"What kind of knight resorts to such a petty trick in a duel?"
"Indeed. If you lack the skill, you should know how to accept it."
"Tsk, tsk. To think a man like that is a knight commander. The level of House Balson's knight order is obvious."
Viscount Balson's entire body trembled with rage. These barbaric and ignorant country bumpkins from the eastern territory dared to insult him, a man from the central region. Worthless country bumpkins he didn't even know existed when he was in the central region.
As he felt he was about to lose his mind to blinding rage, a single person approached him. That person was...
"Our soldier went a little too far. I apologize, Viscount Balson."
"Baron Schneider."
"Regardless of the duel's outcome, Sir Miranda was an excellent knight. Please ensure he is treated well so that he may return to his duties."
"Th... this..."
Viscount Balson's body shivered in anger. This was a pretense.
Hypocrisy.
He was mocking him, saying 'serves you right' for appointing a man who couldn't even defeat one of his soldiers as a knight commander. The other country bumpkins from the east might be thoughtless, but this man called Baron Schneider was surely a highly wicked politician with ten serpents coiled in his heart.
That's why he was putting on this show of benevolence, feigning concern for his knight in front of everyone, wasn't it?
"So you're saying it serves me right?"
"... Pardon?"
"Cut the useless pretense. Do you take me for an idiot?"
"... Pardon?"
Viscount Balson's reason snapped at the sight of Baron Schneider's genuinely bewildered expression.
"How arrogant for a mere Baron. Do you think you can mock me with your cunning tricks and get away with it?"
"I apologize, Viscount, but I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Silence! You cunning fiend. I still have connections in the Central Government. If I put my mind to it, I could bury someone like you in noble society... Gweeeh!"
At that moment, Viscount Balson saw it. Something flashed and flew toward him. The next thing he felt was the impact of a fist smashing into his face.
And...
"What's that? You goblin-sized piece of shit..."
"You wanna die? Huh?"
Viscount Balson lost consciousness while hearing some hoodlum's threat.
Returning after handling his business, Patrick was greeted by a familiar, yet blood-pressure-raising, sight. Some unlucky bastard was shouting and railing at Baron Schneider.
"How arrogant for a mere Baron. Do you think you can mock me with your cunning tricks and get away with it?"
'That... son... of a... bitch!' He dared to insult his father. And his father was just taking it one-sidedly with a look of complete confusion.
The situation brought back a deeply filthy and unpleasant memory from Patrick's mind.
[Ahem, the Martial Alliance has truly fallen. To think they'd invite the leader of some third-rate sect I've never even heard of to a meeting.]
[Hahaha. I am simply grateful to have been given a seat despite my inadequacies.]
[It's a relief you know your place. I would be most grateful if you would just leave, you know?]
[Hahahahaha.]
It was something an elder from Qingcheng or Kunlun had blathered on about during a strategy meeting of the key figures of the Martial Alliance. Truthfully, he couldn't remember exactly where the man was from. It was one of those places considered riff-raff even within the Nine Great Sects, and their images tended to blur together.
But when his Master bowed his head and just laughed it off at the bastard's provocation...
[You little shit, you wanna die!?]
Radiant Dragon Grandmaster Jin Cheon had instantly transformed into a Mad Dragon, grabbed the so-called elder by the scruff of his neck, and driven a fist into him. The location being the Martial Alliance's meeting hall and the man's position as an elder of the Nine Great Sects meant nothing to Patrick.
What kind of Mad Dragon would he be if he cared about time and place? That part of Patrick's personality...
"Who are you? Who the hell are you to make me recall dirty memories after so long and piss me off? Huh? Who are you?" ...exploded once again, transcending worlds.
"Um, young master..."
Sanson cautiously approached the furious Patrick and spoke.
"Did you just beat him up without knowing who he is?"
"Yeah."
So what?
Is that a problem? Seeing the emotion written all over Patrick's face, Sanson let out a sigh. What on earth was he supposed to do with this man?
Meanwhile, Patrick was grabbing the collapsed Viscount Balson by the collar, about to hit him again.
"Hey, stop him."
"Young master, please calm down."
"Just listen to us first."
"Aaargh! Hold him tight."
Watching Patrick drag dozens of soldiers along as he moved forward, the surrounding nobles wore expressions of sheer horror. There before them was a raw madness they had never once encountered in their lives.
"Patrick Schneider!"
"What!?... sir."
Patrick, who was about to retort sharply, shut his mouth.
Because...
"You wretched son! You just had to cause trouble. You just had to." ...
Baron Schneider was standing there, thoroughly enraged.
"No, Father, it's not that... You saw it, didn't you? This... uh... Hey, what's his name?"
"Viscount Balson, sir."
"Balson or whatever, he was being a disrespectful little..."
"Silence!"
A short while later. After the situation had calmed down, Baron Schneider offered a polite apology to the surrounding nobles.
"My apologies. My son has caused a disturbance in front of you esteemed nobles."
As he apologized, the Baron pressed down on Patrick's head, forcing him to bow along with him.
"Hey, what did I do wrong..."
Of course, Patrick was grumbling under his breath, but he didn't push away his father's hand from the back of his head. Count Parmas spoke to Baron Schneider.
"That's enough, Baron."
"My Lord Count."
"It was Viscount Balson who refused to accept his defeat in the duel and insulted you first. If you consider this the price for that, it's a light... hmm, well, it should be fine."
He was beaten and knocked unconscious in front of all the Eastern nobles, not by another noble, but by a young master of a noble house, and then dragged around. This was a story that would be told and retold among the Eastern nobles for a long time.
