Radiant Dragon’s Otherworldly Reincarnation

Chapter 28. I Have Grown Stronger (5)

“Uwaaaaaaak!”

“Move! Don't stop moving!”

“Never stand directly in front of it!”

“You damn son of a bitch! Kuaak!”

The soldiers were literally fighting a desperate struggle.

They were fighting as if in a last-ditch effort against a monster they normally couldn't face one-on-one.

If they stopped for even a moment, those savage teeth, those sharp claws might tear them to death.

In the trembling pressure of real combat, the soldiers were fighting beyond their limits.

“Keoheong!”

However, no matter how much they armed themselves with mental fortitude and fought hard, in the end, they were helpless before the wall of reality.

One soldier eventually couldn't withstand the attack and fell backward, finding himself in a crisis.

“Uwaaaaaaak!”

The soldier screamed and turned his gaze away as he saw the wide-open maw of the werewolf lunging towards him as he lay on the ground.

But at that moment….

“Kaeeng!”

With a flash of light, Patrick, who had kicked the werewolf's head away, spoke.

“You're dead now, Soldier A.”

“It's Oliver.”

“Does that matter? When you're dead?”

“……”

Oliver lowered his head under Patrick's pathetic gaze.

Patrick watched from behind, entrusting the monsters to the soldiers until the very last thrilling moment.

And only when the soldiers were pushed to the brink of death did he offer his help.

“Tsk tsk tsk, even a neighborhood mutt would get it if I said it this much. Huh? But why can't a human brat get it?”

“……”

“I told you to move in sync with the opponent's attack, right? Why are you the one getting scared first and hopping around? Are you a rabbit?”

“No, that is…”

“Unnecessary movements lead to exhaustion of stamina, exhaustion of stamina leads to defeat, and defeat leads to death. You want to die? Should I kill you? Huh?”

“I'm sorry.”

Although a festival of nagging unfolded every time he was saved, so far, no one had died.

Though it felt like they had experienced near-death dozens of times per person.

What was most infuriating was that everything Patrick nagged about was correct.

In the next battle, if they moved while being mindful of the points Patrick had pointed out, they could tell they had improved even by their own judgment.

In other words, all of that sharp nagging that poured out until their ears bled was correct.

“No, but the opponent is a werewolf, so what am I supposed to do?”

“You have to fight. You have to win.”

“……”

“What's with that look full of complaint, like ‘this bastard is talking big because it's not his problem’?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Hmm, it looks like it. Are you really sure?”

“No, sir.”

Patrick, who had been staring intently at the denying Oliver, nodded and said.

“Alright. Then continue.”

“Yes?”

“A few more are coming over there. Try not to make a mistake this time and do well.”

“I just escaped death a moment ago?”

“It's fine as long as you didn't die.”

“……”

“Remember, you must read the opponent's breathing and timing. You're not the only one fighting. Observe the opponent well.”

“……”

“Fighting!”

Seeing Patrick cheering with the bright smile unique to a ten-year-old child, Oliver thought.

‘I hate this bastard more than the monsters.’

* * *

There is no better training than real combat.

That had been Patrick's principle since his past life.

Indeed, one duel was more helpful than a hundred days of training, and one real battle was more helpful than ten duels.

In the end, the truth Patrick had learned firsthand was that to become stronger, one must experience as many real battles as possible.

And based on that truth, the result of harshly grinding down the soldiers was….

“Hey. Do it properly.”

“What are you doing? Are you dancing?”

“That's not the step the Young Master taught us… Ah, this is driving me crazy. What are you doing falling over!?”

The soldiers who had faced monsters with Patrick grew stronger quite quickly.

During sparring time, they overwhelmed the other soldiers, and the gap in their skills grew wider and wider as time went on.

“No, I am doing it properly, aren't I?”

“Don't be floppy; you have to move properly.”

“I am doing thaaaat!?”

“Ayy, no you're not. An opening here, an opening here too. Here too…. Hey, I told you to do it properly!”

“You Soldier A baaaastard!”

“It's Oliver.”

Those who had practiced the Five Elements Steps in real combat and learned its effectiveness certainly saw their proficiency increase surprisingly.

They leisurely handled the other soldiers with whom they had previously had no significant skill difference.

