Chapter 79 : Chapter 79

Chapter 79. I Hereby Name It the Sunrise Cut (3)

How fast must he have run?

Patrick's hair was soaked with sweat, and his breathing was slightly ragged.

Patrick's hand was holding Zordic's wrist, restraining him, and thanks to that, Zordic's sword was stopped in front of Matthew's neck.

“Patrick…”

At that sight, Matthew was moved.

“Yik…. yiiik…. this punk…”

Zordic was greatly flustered.

He used all his strength to pull his captured wrist away. But….

‘It won't budge.’

He had only been grabbed by the wrist, but he couldn't do anything.

Forget his arm not moving, his entire body wouldn't budge.

In the end, as he gritted his teeth and glared at Patrick….

“What are you glaring at? Want me to pop your eyeballs out? Aren't you going to look at me nicely? Or else I'll just!?”

In an instant, Zordic flinched and averted his gaze.

The anger that had soared to the point where he wouldn't have cared if he had committed murder in the Academy quickly subsided in the face of raw madness.

And Patrick, still holding Zordic's arm, pulled him back and sent him flying.

“Uoooooot!?”

He flew like a doll stuffed with cotton.

The flying Zordic let out a scream, and the onlookers were astonished.

It was the first time even the students of the Knight Faculty had seen a person fly like that.

Crash!

And so, the flying Zordic was slammed into a corner of the training ground. Patrick didn't even glance in his direction and approached Matthew.

And then….

“Hey, are you okay? How did you end up like this?”

“Uh…. yeah. Well, that…”

“You damn bastards. You dare to touch my dear-est friend, Stew? You all want to die? You bastards!”

As Patrick threatened them, one of the 3rd graders said.

“We are your seniors.”

“So what? Do seniors not die?”

“……”

“If you touch my dear-est friend, whether you're a senior or a professor, you'll die equally.”

At the excellent no-fucks-given mindset, the 3rd graders' mouths fell open. And the 1st graders secretly looked at the 3rd graders and felt a sense of satisfaction.

‘Serves you right.’

‘Having a crazy bastard on your side is so reassuring.’

‘Good. Refreshing.’

Now then, at this point….

“My dear-est friend, Stew, are you okay?”

“My name is Matthew.”

“Alright. Matthew.”

“……”

“Oh, you've got some dirt on you. Let me brush it off for you with my own hands.”

“Uh…. uh uh…. thanks.”

Now, let's find out why this bastard is acting like this.

* * *

Turning back time a bit to Patrick's dormitory.

There, Patrick, who had heard that the 1st graders and Matthew had been captured, said nonchalantly.

“Ahem, don't guts sprout in the midst of adversity and trials?”

At those words, the flustered Laph frowned and said.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Serious. Completely serious.”

“…I misjudged you.”

“Really? Too bad.”

“I thought you were a person who had at least the minimum sense of justice as a knight, and the loyalty to care for a friend.”

“First of all, he's not my friend.”

“I know. You, a noble of an ancient fiefdom, and Matthew, a commoner, are of different statuses.”

“A noble of an ancient fiefdom…”

Patrick let out a sigh full of regret.

Did this bastard even know the situation of the Schneider fiefdom, which was even more barren than the barren East?

It was a place where, before Patrick stepped up and made it a more livable place, it was a common occurrence for dozens of people to be sacrificed to monsters periodically.

‘Well, you wouldn't know.’

In the end, isn't life something you live alone?

It wasn't as if getting sympathy from this guy would bring any money to the East, so Patrick just let it be.

And Laph continued.

“Matthew is a good guy. Although his status is low, he is a guy who is doing his best to become a knight.”

“Yeah. Right. I see.”

“Others know Matthew as just the son of a rich merchant family, but I know. That guy, more than anyone else, sincerely…”

“Wait, what did you say?”

Patrick changed his nonchalant attitude and cut Laph off. And he said….

“He's rich?”

“…Very. He's the son of the Elbador Merchant Guild.”

“The El…bador Merchant Guild? You mean, that Elbador Merchant Guild? The largest merchant guild in the kingdom? The Elbador Merchant Guild that has expanded its commercial influence beyond the Kingdom of Atronia to neighboring countries? The Elbador Merchant Guild whose name even I, who grew up in a remote village in the East, have heard of?”

