Chapter 98. It Is the World and It Is Reality… (2)

Patrick understood why Aron was saying this.

How could he not?

The world and reality.

Words that Patrick had heard to the point of exhaustion in the past.

Seeing him run around trying to make the Twin Dragon Sect the number one sect in the martial world, others had scoffed.

Do you think that will work?

Do you think you can do it just by struggling on your own?

A prestigious sect is built on history and tradition.

Know reality and know your place.

To those who said such things, the Radiant Dragon Great Master Jin Cheon had proudly proven them wrong.

He built a legend of one hundred victories in one hundred battles, defeated countless leaders of the Unorthodox Alliance, and even the demonic practitioners who had thrown the world into chaos, drunk on blood, fell to Patrick's twin swords.

And in the end, he raised the Twin Dragon Sect to a position where no one could ignore it as a third-rate sect.

No matter what those around him said, Jin Cheon never once doubted his goal.

How was that possible, you ask?

“Does Matthew's effort seem meaningless to you, Guild Master?”

“Finding meaning in effort is the logic of failures. Effort only has value when it produces results.”

“That's exactly it.”

“Huh?”

“Kheuuhh. You know well. Why are you spouting such nonsense when you know so well?”

“What do you mean?”

To Aron, who didn't understand, Patrick said in a frustrated tone.

“Didn't Matthew produce results?”

“……”

“He produced the result of defeating his other peers and proudly winning in the mid-term assessment. So how is Matthew's effort worthless?”

“……”

“Look at Matthew's hands. Are those the hands of a man meant to hold a pen?”

Aron's gaze fell on his son's hands.

And he let out a gasp without realizing it.

Rough hands full of calluses and scars.

How much effort must he have put in to get them like that?

The result of continuing to strive while enduring the pain of his palms tearing and his bones crushing was clearly visible before him.

Patrick was right.

Those were not the hands of a person who lived by holding a pen.

They were the hands of those who lived with their lives and fortunes staked on the sword.

Patrick spoke again.

“Matthew worked hard and produced results. So why should he be forced to change his way of life? Even as a parent, you can't decide the direction of your child's life, can you?”

“Patrick, I….”

Matthew tried to interrupt, but Patrick paid him no mind and continued.

“If a child works hard and achieves results, there would have been words and actions that a parent should have duly taken. Am I wrong?”

“Patrick, stop.”

“Stop what?”

“What are you doing to my father?”

“Isn't it because he's my friend's father that I'm doing this? You stupid bastard!”

Patrick shouted.

At that moment, a nostalgic face overlapped with Matthew's.

Jaegal Hyeon, who was discriminated against in his family for his ugly appearance.

Namgung Cheon, who wasn't even treated as a son for his lack of talent.

Peng Mujong, who was half given up on even within the Hebei Peng Clan.

And even his wife, Dang Suryeon, who was not acknowledged by her family for being a woman….

If only their families had shown them even the slightest consideration back then….

If only they had shown even a little gratitude for their efforts and dedication….

‘It made me want to puke seeing them come fawning over them, saying "oh, our son, our daughter," only after they became successful.’

Moreover, it was frustrating to see his friends unable to abandon such families, taking care of them just because they were blood relatives.

At that time, Patrick had felt that it was a relief that he was an orphan.

Meanwhile, Aron had an epiphany from Patrick's words.

Come to think of it….

He was displeased that his son had entered the Knight Faculty against his wishes.

He was also displeased that his son had not failed the mid-term assessment, contrary to his expectations.

It was because all of it was beyond his expectations and control.

‘I was petty.’

Patrick was right.

A parent did not have the right to decide the direction of their child's life.

And there were words that should have been said to a child who had worked hard and produced results.

He only realized that after this young man in front of him pointed it out.

A young man not even half his age.

Aron, his face flushed with shame, said.

“Matthew.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I am sorry. And…. you did well.”

“……”

The moment he received his father's acknowledgment, an indescribably complex emotion appeared on Matthew's face.

He hadn't expected it.

Knowing that his father was not pleased with his enrollment in the Knight Faculty, he hadn't expected such words.

But upon hearing them, he realized.

Not expecting it was just a consolation he had given himself to avoid getting hurt.

In reality….

“Thank… you.”

