Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 158 (Part 1)

Luke Yeager was aggressive from the start. He quickly launched an attack on Helmut, igniting a faint golden aura around his blade.

As Helmut parried his sword, he felt a sense of déjà vu.

‘This is….’

A thrill ran through him. It was Darien’s swordsmanship – a technique established by one who had reached the pinnacle of mastery with the sword.

The trajectory of the sword’s movement was etched into his vision. It was the very technique that Helmut had honed through countless hours of diligent practice.

He knew it all too well – how to counter an attack, how to deflect, and the sharpness required to thrust back with minimal effort.

But Luke Yeager had made the technique his own, showing signs of extensive practice.

No matter how well Helmut knew it, facing Darien’s top-tier swordsmanship with a basic common technique was a significant handicap.

Helmut realized anew.

‘He truly is Darien’s descendant.’

It was as if he was seeing a young Darien alive once more. Had there been such a talented individual, Darien would have taught him swordsmanship even if he were not his blood relative.

However, Darien’s disciple was Helmut, not Luke Yeager.

With a final clash, Luke Yeager stepped back. The period of testing each other was over.

Neither had gone all out yet. It seemed Luke had spent the time observing Helmut.

There was a brief moment of respite. Helmut tilted his head slightly as he looked at Luke.

Luke’s eyes were steady. He was fully immersed in the battle.

‘2 million marks.’

That would be a tremendous sum even for a noble. Moreover, he was currently carrying the honor of the Palma Knights.

‘If I win, those who already dislike him will have another reason to.’

Other members of the Palma Knights had lost to Helmut, but such trivial matters were of no concern.

However, Helmut had no need to consider Luke Yeager’s social standing.

‘I can’t afford to lose.’

He must win. There was only one option. Helmut raised his sword tip, ready to strike first.

But at that moment,

-Squawk!

A sound too sharp and rough to be from a bird echoed through the air. The cry, filled with magical energy, left ears ringing.

‘A magical beast?’

Helmut hadn’t heard of any disruption planned during the match.

Helmut sheathed his sword and stepped back, and Luke did the same.

Both looked up simultaneously, along with everyone else.

A giant shadow descended onto the stage. It was a massive bird, a magical beast from the desert.

With wings wide enough to cover the sky, it was clutching something in its talons – a bloody mass.

As it was hard to see what it was, everyone squinted towards the sky.

Only Helmut recognized the identity of what was clutched in the shadow’s talons, though he couldn’t comprehend why.

‘Why would it be carrying that and flying?’

The bird lowered its altitude and dropped its cargo.

Thud! The moment the object hit the center of the stage, blood splattered everywhere, eliciting screams from somewhere.

“It’s a corpse!”

“Oh, dear God!”

Helmut stared at the object that had fallen onto the stage with a puzzled look.

A mass of several people mangled and intertwined. Limbs were severed, and torsos were crushed into a single lump.

It was difficult to make out any distinct shapes. The impact of the fall had scattered them.

Gags and faintings followed the horrendous sight. The stands buzzed with activity.

Sounds of people collapsing were heard, and some spectators began to leave. Helmut was skeptical.

‘What is this, a surprise event?’

But that would be more fitting for a festival.

This was the capital of Basor, with even the royal family present. Such an event here would surely lead to executions, something Helmut understood.

Even for a warrior nation, this was not ordinary.

But for a magical beast to appear here alone was also strange.

Helmut glanced at Luke out of caution. He too was furrowing his brows, clearly bewildered.

Naturally, the match was paused. The referees and the tournament organizers had come onto the stage but seemed unsure of what to do next.

Half the stage was stained with blood. Helmut, despite being nearby, remained clean, having skillfully avoided the blood splatter.

Helmut re-sheathed his sword and approached the corpse, inspecting it closely. There were a few things he could tell.

‘It hasn’t been dead for long.’

The fabric barely clinging to the severed torso was something commoners would wear. There was sand on it. These were people who had died in the desert.

‘An attack from the desert?’

That wouldn’t be uncommon in Basor. However, it was unusual for a magical beast to carry the corpses all the way to the capital.

Before long, the bird had gracefully flown away from the tournament grounds. Although the Palma Knights were present, engaging the beast could have resulted in a disaster if it decided to attack the crowd.

Luke Yeager murmured,

“Could this be a declaration of war?”

‘A magical beast declaring war…?’

It wasn’t impossible for a creature with intelligence, but something didn’t add up.

Helmut inadvertently shifted his gaze to a corner of the stands. There sat the commander of the Palma Knights, Lutus Cicero, receiving a piece of paper. He soon called over a subordinate to give instructions.

A strange tension emanated from him as he spoke. In that moment, Helmut realized.

A new stage had been set. An entirely new stage.

Someone approached Helmut.

“The match is paused for now. Please move to the waiting area.”

And just like that, the final match was abruptly halted.

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