Patrick grabbed Professor Leit's shoulder and said with a bright smile.
“Alright. Then I'll be in your care for a long, long time to come.”
“Ah, yes. Well, that's...”
“Don't worry. Do you think I'd make an unreasonable request? I'll conscientiously provide you with appropriate opportunities to repay my kindness.”
“Um… Ah… That is…”
“For your information.”
“...”
“People who promise to repay a debt and then wipe their mouths clean are the twenty-first thing I hate.”
“...”
“It would be in your best interest to remember that.”
As he was being threatened by Patrick, Professor Leit thought.
‘Why does he hate so many things?’
First day of entering the academy. Patrick had made a professor his backer.
“Is it true? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. No doubt.”
“A baron from some backwater fief on the eastern frontier? You're saying that's for real.”
“Yes. It's a fact I found out after paying the guys in the administration department to thoroughly investigate the registry of nobles.”
Hearing this, Roist gritted his teeth.
Grind.
‘A country bumpkin from a nobody rural noble family dared to do that to me, is that it?’
Unable to bear the humiliation, a subordinate who went by the name of 'friend' standing before him spoke.
“What are you going to do?”
“What do you mean, what am I going to do?”
“I'm going to crush that bastard.”
“He seemed pretty skilled...”
“But he can't stand against numbers.”
“Well, that's true...”
“Don't worry and call the guys. We're going to crush that bastard.”
“Alright. I'll do that.”
Roist said, his eyes bloodshot.
“Patrick Schneider. You're dead.”
Tsk, tsk, tsk. He really shouldn't have.
“All done, sir.”
“You could have just done it roughly. Why put so much effort into this?”
“If the lady were to see you, she would be very proud.”
“But she can't see me, can she?”
Patrick let out a small laugh and looked at his reflection in the mirror. There he was, dressed in the uniform of a first-year student of the academy's knights' faculty. This uniform, adorned with high-quality fabric and an emblem indicating his affiliation, was the most coveted attire among young men of Patrick's age.
‘Well, it's not so bad.’
April, who had helped Patrick put on his uniform, saw him off, saying.
“Attendants are not allowed to follow during classes, so you must go alone.”
“I know.”
“You remember your entire class schedule, don't you? And you remember where all your classes are held?”
“I said I know, didn't I?”
“If you happen to get lost, don't just wander around. You must find a staff member nearby and ask for directions.”
“Ah, I know! Am I a child?”
“You have not yet had your coming-of-age ceremony.”
“Ugh... Let's not talk about the years I've actually lived.”
If he added the years from his past life, he was old enough to be considered sixty. But in reality, he was just a kid who had to be careful even when drinking alcohol.
‘How pathetic. So pathetic. I need to have this coming-of-age ceremony or whatever the hell it is, quickly.’
And so, Patrick left April behind and went out. In truth, while he felt it was a bother, he also felt a sense of wonder.
‘To think I'd live long enough to attend a school. And at this age, no less.’
In his past life, a school was a place that had absolutely no connection to Patrick. After all, what was a school? Wasn't it a place where the children of well-to-do families gathered to study, hoping to enter official service to live even better lives?
It was impossible for poor people, busy just trying to get by day to day, to attend school. Though there were tales of tenacious people who practiced ‘plowing by day and reading by night’, Patrick had never seen one in his life.
‘It's probably a lie.’
In any case, he was now attending such a school, no, an academy. And a rather respectable one at that. Befitting an institution designed to nurture the kingdom's carefully selected talents, its vast grounds were filled with the latest facilities, and the social treatment and perception of its students were excellent.
Since it was his first day at such an academy, even the great Patrick Schneider couldn't help but feel a little excited.
Yes.
That was certainly the case until a minute ago.
“Country bumpkin. Let's have a word.”
“... An elite training institution, my ass... Any place where people live is all the same.”
That is, before he saw the group of people blocking his path. The way they suddenly appeared and surrounded him from front and back, as if they had been waiting, looked very practiced. Seeing them dressed in the same first-year uniform of the knights' faculty as him, Patrick pondered.
‘Should I crush them now? Or should I move to another spot and crush them?’
As Patrick deliberated, the other party spoke with a swaggering smile.
“Let's go somewhere nice, somewhere real nice.”
“Somewhere nice?”
“Yeah. A place where no one will notice you, no matter how loud you scream.”
“Hooo, so there's such a prime spot.”
It was geographical information he could make good use of for a long time if he remembered it.
‘Let's go there and crush them.’
“Alright. Lead the way.”
As Patrick obediently prepared to follow, those surrounding him nodded and stuck close to his front and back as they moved. The place they arrived at after moving was...
“This is the nice place?”
It was the knights' faculty training grounds. He wondered where they were going, only to arrive at a place he was already seeing for the third time. Then, the other party said.
“Here, you can scream as much as you want, and if anything happens, we can just use sparring as an excuse.”
“Ahhh. I see.”
Patrick nodded as if he had learned something useful and slapped his palm with his fist. By now, even those who had brought Patrick here couldn't help but think.
‘What's with this bastard?’
It was an entirely natural question that most people had after encountering Patrick Schneider. Just then, someone appeared as if on cue. A man, his entire body covered in plate mail, armed with a shield and longsword, and even wearing a full-faced helmet, appeared and spoke.
“Good of you to come without running away. Country bumpkin.”
“It's too late to come crying and begging for forgiveness now.”
“Hmm...”
Patrick's brow furrowed. The opponent spoke to Patrick, who seemed to be pondering something.
“No, wait. If you crawl like a dog between my legs and bark three times, I might beat you a little less painfully. Kehehehe... How about it, want to try?”
“Excuse me... I have a question.”
“... What is it?”
“Who... are you?”