At his father's single word of praise, his voice was filled with an emotion as if all his past hardships were being rewarded.

To such a son, Aron said.

“I am proud of you.”

“……”

Matthew couldn't answer, feeling that he would show an unsightly appearance if he spoke further.

And Patrick stood up from his seat and said.

“Well then, it seems the two of you need some quality time together. I shall take my leave.”

“There is no need for that.”

“I have some sense too.”

Lies.

In any case, Patrick stood up briskly and went outside….

“Just a moment.”

Patrick, who was about to leave, scurried back and grabbed the bottle of liquor from the table.

“It's expensive liquor, so I'll finish it. Well then, I'm really leaving….”

“……”

“……”

And he quickly left the room.

Looking at Patrick's departing back, Aron said.

“Matthew.”

“Yes, Father.”

“You've made a great friend.”

“I think so too.”

Aron smirked, took out a new bottle of liquor from the display case, and said.

“Let's drink. It seems we have a lot to talk about today.”

“Yes, Father.”

The quality time between the father and son had just begun.

* * *

On the roof of the Elbador Merchant Guild Master's mansion.

There, Patrick had brought the liquor and was drinking alone, watching the moonlit night, half-reclined.

With memories of the past as his side dish.

[Well done. Thanks to you, innocent commoners were saved.]

[Excellent. I am proud of you, Cheon-ah.]

[You rascal, aren't you too reckless? Still…. it's a relief. Thanks to you, we were able to prevent greater damage.]

The countless righteous deeds and achievements he had accumulated while active as the Radiant Dragon Great Master Jin Cheon.

Most of them were just things he did to get praise from his Master.

In the process, he helped the powerless and killed the bad guys.

The world praised him as a Great Master.

A true hero who strived to let the martial world know that justice was alive.

But that was just the result.

What he truly wanted was not the title of Great Master, nor the world's evaluation.

It was just a single word of praise from his Master, who, despite having a worried face, would still praise him.

“The thing about being a child is.”

Patrick took a sip of liquor and spoke again.

“No matter how old you get, you're no different from a child in front of your parents.”

No answer came back.

The Master who would answer was not here.

Still, Patrick continued to speak as if his Master were in front of him.

“To think I did all sorts of reckless things just to hear a word of praise from you, Master, I was so immature too. Wasn't I?”

But still.

Patrick still thought.

If he could go back to those days, if he could just hear that single word of praise from his Master, who would scold him for his recklessness with worried eyes, how….

“Tsk. How silly….”

Patrick, chiding himself with a click of his tongue, raised the liquor again.

Today, Patrick was a little envious of Matthew.

* * *

The next day.

Patrick had breakfast with Matthew's family.

Fresh yogurt with seasonal fruits.

Soft bread and seafood soup.

“Eat a lot… you are.”

“Eating is what matters. This fruit is delicious, what is it?”

“It's called a mango. It's a fruit that grows on some islands far to the southwest coast.”

“It must be expensive, right?”

“It's about 1 gold each.”

“Give me more.”

Does the concept of shame even exist in this bastard's head?

Aron had been very surprised by Patrick just yesterday.

He had led a negotiation on equal footing with himself, using the silk production method as bait.

He had rebuked him for being blinded by a parent's selfishness and not recognizing his son's efforts.

When talking to him, he even felt like he was dealing with an adult of his own age rather than his son's peer.

It was certainly like that, but….

“Cough. Cough, water….”

“Here you are, Young Master.”

Seeing that state, he wondered if everything that happened yesterday was just a fantasy.

When he looked at his son, Matthew sent him a look that said, ‘He's always like this, so don't mind him,’ as if he were used to it.

“Ahem, well then, Patrick. What do you think of the Arcana this year?”

“The Arcana?”

“Yes. Many people are debating whether you will be the representative or not. What do you think? Do you think you can go?”

“Representative?”

“People are talking a lot, but since you are the person in question, haven't the professors given you any word?”

Patrick nodded and then said.

“First, may I ask one thing as well?”

“Go ahead.”

“What is the Arcana?”

“……?”

“……?”

“……?”

“Why? Why are you suddenly looking at me with a ‘Is this bastard for real?’ face?”

How could they not?

Arcana.

