Radiant Dragon’s Otherworldly Reincarnation

Chapter 124. Cut the Crap, You Bastards! (1)

“This is not good. Neil can't win.”

Antorius, the top talent of the Holy Theocracy, said with a frown as he watched the match.

“We don't know yet.”

“Right. Neil is holding on, isn't he?”

“You never know until the end, right? If it becomes a battle of stamina, Neil might turn the tables.”

At his companions' hopeful observations, Antorius frowned and said.

“You're saying that while looking at that?”

Where Antorius pointed, Neil was curled up, taking a one-sided beating.

Even when he tried to push the enemy away by emitting divine power, the enemy didn't budge at all.

Greatly increasing the strength of his armor and his body's recovery rate only increased the number of times he got hit.

“I don't know the reason, but divine power doesn't work on him.”

“Divine power doesn't work?”

“What does that….”

“I don't know the reason. But that's the fact.”

“Ummm….”

“If divine power doesn't work, then the match has to be decided by basic skills.”

Antorius clicked his tongue as he watched the match and said.

“Unfortunately, the difference is too great. Is this the difference between a knight who has trained purely in the sword and our Paladins who have trained in divine power simultaneously?”

The divine power of a Paladin is strong.

It has strong resistance to magic and curses and annihilates evil.

It also strengthens one's own defense, recovery, and stamina.

But on the other hand, if you look only at pure sword skills, excluding divine power, it's true that the skills of Paladins are slightly inferior to those of general knights.

Of course, Neil, as a representative of the Arcana, was a knight who had reached the 4-star level, but his opponent was clearly above that.

The match was one-sided, and Neil was just barely holding on.

“Amazing. If it weren't for this tournament, he'd be skilled enough to aim for the championship.”

Antorius purely admired Patrick's skill.

At that, his companions next to him said.

“Is that brat from the Kingdom of Atronia really that strong?”

“Other than me, none of us would stand a chance.”

“To think... that such a monster came from a weak nation like the Kingdom of Atronia.”

“It's amazing.”

And Antorius said to his companions.

“Throw away your pride. A genius can emerge from anywhere. Watch closely, acknowledge what needs to be acknowledged, and learn what can be learned. That man is an amazing man….”

While Antorius was speaking, Neil's defense was finally completely broken, and he collapsed.

And as Neil fell, Patrick didn't give him a chance to get up and began to beat him down in earnest.

“Die! Die, you bastard. Dieee!”

“Keok... W-wait….”

“I'm already in a bad mood, and you have the nerve to shoot demon-slaying energy at me!?”

“Keoheok. Kuaaak!”

“What? Are you like those bald bastards, curious to see if it works on me or not?”

“Bald bastards? What... Kuaaak!”

“You don't know? Does your life end if you don't know?”

“W-wait a moment... Keoook!”

“There's no ‘wait a moment’ in a fight!?”

Witnessing the gruesome scene of violence, Antorius looked at the companions next to him and said.

“Let's just acknowledge his skills. Only his skills.”

“……”

“……”

Patrick Schneider breaks through the third round.

His opponent was a rather promising talent from the Holy Theocracy, but when he ran into Patrick, there was no mercy.

“Is he even human?”

“No matter what, it's the third round….”

“What did we even expect in the first place?”

“A monster. A real monster.”

His companions watched Patrick's performance with expressions of disgust.

They had expected him to win, but this was beyond their expectations.

Didn't it just end with him beating his opponent one-sidedly?

Especially Isabella, who had directly experienced a Paladin's divine power, had an even worse expression.

She had found it difficult to even keep her balance under the pressure of that immense power, but Patrick acted as if it was nothing.

‘How can he do that?’

As a swordswoman, unable to contain her curiosity, she spoke to Patrick in a subtle voice.

“Hey, Patrick….”

“What?”

“How did you do that when you fought the Paladin earlier?”

“I beat him up.”

“No, not that... You didn't get pushed back by the pressure of the divine power at all and just acted normally, right?”

“Aaaah... that?”

“Yeah. That. Is there some kind of secret?”

“Of course, there is.”

As Patrick readily admitted there was a secret, Isabella's expression brightened.

And the others also perked up their ears to listen to what Patrick had to say.

“Curious?”

“Yeah. Will you tell me?”

Isabella, unlike her usual self, pleaded with Patrick with an awkward wink.

In her own way, she had made a desperate effort.

And as a reward for that effort, Patrick held out his palm and said.

“If you're curious, 5 gold.”

“……”

Of course.

Seeing Isabella's souring expression, Patrick said.