In Sanson's case, he showed himself lightly overwhelming five soldiers at once in a spar.

“Alright. That's enough. Everyone, rest!”

At Patrick's command, most of the soldiers collapsed on the spot.

But the soldiers who had experienced real combat, including Sanson, seemed to still be full of energy and were warming up amongst themselves.

“Captain. When you pulled back earlier, you held out your sword to check the enemy. Did you always do that?”

“No, I asked the Young Master and learned it.”

“Aah…. Then what if the enemy…”

Seeing them like that, the other soldiers couldn't help but feel something.

It had widened.

A clear difference in skill had emerged.

Sanson was one thing, but the other soldiers had been no different from them, yet now, a clear skill gap had opened up.

What was the reason for this result, despite having spent the same time in the same space?

How seriously did they believe in and follow Patrick's teachings?

That one thing alone created this difference between them.

In fact, they knew it too.

“It seems that step the Young Master taught us is no ordinary thing.”

“Should we try to do it properly?”

“Honestly, the Young Master isn't someone who would teach us something useless, right?”

“That's right. He even replaced all our weapons and armor this time.”

“Mmm. I was a liiiiittle bit grateful.”

“Right. Not a lot, just a liiiiittle bit.”

“As much as an ant's booger.”

The soldiers were saying this, but their loyalty to Patrick had increased greatly.

He had gotten rid of Brian, who had been embezzling and acting tyrannically, for their sake; he had taught them, mere soldiers, Aura Blessing; and this time, he had earned money and replaced all their old weapons and armor.

If they didn't know gratitude after all this, they weren't human.

However, they couldn't say it out loud because they had been beaten up too much to express pure respect.

“Let's do it properly. If we follow what the Young Master tells us without doubting, we can become stronger too.”

“Mmm. Right. We have to become knights. The Young Master said he would make us knights.”

“Right. And I don't know about Captain Sanson or the others, but I couldn't stand that kid Oliver acting all high and mighty.”

“Oliver?”

“You mean Soldier A.”

“Ah, right. I forgot his real name for a moment.”

“Anyway, when that bastard acts all high and mighty and cheeky, something just wells up inside me.”

“Ah, I agree with that.”

“I can't stand the cheeky words coming out of that mouth more than losing.”

“Let's kill him.”

Although Oliver had established himself as the official nuisance among the fief soldiers, unfortunately, his skill itself was in the upper ranks among them.

In any case, the soldiers were now finally beginning to trust Patrick's teachings in earnest.

Patrick, who was resting far away, heard all of the soldiers' words.

‘These bastards are finally starting to listen to what people say.’

In his past life, people had flocked to him with bags of money just to learn a single move from him.

Well, they all regretted it afterward, but it was like that anyway.

But in this world, even when he offered to teach them for free, he had to look at these brats who doubted him, asking, ‘Is this right? Is this useful?’ and it just made him…

‘I really wanted to separate their bones and flesh. Ah, just thinking about it makes me mad again.’

For Patrick, it was a sigh-inducing matter, but what could he do?

The way he taught was too different from the existing common sense of this world.

It would be very unfamiliar from the perspective of this world's general common sense.

So it was inevitable that they would doubt Patrick.

But Patrick taught them silently, and a few soldiers, including Sanson and Oliver, were now finally starting to show results.

Sanson had held his own against a troll alone, and Oliver and the others had become able to fight to some extent against monsters they wouldn't have dared to face in their past selves.

Their appearance stimulated the other soldiers and motivated them.

That spirit would spur them on in their training and lead to a full-fledged increase in their skills.

‘The framework is finally in place. Finally…’

On the way here, he had thought more than once, ‘Should I just cut all these bastards off and do it alone?’ but it was a good thing he didn't.

‘It would be really great if just one talented genius appeared now.’

That part was a bit disappointing.

Now, in this atmosphere, if there was just one person with truly genius-level talent or constitution, he could use that person as a central point to pull up the whole group.

The existence of a genius, by its very nature, serves as a milestone for those around them.

Patrick was too far away to be that milestone, and honestly, Sanson wasn't that kind of existence.

‘Well, Sanson isn't a genius, but he's the most outstanding among them and is at least a hardworking talent. If I raise him well, he'll play his part.’

