Chapter 135. Get Out, You Bastards (1)

Patrick, who had witnessed the reconciliation between Alex and Garcia, spoke.

“How heartwarming.”

“Haha. Is that so?”

“Tsk, heartwarming things make me nauseous and give me hives.”

“……”

What on earth was this bastard?

It became more curious to know where the bottom of his personality was than how high his mastery of the sword was.

“Anyway, if you're done with your business, you can leave now.”

At the sight of Patrick waving his hand dismissively, the Sword Saint couldn't help but sigh.

What kind of shabby treatment was this?

The Sword Saint, who had never been treated like this in his life, suppressed his miserable feelings and spoke.

“May I give you one piece of advice?”

“I hate it when old people nag under the guise of giving advice, it’s my twenty-sixth most hated thing.”

“Ah! Why does a young man hate so many things!”

As expected of the Sword Saint.

He was the first person to point this out openly.

“It's my business.”

Though it had no effect.

The Sword Saint put his hand to his forehead and said.

“Just listen. Listen.”

“Tsk, go ahead and try.”

The Sword Saint let out a deep sigh and continued.

“The Empire has officially offered you the title of Count. And also proposed an engagement with the princess.”

“Re! Ject!”

It was Patrick, who firmly refused by crossing his hands in an X.

The others' mouths dropped open at the sight.

What did they just hear?

A title from the Empire?

A countship?

And an engagement with the princess?

They were giving that to that crazy bastard?

Why?

Had the emperor gone mad?

And that crazy bastard even refused it?

Why on earth?

It was a series of incomprehensible events, but the Sword Saint spoke as if he had expected it.

“Alright. Then that's that.”

“You give up quite refreshingly.”

“I am merely conveying His Majesty's offer, so there is no reason for me to be disappointed.”

“Is that okay? Won't you get scolded by the emperor?”

“Who? The emperor? Me?”

Ah, right, you're the Sword Saint.

In terms of fame and power within the Empire, he was a figure who had nothing to be desired from the emperor.

Patrick was quickly convinced.

Even the strict sect leaders of the Nine Sects One Gang could not rashly reprimand the top master of their sect.

And the Sword Saint continued.

“To be honest, I was not personally inclined to it either.”

“Is that so?”

“I am not keen on turning a young man who should be growing into a tool of power.”

“That's true.”

“And you becoming a member of our Empire's royal family is not just a tragedy, but a catastrophe. What sin did the princess commit?”

“Hey, this old man.”

“What? Why? Am I wrong?”

“Kkeueung….”

Even when Patrick thought about it himself, "Royal Family member Patrick Schneider" didn't fit.

That's why he refused it in a heartbeat.

The Sword Saint smirked at Patrick and then said with serious eyes.

“From now on, many people will approach you with sweet offers. Power, wealth, honor, and countless other temptations will try to lure you in.”

“I know.”

Did he think I would have won without knowing that?

It was a fact that Patrick was well aware of.

“Never be swayed. Power is like a sweet poison, once you get a taste of it….”

“It corrupts people.”

“……”

“I am well aware of that fact.”

‘I probably know better than you.’

It was something he had realized to the point of being sick of it while being active in the Murim Alliance.

A noble monk.

A proud Taoist.

The scion of a prestigious family.

He had already fully realized how dirty and despicable they could become when fighting over a handful of interests and power.

Patrick smirked and said.

“I know what you're worried about. But to put it bluntly, it's a needless worry.”

“……”

“Whether the world is dirty or clean, I am me.”

“……”

“I just need to keep that in mind.”

A smile formed on the Sword Saint's lips at Patrick's words.

Different.

Definitely….

‘This guy is different.’

Perhaps his grandson had found a goal he could never catch up to for the rest of his life.

Whether that would be a blessing or a curse, only time would tell.

The Sword Saint took out a small medal from his bosom and held it out.

“Take this.”

“What is this?”

