Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 166 (Part 2):

Helmut might have to endure some resistance and damage, but with that method, he could handle it sufficiently.

Helmut’s eyes gleamed coldly.

“Gah!”

Luke Yeager groaned. Blood was flowing copiously from his shoulder.

He had been holding out until he allowed one attack. The cost was painful.

The bleeding was severe. But it was an unavoidable strike. If he hadn’t offered his shoulder, his neck would have been cut.

‘I can’t move this arm anymore.’

He had to face the opponent with one arm. The commander of the Palma Knights!

It was a situation where death wouldn’t be surprising at any moment, but Lutus Cicero had ceased his offensive.

His fierce momentum remained, but his gaze was contemplative. He casually muttered, holding his sword loosely.

“Amazing. It’s as if I’m seeing his swordsmanship. In his youth, he must have looked just like you.”

As if respecting the man who had put himself in danger, a chilling emotion flashed in Lutus Cicero’s eyes.

Luke Yeager realized what that emotion was. He clenched his teeth and asked.

“Why do you hate the Sword Saint?”

Lutus Cicero hadn’t immediately finished off Luke Yeager, not because of camaraderie or sympathy for his former subordinate.

He simply wanted to enjoy killing Luke Yeager, like a cat playing with a mouse. Underneath was a deep-seated hatred.

‘Why.’

Luke Yeager pondered anew. Why did such a great man, the commander of the Palma Knights, betray the Sword Saint and harbor such hatred for his descendant?

What Lutus Cicero revealed was a deep, sorrowful hatred, like flames burning in hell, beyond expression.

In the past, Lutus Cicero was known publicly as the closest confidant of the Sword Saint.

He managed to secure the position of commander of the Palma Knights without suspicion about the Sword Saint’s disappearance and maintained his reputation over the years for that reason.

Because his relationship with Darien Deferth was too close for suspicion.

He was the Sword Saint’s most loyal subordinate and his right hand.

Even his grandfather had spoken highly of Lutus Cicero. Only recently did the Second Prince begin to voice suspicions, but he didn’t reach a conclusion.

“Why?”

Lutus Cicero sneered.

The Sword Saint, Darien Deferth, would never have guessed why he was betrayed.

Fair enough. That man was arrogantly oblivious to others.

In an instant, Lutus Cicero’s memories slid into the past.

The Sword Saint’s cold and strict face vividly emerged from his memories. A face he had revered like the sky for many years.

Hiding his hate-filled heart. Lutus Cicero had faithfully served him.

And his patience bore fruit. As the end of Darien Deferth!

His hatred was justified. The Sword Saint deserved such an end.

Because the Sword Saint had trampled on Lutus Cicero’s pride, dignity, and everything as a swordsman in the most cruel way.

Lutus Cicero admired and followed the Sword Saint. They fought together against the desert’s demonic beasts.

Who else would have been more suitable to inherit the Sword Saint’s swordsmanship?

But Darien Deferth had a son, and Lutus Cicero had to suppress his own desires.

The opportunity came soon. Darien’s pampered son, simply because he was a blood relative, had grabbed the chance but couldn’t bear it due to his weakness.

When he heard the news of that man’s disappearance, Lutus Cicero was glad.

Finally, the opportunity had come to him! The successor to the Sword Saint. There was no more coveted title.

The Sword Saint was old. He needed someone to pass his swordsmanship to. If he actively expressed his desire at this weakened moment.

However, Lutus Cicero’s expectations soon turned to dust.

‘Please grant me the honor of becoming your successor.’

‘Impossible.’

‘Why?’

‘You’re insufficient to be my disciple. You’re not my child, so regrettably, I cannot pass on my swordsmanship.’

It was shocking. Lutus Cicero was a noble of the renowned Basor sword family.

Although not matching the Sword Saint, his talent was outstanding. Enough to secure the position of deputy commander of the Palma Knights.

He couldn’t remain unaffected by the words that defined his limits to his face. He retreated, feeling humiliated.

But it didn’t end there. He pleaded with Darien Deferth again.

‘I will work hard! If I lack talent, I’ll make up for it with effort, please.’

‘Don’t bother me. You’re quite skilled, but you don’t meet my standards.’

‘Maybe I seem insufficient in the eyes of the commander, but if you reconsider…’

‘I said no! Your talent is far too lacking, and your quality falls short! Do I need to say it twice?’

Darien Deferth turned his back after shouting. It was a cold back.

Kneeling, Lutus Cicero felt despair looking at that back. Darien Deferth was impenetrable.

The Sword Saint would not pass his swordsmanship to him. That decision could never be changed by his own strength.

Because of his desperation, the despair was more intense. Enough to consume and transform Lutus Cicero.

That was the beginning.

But the one who made him feel that was the Sword Saint. Lutus Cicero couldn’t do anything.

He cleanly gave up his ambition and acted as if nothing had happened, faithfully serving as the Sword Saint’s right hand.

So the indifferent Darien Deferth would never have guessed the flames burning in his heart.

No, even Lutus Cicero himself might not have guessed it, not until he faced the First Prince, who had reached out secretly.

‘It’s a pity that someone with your talent will remain forever a second. The Palma Knights need a generational change, too. It’ll be a great honor for the Cicero family.’

The eyes brimming with desire. An obvious proposal. The First Prince was not fit to be a king.

He could have stood up and rejected it.

But the moment he accepted the proposal, Lutus Cicero realized the magnitude of the longstanding grudge hidden in his heart.

Despair and crushed pride, the hatred they combined to form!

It was a suppressed emotion. If not for this opportunity, he would never have brought it out.

Lutus Cicero decided to seize the opportunity of a lifetime. Even if that opportunity would haunt him for life.

‘I’ll send you to hell.’

To the same hell he had experienced!

Lutus Cicero smiled bitterly.

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