“What? What’s with him all of a sudden?”
“What is going on?”
Sanson had been completely revived. From the 80th opponent onward, Sanson’s sword had become even sharper, and now he was beginning to defeat the soldiers with overwhelming skill. Watching the spectacle, Patrick spoke.
“Next, Naid! Begin immediately!”
“Yes? Yes!”
The moment the command was given, Sanson charged forward first. It was as if he was trying to burst something he had been holding back. Victory after victory, and then another victory.
After the 80th opponent, Sanson continued to defeat every challenger who came up. As his wins piled up, Sanson finally…
“Hap!”
“Ugh…”
He knocked away his 99th opponent’s wooden sword and brought his own to the man’s neck. Then he shouted loudly.
“Next!”
There was no longer any sign of exhaustion. Instead, he was filled with so much vitality it was as if he couldn’t stand still, his body itching for a fight.
‘I can do it. As I am now, I can take on anyone.’
Drunk on confidence, Sanson felt invincible in that moment.
And then…
“I will be your 100th opponent.”
“Anyone… huh?”
Sanson’s expression changed subtly. He had thought he could confidently face anyone. He had thought that, but…
“This isn’t right, is it?”
“What do you mean, not right?”
In front of Sanson stood Patrick, who had stepped onto the training grounds holding a wooden sword in each hand. Patrick then spoke with a cold expression.
“We start now.”
“Star… Kugh!”
Clack!
In an instant, Patrick’s body blurred. In that moment, Sanson instinctively raised the swords in both hands into a defensive stance. As a result, he was able to block Patrick’s sword.
But…
“Balance yourself with your lower body and relax the strength in your upper body. The natural form you worked so hard to create is collapsing.”
“What… Uuugh…”
He was being pushed back by the pressure of the opposing sword. Patrick’s build was still smaller than Sanson’s, yet Sanson was being easily overpowered in strength. After pushing Sanson back with his sword to disrupt his balance, Patrick’s wooden swords flew toward Sanson’s entire body.
Clatter! Thwack! Smack!
Crack!
He blocked some, and took others with his body. Had they been real swords, it was an attack that would have killed him several times over.
“Focus your mind. You’re not spacing out, you’re concentrating.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If you can’t realize it…?”
Patrick, having closed the distance into Sanson’s personal space, continued coldly.
“You die.”
With those words, Patrick’s swords multiplied into dozens, flying toward all the vital points on Sanson’s body.
“Aaaaaaaah!”
Sanson also swung his wooden swords rapidly to counter. In an instant, the space between them filled with wooden swords as they exchanged blows. Slashing, thrusting, pulling, pushing.
How many exchanges were taking place in such a short space and time? The soldiers could only watch the scene with their mouths agape. The only one here who properly understood the meaning of this exchange was April.
‘Is he guiding him?’
April could see it clearly. Patrick was precisely controlling Sanson, pushing him to his absolute limit. No, that wasn’t just the limit, but a sword demanding something beyond it.
It was a sword filled with killing intent, conveying the will that if he failed to keep up and fell behind, he could die. A little more. A little more, a little more…
Sanson was wringing out his very soul to answer Patrick’s sword, which constantly demanded more than his limit.
But… Claaack!
Even if you squeeze it like wringing water from sand. Even if you burn your soul and surpass your own limits. Eventually, the end must come.
An upward strike from Patrick sent both of Sanson’s hands flying high into the air. And Patrick’s next attack was prepared, aimed at his perfectly exposed torso.
“It’s over.”
In that brief moment, Sanson clearly heard it. That chilling voice from Patrick that reached his ear was without a doubt, genuine.
‘I’m going to die.’
Twin Dragon Eight Sword Forms Third Form Flash Dragon Strike There was no aura, and it was only a wooden sword. But that didn't matter. The momentum and killing intent carried by that sword were more than enough to kill Sanson.
The moment Patrick’s two swords were about to turn into a flash of light…
“Aaaaaaaaah!”
The two swords Sanson had raised above his head became a ray of light a beat faster.
And… Clack!
“Uh… uh-buh-buh…”
“Uh… uh, uh, uh.”
“Heo-eoh…”
The soldiers saw it. They saw Patrick blocking the wooden sword Sanson had swung with his own. Ordinary soldiers would have looked on dismissively, wondering what was so amazing about it.
