"Kid."
"Uh... ugh..."
"You're unlucky."
"Uwaaaaaaah!"
The broadsword was swung in a desperate struggle. But Patrick's sword sent his head flying first.
"Pant.. pant.. pant..."
Billy ran.
He just ran and ran without looking back. 'I have to bolt. I have to run far away.
Or else I'll die.' He knew this feeling. A long, long time ago.
Back when he was a petty thug, he'd once been caught trying to pickpocket a big shot.
[You're insane. To dare to aim for my wallet.]
[S-sa... save... please save me. I didn't dare recognize the young master...]
He was a real big shot. Power, wealth, and even personal martial might. A person who was overwhelming in every aspect.
Just making eye contact with that person made it hard for Billy to breathe. I'm going to die. I'm really going to die.
This is the end. Billy felt death more strongly than at any other time in his life. But back then...
[Brother, he's pitiful, so please let him go.]
[If you say so... get lost.]
Billy bowed his head in thanks, begging and begging again as he left. He had barely managed to survive thanks to the pity of someone who felt sorry for him. But Billy would never forget those few tens of seconds when he had kowtowed and begged for his life from that man.
The feeling of being judged by an overwhelmingly strong person. The feeling of being crushed like an insect. That feeling from back then...
'To think I'd feel it again.' Georges and his men, hired for a large sum of money, were all dead. And at the hands of a little shit who still had peach fuzz on his face.
No, could you even call him a little shit? He was a monster. He was the sprout of a great figure whose name and face everyone on the continent might one day know.
"Why did a bastard like that have to appear before me!?"
Billy shouted as he ran and ran. I have to leave the city like this, go somewhere else, get settled, and somehow make a comeback...
"Yo, you run well."
"Uwaaaaaaah!"
Billy panicked and let out a scream at the voice that came from right beside him. His feet got tangled, and he fell, scraping his face all over the floor. Patrick smirked at Billy and said.
"Guys like you may be dumb, but you're quick-witted. But what to do? I don't let quick-witted bad guys go."
Patrick held a sword in each hand and slowly approached the fallen Billy. Seeing this, Billy's teeth chattered as his whole body trembled.
"..."
Patrick approached Billy and said coldly.
"Do you want to leave any last words?"
"S... s... save me, please."
"Yeah. No." "Ughhh..."
Ughhh.
"Nothing more to say? Then let's die now."
Patrick raised the sword in his right hand. The slow upward movement of the sword felt as terrifying to Billy as the god of death raising his scythe. He threw away all his pride and prostrated himself, begging profusely.
"Please save me. If you just let me live, I'll live a good life. I'll live while giving to others."
"I told you to leave last words, and you're spouting such bullshit..."
"I'm begging you. If you spare my life, I'll give you my entire fortune. Please, let me live."
Billy knew.
That for big shots like this, money wasn't that important. Still, it was something he said while spouting anything he could to survive. There was no way that monster would spare him just for money...
"Oh? Really? You'll give me your entire fortune?"
"..."
Did it work?