Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 225 (Part 2):
It was an intensity that even Helmut felt pressured by. If he were to lose, by any tiny chance, the consequences were worrisome.
Of course, Helmut didn’t care about their wishes. Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t care at all, but there was something more important.
His mind needed to stay calm. Because Helmut was about to take action. Petty things like pride or expectations didn’t matter……
At least, that’s what he had thought.
But the moment he stepped onto the tournament arena, those kinds of thoughts vanished completely.
Seeing Helmut on the stage, Taren sneered disdainfully.
“Hello, Baden comrade. You’ve arrived?”
The tone of “arrived” was peculiar. Taren, with his hand on his waist, looked provocatively at Helmut.
“I thought you’d use the excuse of being sick to run away.”
“”Run away?”
“I heard you telling the instructors that your body wasn’t feeling well, that your condition wasn’t good so you might not be able to perform properly. But from what I saw, you don’t seem that bad off to me.”
“…..?”
He heard that? Helmut had been emphasizing to the instructors that his condition wasn’t good, trying to lessen the pressure on him.
He had shut his mouth when he almost got checked by Professor Luxen, but.
Helmut was too strong. And too healthy. There was no way he could find an excuse to lose to this guy or skip the tournament.
‘In many ways, it’s a tough situation to avoid.’
With the careless thought that he’d find a way somehow, Helmut had uncharacteristically come up on stage.
Since the senior tournament was being held simultaneously, this side was somewhat less crowded.
Taren still had an annoying look on his face.
“It’s not too late even now. Feel free to make an excuse. Why don’t you try running away? Wouldn’t avoiding be better for keeping your dignity than losing? If you drop out from the first round, your instructors will be embarrassed.”
Helmut had grown quite indifferent to provocations. He had encountered many provocations before.
But for some reason… he couldn’t let this one slide. Should he lose to this guy even after hearing such words?
Of course, losing was the right thing to do. The High Priest hadn’t appeared yet. There were many variables. Winning the swordsmanship tournament wouldn’t bring a huge reward. The reward was rather modest.
So, for his goal, it would be better to endure and back down.
However.
“After this match is over.”
“After it’s over?”
“I have a question to ask you. Will you answer?”
Helmut abandoned formalities. Taren was a third-year. He was older, but there was no need to respect someone who provoked him. He wasn’t Charlotte.
“Well, sure. I’m curious about the question.”
Taren made a sly expression. He still seemed confident.
The Greta selected members were considered inferior to the Matesis selected members. Matesis was the favorite to win.
Everyone thought so, except for the people from Greta Academy. Even Loen Academy only kept an eye on Matesis, not caring much about Greta.
Just as everyone thought, Taren thought so too. Moreover, hadn’t Greta refused this side’s duel proposal?
If Matesis was going to win anyway, they could have helped as a fellow academy from Baden.
For that trivial reason, the belligerent Matesis selected members held a grudge and provoked them.
It was okay to do that to Charlotte. Charlotte wasn’t that strong. But doing the same to Helmut was a different matter.
Soon, the announcement echoed.
“Matesis Academy’s representative Taren! Greta Academy’s representative Helmut! Start immediately when the signal sounds!”
Taren, who had been relaxed, suddenly focused and put his hand on his waist.
No matter how easy the opponent seemed, he had been trained not to be careless.
In contrast, Helmut was composed. He calmly placed his hand on the sword hilt.
Not Darian’s sword, but a newly purchased one. A good sword, but incomparable in quality.
But didn’t they say a carpenter doesn’t blame his tools? His sword was sharp enough to cut through a person’s neck.
‘I probably shouldn’t kill though.’
Helmut leisurely gripped the sword hilt. The comprehensive swordsmanship tournament was fought with real swords.
But according to the rules, killing was forbidden. Excessive cruelty and dismembering or torturing the opponent were also prohibited.
In unavoidable cases, casualties could happen, but that was literally unavoidable.
There was no need to use the sword either. Helmut knew a better way.
-Booooong!
Soon, the signal rang out. Helmut immediately sprang into action. His sword remained in its sheath.
Taren drew his sword. But that was the last thing he remembered.
Pak! The massive impact knocked him out instantly. The spinning vision found its place at some point.
‘What, what is this? What….’
The sky was upside down. When he regained consciousness, Taren realized he was lying on the stage, looking at the sky.
Excruciating pain shot through him. Helmut’s first sword strike was slamming the sword hilt into his head.
Helmut struck Taren’s falling body five times with the sword hilt. The pain was guaranteed.
Taren grimaced and groaned in agony. Indescribable pain spread throughout his body.
Helmut lightly pointed his sword at Taren’s neck. A calm question followed.
“What did you say earlier?”
Taren couldn’t answer. His pride was shattered, and he was in no condition to respond.
Soon, the familiar announcement echoed.
“Helmut wins!”
Helmut left the stage, leaving the fallen Taren behind.
A feeling of unease lingered. The plan had gone awry. It wasn’t that elaborate of a plan, but still.
‘Winning one round should be fine.’
There were still more matches. Even if he lost the next match, it wouldn’t be a big problem.
Helmut tried to justify himself.
His dropout plan had failed so far. And it was uncertain if it would succeed in the future.