Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 153 (Part 1):

Just as Helmut was about to leave his seat, a booming voice came from the other side.

“Luke! Luke!”

“Antony! How did you get here.”

“I came to watch Luke’s match!”

It was a little boy who looked no older than ten. Sprinting over, he hung onto Luke’s leg with a beaming smile.

Luke quickly patted the boy’s head in response.

However, a woman who appeared to be the boy’s nanny caught up and grabbed Luke.

“Young master! You shouldn’t enter here carelessly. I’m sorry, Sir Luke.”

“It’s okay.”

He patted the child’s shoulder in a friendly manner.

“See you later, Antony?”

“Yes, yes!”

For some reason, the child named Antony waved his hand continuously and was dragged away by the nanny.

To Helmut, who had always been calm since his childhood, this child seemed somewhat wild.

He stopped to ask.

“Who’s the kid?”

Judging by his clothes, he’s not of commoner status. Given he approached close to where the contestants were.

“Ah, that’s the grandson of the Palma Knight Commander, Antony Cicero. The Knight Commander’s son asked me to teach him the basics. He’s been following me around ever since.”

“The Knight Commander’s son… He’s not a knight, is he?”

“Yes, he has no talent for the sword. Instead, he’s an excellent bureaucrat, recognized even by His Majesty. Although he’s not on good terms with the knight commander.”

The chattering Luke suddenly shut his mouth.

“Don’t pry any further.”

With a frown, he turned his gaze quickly towards the stage. It was ridiculous considering he was the one who had been talking. The contestants were just being called up to the stage.

Helmut also left after leaving a brief farewell.

“Good luck with the match.”

Not knowing anything leads to complicated relationships.

‘It seems like the Palma knight commander is trying to eliminate Luke, but his son is pushing his own child towards Luke. Luke finds the child endearing. What a mess.’

The documents Talon provided mentioned that the Palma knight commander’s son was causing conflict with his father by supporting the Second Prince.

Could it be that he has nothing to do with the incident from 20 years ago? It’s possible he doesn’t know Luke is a descendant of the Sword Saint.

‘It’s difficult to tell who can be killed and who cannot.’

The opponent is not someone who can be easily dealt with. Not only is he powerful, but he also has the Palma Knights at his disposal. The knight commander leads the knights at all times.

Touching his family could complicate matters with Luke. It’s as if the one seeking revenge is the villain. All he wants is for them to face the consequences they deserve.

‘Maybe I should just be upfront with Luke about who to save and who to kill.’

But what if Luke opts for a merciful choice? What if he suggests burying the past?

Helmut has no intention of accepting that. That was the problem.

Because they might have different ideas, he could hinder Helmut. Helmut couldn’t harm him. Nothing should happen to Luke Yeager.

‘Not that Darien ever said to take revenge, nor did he say to protect his descendants.’

But Darien didn’t know about Luke. If he had, he wouldn’t have remained silent either.

Anyway, he secured his place in the top 8. The prize money came to him every day he won.

Helmut, with a heavier purse, headed to the inn. Before leaving the waiting area, he looked around and quietly moved when there was no one around, pulling his hood down low.

Seeing the people surrounding the main contestants before, Helmut realized something. Michael had been warding off interested parties as if he had already had him.

Though occasionally some did cling, he managed to shake them off.

‘Annoying, but it worked out.’

Receiving an invitation to join from the Palma knight commander was enough. It was more convenient to get information from Michael.

If there were really influential people, they would have approached him while he was in the waiting area or they would have come to meet him at this Golden Leaf Inn.

‘If it’s a powerholder from Basor, even Michael couldn’t refuse.’

His role was merely to fend off the small fries.

As it had always been, he encountered Michael at the inn.

Whether it was after a match or to escape the scorching sun, taking refuge in the inn was the same for both of them. The tragedy of a non-Basorian.

Michael clasped his hands as if praying.

“Hyde, it’s not much longer now. We’re already at the quarter-finals.”

“Ah, yes.”

Only a few steps remained until the final. This realization suddenly struck him anew.

Ordinarily, when one thinks of a martial arts tournament, one imagines a battleground of fierce fights. But for Helmut, it was different. Except for exerting a bit of effort today, he had breezed through the tournament so far. He hadn’t encountered any challenging opponents.

It felt more strenuous to practice swordsmanship in the training ground attached to his room.

Considering the Basor martial arts tournament was known for its high level, this was no ordinary phenomenon.

‘Is it my good luck, or am I just strong?’

Helmut leaned towards the latter. Realizing his own strength was a pleasant thing.

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