“What's with that look? That ‘I was wrong to have even a sliver of hope in this bastard’ look?”

“It's a look that says exactly that.”

“You're not even denying it.”

“Are you really not going to tell me?”

Patrick let out a deep sigh.

It would be troublesome if she started crying again.

‘She's a princess, so I can't just beat her up.’

Finally, a calm explanation came from Patrick's mouth.

“That thing called divine power is ultimately an energy created for the purpose of defeating evil.”

“That's true. Since it's the energy of a god.”

“In other words, it doesn't harm beings that are not evil. Or beings of its own kind.”

“Huh? Wait... is that possible?”

“I showed you, didn't I?”

Patrick said with a smirk.

“An energy with such a clear intention and purpose has a very obvious direction of power. If you don't resist it and just assimilate with it, you won't feel any pressure at all. It's possible for anyone who can place their ki under the control of their will.”

“So you used divine power?”

“No, that's not it….”

They're like people who can only take one when you give them ten....

Patrick calmly continued his explanation.

“My ki, no, I mean, by making the nature of my aura yield to the opponent without resisting….”

“That doesn't make sense. How can you change the nature of aura?”

“Listen carefully. Human will, on a small scale, affects one's own body, and further, it intervenes in the ki of all things, and if you go even further than that....”

“Wait, wait. So... let me ask again from the beginning. First....”

“First, listen. After you listen....”

***

About 15 minutes later.

“Cut the crap, you bastards! Just live your lives showing off your strength like you always do!”

This is what happens when people do things they're not used to.

“Ignorant fools. Chicken heads. Aigoo, so frustrating. Frustrating. I'd rather teach an Ogre Plum Blossom Sword Art than explain will to those things.”

His companions, who received Patrick's rebuke, pouted their lips with expressions full of dissatisfaction.

‘I mean, you have to say something that makes sense.’

‘Spouting some weird bullshit philosophy....’

‘You could have just said you didn't want to teach us from the beginning.’

‘Fraud.’

In fact, this was a natural course of events.

Conveying the enlightenment of martial arts through words was something even the masters of prestigious orthodox sects, who had established martial arts over generations, found difficult.

That's why when one reached the level of a Grand Elder in a prestigious orthodox sect, they would retire from the front lines and compile their martial arts into a secret manual.

Even if it was a secret manual, most of what others saw would just look like nonsensical ramblings.

Still, it was a very important task.

If they just left it behind like that, a smart or lucky person in a later generation would grasp the true meaning of those words and carry on their martial arts.

That's how difficult the transmission of martial arts was.

And this crazy bastard was going to do that?

In a world where the understanding and direction of martial arts were completely different?

It was an absolutely impossible task from the start.

“Ugh... How can the talents supposedly chosen from the kingdom be no different from those green-green bastards.”

“Green-green?”

“They exist. Kids who are probably working hard in our fief right now, going ‘Uoooargh’.”

“……?”

“If they've been slacking off on their training because I'm not there, when I get back, I'll hang them upside down, twist their limbs, and burn them at the stake.”

It became certain that whoever they were, they were pitiful beings.

Just then, Patrick looked at the match arena and said.

“Instead, pay attention to that guy. From your seniors' perspective, you'll have more to learn from him than from me.”

“Oh? Really?”

“That person, you mean?”

His companions paid attention to the match arena as Patrick said.

In their eyes, they saw the red-haired man, Cierion Baisus Yusef, who was just stepping into the arena.

His opponent was a representative from the Venator Empire.

“I am Nelson Zairo.”

“Cierion Baisus Yusef.”

After their introductions, the referee signaled the start of the match.

“Begin!”

At that, as if waiting, the one who rushed in first was the representative from the Venator Empire, a man named Nelson.

He quickly rushed in, trying to close the distance with Cierion.

The weapon his opponent was using was a two-handed sword of a bizarrely large size.

In that case, closing the gap was the correct answer.

However, in a real fight, the correct answer doesn't always work.

“Hup!”

With Cierion's short breath, his two-handed sword cut through the air and flew horizontally.

Even though he swung with the flat of the blade and not the edge, the attack, which flew at a terrifying speed, hit the enemy.

Kwaaaang!

At that moment, Gerard's brow twitched.

He had personally experienced just how monstrously powerful that attack was.

But this opponent was of a significantly higher level than Gerard.

“Hoooh….”

Cierion was impressed.

The opponent who should have been sent flying had blocked his attack and withstood it.

It wasn't that he did anything special.

He had simply activated his 5-star level aura to the maximum and blocked the attack with strength.

For a knight, it was the most orthodox of orthodox methods.

