A few days later. The Knight Faculty's training grounds. The empty training grounds after everyone had finished their training and left.
But two people remained, sweating until the very end. No, to be precise, only one of them was sweating.
"The tip of your sword is wavering."
"Got it."
"Focus."
"Hup!"
At Patrick's critique, Matthew swung his sword with, quite literally, all his focus.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
It was just a simple downward strike, but the sound was much better than before. 'He's improved a lot.' When Patrick first saw him, Matthew's sword had been flaccid, like a jellyfish drifting in the sea.
He had thought it was a talent in itself to have the sword's path stray so erratically with a single downward strike. But now, the sound of the wind from his swings was quite sharp. The phrase 'leaps and bounds' must have been made for times like this.
'Well, I still have to be careful. A real plateau will be coming from here on out.' It was similar to studying.
It was relatively easy to raise a kid who scored 10 or 20 points up to 50. You just had to beat it into them. But raising a 50-point student to 70 was much harder. And for a 70 to become an 80 was even more difficult.
Training was something where the difficulty increased and the plateaus got longer the higher you went. If you spent that period poorly, you could end up collapsing in despair, laziness, or the satisfaction of thinking you've done enough. 'With me, the Radiant Dragon Grandmaster Jin Cheon, teaching you, you can't be satisfied with being just some mediocre three-star knight.
I'll drop you down to at least five-star.’ Not raising, but dropping. Matthew had no choice in the matter.
"Hehehe. I think I'm too good of a teacher."
As he said that, Patrick grabbed his canteen and gulped it down. As one might expect, what was in this fellow's canteen was alcohol. It was a trick prepared to make up for a previous mistake.
While one person was sweating and the other was consuming alcohol, the one sweating spoke.
"She's not coming today?"
"Who?"
"The Princess, I mean."
Patrick smirked at Matthew's words. He'd seemed a bit more distracted than usual; it looked like he was bothered by Princess Isabella's absence.
"Do you like our senior?"
"No. In my position, how could I..."
"What's wrong with your position?"
"Well..."
Seeing Matthew hesitate, radiating 'I am timid' with his entire body, Patrick smirked. Come to think of it, this kid was an oddball too. Why would the only son of the Elbador Merchant Group, said to have more money than the Atronia royal family, have so little confidence?
Looking at the merchants who ran the great merchant groups in the martial world, even if they couldn't perform a single martial arts move, confidence naturally flowed from them. They knew well the power of money. Compared to them, Matthew was definitely a strange one.
To put it nicely, he was humble; to put it badly, he was timid.
"I don't like the Princess. Really, I don't. It's just that I kept seeing her and now I don't, so..."
"Alright, alright. Just swing your sword."
"It's true, though..."
Matthew grumbled as he swung his sword, and Patrick said to him.
"I humored her once as she wished, so she won't come anymore. No, at least for a while she won't. If she has any conscience, that is."
The moment Patrick said that, Matthew spoke.
"There she is?"
"What?"
With a dumbfounded expression, Patrick looked where Matthew's gaze was directed. There, he could clearly see Isabella walking towards him. He rubbed his eyes, but it wasn't an illusion; she was real.
He was speechless.
"... She has no conscience."
Princess Isabella approached the reluctant-looking Patrick and spoke.
"I have a favor to ask."
"No." "... I haven't even said what it is yet?"
"Aren't you going to ask for another spar?"
"No." "Oh? Really?"
"I'm done with sparring. For now..."
'For now,' huh. Patrick decided to hear her out for the time being. And Isabella looked at Patrick and said.
"How strong are you?"
"Probably... the strongest on the continent?"
What? Why? What?
Patrick didn't even blink at Isabella's 'What is this shameless bastard?' expression. Isabella shook her head slightly, as if to say, 'Right, this is the kind of person he was,' and then spoke to Patrick.
"Please. Teach me the sword."
"I'm your junior, you know?"
"But you're stronger than me."
"The professors are also stronger than you, senior."
"But you are..."
Isabella started to speak, but stopped. In her estimation, Patrick's skills might even be greater than the professors'. He hadn't just beaten her, who was on the verge of the three-star level; he had played with her as if guiding her in the palm of his hand.
Among the professors, besides the Unyielding Knight, Justin Leit, it would be difficult for anyone to beat her like that. So it seemed Patrick was stronger than the professors. That was definitely how it felt.
But... 'Common sense...' That's right.
The fact that a first-year academy student was stronger than a professor was something that far surpassed the common sense she knew. That was why she couldn't easily say it out loud. In fact, regardless of its truth, the statement itself was quite problematic.
"Anyway, I want to learn from you."
"And I don't feel like teaching you, senior."
At Patrick's words, Isabella looked at Matthew, who was diligently swinging his sword beside them. Amidst this, Matthew was swinging his sword diligently, as if to appeal, 'I'm just a normal person who has nothing to do with this mess.' But did you know this?
