"Young Lady, please wait a moment."
A young nobleman approached her with urgent steps. Marianne spoke to him with a smiling face.
"I'm tired and would like to rest now. If you don't mind, perhaps another time..."
"I said it'll only take a moment!"
At the man's shout, Marianne wore a dazed expression. She had never encountered someone who would commit such a rudeness to her, especially at a banquet. The situation was so unexpected that her body froze more from bewilderment than anger.
Not missing the opening, the man abruptly grabbed Marianne's hand and pulled.
"It will only take a moment."
"Hey... you. Hey!"
As he tried to drag her away by force, she finally shouted. And as his daughter's sharp voice rang out, a voice full of fury echoed it.
"You wretched fiend!"
Count Parmas shouted, his body trembling with rage. How dare he try to drag his daughter away by force, right in front of him? Count Parmas, furious to the tips of his hair, yelled.
"Knight Order! Drag that rude bastard out. No, throw him in the underground prison."
"Yes, my lord!"
As soon as their lord's command was given, armored knights swiftly ran to seize the ruffian.
"Let go of her hand."
"If you don't let go, you will regret it."
The knights tried to subdue him with words first. But that was their mistake.
"Do not interfere!"
The man shouted in a furious voice and charged at the knights. At first, the knights wore expressions of scorn, but...
Kwang!
"Keoheok..."
The moment one knight was struck by the fist, he coughed up blood and was sent flying backward. And the man, still holding Marianne's wrist with one hand, looked at another knight.
"Don't... I said don't interfere!"
And on the man's fist, swung again, a black aura had formed.
"Keuk...?"
Kwaaang!
That knight quickly raised his shield to block the fist. But despite blocking the attack, he was forced to slide backward. A clear fist print was stamped on the shield that had blocked the attack.
"Interfere... Heueueu... Hehehehe... Do not interfere... Hehehe, I... I am..."
"What? You... what are you?"
Only then did Marianne realize it. The condition of this man holding her wrist was not normal. The veins all over his body stood out grotesquely in a purple hue, and his eyes had turned a bloody red.
And above all, his mental state was not normal. At first, he had seemed somewhat normal, but now he was no different from a madman.
"Let go... Aaaack!"
She tried to pull her wrist away and escape, but he grabbed Marianne's wrist even tighter. In that moment, she screamed from the pain, as if her wrist was breaking. The man saw the pained Marianne and spoke with a crazed smile.
"Mine. You... you are mine..."
"This... this bastard..."
Even amidst the pain that felt like her wrist would break, Marianne glared at him with a venomous gaze. Her noble pride, which would not yield to mere physical pain, was worthy of high praise. But that gaze instead stimulated the man's madness.
"Me... hehehe... you don't like me? Me... hehehe... Hahahahaha!"
The man pulled Marianne closer, now gripping her with both hands. Then, he brought his face right up to hers and spoke.
"No. You... are mine. Haa... haa... haaa... Because you are mine... hahaha..."
"This crazy bastard..."
It was an exceptionally accurate observation. At that moment, Count Parmas, who was watching the scene, shouted.
"What are you all doing? Subdue that bastard immediately, no, you have my permission to kill him. Save my daughter."
At the Count's order, a few more knights charged in.
However...
"Do not interfeeeeere! I said don't interfere!"
The knights could not approach recklessly due to the man's swinging fists and rampage.
"..."
"That damned bastard..."
The power he emitted was too formidable to simply subdue, and they couldn't attack with their full strength for fear of harming their lord's daughter beside him. In this frustrating situation, the Count shouted with utmost rage.
"What are you doing? Hurry up and save her!"
The knights did their best, but the situation hardly improved. The Count, out of frustration, looked around and shouted.
"Anyone will do. I will grant a great reward to whoever defeats that madman and saves my daughter!"
The moment those words were spoken... The people saw. No, in fact, they did not see.
What they saw was just a single, flashing streak of light.
Kwaaang!
A loud roar was heard a little later than the flash. After that, what people saw clearly was...
"You fiend! How dare you threaten the Count's daughter. I, Patrick Schneider, will not forgive you."
The sight of a ruffian with one arm severed, sent flying into a wall, and a young man who had rescued the Count's daughter shouting confidently. Baron Schneider, seeing this sight, touched his forehead with his hand and said. 'Didn't we agree not to stand out, you brat...
This child truly doesn't do as he's told.'
It was almost on the level of a conditioned reflex. The moment the word 'reward' came from the Count's mouth, Patrick was already running. And he swung a steak knife to cut off the ruffian's arm, rescued the precious money... no, the Count's daughter, and then kicked the ruffian, sending him flying.
Then he shouted in a loud voice.
"You fiend! How dare you threaten the Count's daughter. I, Patrick Schneider, will not forgive you."
At that scene, everyone fell silent.
"Good heavens, just now..."
"What did I just see? No, did you even see anything?"
"No, just a flash and nothing more..."
"Is it magic? Is he a wizard?"
Amidst the murmuring people, Patrick acted confidently. He very carefully set Marianne down, and then...
"Are you alright, Young Lady?"
"Ah... ah... yes."
"It is a relief that you are not hurt. Please rest assured now. I, Patrick Schneider, will protect you without fail."
From Patrick's extremely polite and careful attitude, Marianne felt a genuine heart. The man before her now was treating her as someone truly precious. She could feel that he wasn't just mesmerized by her beauty or seeing her as a tool for advancement, but was genuinely cherishing her.
'A reward, and a great one at that, he said?
Kehehehehe...
I wonder how much he'll give?' Of course, Patrick was being sincere.
'Kehehehehehehehehe.'
Very sincere indeed.