In that state, Nelson said.

“Not a chance. A simple, brutish attack like this won't.”

And he swung his longsword upwards, deflecting Cierion's two-handed sword.

Then, he charged forward, plunging into the opened space.

No, he had intended to move forward.

Kwaaaang!

“Keuuuut....”

The two-handed sword, which he had definitely swung upwards with all his might to deflect, fell on his head again.

It was still the flat of the sword and not the edge, but its power was much greater than before.

Along with the blue aura condensed on the sword, the force pressing down on him was also much stronger than before.

And Cierion, in that state, crushed his opponent.

Crack! Craaack!

“Keuuuk….”

The ground Nelson was standing on with both feet cracked.

An immense pressure.

It was a force that would have crushed a person like a cockroach if they weren't a 5-star level swordsman.

Seeing Nelson desperately holding on, Cierion said.

“What's wrong? Didn't you say a simple, brutish attack wouldn't work?”

“Keuk... You... what on earth is your level....”

Nelson realized.

This wasn't a difference in strength utilizing the advantage of the weapon.

It was a difference that could only be seen if the opponent's level was significantly higher than his own.

His level was a proficient 5-star.

In any other previous Arcana, he would have been skilled enough to aim for the championship.

To be toyed with like this, could it be....

“Could you be a 6-star?”

Towards Nelson, who was looking at him with an expression of disbelief, Cierion smirked and said.

“Let's just say that's the case.”

With that answer, neither confirming nor denying, Cierion put even more strength into his two-handed sword.

“W-waaaait!”

Craaack!

The sound of a promising swordsman from the Venator Empire being crushed was heard.

“W... Winner, Cierion Baisus Yusef.”

With the referee's voice, as Cierion sheathed his sword, his opponent, who had literally been crushed into the ground, was revealed.

He wasn't dead, as some consideration had been shown, but dozens of bones in his body must have been broken.

Cierion glanced at the sight with a cold gaze, then turned his back and walked away.

***

“How about it? Do you feel anything?”

After Cierion's match ended, Patrick asked his seniors for their impressions.

The answers that came back were....

“He's strong.”

“His aura level seems high too.”

“There seems to be an advantage with the weapon too. How can he not be strong when he swings that much weight at high speed?”

“In the end, the key is that he's strong, right?”

At his companions' answers, Patrick smiled and nodded.

“Yes. You saw well.”

For a moment, the seniors' expressions were colored with bewilderment.

“Huh? What did you say?”

“...Really?”

“You're not going to curse at us? You're not going to treat us like pathetic fools?”

“You're not going to insult us like you're looking at the biggest morons in the world?”

At that, Patrick said, as if he were wronged.

“Why are you making me out to be a bad guy? Anyone who hears this would think I'm a bad guy who's just looking for an excuse to bully his seniors.”

‘Were you not?’

‘Were you not?’

The four of them wanted to cry.

And Patrick clicked his tongue and said.

“You seniors saw the core of it. That Cierion fellow's….”

“He's a prince.”

“Ahem, the core of the prince's strength is nothing else. The physical strength trained to the extreme, the choice of weapon to utilize that strength, and the appropriate execution of techniques. That's all there is to it.”

“Is that so amazing?”

“Well, for a brat of that age, it is amazing. At least he has firmly established his own direction and has made efforts that match it.”

In Patrick's expression as he looked at Cierion, there was an uncharacteristic mix of slight admiration and pride.

“Weight, and strength. He must have focused his training on heaviness and destructive power. He has a clear goal he pursues and has made efforts that match it.”

Even with Patrick's explanation, the other companions had puzzled expressions.

And Kalin, unable to hold back his question, opened his mouth.

“What's so great about that?”

“Why? Doesn't it seem great?”

“Well... no, if I just listen to you, it just means he worked hard without getting distracted, but isn't that what everyone does?”

“Oh, is that so? Is that what you did?”

Patrick's expression soured.

And he began to speak, mimicking someone.

“Wow, Patrick. That's amazing. Divine power doesn't work on you? How do you do that? Wow. What was that just now, how do you do it? Teach me too. What was that just now? That thing you did to me, right? Teach me too.”

“……”

“……”

The seniors' faces collectively turned red.

And Patrick spoke with an expression as if he were looking at the most pathetic fools in the world.

“You didn't get distracted? You worked hard?”

“……”

“Hah, you conscienceless things. Are you aspiring to be knights? Or aspiring to be frauds?”

“……”

It was sorrowful.

It was sad.

Why does this bastard only pick things that prick one's conscience when he's bullying someone?