Mad Dragon Grandmaster Jin Cheon. Just as his name suggested, he was a madman. He was definitely a madman.
Though he was a madman officially recognized by the Righteous, Unorthodox, and Demonic paths… He didn't solve all the world's problems with madness alone. Patrick often said.
[Most problems in the world can be solved by beating the crap out of them!]
He was serious about this. But the key word here was 'most'. He never used the word 'all'.
Even this Patrick knew that sometimes, strength, madness, and violence could not solve a situation. And at such times, his friend, the Ugly Dragon Scholar Jegal Hyeon, would usually lend him his wisdom. Following his friend's advice, most of the tangled and complicated problems were resolved, or at the very least, temporarily patched up.
After watching this process from the side countless times, Patrick could also do something similar, like a dog at a village school reciting poetry. The ugly fellow used to say. To divert the attention of a powerful person, create a third enemy.
It is even better if its true nature is unclear. That was why he deliberately sent Professor Leit to propose a deal as if someone was behind him. In the process, returning the Ice Sword, Isis, was a teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeny tiny bit regrettable, but it couldn't be helped.
'Turns out, it was a difficult item to sell as stolen goods.' When he took it to Red and asked if he could exchange it for money, Red freaked out and thrashed about, saying he'd rather die.
That's right.
Isis was a very famous item. Such a famous item was something that could be sold for a high price, but at the same time, it was a troublesome white elephant that was difficult to dispose of secretly. Possessing a treasure that was difficult to liquidate would only deepen the potential for problems.
In the end, he boldly used it for the purpose of deceiving Marquis Panola. Marquis Panola would wonder why the person behind Professor Leit willingly returned Isis, but he would never reach the conclusion, 'because it's hard to exchange for money.' Even for a seasoned politician, reading the thoughts of a madman is not easy.
Patrick said with a grin. “Anyway, you don't have to worry about it. Speaking of which, isn't it about time for the professor to come and report?"
"Huh?"
Why would a professor report? To a student? Doesn't that feel like the hierarchy has been destructively reversed?
Matthew could only come to a rational conclusion. 'Is he crazy?' Which was the correct answer.
Unfortunately, sometimes, crazy things did actually happen. Just like now.
Knock, knock.
Along with the knocking, a voice was heard from outside the side door.
“Young Schneider. Are you in there?”
“Yes. Please come in.”
The one who entered with the knock was Professor Leit. The strictest tiger professor in the knights' faculty. In terms of skill, reputation, and temper, he was a figure on a different level from the other professors.
When he entered, Matthew froze stiff. Patrick was currently under confinement. So, if he was seen visiting and being with him like this, a fiery scolding could fall from Professor Leit, given his personality.
No, it wasn't just 'could fall', it 'should have fallen'.
But...
“You were here too, Matthew.”
“Ah... good day, Professor." Professor Leit merely greeted him normally. From Matthew's perspective, even that was so nerve-wracking that his words trembled.
Patrick paid it no mind and spoke. “Did you handle things well?"
“I did as you said.”
“How was it? Did it go well?"
“Kukuku. What is there to say?”
“Kukukukuk... It seems it was quite satisfying.”
“Khahahahahaha. You should have seen that bastard Marquis Panola's face.”
"Mwahahahahaha."
"Puhahahahaha."
Professor Leit laughed with genuine satisfaction. The expression on Marquis Panola's face when he saw his Aura Blade and froze. After that, how he tensed up at every word, his mind racing, until the moment he shrunk back in fear and froze at the mention of 'that person'...
“Ah, it felt like ten years of indigestion had cleared up.”
“Keeeuh... You shouldn't let something like that fester for ten years. You should resolve it within a week at most.”
“Hmm, you're right."
“Right? Shall we have a toast then?”
"Sounds good."
And Patrick went to the corner, took out some liquor, and poured it into three glasses, one for Matthew as well. Alcohol in the knights' faculty dorms? In front of a professor, no less?
And during confinement? Matthew couldn't even tell where the problem began. Should he blame the student who had alcohol in his dorm?
Or should he curse the professor who happily accepted and drank it? No, more importantly, why am I here?
“Cheers!”
“Cheeeers!”
Watching the two of them, Matthew had a thought for the first time, one he never had even amidst all of Roist's bullying.
‘I want to go home.’
"Really?"
"Yeah. I'm serious."
“Let me ask again.
Really? For real?
You're not kidding, this is one hundred twenty percent your own will?"
"Yes, it is."
Patrick looked at his friend Matthew before him with a dubious expression and spoke.
“You're asking me to train you, is that it.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Hmm…. Well now.”
Patrick pondered.
Just as his confinement was over and he was about to start a somewhat normal academy life, he received such a request from a friend. “Is it not possible?" “It's not that it's not possible.
It's possible, but..." The things Patrick was good at were mainly destructive acts like beating, breaking, and killing things. He had a specialty that would make priests who served the God of Destruction Kalaron exclaim, 'Oh, to think such a faithful devotee existed.'
But if such a Patrick had one other specialty besides that, it was………
“Teaching someone is my specialty, after all.”
That's right.
Surprisingly, this was the field where Patrick's true worth was demonstrated. In his past life, how much research had he done to fundamentally overhaul the ridiculously difficult martial arts of the Twin Dragon Sect for his untalented martial brothers and nephews?