But the soldiers of the Schneider Fief were all swordsmen who had reached at least the three-star level. That was why they understood the current situation.
“Wasn’t the young master first?”
“The Flash Dragon Strike was first, wasn’t it?”
“Did he just block that, no, did he stop it?”
There wasn't a single soldier who didn't know Patrick's Flash Dragon Strike.
Why?
Because they had all been hit by it. It was a technique where something would just flash and come flying, knocking them away. Although the technique had been named ‘Flash,’ Patrick called it Flash Dragon Strike so often that the soldiers had started calling it that as well.
In any case, among the soldiers of the Schneider Fief, no one had ever blocked or dodged it. But Sanson had blocked it. He had stopped it perfectly, just before it was unleashed.
“To strike second and gain control.”
“Pardon?”
“If you can do this much, I suppose I can acknowledge you now.”
“What do you mean?”
Patrick smirked and said to Sanson.
“Try drawing out your aura.”
“Pardon?”
“When I tell you to do something, just do it, huh?”
“Yes, yes, I understand.”
He had no idea what was going on, but it seemed best to do as he was told. Sanson grumbled as he drew out his aura onto his wooden sword.
Then…
“Huh?”
Sanson, who had drawn out his aura, was even more surprised. His sword was shimmering with a concentration of aura far denser than before. As Sanson stood bewildered by the amount of aura, which was on a completely different level, Patrick spoke.
“From now on, if anyone asks your level, tell them you’re five-star.”
The moment he heard those words, goosebumps erupted all over Sanson’s body.
“Young master. Then does this really mean…”
“Yes, it’s just as you think.”
“Wooo… woooooooh!”
Sanson roared like an Orc warrior victorious in battle. He couldn’t contain the hot passion welling up in his chest. The five-star level.
He had inwardly thought he would reach it someday, but that ‘someday’ never seemed to come, and he had been growing anxious. Setting Patrick aside as a different kind of being, it was a level that April had also surpassed with ease less than a year after picking up a sword, yet it had remained just out of his reach.
And now, at this very moment, he had ascended to that five-star level.
“Young master, then today’s spar was…”
“It seemed like it would take you a while if I just left you be, so I used a somewhat drastic method.”
“Young master…”
Sanson now looked at Patrick with tears welling in his eyes.
“So this was your intention.”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“Young master…”
This was quite moving. In truth, when he was ordered to do the drastic 1 vs 100 spar, he had thought, ‘Finally, this human is trying to kill me. Did I follow this human for this?’
“If I’m reborn, I will never associate with this bastard again. I was having such thoughts.”
“…”
“Hooo, is that so?”
“Did I… perhaps say that out loud?”
“You did.”
“…”
Seeing Sanson break out in a cold sweat, Patrick spoke coldly.
“Well, there’s still something left, so let’s put off killing you for a bit.”
He definitely wasn’t saying he wouldn’t kill him. But what was this about something being left? As Sanson wondered, a man walked towards him.
“My lord.”
“Huh? Why has the lord come to the training grounds?”
The one who appeared was Baron Jaycol Schneider. The Baron, who almost never came to the training grounds, had appeared in this place now. And he was even wearing formal attire.
Beside him, Butler Lawrence was also present, holding a long sword. Having stepped onto the training grounds, Baron Schneider spoke with a solemn expression.
“Soldier Sanson, kneel.”
“…”
Sanson had a dazed expression on his face at those words. It wasn't because he didn't understand the situation. It was because he had an inkling of what was happening that he was hesitating.
Me?
Is it okay for me? Is it really okay? Patrick gave the hesitant Sanson a gentle push on the back.
“What are you doing? Not going to do it?”
“Young master.”
“You can look for your ‘young master’ later, just get on your knees. Are you not going to be knighted?”
“…”
Sanson held back his tears and walked towards Baron Schneider. One step, two steps, three steps… Upon reaching the Baron, Sanson reverently knelt on one knee and bowed his head.
Baron Schneider then took the sword from Butler Lawrence, held it before him, and spoke.
“Sanson of the Schneider Fief, listen well.”
“Yes.”
And from Baron Schneider’s lips, the knight’s oath flowed.
“Be brave. Be faithful. Be honorable. Be courteous. Be devout. Be humble. Protect the weak.”
Sanson replied to the words coming from the Baron’s mouth with the utmost sincerity.