Also known as the Sword Dragon Festival.

It is a gladiatorial tournament created to honor Arcana, who is known as the dragon of the sword and the guardian deity of all knights.

Though it is called the Sword Dragon Festival, one can participate even if they wield a spear or a mace.

Representatives are chosen from among young people of similar age who are enrolled in academies from each country on the continent to compete.

Winning this tournament, held once every four years, was the greatest honor for a knight, and even if one did not win, achieving good results could spread one's fame throughout the entire continent.

And currently, the Kingdom of Atronia was setting a new record in this Arcana.

The disgrace of having participated three consecutive times without achieving a single victory.

As a result, the Kingdom of Atronia was being evaluated as having the lowest level of knights on the entire continent.

“Ahh…. Come to think of it, I think I heard there was something like that.”

“No matter how much the Schneider fiefdom is at the eastern end, to not know of the Arcana….”

“Hey, Guild Master, you should also try making a living. Do you think there's time to care about such things?”

“……”

“Ahem, anyway, the Arcana…. So you're saying it's held this year.”

“That's right.”

“Well, is it that important?”

“It is important!”

“How can you even say that!?”

“Orabeoni, are you an idiot?”

All three members of Matthew's family shot up from their seats and protested in unison.

“Oh, geez…. Let's take it easy.”

Despite Patrick's words, Aron said with a serious expression.

“Our country has already failed to achieve a single victory in the Arcana for three consecutive times. Do you not know how much damage this brings to our national prestige?”

“It must be embarrassing.”

“It's more than that. The Arcana is a great battle where the nation's pride is at stake. As a result of not achieving a single victory for three consecutive times, our people have fallen into a serious inferiority complex.”

At Aron's words, Matthew also continued.

“And it's a serious problem from the Academy's perspective as well. The professors were severely reprimanded, and the budget given to the Knight Faculty by the state was cut in half.”

“Hmmm…. I see.”

Matthew, in fact, didn't really feel it.

From what he heard, it seemed like a talent show where kids gathered to determine the number one rising star under the heavens in his past life….

‘I couldn't go, right? Ah…. Thinking about it again makes me so pissed.’

In the young days of Jin Cheon's past life, when he was still fresh and impudent.

When news came that the Murim Alliance was holding a tournament to determine the number one rising star under the heavens, the young Jin Cheon, before he was called the Radiant Dragon, also went to participate. But what he heard when he arrived was….

[You cannot.]

[What? Why not?]

[Only the disciples of the sects who have been invited in advance by the Murim Alliance can participate in the tournament.]

[What? Then what kind of number one rising star under the heavens is this? It's their own neighborhood rising star.]

[Tsk tsk, a young friend who doesn't know the ways of the world is speaking too rashly. Just give up and watch before you go back.]

[What, you bastard…. Ugh-eub!]

[Hahaha. I understand. Then we shall take our leave.]

[Ugh-eum! Um-eum-eum!]

His Master had hastily covered Jin Cheon's mouth and stopped him as he was about to charge in.

And he had to return, fuming with anger.

In the end, only the disciples of the successful and prestigious orthodox sects could participate in such a tournament.

For Jin Cheon, a disciple of a small sect like the Twin Dragon Sect, there was not even a chance.

That was why, a few years later, when Jin Cheon made his debut in the martial world, he had challenged 100 duels himself to make a name.

‘Tsk, it's a shame even thinking about it again. If only I had won that tournament back then, I would have made a name for myself faster and earned more money. No, just the winner's prize was so amazing. I could have gotten that for free…. Ah, I'm so pissed.’

As his thoughts reached that point, Patrick asked as if to confirm.

“If you win at the Arcana, there must be prize money, right? How much is it? It's a lot, right? Right?”

“Of course, there is no prize money.”

“Huh? There isn't?”

“Isn't that obvious?”

“No, why isn't there?”

How could there be no prize money when there rightfully should be?

If you won such a tournament, shouldn't you be given a huge prize money, rare spiritual herbs, an expensive divine weapon, or at the very least, the Murim Alliance Leader's daughter?

That was the proper way of the martial world….

“Tsk tsk, a tournament without prize money. The ways of the martial world have fallen to the ground. It wasn't like this in my time. Tsk tsk tsk.”

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