Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 152 (Part 2):
They say the temperament of a ruler is revealed by his appearance.
On stage, Helmut, grooming his well-trimmed mustache, stared at the First Prince. Above in the spectators’ seats. Though a distance away, he appeared distinctly in his sight.
The First Prince was a man in his mid-fifties, a successor that the king, who didn’t have much luck with children, had obtained in his youth.
Standing beside him appeared the Second Prince, seemingly about a decade younger.
Since the Second Prince was actually five years younger, the age difference seemed even more pronounced. The Second Prince had a more toned physique than the First Prince.
The Second Prince, with his determined temperament and clear eyes, contrasted sharply with the First Prince, who seemed thin and shallow.
Given a choice of successors without knowing the princes, anyone would pick the Second Prince.
‘Did the Palma Knight Commander have even a shred of conscience?’
Despite any secret agreements, it made sense he couldn’t overtly support the First Prince, potentially disastrous for Basor.
“Perform your best, as nobles and very high-ranking people are watching.”
His opponent spoke in a tone that seemed almost pitying. A young, robust knight in his mid-twenties.
Knowing he was a member of the Palma Knights, Helmut wasn’t surprised. He came flaunting his knight’s uniform, probably to intimidate, but Helmut found it laughable.
The Palma Knight Commander’s offer to join them must not have been publicized.
‘Luke Yeager, more tight-lipped than I thought.’
“Hyde, was it? I heard you’re quite skilled, but unlucky to face me. I’m Horten from the Kikero family.”
He seemed overly confident in victory, perhaps arrogantly so.
A descendant of a renowned sword family. Achieved the manifestation of Vis at a young age and became a Palma Knight.
For someone who had been on a winning streak, underestimating a seemingly frail youth was expected.
“What’s your relation to the Palma Knight Commander?”
“He’s to be my sworn father.”
An unfamiliar term. Presumably, it meant some kind of kinship.
‘But that attitude, I don’t like it.’
Disliking his attitude, Helmut decided to show some displeasure. He smirked slightly.
“How do you compare to Luke Yeager? To me, it seems he’s above you.”
Horten’s expression changed. Touched on his pride, anger flared in his eyes. He spat out,
“See for yourself!”
Ding-!
The bell signaling the start of the match rang out. Vis burst forth from Horten’s sword, shining orange under the sunlight.
The color of Vis varies with each individual’s temperament.
Helmut also summoned his Vis, a shade of ash. It had darkened slightly from before, a color he preferred to keep hidden as much as possible.
But here, far from the temple’s influence in Basor, it was fine to reveal it. He couldn’t win without manifesting Vis, especially when the opponent used it.
‘Is there bad blood between him and Luke?’
That would be convenient. It made it easier to consider him an enemy!
Horten’s sword, charged with orange Vis, rushed in at high speed.
Helmut deflected it with the side of his own sword, attacking directly. But Horten’s blade, changing its path, collided again with Helmut’s.
Sparks flew! The swords, laden with Vis, clanged like they were made of some otherworldly metal, their energies violently clashing at the point of contact.
That single exchange made Horten reassess his opponent.
‘Only sixteen, was it? This is beyond mere Vis manifestation!’
The storm-like surge of ash-colored Vis tried to suppress his own Vis.
Yet, the calm in Helmut’s eyes showed no fear of facing a strong opponent.
Horten clenched his teeth. Remaining locked in Vis against Vis was disadvantageous. Better to settle this through swordsmanship!
Clang! Clash! Clang! Several exchanges followed.
Helmut found a way to win. His opponent might have superior height and strength, but Helmut was smaller, presenting a narrower target.
While he lacked in strength, his Vis compensated, and his sharpness was unmatched!
Seizing a moment when Horten shifted to defense, Helmut struck his sword fiercely, piercing through.
“Kuk!”
A low grunt escaped as the wrist struck at an awkward angle twisted. Even if balance was lost, it could have been regained.
But for a moment, muscles overloaded with force stiffened.
Not missing the opportunity, Helmut closed in, clenched his fist, and struck hard at the diaphragm.
“Argh!”
Horten managed not to drop his sword, but his whole body was exposed. Helmut grabbed his sword-wielding wrist and roughly tripped him.
Thud! Helmut’s blade hovered over the fallen Horten’s neck.
Horten’s face flushed with blood, his lips quivering as if to curse. It had been a while since Helmut felt such a thrilling fight, nearly burning him.
” Say it.”
Helmut’s voice was cold. At last, from between Horten’s gritted teeth, the words spilled.
“…I lost.”
Loud cheers filled the stage immediately after.
***
“Hey, you’re quite something. Knight Horten is a promising figure even within the Palma Knights.”
“Have you been waiting here all this time?”
They were in a shady spot near the waiting area outside the arena. To Helmut’s knowledge, Luke’s turn was supposed to be much later. It wasn’t the time for him to be here.
“Who said I was waiting for you?”
Luke denied it with a serious face.
“This place happens to have a good view of the stage. A privilege of the competitors.”
Clearly, he was wary of Helmut, making the effort to watch his match.
“This opponent was easier, I suppose.”
He had previously faced a Palma Knight in combat and won without much difficulty.
“Well, I saw someone during the preliminaries. That’s all.”
Luke shrugged nonchalantly. Just then, Horten, coming down from the stage late, passed by.
“Knight Horten, you did har…”
As Luke raised his hand in greeting, embarrassingly, Horten scowled and brushed past him. A clear snub.
Helmut glanced at Horten’s retreating figure and commented,
“It seems you don’t get along with that guy.”
“Ah, well, yes. I’m a stone rolled in from another country. It takes time to be recognized.”
He seemed to be defending the notion of camaraderie among Palma Knights.
‘It’s not just for that reason.’
Younger and from a foreign land, yet skilled – a combination enough to irk Horten, who had lived off his self-importance.
“He doesn’t know, does he? That thing.”
That Luke Yeager is the great-grandson of the Sword Saint. Luke caught on immediately.
“Right. In our knight order, except for the Knight Commander, no one knows. Only a few in the higher ranks know. His Majesty is aware, though.”
Luke frowned slightly.
“But, an unknown guy from another country like you knows this secret? What are you, exactly?”
“I told you I’d explain when the time comes.”
“Curiosity is killing me!”
Can curiosity actually shorten one’s lifespan? Unsure of this fact, Helmut responded seriously.
“Really? Sorry to hear that.”
“…Forget it, let’s not talk about it! Anyway, well done.”
Luke patted Helmut’s shoulder.