As Patrick was thinking that….

“Young Master. You need to come for a moment.”

“What is it?”

“The doctor who came to the fief is saying that one of the children is cursed.”

“What?”

“The fief residents are scared by what the doctor is saying. The doctor says that if the child is not driven out, a disaster will befall us…”

“What kind of novel bullshit is this!?”

Patrick shouted and shot up from his seat.

* * *

A doctor was a rather high-class profession in this world.

The most effective treatment for sick people was the healing of priests, but the donations to the temple were very expensive.

It was called a donation, but at the point where they wouldn't treat you if you didn't pay, it wasn't a donation.

So, for commoners without money, when they got sick, they couldn't even dream of going to the temple.

The next best thing they chose was a doctor.

In fact, they were more like apothecaries, and most of their treatments relied on prescribing medicine, but poor people often couldn't even afford that.

Patrick had asked Red to send several such doctors to the fief.

While checking the children's health, he intended to have the fief residents get check-ups too.

But one of those doctors had suddenly caused a problem.

* * *

“Therefore, this child is cursed. Not even a high priest, let alone a doctor like me, can save them if they come.”

It was a doctor who was passionately speaking while looking at a child lying on a sickbed, on the verge of death.

The child was one of the orphans Patrick had brought this time, one who was particularly sick.

They had been lying down all day, and with only skin and bones left on their entire body, it was impossible for them to even lift food to their own mouth without someone's help.

Since their condition was the most critical, Lawrence had shown this child to the doctor first.

And as soon as the doctor examined the child, they were startled and shouted to the people around them that the child was cursed, and now they were saying that if the child was not expelled, disaster would befall the others as well.

In front of such a doctor, the butler Lawrence frowned and said.

“Stop spreading strange rumors with baseless conjecture. A curse? How long has it been since black mages disappeared from the world? Does that make any sense?”

But the doctor was also adamant.

“This is a curse. It is a famous curse among us doctors.”

“Haaah…. This is not getting anywhere.”

“If left like this, their whole body will grow cold and they will die, and after that, they will spread poison everywhere and harm even healthy people.”

“What ridiculous nonsense. Are you even a doctor?”

“Then are you a doctor? Are you?”

“……”

The doctor raged and said to Lawrence.

“If you are doubtful, touch that child's body. You will surely feel it to be as cold as ice.”

Lawrence glared at the doctor and placed his hand on the child's skinny body.

Then he was shocked.

‘How can a person's body be this cold?’

Even a corpse that had grown cold after all its blood had cooled would not be this cold.

This was a coldness like touching ice that had frozen in the middle of winter.

The doctor said to Lawrence as if to say, ‘See?’

“You see. Was I not right?”

“……”

“Would I, a doctor, tell you to kill a perfectly healthy person? It is the doctor's job to make the decision to sacrifice the few to save the many.”

“Mmm…”

“Listen to me and abandon that child. It is not yet too late.”

At the doctor's words, Lawrence groaned.

Honestly, he didn't believe in curses, but it was true that the child's condition was not normal.

And above all….

“A curse?”

“What should we do? He said it's a curse.”

“If a disaster comes to our fief…”

Watching the fief residents whisper in anxiety, Lawrence frowned.

‘This is not good.’

The fief residents were, to put it nicely, simple, and to put it as it was, ignorant.

Curses can only be cast by black mages or demons.

This was the official announcement from the temple, and framing an innocent person as a witch or a servant of the devil and executing them was strictly forbidden in the name of the temple.

That was already hundreds of years ago.

But the innocent people of this rural fief did not know that and just held a vague fear of the word ‘curse.’

‘What should I do? Should I kick the doctor out? But most of the villagers haven't been examined yet…’

Seeing the conflicted Lawrence, the doctor spoke as if to drive the nail in.

“I am not saying this out of any ill will. As a doctor, I am doing the right thing, knowing I will be disliked, in order to save people.”

“……”

“Please, banish that child outside. That is for the sake of this fiiiie—aaak!”

Baaam!

The doctor, who was speaking with a serious expression, was sent flying by a powerful kick to his side.

There was only one person in this fief who would do such a thing.

“Was it you? The quack bastard who was spouting nonsense about a curse?”

“Y-… Young Master.”

Patrick was there.