“It is a kind of guarantee and a mark. A few of my close associates and disciples have one.”

“I said I’m not becoming a disciple.”

“Just take it.”

“……”

Seeing Patrick's sullen face, the Sword Saint smiled bitterly and said.

“The one who holds that has my personal guarantee of their identity.”

“Huh? Does that mean…?”

“If you use the Sword Saint's name as you please, wouldn't it be easier to shake off the flies?”

“Ooh. So is this like a Gratitude Token?”

“What is that?”

“Hehehe. A Gratitude Token. How long has it been since I received one?”

A Gratitude Token.

It was a kind of mark given by a sect when they received a great favor, meaning 'we will definitely repay you later.'

In his previous life, Radiant Dragon Great Master Jin Cheon received a lot of these.

He was so active all over the place and had indebted people in a way no one could deny, so they had no choice but to give them.

But gradually, people tried not to give Patrick a Gratitude Token.

Because everyone who gave the Radiant Dragon Great Master a Gratitude Token, without exception….

[I would rather have died back then. If I had known I would bring such sin to my sect, I would have just died back then….]

They showed such reactions.

When given a Gratitude Token, one should know how to refuse it sometimes, but Radiant Dragon Great Master Jin Cheon did not hesitate to pull out the very pillars of the opposing sect.

In fact, he had actually pulled one out once.

So an unwritten rule was created in the martial world.

It is better to just die than to give a Gratitude Token to the Radiant Dragon Great Master.

That is what is beneficial to the sect.

The Sword Saint, who had no way of knowing this, had just given Patrick a token with his name on it.

Patrick smiled slyly as he looked at the shiny gold medal.

‘Hehehe, the Sword Saint's Gratitude Token, no, a token, is it? How should I use this?’

The value of this token, symbolizing the Sword Saint's guarantee, was extraordinary.

Wasn't it tantamount to permission to use the Sword Saint's name as he pleased?

Apart from his skill with the sword, the authority brought by the name of the Sword Saint, which he had built up as the strongest knight on the continent, was absolute.

Although Patrick had won the Arcana with an extraordinary result, when comparing fame alone, the Sword Saint was overwhelming.

If he used the Sword Saint's name….

“Hehehe. For real, right? No take-backs.”

For a moment, seeing Patrick's wicked expression, the Sword Saint seriously considered whether he should take it back.

However….

‘If I have a debt, I should repay it.’

Thanks to the battle with this young man, his precious grandson had grown significantly.

The poison of arrogance and conceit had been drained, and he had realized how long and arduous the path he had to walk was.

Above all, there was no longer any submission or servility in his grandson's eyes when he looked at him.

The shortcomings that he thought might never be fixed for the rest of his life had all disappeared.

Compared to this debt….

“Yes. Use it as you please.”

“Ooooh. As expected of the Sword Saint. You’re so generous.”

“……”

“Just for reference, how far does the guarantee of this medal go? What’s the limit for a collateral loan?”

No, should I really take it back?

* * *

“Ah…. so warm.”

Patrick’s gaze as he looked at the treasures piled up in front of him was nothing short of benevolent.

It was extremely rare for the emotion of benevolence to appear on this man’s face, but it was understandable now.

“Wooooow….”

“How much is all that?”

“It's too much. Really too much.”

“The world is rotten.”

In front of Patrick's eyes, without a single exaggeration, was a pile of treasure taller than a person.

It was a sight as if they had found the hidden treasure of a legendary pirate.

Amazingly, this enormous treasure was 'voluntarily' offered to Patrick Schneider to get on his good side.

To the other companions, this was something that should never have happened.

“Uhehehe. Treasure. Treasure. I'm rich now.”

Especially seeing that sight made that thought even stronger.

To think that bastard, who was burrowing into the pile of treasure and coming out here and there like a rabbit digging a hole, had obtained both wealth and fame.

“This isn’t right. This isn’t right.”

“We need a revolution. A revolution to change this rotten world….”