Before he could even talk about honor, Viscount Balson, whose minimal dignity had been thrown into the gutter, would henceforth be reduced to an object of ridicule among the Eastern nobles. 'But the important thing isn't some Viscount Balson.' Count Parmas turned to Baron Schneider and said.
"No one will doubt the soldiers of the House of the Baron any longer. And of course, no one will doubt the merits your family has achieved."
"You praise me too highly."
"Hahaha. You're too humble."
At that moment, Patrick, who was standing beside them, spoke.
"I came in the middle of it so I don't know what's going on, but can you tell me what happened?"
"Can't you just keep your mouth shut?"
"Nooooooope."
Wow, he's my son, but he's so obnoxious. Patrick wore an expression that made even the virtuous Baron Schneider's fists itch. Just then, Count Parmas spoke with a wry smile.
"I will explain what happened. First..."
And so, Count Parmas explained to Patrick what had occurred at the conferment of rewards.
"So, they doubted the merits our soldiers achieved and argued it was unfair for us to receive rewards?"
"That's right."
"So you had them spar with knights to prove the soldiers' skills."
"We did. And they won."
Having grasped the situation, Patrick spoke nonchalantly.
"Why did you handle things in such a complicated way?"
"Hmm?"
"Why did you have to twist and turn a problem that could have been solved simply? That's what I'm saying."
"Simply? How so?"
"Haaah... Sanson."
"Yes, young master."
"Draw them all."
At Patrick's words, Sanson stood blankly for a moment before realizing his meaning and drawing the longswords in both his hands.
And then... Wooooong...
A distinct aura began to ripple from his blades. And that was just the beginning.
Clang! Chwaang! Chwang!
From all around, the soldiers of the Schneider Fief drew the twin swords in their hands.
And then...
"Ooh..."
"Huuuk..."
"Is... is this for real?"
The Eastern nobles were stunned. On the twin swords of all 100 soldiers, aura had formed. Amidst that grand spectacle, Patrick spoke.
"This should be enough for their skills, and as for our merits..."
Patrick then brought something forward and presented it to the Count. Wrapped in a cloth, it was a human head.
"I believe this will suffice."
"Young Lord Patrick. This couldn't be..."
"It is the head of the black mage."
"Did you do this?"
"He was escaping alone, so I found him and killed him. This should be enough for the family's merit, don't you think?"
"Is it perhaps insufficient?"
There was no way it could be. At that moment, the House of Baron Schneider became the family that had achieved the greatest merit in this subjugation war.
"Uhehehehehehehe..."
Patrick laughed.
Unable to contain the deep joy welling up from within, he couldn't stop smiling.
"Uhehehe. The Count is truly something else. So decisive."
The House of Baron Schneider received a greater reward than anyone else in this subjugation. A ten-year tax exemption. A reward of 200 gold.
A mithril ingot and 50 fine horses. And the promise to formally report the barony's merits to the central government and recommend a promotion in rank. Taking the head of a black mage was that great of an achievement.
On top of that, Count Parmas promised a separate reward for Patrick having saved his daughter. In truth, Patrick should have been punished for caving in Viscount Balson's face, but...
[Viscount Balson insulted Baron Schneider first. Patrick Schneider's attack was in defense of his insulted father, so the matter will not be pursued.]
With that one statement from Count Parmas, the matter was quietly dropped.
Objections?
There were none. In the first place, none of the Eastern nobles would have admonished the House of Schneider for this incident. The fact that Viscount Balson was unpopular in the eastern territory played a part, but more than that, it was because the power of House Schneider had been revealed.
The moment all 100 soldiers unleashed their aura. The House of Schneider was no longer a simple barony. It had become a powerhouse that, should it choose, could single-handedly swallow up two or three neighboring fiefs with ease.
Even if they found Patrick's actions excessive and disagreeable, now that they knew the power of House Schneider, they could not carelessly pick a fight. On the contrary, most of the Eastern nobles began to approach Baron Schneider with a friendly attitude, and in the end, they all agreed when Count Parmas bestowed the exceptional rewards upon him.
Therefore...
"Uhehehehehe, ihihihihihi. Mwahahahaha."
It was only natural that the corners of Patrick's mouth were turned up and wouldn't come down. Though it also seemed he had lost his mind a little.
"Kuhuhu, I was just thinking I needed some money to start a new business. This is great, just great."
Seeing the gleeful Patrick, Sanson spoke.
"Young master. This is not the time to be so happy."
"What are you talking about? We've hit a jackpot."
"Are you asking because you don't know?"
"I'm asking because I don't know. Why would I ask if I knew? Am I an idiot?"
Sanson's face crumpled completely. He ground his teeth and spoke to Patrick.
"Recently, other nobles have been approaching our soldiers."
"Hmm? Oh, right. I see."
"It seems they are offering quite good terms. Promises of knighthood, high pay, and even armor and horses, from what I hear."
"Hoh, then you must have been offered even better terms, Sanson. How much did they offer?"
"Young master!"
Sanson shouted at Patrick's words. Indeed, several nobles had proposed that Sanson become a knight in their fiefs. On terms far better than those offered to the other soldiers.
Some had promised him the position of knight commander, and there was even an offer to marry him to a daughter and make him a member of a noble family. But Sanson refused them all.
[I am a vassal of Baron Schneider. Even if you offered me the national budget, my loyalty would not change.]
The other nobles expressed their regret toward Sanson, who had so proudly refused. But they did not give up. They continued to extend generous offers to the other soldiers, trying to recruit them to their own fiefs.
For Sanson, it was a matter that made his blood boil.