“I don't think we've met before?”
At Patrick's words, the opponent lifted the visor of his full-faced helmet and said.
“It's me. Who else would it be? You idiot.”
“Ah... You're that guy from yesterday...”
“That's right. I'm...”
“The poop-pants.”
“Keoheok...”
Roist grabbed the back of his neck and looked up at the sky. In his nearly twenty years of life, it was the first time he had ever felt the emotion of, 'So this is what true rage feels like.' And Patrick said.
“You were running so hard yesterday, could it be... Ah...”
Patrick looked at Roist with pitiful eyes. Filled with the sentiment of, 'Your social reputation has been greatly tarnished. I see.', his expression made Roist burst out shouting.
“It's not true! I told you it's not true, you bastard!”
“Alright. I get it. We'll say it's not true.”
“It's not about 'saying' it's not true, it really isn't! I told you it isn't!”
“Okay, okay.”
Patrick nodded with a warm smile, as if he knew everything.
“Keu... keuheok...”
Roist felt like he was going insane. He hadn't been hit even once, but it hurt more than if he had been. Born as the son of a marquis, this was the first time he had ever experienced such humiliation.
Even as he grabbed the back of his neck and was about to collapse, Patrick looked around at the others and said.
“You guys pretend you don't know, too. Put yourselves in his shoes, how embarrassing would that be? Right?”
‘I'll... I'll kill him. I'm going to kill him.’
For the first time in his life, Roist truly thought he had to kill someone. He gritted his teeth and said.
“We will now begin the spar. Country bumpkin.”
“Why?”
Normally, would the word 'Why?' come out in a situation like this? Even for those who had ganged up on people many times before, this 'Why?' at this juncture was a new experience. And Roist said.
“No more words are needed. I will repay yesterday's humiliation.”
“It's not my fault you pooped your pants, is it?”
“I told you it's not trueeee!”
Roist charged, as if he didn't even want to exchange words anymore. Patrick held no weapon; he was bare-handed in his light uniform. And Roist was clad head-to-toe in full plate armor, holding a real sword and even a shield.
This couldn't even be called a spar.
But… Claaaang!
“Keok...”
Roist's eyes flashed. By the time he felt like something had flown at him, his head had already been snapped to the side.
And then…
“Over here. Here.”
Patrick was suddenly in front of him, lightly shaking his fist.
“You bastardddd!”
The moment Roist tried to swing his sword in that direction...
Clang! Crack! Wham!
A lightning-fast barrage of blows hammered Roist's entire body. Roist had his whole body wrapped in plate mail, with chain mail underneath, but…
“Geu... Geueuk!”
Despite it all, the pain of the impact was transmitted directly through.
‘H-how?’
He didn't even know where or how he was hit. When he came to his senses, there wasn't a single spot that didn't ache. And above all, it was excruciatingly painful.
The pain was like being struck by a giant war hammer at full swing, not a bare fist. He couldn't understand how this was possible. When he looked again, Patrick's hands were empty.
Patrick looked at Roist and spoke as if he were pathetic.
“Tsk tsk, did you think wrapping yourself in a few scraps of iron would make a difference?”
“You… how can you, with your bare hands…”
“You're asking why it hurts when I hit your armor with my bare hands?”
“... Y-yes.”
It didn't make sense. Patrick had clearly struck the outside of the armor. And the armor was perfectly fine, without a single dent.
However, Roist's body inside was taking the full impact of Patrick's blows. The armor wasn't doing its job at all.
“Tsk tsk tsk, you brat who doesn't even know the Weight Transfer Technique.”
“W-what technique?”
“Well, since you don't know it, I guess that's why you'd wrap your body in these uselessly heavy iron plates.”
“... What do you mean?”
“You don't get it? You don't understand?”
“Th-that's right.”
“Alright. In that case...”
Patrick said with a grin.
“Just take the beating, you bastard!”
And Patrick's kick shot up from below, launching Roist into the air.
K-thwack!
“Keoheok!”
A kick landed squarely on his solar plexus, and with a suffocating pain, Roist floated into the air. What awaited him was the epitome of merciless violence. Infinite Hell Chain Fist, Variant - Armor Only Increases the Number of Hits.
“Adadadadadadadadada!”
Cl-cl-cl-cl-cl-cl-clang!
Would roasting beans on lightning create such a scene? Roist, who weighed well over 100 kilograms in his full armor, did not come down from the air. Countless flying fists and feet minced Roist's entire body, each and every blow containing a force that neutralized the armor.
Beyond the armor, Roist experienced the pain of having his entire body tenderized while still alive.
“Hap!”
Craaaack!
Finally, a powerful downward heel kick slammed Roist straight into the ground.
“Uh... uh uh…”
“Ababababa…”
The others watching the scene couldn't hide their astonishment. In truth, they knew Patrick was strong. Roist's skills weren't half bad for a first-year, but Patrick had toyed with him.
But what in the world was this? They had surrounded and pressured a bare-handed opponent in a group, attacking him by surprise while fully armed. And yet, this was the result…
“A… a monster.”
“Run... Should we run?”
At that moment, Patrick's head turned to the side with a creaking sound.
And then…
“Ruuuuun?”
The moment they heard that word, the others felt their hearts drop. Patrick walked toward them step by step and said.
“Ahhh… So you all ganged up on me, but now that things aren't looking good, you're going to scram?”
“... Uh… uh uh..”
“That's... that...”
“We weren't trying to gang up on you…”
Patrick said to the ones making clumsy excuses.
“Are you bastards messing with me right now?”
“Euk?”
“Ugh...”
A thick killing intent now enveloped the brats of the knights' faculty first-year course. In that instant, they understood how prey caught in a spider's web must feel.