Chapter 109. It Doesn't Sound Right Coming From Me (2)

Arcana.

The great dragon of the sword, a dragon who fell in love with the sword and, through self-cultivation, created the system of Aura Blessing.

The Aura Blessing he developed was passed down from disciple to disciple.

And that became the foundation for all swordsmen who now wield aura.

A tournament created to honor him.

“That is what this Sword Dragon Festival, Arcana, is all about!”

At the Magellan King’s speech, cheers erupted from the audience filling the colosseum.

They were extremely excited by the fact that the glorious tournament was unfolding before their eyes.

In front of them were the representatives of each country, lined up in an orderly fashion in the colosseum.

“The atmosphere is…”

“Ahem… Don’t be intimidated.”

“Senior, your leg is shaking.”

“Umm…”

In that solemn and crushing atmosphere, the representatives of the Atronia Kingdom were already being overwhelmed.

Except for one person.

“Haaaaaam. He talks way too much.”

“Hey, hey, hey! You bastard.”

“Watch your mouth. Watch your mouth.”

“Just shut up!”

At Patrick’s single remark, the other seniors were startled and tried to stop him.

Even Professor Leyte, who was at the very front as the supervisor, flinched.

“Tsk, we just came here to swing swords, why are there so many formalities? Anyway, high-ranking folks have this obsession with looking cool no matter what they do.”

“Shut up, please just shut up!”

“No. Just die. Don’t get us involved and just die alone.”

Despite his seniors’ vehement protests, Patrick didn’t even bat an eye and just kept yawning languidly.

Even the representatives of other countries, who were at some distance, frowned at Patrick’s attitude.

Naturally, their glares were directed at the Atronia Kingdom.

‘How rude.’

‘How can people like that be representatives of a nation?’

‘Tsk, tsk, tsk, no wonder they never won in Arcana.’

Although they didn't say it, the gazes filled with their reproach and anger were felt all too clearly.

For the representatives of the Atronia Kingdom, a mentally draining time passed, and finally…

“…Then now, I declare the start of the Sword Dragon Festival!”

With the king’s declaration, the speech ended.

And as soon as the declaration was over, the representatives of the Atronia Kingdom descended from the platform faster than any other country’s representatives.

And the first thing Alex did was…

“You. Cra·zy. Bas·tard.”

To grab his junior by the collar and shake him.

“Why?”

“Why? Whyyyyy? You have the nerve to ask why?”

“I said it because the words came out.”

“That does make sense, you damn bastard!”

How can he only say things that are so correct?

In a way that makes you want to beat him up.

And it wasn’t just Alex who felt this way.

‘If only I had the skill…’

‘If only I could smack him on the back of the head just once…’

Was it possible for a human to be this annoying?

While they were realizing a new side of humanity, Patrick said nonchalantly.

“Alright. Are you a bit more relaxed now?”

“What… huh?”

Suddenly, Alex realized.

Patrick’s crazy antics had made his heart pound and probably shortened his lifespan by about 10 years, but in return…

‘The tension… is it gone?’

Just a moment ago, his whole body had been stiff with the pressure of Arcana finally starting.

But now, shaking Patrick by the collar, he didn't feel any tension at all.

“Don’t tell me you did that on purpose to loosen us up?”

“Well, it was a bit of both. The speech was actually boring as hell, too.”

“Kaaargh…”

Alex released his grip on Patrick’s collar.

And looking at Patrick bluntly, he said.

“Damn bastard.”

At the weak reproach, Patrick chuckled and said.

“Alright, let’s watch the match. As they say, watching a fight and watching a fire are the most fun things.”

And the gazes of Patrick and his comrades gathered on the arena in the center of the colosseum.

The opponents for the first match were a representative from the Venator Empire and a representative from the Harbor Kingdom.

“It’s not that friend who’s the Sword Saint’s grandson.”

At Patrick’s words, Alex, next to him, replied.

“Even so, the Empire is a nation that possesses the strongest knight force on the continent. He won’t be at a level to be taken lightly.”

“Well, there is a bit of a difference.”

Patrick looked at the two people who had stepped onto the platform and nodded his head.

In fact, just by looking at them, the match was already decided.

Unlike the representative of the Empire, who had relaxed his body and maintained a natural stance, the representative of the Harbor Kingdom was stiff all over.

It was uncomfortable enough to be in the first match of this huge tournament, but it seemed he was intimidated by the fact that his opponent was a representative of the Empire.

‘The Harbor Kingdom representative is mid-to-late 3-star, and the Empire side is at the tail end of 4-star?’

As far as Patrick could tell, there was a clear difference in their levels. And with the weaker side being nervous, the outcome of the match was obvious.

The referee called both of them to the center and said something.

And after the two separated at a distance…

“Begin!”

With the referee’s command, the representative of the Harbor Kingdom charged first.

“Uwaaaaaaaah!”

Seeing him rush forward with a powerful shout, Patrick covered his eyes with one hand as if he couldn’t bear to watch and said.

“I’m not looking. I can’t watch.”

That’s not an attack.

It’s the desperate struggle of a frightened weakling.

Like a cornered mouse biting a cat.

If a mouse bites a cat?

What happens next? What do you think will happen?

The fate of the mouse is obvious anyway.

“Dull.”

The representative of the Empire said that one short word and then moved smoothly.

Kwaaaang!

A powerful strike.

The aura squeezed out with all the might of a 3-star knight exploded on the arena floor.

But no matter how powerful, what’s the use if it only hits the floor?

The sword of the Empire’s representative, who had dodged that attack, had no aura, but it was accurately touching the neck of the Harbor Kingdom’s representative.