All the strands of martial arts he had obtained by pleading (threatening) his way through the Nine Great Sects and One Gang and the Five Great Families were all to somehow normalize the ridiculously difficult martial arts of the Twin Dragon Sect.
And the results of that research, ironically, crossed the wall between worlds and blossomed among the soldiers of the Schneider Fief. Fostering two hundred three-star knights in five years. This was an achievement Patrick had actually accomplished.
Honestly, it would be far more efficient to fire all the academy professors, give their salaries to Patrick, and entrust the students to him. So, he could teach. He could teach really well.
He was confident he could produce firm results, setting aside the banquet of pain and hell implied in that word 'well'. “It'll be a little tough if you train with me. Are you still okay with that?"
A little? A liiittle?
If the soldiers of the faraway Schneider Fief in the east had heard those words at this moment, they would have coughed up blood and collapsed. But the young master from a rich family, oblivious to reality, said with sparkling eyes.
“Of course it'll be tough. That's what I want.”
“Oh, I like that.”
And so, one poor little lamb walked into hell of its own accord. If you intend to teach someone, you must first know their current standing. To find out Matthew's current level, Patrick had a simple sparring match with him.
"Haaaaat!"
Clack. Clack-clack! Clack.
Wooden swords clashed fiercely in the training grounds. Matthew, dripping with sweat, charged at Patrick, and Patrick silently received his attacks. For thirty minutes, sometimes attacking and sometimes defending, he tested Matthew's abilities and aptitude in various ways.
“Pant……. pant…. H-how… was it?”
To the gasping Matthew, Patrick said with a grin.
“My friend?"
"Yeah?"
“Can't you do something other than being a knight?" The result of the verification. Matthew didn't have even a sliver of talent.
Patrick had been confident. Even if one wasn't a genius, as long as they had at least average talent, he believed he could raise them to at least the three-star level through an appropriate hell and reasonable nagging.
But.
'Wow... this is serious.' Truly, not even a speck of talent for the sword could be found. No, how could this be?
This was the knights' faculty, with fierce competition even within the kingdom's academy. To get in here, doesn't it mean you have to pass an exam and be recognized as talented? But Matthew's condition was severe.
“How did you get into the academy?" "...well…..”
Seeing Matthew's hesitation, Patrick said as if to say, 'I knew it.' “Did you build a building for the knights' faculty or something?"
“No.” "Then?"
“The library for the Department of Public Administration and the resource room for the law department. And the cafe for the Diplomacy Department too……."
“What a thing to be proud of.”
Keuh...
This beautiful world where money can do anything.
Patrick sighed.
Why was this guy, with so much damn money, so desperate to wield a sword? If Patrick had been born in Matthew's environment, he wouldn't have even touched a sword.
Strength?
With money, you can command ghosts, so why couldn't you command a living martial artist? In the first place, why was the son of the kingdom's wealthiest family being bullied?
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like, 'Why does this bastard live like this?'”
“You have no talent, but you're damn perceptive." Matthew's feelings were hurt, but Patrick didn't even care. He was currently deliberating.
Was the time and effort required to teach this guy, who had absolutely no talent no matter how hard you looked, and make him act like a knight, a fair price to pay for establishing a connection with the Elbador Merchant Guild and prospering his family's business? ‘Ugh, it is beneficial to do it, but……. Money really is great.
It can command ghosts, it can command martial artists, and it can command madmen. Patrick made his decision.
"Alright.
I'll take responsibility and make sure you can call yourself a knight.”
“Really?"
“Yeah. For real. I'm the guy who raised hundreds of people who didn't even know how to properly swing a sword to the three-star level.”
“Hahahaha."
Matthew laughed, thinking it was a joke. But he didn't know. Patrick really could do it.
Though how arduous the process would be was another matter.
“But I have a favor to ask.”
“Huh?”
“Introduce me to your father later. I have something to discuss about business.”
“W-what?"
“No, it's not that. It's not that I can't….” Matthew was flustered.
He was perceptive enough to know. The reason Patrick was suddenly being friendly to him was because of his family.
But this….
'Isn't this too blatant? Do nobles usually act like this?' It wasn't the first time Matthew had dealt with a noble aiming for his family's money.
But the way nobles approached him was always with an arrogant and coercive attitude, as if they were looking down on him. Cases like Roist, who used direct physical coercion, were typical, and even if not, most would apply subtle pressure, as if to say, 'You, a commoner, must follow me, a noble.'
But Patrick...
“Keuh, for real? You promised, okay? You can't go back on your word later.”
He had never met someone so blatant. Shouldn't nobles, you know, usually value their honor more than their lives and never lose face in front of a commoner? But Patrick showed no sign of that at all.
Having lived his past life as a high-ranking disciple of a grand beggar sect, Patrick knew. Face and honor don't put food on the table. To live, you need money.
First, you must have money. Face or honor that got in the way of making money was irrelevant. This was a legitimate transaction.
Patrick would teach Matthew the sword, and Matthew would introduce Patrick to his father—a mutually beneficial deal.
"Hehehe.
Then let's start today.”
“From today?”
“Ahem, no one can stop the flow of time. Right now, this very moment, every minute and second is precious.”
“Uh.... yeah. Right.”
“Good.
Then let's start right away.
Hahaha.."
Looking at Patrick's smile, Matthew tried to logically grasp the ominous reality. 'This is, after all, a fair deal.
Fair...
It will be fair… right?'
As if.