“Yes.”
“I hereby appoint you a knight and bestow upon you the name Kainel.”
The Baron’s sword then lightly tapped both of Sanson’s shoulders. It was the moment of the birth of the knight, Sanson Kainel.
“Let’s drink, brother. We have to drink until we die today.”
“Brother? You should call him Sir Kainel now.”
“Oh, my mistake. Sir Kainel.”
“That’s embarrassing. Just call me brother when we’re not on duty.”
“Aigoo, how could a lowly commoner like myself address a knight so…”
“Just do it, you bastard.”
“Hehehe. If you say so.”
Sanson downed the celebratory drinks pouring in without a moment's rest. He wasn’t usually one to drink much, but today was an exception. He accepted every drink offered by his subordinates, who had rented out the entire tavern, and drank them all.
“Congratulations. In the end, you were the first, brother.”
“The knighthood? Or reaching the five-star level?”
“Both.”
“Keuuuh, you think we can do it someday too?”
“I’m next. Next is me.”
“I’ll be first, not you. You bastard.”
“What’s that? With your skills?”
“You want to die?”
“You want a piece of me?”
“Let’s go!”
The tavern turned into a chaotic mess, but no one cared as they were all busy eating and drinking. The soldiers ate and drank, nearly wrecking the tavern in the process. A little while later, Orc warriors, drawn by the smell of alcohol, joined in.
As a result, they drank until the tavern ran out of liquor.
The next day.
“Thank you, young master.”
“Huh? For what?”
Patrick replied indifferently to Sanson, who was bowing deeply in gratitude. Sanson thought for a moment, then spoke, his voice still filled with emotion.
“…For everything.”
“You’ve gotten better with words.”
“You taught me the sword, and you made me a knight. And thank you for pulling me up when I was stuck at the wall of my level.”
Sanson understood now. He understood the meaning of yesterday’s spar. To break through the wall that was blocking him, Patrick had pushed him to his limits.
He had come to the verge of breaking through during the spars with the soldiers, but when it seemed he wouldn’t be able to cross the final hurdle, Patrick himself had stepped in, radiating killing intent to help him surpass his limits.
It was a wall that would have taken Sanson years of struggle to overcome on his own, but Patrick had grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and forcibly pulled him over it. And there was a reason Patrick had done this.
“As you know, I won’t be here for a while.”
“Congratulations on your admission to the academy.”
“It’s not really something to celebrate… well, whatever. In any case, I will be gone, and April will be gone as well.”
“…”
“That means you will have to protect the fief and lead the soldiers.”
“…”
“To be honest, I think the title of knight is a bit early for you, but I thought it was necessary to give you a clear milestone to guide the soldiers. Your skills are still far from adequate.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
It was a conversation that flowed calmly, but anyone else who heard it would have been horrified. Usually, one could be called a knight just by reaching the two-star or three-star level. A four-star was a skilled individual rarely seen in the countryside, and five-star was a level that would earn you esteemed treatment in any country.
Yet, he casually said that a five-star level was insufficient. By the standards of others, Patrick’s criteria were harsh enough to be considered cruel. But because of that…
“Well, even so, at your current level, you should be able to lead the soldiers. You’ve worked hard.”
Because Patrick’s standards were high, a single word of praise from his lips held a different value. Sanson’s body trembled slightly with emotion as he spoke.
“I will do my utmost to fulfill the role you have entrusted to me.”
Watching Sanson, Patrick was seized by a strange feeling. Back then, the disciples of the Twin Dragon Sect were subjects of his protection, not comrades to whom he could entrust anything. They were so pathetically weak; if he entrusted them with something, they might die.
How could he possibly entrust them with anything? The reason he led his disciples directly through the war was to keep them within his sight and protect them. If only he had had even one guy like this back then…
If only there was at least one person he could trust and entrust things to, even if they weren't as strong as himself…
‘I researched and developed all those martial arts to raise people like that…’
In the end, those preparations never bore fruit in the martial world. But now, having crossed worlds to this Pangemonia Continent, Patrick had obtained what he so desired and was able to say the words he had wanted to say.
“Sanson.”
“Yes, young master.”
Patrick gripped Sanson’s shoulders firmly and said.
“I’ll trust you.”
“…Yes.”
Leaving those words behind, Patrick departed for the academy.