"Keeeeu... Mine... She's mine! Marianne, you are miiiiine!"
The man who had been sent flying into the wall by Patrick screamed monstrously, staggered to his feet, and charged again. At this sight, Marianne flinched. The moment she directly faced the madness aimed at her, even she, with her strong will, was frightened.
But a reliable back appeared before her.
"You're spouting nonsense."
Patrick smiled coldly. He hadn't thought the man would die from that in the first place. He had controlled his strength so as not to kill him, and above all, if what he was thinking was correct, the man wouldn't die easily.
"Well, good. I had something I needed to find out from you anyway."
Patrick rushed towards the charging opponent first.
And then... Bbeoeoook!
The man's jaw was cleanly twisted by the punch that swung straight at him. It went beyond his head snapping back; his jaw joint was cleanly dislocated.
"Geugeo-eo-eo!"
It was a pain that would make an ordinary person writhe and roll on the ground, but the opponent paid it no mind and charged, screaming monstrously. But Patrick, as if he had been waiting, grabbed both of the opponent's shoulders. Then, with an indifferent touch, he skillfully pressed on the joint areas.
And then... Dduduk! Ttuk!
A skilled dislocation technique. It was a technique to dislocate a joint by infusing acupressure and inner energy into it, without any need for complex twisting or bending. Its disadvantage was that it could only be used when there was a considerable difference in skill, but there was no better technique for subduing an opponent.
The man, whose shoulders were dislocated, had his arms hang limply.
"No matter how much you can't feel pain, you can't move if your joints are dislocated."
"Kehahaaaang!"
The man let out a monstrous scream at Patrick's words, opened his mouth wide, and tried to bite Patrick's neck. He was an opponent who showed terrifying tenacity despite having a dislocated jaw.
However... Jjeoeoeok!
The difference in skill between him and Patrick was too great to be overcome by tenacity or grit. Patrick, who had kicked the opponent into the air, clenched both his fists.
"I won't kill you. Instead..."
A cruel smile hung on Patrick's lips.
"I'll finely crush every bone in your body."
And Patrick's countless fists exploded upon the opponent floating in mid-air. Infinite Hell Chain Fist (Abbreviated) -You Cannot Die.- Papapapapapapapapapapapapapapa-papak!
"Woah... woaaah..."
"Uwaaa..."
"Wowwww..."
Nothing but exclamations of awe came out. So a person could be beaten like that. So a person could take a beating like that.
Everyone present saw it. The strange sight of the ruffian, suspended in the air, continuously being beaten without even being able to scream. And so, after about 5 seconds of pulverizing.
"Hap!"
With a finishing blow, the ruffian was sent flying once more into the wall he had been slammed into just before. Then, he just twitched on the spot, letting out incomprehensible groans from his mouth.
"Grrrr... Heueu..."
And Patrick withdrew his hands and spoke gravely.
"In front of me, Patrick Schneider, atrocious evil deeds cannot be forgiven."
In the silent crowd, only one person spoke coldly.
"What a load of crap."
'Father. Cooome on...'
Baron Schneider stared intently at his son. And Patrick, receiving his father's heated gaze, simply turned his head and whistled. At this sight, Baron Schneider, his anger flaring, ground his teeth and spoke.
"Didn't we agree to be quiet?"
"Wasn't the plan to stay quiet, not stand out, just keep our seats and then go home?"
"Well, the situation was a bit..."
"The moment you heard the word 'reward,' your eyes flipped and you charged out? And you call that quietly keeping your seat."
"Hahaha. One must save a person's life, shouldn't they?"
"Oh, so you have no greed for money? I'll just tell the Count that you don't need the reward..."
"Are you crazy, Father?"
"This rotten..."
The squabble of the father and son in another's house came to a temporary halt due to Count Parmas entering the study.
"My apologies for making you wait."
"Not at all, my lord Count."
"Please, sit. Young Patrick, you sit as well."
"Yes. Understood."
The Count, sitting across the table from the father and son, stared at Patrick and spoke.
"Young Patrick. How old are you?"
"I am fifteen this year."
"Not even an adult yet."
Count Parmas looked at Patrick with an expression of astonishment. The martial prowess Patrick displayed at this banquet was no ordinary thing. He was so fast that few could see it properly, but he had subdued the ruffian the knights were struggling with in an instant.
For a person with such power to be a mere fifteen years old. 'Is he a genius?' As one lives in the world, humans who show a pace of development that defies common sense do appear from time to time.
The kind of people who, to others, seem so unfairly talented it feels like cheating just to watch them. In this eastern territory, there had been no talent for a long time.
The most prominent talent to appear recently was his own pretty and beautiful daughter, who was showing excellent results in the academy's Department of Public Administration, but looking at the other young people of the eastern territory, they were so pathetic it made one sigh automatically.
And yet...
'So, was his rude attitude, and the light and crass side he showed later, all just an expression of his confidence?' Geniuses often show behavior that deviates from common sense or etiquette. The norms and formalities created by the standards of ordinary people are too stifling for geniuses.
'Not bad.
No, rather, it's excellent.' At first, I thought he was a spirited young man. Then, I thought he was a rude and crass brat who only cared about money.
And now, having confirmed his skill, Count Parmas felt he had finally learned Patrick's true nature. Well, that is to say, that is what he himself was thinking.
"You must be pleased to have such an excellent son, Baron Schneider."
"... Yes."
It was Baron Schneider, answering with a voice that sounded like it was being forcibly squeezed out, his expression one of great injustice. An excellent son?
Yes.
It's true he is excellent. In just five years, he stabilized the barren and dangerous Schneider Fief, greatly raised the people's standard of living, and trained the soldiers into a strong army. So it is true that he is excellent, but...