The world often doesn't go the way you want.
"You're teaching him, aren't you?"
"Oh..."
Patrick thought for a moment, choosing his words. If he were to speak his true thoughts...
[His father has a lot of money. It would be good to have the Elbador Merchant Group's cooperation in a new venture I'm planning, so I'm doing this to get their help.]
Saying that would be his honest intention. But still, what kind of person would speak their true intentions so openly? Patrick was a noble, too; didn't he have face to save?
So he had to choose his words carefully here. Having finished thinking, Patrick opened his mouth.
"His father has a lot of money. It would be good to have the Elbador Merchant Group's cooperation in a new venture I'm planning, so I'm doing this to get their help."
This bastard...
Isabella's jaw dropped at Patrick's single sentence, which openly revealed his explicit and greedy heart. And she looked at Matthew, who was sighing beside them, and spoke.
"Are you okay with this?"
"Princess."
"Yes?"
"What's the problem?"
"Well..."
Princess Isabella was at a loss for words. When she tried to point out what the problem was, she couldn't find the right words. In fact, from Matthew's perspective, there was nothing new about Patrick's true intentions.
Hadn't he already promised to go out and meet his father after the exams, at Patrick's incredibly blatant request?
So what?
Did she expect him to be hurt by this? It was true that Matthew had a timid personality, but he wasn't a fool. Regardless of a person's intentions, if the actions themselves are sincere, the relationship has sufficient value.
A relationship between a man and a woman that began with a misunderstanding could turn into ardent love, and a general who surrendered to live might later fight bravely and achieve great military distinction. That was the way of the world that Matthew had learned from his father.
Of course, he himself wanted to be a knight, but having been born and raised with certain teachings, where would that way of thinking go? His sense of discerning what was right and wrong was a typical business mindset. 'Patrick wants to see my father, and I am diligently learning the sword from Patrick.
We are both just faithfully carrying out our promises. What's the problem here?' Purity of motive?
For a merchant, such a thing wasn't very important. What's important is the sincerity shown in the process and the results produced from it. Matthew said to the fumbling Isabella.
"If you want to receive help from Patrick, Princess, then you should help him too."
"Then I can learn the sword?"
"That would depend on what you can offer."
And Matthew began to swing his sword again. In truth, he had given that advice seeing Isabella's enthusiasm. But that was as far as it went.
From now on, she had to figure it out herself. Isabella looked at Patrick and spoke.
"I'll pay tuition."
"How much?"
"10 gold."
"Forget it."
It was a considerable sum, but if you included all the various troubles that would arise from teaching a nation's princess, it was far too cheap. At that, Isabella made a troubled expression. As if the amount she had just named was the highest price she could offer.
'She doesn't know how to haggle. No, more than that...'
"You're a princess, senior. But the limit of what you can pay is 10 gold?"
"Yes."
"Huh? Really?"
"Yes."
Looking at Isabella answering so calmly, Patrick was puzzled.
'Strange.
Is this normal? I've never met a princess before, but still, this is too...' Depending on the situation, 10 gold could be a large sum.
But thinking of it as the maximum amount a nation's princess could use, it was honestly too little. Then Isabella said to Patrick.
"I can't give you more money. This is all the money I have."
"If you give me all the money you have, what will you do, senior?"
Seeing Isabella's expression, which revealed a sentiment of 'Come to think of it,' Patrick was flabbergasted.
"You naive princess, who doesn't know the value of money."
"That's harsh."
"What's harsh about it? It's the absolute truth."
Seeing her puff out her cheeks, she seemed quite peeved. But she also had her circumstances. Even though she was a princess, she was not born of the queen.
Forget the queen, she wasn't even from a royal concubine. Born from the body of a maidservant who attended the king, she was a princess, but one far removed from power or wealth. She didn't have a strong maternal family, nor did the king dote on her.
Basically, the king was indifferent to her. Though he was her father, the last time she had seen the king was on her coming-of-age birthday. A princess with no money or power, only a noble status.
That was Isabella. After pondering for a moment, Isabella said to Patrick.
"If you teach me the sword, I'll do anything in return."
"Pfft!"
"Cough."
Patrick, who had been drinking the alcohol from his canteen, spat it out. Matthew, who had been diligently swinging his sword again, also choked and nearly dropped his sword. And Patrick, with a horrified expression, said to Isabella.
"Senior, a royal... no, forget royalty, don't you know you can't just say things like that recklessly, no matter who you are?"
"I know."
"What do you mean, you know?"
"Me? Huh? To put it bluntly, huh? What if I told you to do something... rough? Huh?"
"Something rough?"
After a moment of thought, Princess Isabella's mouth opened.
"Se..."
"Aaaahhhh!"
"I didn't hear it. I didn't hear anything."
The two young men, nearly implicated in the crime of insulting royalty, covered Isabella's mouth in horror.