“Is there another Elbador Merchant Guild in our country?”

“He's the son of that place?”

“You didn't know? Matthew's father is the head of the Elbador Merchant Guild. It's a fact that all the 1st graders know…. Ah, you entered mid-term.”

“……”

“Anyway, the important thing is that Matthew is a guy who is sincerely trying to become a knight. I've heard it before. The reason why that guy wants to become a knight…”

“Where is he?”

“…Huh?”

“Where is my friend Stew? Spit it out now. You're not going to? You want to die? Spit it out, you bastard!?”

“The train…. the training ground…. the 2nd training… ground.”

Patrick grabbed Laph by the collar and shook him, finding out where Matthew was. And then….

“I'm coming! Wait for me. My dear friend, Stew!”

Patrick, with madness in his eyes, ran towards the training ground at top speed.

To Laph, who was left behind as just an empty shell with his soul threshed out, April approached and said.

“Would you like some tea?”

“……”

It was April, trying to be faithful to her duty as a butler.

Anyway, and so….

“Rest assured now. Matthew, I, your most dear-est friend, will help you.”

“Patrick…”

Until a little while ago, it was Patrick who wouldn't even call him by his proper name.

But to come now and call him a dear friend, a gullible idiot who would be fooled by this and be moved….

“Thank you. For coming here like this for me.”

There was one.

There really was one.

Unfortunately.

Patrick smiled brightly and said.

“It's a natural thing to do for a friend. Isn't it?”

“Patrick…”

Justice is dead in this world.

How can one handle this tragic scene where the meeting of a rich gullible idiot and a money-hungry ghost trying to fleece him is being packaged as a beautiful friendship and trust?

Even if a demon came to this place, they would say, ‘Wow. That's possible,’ and apply for a class to learn a thing or two.

But just then….

“You damn bastard!”

There was someone who intervened to break up this scene.

Well, it was a bit hard to say that this one was particularly just either.

Seeing Zordic approaching with a full-blown killing intent, Patrick stood up and showed his sturdy back to Matthew, saying.

“You are…. uh, what was your name again?”

“Keuk…”

In an instant, Zordic felt something well up from deep inside his body.

Seeing that, Matthew, who was behind him, said.

“Isn't that Senior Zordic Panola?”

“Ah, right. That was his name. I'm terrible at remembering people's names.”

“Yeah. You are.”

Matthew, who had been called Stew continuously until just a little while ago, had no choice but to agree.

Patrick said with an wronged expression.

“No, it's possible not to know. How many times have I seen him? And his hairstyle has even changed.”

“Keoeok…”

Is this what it feels like when your internal organs hurt?

Zordic had a look on his face as if he had been struck in the solar plexus by every one of Patrick's words.

And Patrick's mouth burst open without restraint.

“I cut it so nicely for you, why did you shave it all off? Don't tell me you didn't like it?”

“……”

Zordic, trembling, refused to talk to Patrick any longer.

‘A sword…. I have to fight him with a sword. I can't win with words.’

In fact, he couldn't win even if he fought with a sword.

He had been beaten once in the spar during the day, and then again when he was thrown, making it twice, hadn't he?

So it wasn't as if Zordic didn't know he couldn't win.

However, that was when they fought fairly, skill against skill….

Zordic drew his sword, aimed it at Patrick, and said.

“Patrick Schneider.”

“What is it?”

To Zordic, who was calling him while gritting his teeth, Patrick answered with an innocent expression.

Zordic's breathing became ragged with anger.

Indeed, Patrick knew well what to do to piss off the opponent the most at this moment.

Zordic said with bloodshot eyes.

“You will die here.”

“Why?”

“Answer my call. Isis!”

Zordic aimed his sword at Patrick and shouted loudly. Then….

Jjeojeong!

A terrifying cold energy erupted from his sword and flew towards Patrick.

Patrick was momentarily flustered by the intense cold that froze even the moisture in the air into crystals in the process.

“Ice Art?”

No, for that, it's a bit different…

More importantly, I have to dodge, no, if I dodge, Matthew behind me…

His thoughts were in a jumble due to the unexpected situation.

Patrick reacted a little later than usual and swung his sword.

Gwaaang!

Aura and cold energy clashed violently.

“The Ice Sword, Isis?”