Seeing his opponent frozen by the cool sensation on his neck, the representative of the Empire said.

“Strength isn’t everything.”

And the referee, who had confirmed the situation, shouted.

“Patra Leopoldo of the Venator Empire wins!”

A single move.

Without taking long at all, the match was decided in a single move.

“Waaaaaah! As expected!”

“The Empire is the Empire.”

“He didn’t even use aura just now, right?”

“The level is different. The level is different.”

The audience was greatly excited by the first match that ended so quickly. In fact, they had thought the representative of the Empire would win, but they hadn't expected it to be so overwhelming.

The two representatives sheathed their swords, bowed to each other, and then returned.

On his way back, the representative of the Empire, Patra, raised the hand holding his sword, and at that action, the audience sent another round of fervent cheers.

“Oh my, what a great feat. What a great feat. Look at him being proud of a free win.”

Of course, Patrick was saying this.

Of course, even if they had fought properly, that guy named Patra or Patrasche or whatever from the Empire would have won.

But the reason it ended so absurdly was largely because his opponent was overly nervous and couldn't bring out even half of his own skill.

Patrick suddenly whipped his head around.

And to his flinching seniors, he said.

“Hey, seniors.”

“What?”

Seeing Patrick with flames burning in his eyes, no one was brazen enough to point out his manners here.

And Patrick gritted his teeth and said.

“I can understand losing, I can make a hundred concessions for that. But…”

Patrick pointed his thumb at the representative of the Harbor Kingdom, who was returning with slumped shoulders, and said.

“If you lose like that, you’re dead.”

The four seniors nodded their heads up and down in unison.

They had learned a good lesson from the very first match.

The matches continued.

Unlike the first match that ended anticlimactically, there were also duels that showed a fairly close contest.

Especially the battles fought by the holy knights of the Holy Theocracy or the magic swordsmen of the Tower of Truth were interesting even to Patrick.

“By Yupinel!”

Patrick showed interest in the battles of the holy knights who overwhelmed their enemies with the aura of divine power emanating from their entire bodies.

“Hoh… they use the energy to vanquish evil. Is it something like the Buddha's Universal Light of the Shaolin?”

The magic swordsmen who participated as representatives of the Tower of Truth also came across as novel to Patrick.

“Fire Storm!”

When he swung his sword, flames of fire shot out from it and engulfed the enemy.

The opponent tried to advance while blocking the attack with an aura-clad shield, but it looked difficult.

“Oh, even the guys from the Solar Palace can’t do that.”

There were masters who had learned the Scorching Sun Divine Art and could imbue their attacks with fire, but attacks that spewed flames like that were hard to see even in the martial world.

Seeing the impressed Patrick, the other representatives whispered among themselves.

“What on earth is he talking about?”

“How would I know?”

“You’re not supposed to understand a madman.”

“That’s right.”

* * *

And so the matches continued.

And finally, the first person to compete as a representative of the Atronia Kingdom emerged.

That person was none other than…

“Isabella Black Atronia!”

Isabella, whose name was called, stood up with her sword. And before climbing onto the platform, she glanced at Patrick and said.

“I’m going.”

“Yeah, do your best.”

And as she stepped onto the platform, her opponent came up.

“Patrick Enovier!”

The moment the name was called, the representatives of the Atronia Kingdom stirred.

“What-trick?”

“I didn’t mishear that just now, did I?”

“He did say Patrick, right?”

Their gazes fell on the original Patrick. At that, Patrick shrugged his shoulders and said.

“Why? You can run into someone with the same name in life, can’t you?”

That’s right. It could happen.

Setting aside why he had to meet that person with the same name at such a grand event as Arcana, it was indeed something that could happen.

Their gazes turned back to the tournament grounds.

There was Isabella, with her usual cold expression wiped away and her face full of fighting spirit.

‘Hmm… I understand.’

‘I would be the same.’

‘She must feel like she’s met her parents’ murderer.’

The representatives of the Atronia Kingdom fully understood her feelings.

Patrick Enovier.

He was a promising young man from the Kaisar Kingdom, who had reached the tail end of 3-star and was chosen as a representative for Arcana.

Of course, he knew that winning on his own skill was impossible.

In this world, there are geniuses of a different class than a somewhat talented person like himself.

But depending on the luck of the draw, couldn’t he aim to pass the second round?

Passing the second round of Arcana.

That alone was a sufficient achievement to solidify his future.

He, who had participated with a modest yet realistic goal, saw his first opponent, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

‘The Atronia Kingdom. How lucky.’

What was the Atronia Kingdom?

Wasn’t it the officially weakest nation on the continent, having failed to secure a single win in Arcana in the last 10 years?

The moment he met their representative as his opponent, a win was as good as guaranteed.

And seeing his opponent made him feel even better.

Who knows?

Maybe this was fate, and he could have a good relationship with that beautiful princess later on.

Thinking so, he spoke with the best smile and gentlest voice he could muster.

“Hahaha. It is an honor to cross swords with such a beautiful lady. Princess Isabella.”

It was Patrick, no, Fake Patrick, who greeted her elegantly as if he had met a beautiful lady in high society.

To have a guaranteed first-round victory and an encounter with a beautiful woman on top of that…

‘This must all be because I’ve lived a good life. Thank you, Yupinel.’

Well, I don’t know if Fake Patrick lived a good life or not. But what is certain is…

“You.”

“Yes?”

“You’re dead.”

“…Pardon?”

Why? Why are you suddenly saying that?

“Draw your sword and grit your teeth. I’m going to kill you.”

“No… but why?”

It’s unknown how Fake Patrick lived his life.

But what is certain is that in this world, there is also a Patrick who did not live a very good life.

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