Chapter 71 : Chapter 71

Chapter 71. Hello, Kids (3)

“Come.”

“Here I come.”

“I’m ready.”

“Then I’m coming. I’m really coming.”

“You talk too much…. Keuk.”

Kaaang!

He disappeared and then reappeared.

Professor Leyte, facing him head-on, could only feel it that way.

There was no precursor, no preparatory motion.

He simply disappeared and, when he reappeared, Patrick was right in front of him.

And a sharp attack flew in.

Although he managed to block it with his longsword, he was so startled by the unconventional speed that he had to take a large step back. But….

‘No, I can’t. If I retreat…’

He couldn't create distance from Patrick.

Professor Leyte, having made a quick judgment, suppressed his instinct to retreat and forcibly moved his foot forward.

It was foolish to create distance when facing an opponent faster than oneself.

Only forward.

He just had to move forward.

“Haaap!”

With a powerful shout, Professor Leyte’s sword drew a disciplined trajectory and attacked Patrick.

‘Oh, not bad.’

Patrick was impressed.

He had instinctively taken a step back upon seeing his speed, but right after, he had come forward.

Pushing forward without creating distance against a faster opponent was the standard and correct judgment.

However, to actually execute that judgment with one's body required courage and skill.

Professor Leyte’s sword, swung while moving forward, was slower than Patrick’s, but it had discipline instead.

It was a formal swordsmanship that suited the phrase, ‘This is the foundation of the sword.’

A solid lower body with an unshakable central axis even while moving step by step.

A relaxed upper body that allowed for flexible and smooth movements.

The sword swung by Professor Leyte from within that form was like a feast of perfectly polished basics, meant for use in real combat.

‘Ahem…. So there are guys like this on the Continent of Pangemonia too. This is what a master is. This is a master.’

For Patrick, Professor Leyte was the first 6-star knight he had encountered in this world.

Strictly speaking, April was also a 6-star, but April’s sword was not the sword of Pangemonia but the sword of the Twin Dragon Sect that Patrick had taught her.

So it was a sword Patrick knew well, and there was nothing to be particularly impressed about.

But Professor Leyte’s sword was the first purely Pangemonian master’s sword that Patrick had encountered.

In Patrick’s eyes, Pangemonian swordsmanship seemed simple to the point of being crude, but the man standing before him now was one who had reached a certain level of mastery by ceaselessly polishing that crude swordsmanship.

‘Should I say it’s somewhere between the Namgung Clan and the Qingcheng Sect?’

The sword of the Namgung Clan, which represented the heavy sword.

The sword of the Qingcheng Sect, which symbolized the fast sword.

It was a swordsmanship that was subtly positioned somewhere between those two swords.

Was that why?

A word of regret came from Patrick’s mouth.

“A bit of a shame.”

“Huh?”

“What is it you want to do?”

“…What do you mean…. Keuk.”

Kaaang!

Patrick, who had been retreating while blocking Professor Leyte’s sword, launched his first counterattack.

Patrick, who had widened the gap with Leyte through that counterattack, said.

“I’m asking what you want to do with the sword.”

“What I want to do? With the sword?”

“No, let me ask something more basic. What do you think the sword is?”

“……”

Leyte closed his mouth.

What is the sword? A sword is a sword.

The weapon of a knight.

But Patrick’s question now seemed to be asking something different, beyond that simplicity.

A part that he, no, the swordsmen of the Continent of Pangemonia had never once thought about.

“It seems you’ve never thought about it.”

“……”

Professor Leyte’s face flushed.

He could feel a slight sense of pity in the expression Patrick was directing at him now.

For some reason, that was extremely embarrassing.

He even felt like a child caught by his parents after making a mistake in his childhood.

And Patrick nodded his head and said.

“If you don’t know, then I should teach you. What the sword is. What the Way of Martial Arts is.”

“……”

“The sword is…”

Patrick’s sword was swung.

The moment he saw the trajectory of that gracefully yet precisely swung sword, Professor Leyte was astonished.

‘Is this my swordsmanship?’

