Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 144 (Part 1):

In the Kingdom of Basor, a third of the country is desert. Helmut arrived at the capital at the beginning of June, when the hot winds started to blow. It was a journey of about a fortnight, by no means an easy one.

‘It’s hot.’

Helmut felt the heat.

The Forest of Roots maintained a cool climate throughout the year. Sometimes, it was so cold that he had to bury himself in the fur of Elaga to endure it. Because of this, Helmut was hardly bothered by the cold.

But the intense sunlight that seemed to dry up one’s flesh and this suffocating heat were truly hard to adapt to.

‘Lucky I’m not so frail as to get heatstroke.’

Thanks to the seed of darkness, Helmut had traits somewhere between a monster and a human. Stronger than humans, yet weaker than monsters. He hardly fell ill with minor diseases. He was robust no matter what he ate, and recovered quickly no matter how he was treated.

However, in the face of the severe heat, he was more powerless than his horse, White.

‘Now that I’ve arrived, it’s all good.’

His plan was to rest in a cool inn with air-conditioning magic, no matter the cost.

He had almost slaughtered humans out of irritation on the way here. That would have led to a bounty on his head even before he could participate in the tournament. The people of this kingdom had a knack for testing one’s patience.

Upon entering the Kingdom of Basor, Helmut frequently encountered quarrels.

“Are you a noble young master, handling a sword with those hands?”

“Even if you make up like a woman, you won’t fool anyone.”

“Shall I leave a scar on your face so so you can’t play around?”

The people of the Kingdom of Basor were big and had a bold temperament. Most of the men had muscular, brawny bodies. They lived with a rugged temperament, fighting desert beasts that appeared from time to time.

Thus, it was natural for them to look down on men who were white and seemed to do nothing but read books all day.

Helmut, who already had the appearance of a noble’s son, became even more dainty with his disguise. He was exactly the type they despised the most.

Moreover, the inns Helmut used were usually frequented by warriors or mercenaries.

They did not hesitate to pick fights with Helmut, who was alone, simply because he looked weak and handsome!

Ignoring them usually led to the intervention of the innkeepers or staff, who were no less muscular than those picking the fights.

However, there were times when he could not bear it. For example, on particularly hot days, after riding all day and entering a new inn.

Helmut’s eyes flashed.

“Go ahead if you dare.”

“Oh, look at this? Can you actually use that black sword?”

“Look at that scabbard. It’s just for decoration. A kid playing dress-up!”

Helmut silently drew his sword.

Shhh! With a sharp sound, the opponent blinked. Pain shot through his earlobe. Hair cut straight fell fluttering in the air.

“Oh?”

“The next will be your neck.”

With a deflating sound, the opponent backed off. Only then did the atmosphere change. It became friendly.

“So you know how to use a sword!”

“For someone who looks like a girl, you’re quite skilled.”

“Are you a foreigner on your way to the capital?”

“Are you going to participate in the tournament?”

Helmut cut it off.

“Don’t bother me. Unless you want to die.”

It was rare for Helmut to threaten so blatantly.

Killing intent surged in Helmut’s eyes. Heat sometimes kills people.

“Touchy one, aren’t you?”

The opponent shrugged but backed off obediently. Helmut then sheathed his sword. This was not an uncommon occurrence.

Fortunately, showing one’s strength usually ended matters quickly. The people of this country, regardless of gender, were weak to the strong and strong to the weak, not unlike the Forest of Roots.

No, it was a bit different. They respected the strong. They admired strong swordsmen.

Students from academies were rare in the Kingdom of Basor. That was because, in this country, swordsmen grew by fighting desert beasts.

There was no need to enroll in an academy to experience tension through competition and learn swordsmanship through instruction. Life itself was filled with real battles.

This was similar yet different from Helmut’s life. Living under Elaga’s protection, he had little need to fight monsters.

Many strong individuals came from Basor. Darien was one of them. The most unique and legendary of them all.

The commander of the royal knights of Basor, the Palma Knights, gathered only the strongest from Basor.

One of his greatest achievements was reclaiming the Basor desert, overrun with demonic beasts, for humanity. It took many sacrifices and over a decade.

The great swordsman, Darien Deferth, finally succeeded in slaying the giant scorpion demonic beast, Scorpion, that ruled the desert. As a result, the desert beasts, having lost their leader, weakened.

The momentum of the monsters that seemed to invade even the capital died down significantly, and people began to traverse the desert, which was once a land of death. The Kingdom of Basor rapidly found stability.

Darien led the knights to periodically exterminate desert beasts, saving many people in the process.

Ethan Kudrow, who nearly died to monsters near a village while traveling through the desert, was saved by Darien.

Although his wife had already died. Based on this connection, Helmut made his way to Basor.

‘That statue.’

Walking down the main road, Helmut stopped dead in his tracks. A grand and majestic statue holding a sword stood in the middle of the square.

It reminded him of someone he knew. Helmut checked the name written below the statue.

__Sword Saint Darien Deferth.

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