"Are you kidding right now? Don't you know what kind of problems will arise if you say that, senior?"
"But other than this..."
"Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Let's only think happy thoughts. Happy thoughts."
Matthew clutched his head and sank to the ground, fighting fiercely with something. And Patrick sighed and spoke. He knew that the mental world of this woman, who was both a princess and a senior, was a bit strange.
In the first place, chasing after a junior like a leech and begging for a spar wasn't normal.
But...
"What's the reason you're trying to learn the sword to such an extent? You're a princess, aren't you, senior?"
"It's a bit much for me to say this, but it's not like swordsmanship is part of bridal lessons. What's a princess going to do by being good with a sword? It doesn't seem like a very useful skill for your life, senior."
Patrick's words were sharp, but they were also undeniably true. A princess being skilled with a sword isn't a plus factor. Rather, when used as material for a political marriage, it could actually work as a negative.
If the other man had a patriarchal personality, he would be reluctant to marry a strong-willed woman. But in Isabella's case, there was a problem.
"I have to become strong. Otherwise..."
"Otherwise?"
A serious worry was revealed on Isabella's face. Seeing her expression, which seemed to find it difficult to say something, it certainly seemed like she had some circumstances.
'So what?
Who in this world doesn't have their own circumstances?' Everyone has them. Even children who steal bread on the street have the circumstance of 'Because I'm hungry.'
In fact, such circumstances would be much more desperate. But if he were to help everyone just because they had their reasons, would that even be Patrick? The ones who do such things are...
[You rascal. What makes people different from beasts is that they have compassion!]
'That's why you were called a pushover, Master.' It was the nagging he had heard countless times in his previous life. A Master who couldn't stand not helping pitiful people, and his first disciple trying to stop his Master's meddling.
It was to the point that there wasn't a day at the Twin Dragon Sect where the two didn't argue. And what the Master always emphasized to Patrick was that damned compassion. On top of that, there was another similar person.
[Hahaha. The newly arrived fief residents don't have jobs yet, do they? What can I do when the children are crying from hunger?]
'Father. Father.
This hopeless father of mine.' No matter what, how could you just give away the reserve grain to refugees? Thinking about the hell I went through trying to hurriedly replenish it...
'Anyway, I'm different from those pushovers.'
"Begging without even giving a proper reason is... oh. Wait a minute, senior, are you crying?"
"... Hic..."
It seemed she was trying to hold back her tears, but they ended up seeping out anyway. At that, Patrick too was greatly flustered. A woman's tears were a powerful weapon, whether in the martial world or on the Pangemonia Continent.
It was even more so if she was royalty.
"Don't cry. There, there!"
"... S-sob... sob..."
"Hey, I said don't cry! You're making me look like the bad guy."
"I think that's right."
"You be quiet!"
Patrick yelled at the quietly muttering Matthew to shut him up. Then Matthew grumbled something under his breath.
"It's not like I said anything wrong... so sensitive..."
That one...
I thought he was developing some grit lately, but it seems he's developing a rebellious streak along with it. It would probably be true friendship to teach him a lesson one day and shrink that swollen liver of his. 'More importantly, right now...'
"Hic..."
"Ah, don't cry, senior. Here, peek-a-boo!"
"I'm not a child..."
"If you're not a child, then stop crying!"
There's something truly strange. When tears come out from feeling wronged and resentful, the words that accelerate those tears are precisely 'Don't cry.' The moment they hear those words, the crying person realizes they've been caught crying, and at the same time, their sorrow gets a boost, and the volume from their tear ducts greatly increases.
Well, in a word...
"Sob... hic... sob sob..."
It means they start bawling. Patrick was greatly flustered. He had been through all sorts of things in his past life, but he had never made a princess cry right in front of him.
If others were to see her shedding tears nonstop in front of him, wiping them away with her hands without rest...
'Treason?
Insulting the royal family?' This was a problem. A serious problem.
He knew that most of the world's problems could be solved by beating them up, but a crying woman was an exception to that rule. In the end, Patrick made a decision before this difficult situation could be seen by others.
"Alright, alright. I'll teach you the sword."
"Hic... Really?"
"Yes. I'll teach you. So stop crying. If you cry, I won't teach you."
"... What's the payment?"
"That, I will most certainly collect... as a post-payment."
In Patrick's life, unpaid labor could not exist. Isabella thought for a bit, then spoke.
"... Se..."
"No, not that!"
What kind of princess was this? It was Patrick's first time dealing with a princess in his life, but he was certain that this was definitely not a normal princess. And so, the number of people Patrick had to teach increased by one.
A princess, at that. It was an unscheduled affair, so he sighed a little, but he decided to think of it positively. 'Tsk, still, she's a princess.
If I pick her up now, I'm sure I can put her to good use someday.' Patrick, thinking of it so simply, did not know. What kind of situation this would later cause.