He could clearly feel his own swordsmanship in the sword of Patrick, who was wielding two longswords.

How could he, who used a single sword, and Patrick, who used two, use the same swordsmanship?

‘It doesn’t make sense.’

As if to mock such a question, Patrick perfectly embodied Leyte’s swordsmanship and pushed him back. And at the same time, words flowed from his mouth.

“The root of the sword is a weapon, a deadly instrument to protect oneself and kill the enemy.”

“Keuk…”

“But what determines how that weapon will be used is ultimately a person’s will.”

“Uut…”

Patrick’s sword grew faster and faster.

Leyte, while blocking the sword, could not advance further and only kept retreating.

April, watching the scene from a distance, nodded her head.

‘He’s excited for the first time in a while.’

She had seen Patrick like this before.

It was a sight he had shown in the past when he would occasionally teach her one-on-one.

Advice and trials to guide a promising talent when he found one.

April knew well what a great fortune that was for someone who trained the sword.

She decided to survey her surroundings and prevent anyone else from approaching.

Because this important moment must not be disturbed.

“Sometimes, swiftly…”

Kkaang!

The sword turned into a flash of light.

He didn't block it because he knew it was coming, but because his opponent had intentionally struck his sword.

“Sometimes, with weight.”

Kuuung!

“Keuk…”

It was a heavy attack, as if a giant battle hammer was crushing down.

He blocked it, but the palm of the hand holding the sword was torn.

“Sometimes, softly.”

A sword? Is this also a sword?

The sword, which should have been made of steel, was swung as softly as a whip.

Swung? No, this was a usage that should be described as ‘flowing.’

How could a sword made of hard iron move so softly?

Seureureuk.

The sword that flowed in such a way wrapped around Professor Leyte’s sword and sent it flying straight up into the sky.

Chaeeng!

“……”

Leyte stared blankly at Patrick.

He couldn't do anything.

No, it wasn't a matter of could or couldn't, this was now….

“As you can see. The sword contains these various possibilities and shows different forms depending on the direction of the one training it.”

“…Ah…. Um…. That…”

“But!”

Patrick cut his words off sharply.

And he looked at Professor Leyte as if to rebuke him and said.

“To not decide on a direction amidst such various possibilities is like drifting aimlessly in the vast ocean. First and foremost, clarifying what one wants to do and pursuing that goal correctly is the proper attitude for one who trains the sword.”

“……”

“Speed, power, technique, change, timing.”

“……”

“There is nothing that is not important, but even among them, one must be clear about what their goal is. But you have lost your way and are wandering in the direction of speed and power.”

“Lost my way? Me?”

“That’s right. First, decide on your own path and devote yourself to it. Then, in that process, other things will naturally be pursued as well.”

“Goal, direction, the path one wants to take…”

Professor Leyte’s eyes changed.

What was his gaze, which had blurred and lost its focus, looking at?

What he was seeing was his own inner self.

The sword he had swung countless times without thought until now.

The sword he had just swung diligently, as he had learned, according to the basics.

At first, that would have been right.

But what had he gained from a sword that was just mindlessly repeated without any direction?

Faster speed?

More refined techniques?

An increasing amount of aura?

‘It's meaningless. If there is no goal, the means themselves are not even necessary. I…. I was wrong.’

The moment he realized that fact, the energy in the aura hole in Leyte’s dantian rose upwards.

The energy that rose past his lower abdomen and upwards settled in his heart, then knocked on the door of another space that existed there.

“Ah…. Aaaah…”

Leyte trembled.

This was it. This was how it should have been.

Why didn't I know?

How much time had he wasted not knowing this simple thing?

Two streams of clear tears flowed down Professor Leyte’s cheeks.

By the time those tears, mixed with regret and joy, flowed down his cheeks, past his chin, and reached the ground….

“Ah…. Aaaah…”

The energy that had risen from his lower dantian settled in his middle dantian.

And Leyte, as if possessed, picked up his sword that had fallen to the ground and infused his energy into it.

Uuuuung.

Aura overflowed from the sword.

An energy far clearer and mightier than before formed on the sword.