“Isn't that the heirloom of the Marquis Panola family?”

“To think he'd use that?”

The other students who were watching were astonished.

The Ice Sword, Isis.

This was a famous sword within the kingdom.

It was an ancient artifact with an ice spirit sealed in it, an heirloom of the Marquis Panola family that could overwhelm enemies with extreme cold as its weapon.

Marquis Panola was a master who had reached the 6-star realm, but it was also said that if he wielded the Ice Sword, Isis, even transcendent beings who had reached the 7-star realm could not guarantee victory.

And that Isis was now in Zordic's hands.

‘Is he dead?’

‘Damn it, it finally happened.’

‘Now, whether we like it or not, we have to see it to the end…. huh?’

In an instant, the 3rd graders saw it.

The scene that was revealed as the mist of cold energy slowly cleared.

“What a…”

Gwajik. Gwadeudeuk.

Every time Patrick took a step forward, the ice crystals under his feet shattered.

“stupid trick.”

Patrick, who was now fully visible, had frost on various parts of his body, but he looked basically fine.

Even though he had been hit directly by the cold of Isis.

“Th…. this punk?”

To the flustered Zordic, Patrick said with a cold smile.

“From the looks of it, this extreme yin energy doesn't seem to be your ability, so is that weapon an artifact?”

Patrick also knew what an artifact was.

It referred to a weapon or equipment with magic engraved on it, created by ancient magicians.

The magic tools created by the magicians of today were just degraded versions made by getting the knack from what the ancient magicians had made.

It was said that among the ancient magic tools classified as artifacts, there were heirlooms of noble families, and even national treasures strictly managed by the royal family.

Perhaps that sword called Isis was one of them.

“They said it was ridiculously expensive. I can see why.”

Hearing about it and experiencing it firsthand are a bit different.

This blow had surprised even Patrick quite a bit.

The blow of Isis was reminiscent of the strike of a first-rate martial artist who had mastered a yin-cold type martial art to its peak in the past.

No, in terms of the purity of the cold energy, it seemed to have even more depth.

“Hmm…. So there was something like this?”

Patrick thought for a moment.

While being born and raised in this world, to be honest, he had a tendency to look down on the level of this world a little.

They would praise someone as a 3-star or whatever just for being able to draw out some sword qi, and if they drew out an Aura Blade, that is, Strong Qi, they would call it the ultimate realm or whatever.

The ultimate realm? A transcendent being?

That?

Among the 3,000 elite masters of the Unorthodox Alliance who had rushed to kill the Radiant Dragon Great Master, Jin Cheon, in his past life, about 500 of them were guys who could all draw out Strong Qi.

In the Jianghu, guys who could draw out Strong Qi and fly around were a dime a dozen, so what ultimate realm was that?

So it wasn't unreasonable for Patrick to look down on the level of this world. But….

“An artifact…”

This was something new.

For a snot-nosed brat like that to have injured this great Radiant Dragon Great Master just by holding a good weapon in his hand?

It was something that was absolutely impossible in the Jianghu.

Although the people of the Jianghu were also obsessed with things like divine weapons, the most important thing was still basic skill.

No matter how great a weapon one brought, whether it was a thousand-year cold iron sword or a saber made of meteoritic iron, it didn't stand out much among the masters.

When one reached the realm of cladding their weapon with Strong Qi, it didn't matter whether it was a rusty piece of iron or a divine weapon; it was all the same.

Having one was much better than not having one, but true masters just preferred the weapon they were used to.

‘But that thing…’

It was a weapon that clearly reduced the gap in skill.

A weapon that could emit extreme yin-cold energy just by holding it?

If something like that were to be released in the Jianghu, it would have truly caused a bloodbath.

And Patrick was also curious.

What was the limit of the performance of this weapon called an artifact?

Would it work on me too?

With a mind half curious and half competitive, Patrick stretched out a hand. And looking at the half-frozen Zordic, he said.

“What are you doing?”

“…Huh?”

“Come at me.”

The moment he said that, beckoning with his palm, Zordic choked up and shouted.

“Alright. If you wish for it, I will kill you. Isiiiiis!”

Zordic shouted loudly and swung his sword.

Then, blades of ice, imbued with extreme cold, flew fiercely towards Patrick.

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