“O Yupinel. You are listening to me, right?”

Patrick, sitting on top of the pile of treasure, said to his seniors who were lamenting about him.

“Tsk tsk tsk, this is why the poor are always poor. They don't think about working hard themselves and always waste their lives being jealous of the rich. That's why there's no progress.”

At those words, the seniors collectively flared up.

“Hey. Who are you calling poor?”

“My family is rich too.”

“Even Princess Isabella is here!”

“The Rowensky family's fiefdom is ten times the size of your fiefdom!”

To the seniors' claims, Patrick, with a fan he had picked up from somewhere, fanned himself elegantly and said.

“Tsk tsk, is that your money? It's your family's money.”

“Keuk….”

“Damn it….”

That was true.

Patrick, fanning himself gently, said with a very smug face.

“You good-for-nothings who have never earned a single cooper coin with your own strength. To be jealous of the success story of this Patrick Schneider, who became rich through his own hard work.”

His words were right.

Very sadly, the words themselves were all correct.

That was what was so sad and sorrowful.

“Eing. This is why they’re poor…. Here, take this and get lost.”

Patrick threw a coin at his companions.

In this dirty and desperate reality, Alex and the others placed their hands on the floor, bowed their heads, and knelt.

“Uhehehehehe. I always wanted to do something like this!”

The truly vulgar laughter of Patrick echoed in their ears.

“Schneider-gun.”

At that moment, Professor Leyte came in and said.

“Ah! You called, Professor.”

To Patrick who ran up to him, Professor Leyte said.

“The mages from the Tower of Truth and the elves have come again.”

“I said I'm not meeting them.”

Patrick had met many guests and collected money so far, but he had not met with the big shots who were too large.

But even so, the Tower of Truth and the elves of Evergreen persistently tried to have a meeting with Patrick.

“They are begging to meet you. Can’t you do something about it?”

As Professor Leyte spoke with a pleading expression, Patrick scratched his cheek and said.

“Will it be a big problem if I don't meet them and just leave?”

“Seeing how they're acting, if you don't meet them here, they seem ready to follow you to the kingdom.”

“Tsk, what leeches.”

The mages of the great Tower of Truth were being treated like leeching stalkers.

“I have no choice. I guess I'll have to meet them once. Tell them to come.”

“Thank you.”

Professor Leyte, who had been caught in the middle and whose blood was drying up day by day, let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

A little while later.

Old men wearing robes and holding staffs, along with the Magic Swordsmen to escort them, entered.

One of them came forward as a representative and said.

“Nice to meet you. I am Hausen Berkman, who has come down from the 6th floor of the Tower of Truth.”

“Hello. I am Patrick Schneider.”

“Yes. I heard you were busy, have you finished your business?”

“More or less.”

He had collected enough money.

Now he had to go home, but before that, he felt he had to deal with the leeches, so he held this meeting.

“So? What brings you here?”

When Patrick spoke as if telling him to get to the point, the mage named Hausen said.

“There are a few things I would like you to tell me.”

“Ask away. Ah, you know it’s up to me whether I answer or not, right?”

At Patrick's words, the other person sighed and said.

“About the ma… sword… keuheum….”

They hadn't even concluded whether it was magic or swordsmanship yet.

Even though three mages had debated heatedly with red faces.

So the word they had compromised on was….

“I want to ask about that technique.”

“Technique? What technique?”

When Patrick asked as if he didn't know what he was talking about, Hausen explained specifically.

“The technique of controlling a sword in mid-air and the technique of summoning a demonic beast with aura to attack the enemy.”

“Aaaah. You mean that.”

“Yes. I requested this meeting to ask you to tell me about it.”

“Hahaha. I see.”

“Hahaha. That’s right.”

In a friendly atmosphere, the two looked at each other and laughed.

And Patrick, with a smiling face, pointed to the exit with his thumb and said.

“Get out, you bastards.”

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