But now, it felt like he could do more than this.

‘The flowing aura…. controlled as one.’

At that moment, the aura that had formed on the sword condensed, increasing its density. And then….

Pachiing!

A brilliantly shining sword of light was there.

Aura Blade.

The proof of the 7-star realm, the stage of ultimate mastery.

“Oh…. Ooooh…”

The second 7-star swordsman of the Kingdom of Atronia had appeared in this place.

“Well, that’s to be expected.”

Patrick smirked as he looked at the emotionally overwhelmed Professor Leyte.

Considering the basics ingrained in his body and the energy he felt, he was someone who should have been able to do that long ago.

But the swordsmen of this Continent of Pangemonia lacked a sense of purpose regarding the sword.

Namgung, which pursued the heavy sword.

Qingcheng, which pursued the fast sword.

Mount Hua, which pursued the illusory sword.

The Peng Clan, which pursued the path of the hegemon.

Wudang, which pursued the Taiji.

In the Jianghu, these were things that everyone knew, even those who hadn't specifically learned martial arts.

In the territory of the Wudang Sect, even the kids in the back alleys would play by drawing circles in the air with wooden sticks, shouting, ‘Hiyah! Taiji Sword Art!’

In the territory of the Mount Hua Sect, kids would play by drawing flower pictures with wooden sticks, saying, ‘Twenty-four Plum Blossoms, something something.’

‘It was a sight that made my stomach ache, thinking how great the influence of those so-called prestigious orthodox sects was, but on the other hand, it meant that presenting and pursuing a direction in martial arts was just common sense in the Jianghu.’

That obvious common sense was absent here.

Just diligently.

Just faithfully.

Just steadily.

The swordsmen of this continent were those who swung their swords ignorantly, believing that if they did so, they would one day reach a higher realm.

In Patrick’s eyes, it was beyond pathetic; it was absurd.

So he gave him some advice.

Leaving aside the relationship of professor and student, it was advice given out of pity for a junior who was wandering like a small boat adrift on the vast ocean that was the sword.

It wasn't often that Patrick would do something like this, but this time….

‘Well, it was just a whim.’

He did it just because he felt like it.

There was no special meaning behind it.

How did Professor Leyte react to such a Patrick?

Teolseok!

“Thank you.”

He knelt down, bowed his head, and expressed his gratitude to Patrick with the utmost respect.

“Is it okay for a knight to kneel just like that?”

“Except in front of royalty, this is the first time I have kneeled of my own accord.”

“Waaah…. What expensive knees.”

Although it was a playful voice, Professor Leyte could not feel any disrespect in that voice.

No matter what Patrick said or did, everything about him began to feel special.

Is this how priests feel when they receive an oracle?

He even had such a thought.

To such a Professor Leyte, Patrick waved his hand and said.

“Well, you don’t have to be that thankful. I just placed a cornerstone on the foundation you’ve already laid.”

“If you hadn’t placed that cornerstone, I would have been wandering for decades more, wouldn’t I?”

“Well, that’s…”

“Leaving aside the relationship of professor and student, as one swordsman, I express my deepest gratitude. I have received a grace I can never repay in my lifetime.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“I seeeeeeee?”

The corners of Patrick’s mouth curled up into a long smile.

“You’ve received a grace? Then you’ll have to repay it, won’t you?”

“That is, of cour…se… it is, but.”

Professor Leyte’s eyes shook severely.

Until just a moment ago, he had been feeling the same kind of emotion as a believer receiving the gospel.

But the protagonist of that oracle being bestowed upon him was a bit….

“Hahaha. Then you’ll have to listen well to what I say from now on, right? Since I am your bene-fac-tor.”

“That… is… cor-rect?”

“Mm-hmm, good attitude. A good attitude. If one has received a grace, one must naturally repay it. Yes, of course.”

“……”

What is this? This feeling that I’ve gotten myself into something bad?

Should I back out now?

The emotion of having achieved the 7-star realm, the stage of ultimate mastery, slowly faded away, and in its place, an anxiety of ‘I don’t think this is right’ began to creep in.

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