Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 387 (Part 2): Standing by the Sword

Their exchange was brief. As he stepped out of the room, Asuka—who’d already fought in the preliminaries the day before and passed with ease—stood waiting across the hall. His expression shifted oddly when he saw Alea emerge alongside Helmut.

“What’s this, a morning date?”

Helmut didn’t bother denying it and shot him an irritated glance.

“What do you want?”

“I’m tagging along to watch you in the prelims. Your face looks stiff—don’t tell me you’re nervous?”

“How can you see my expression through the mask?”

As Helmut pointed out the obvious, Asuka grinned.

“Just kidding. The prelims were a breeze, though—these guys here are pretty pathetic, huh?”

Asuka had indeed breezed through his preliminary round. Honestly, no one in Helmut’s group would find the prelims remotely challenging.

They could have skipped prelims if they’d had recognized credentials—belonging to a famous knightly order or holding a high mercenary rank. But none among Helmut’s group possessed that qualification, so they all had to go through the prelims.

Sian approached from the other side.

“Hope I don’t end up facing you.”

His face, set to compete in the prelims on the same day as Helmut, was etched with worry. The preliminary matchups were determined by a daily draw.

They only knew which day they’d fight, not who their opponent would be until they showed up.

“It’s not like losing once ends your run, but if luck’s against you, you might face a string of tough opponents and get eliminated,” Asuka chimed in, offering curses instead of comfort. Ignoring him, Sian turned to Helmut.

“By the way, what alias did you pick?”

One thing Helmut’s group had in common was that they were all hiding their identities to participate in the tournament. Sian didn’t need to, but since he was sharing accommodations with them and rumors of their friendship had already spread, he had no choice but to join in. Not that he was reluctant—he was quite enthusiastic about it.

“I swapped names with Sian,” Asuka said.

After racking his brain for a decent alias and coming up short, Asuka had settled on the simple solution of using each other’s names.

He’d compete as Sian, and Sian as Asuka.

It was a choice that might confuse others more than it symbolized friendship. Charlotte, upon hearing their plan, had given them a look that said, ‘I have thoughts, but I’ll keep them to myself.’ Neither of them minded, though.

Asuka was just too lazy to come up with something original,

‘And a spirit mage named Asuka? That’ll be fun,’ Sian thought, embracing the situation with glee.

Helmut glanced aside briefly before answering curtly.

“Dark.”

Asuka’s reaction was immediate and unimpressed.

“…What’s that?”

“I went with Violet,” Alea interjected, pointing to herself before Asuka could criticize further.

For her preliminary round, she’d disguised herself similarly to how she had during the Greta Academy festival—a girl with pale purple hair.

Sian rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Maybe we should’ve gone with colors too. Blue for the blue-haired Asuka, and Green for me. A spirit mage feels like a Green, right?”

“Because you’re an earth-element spirit mage, wouldn’t Gold or Brown suit you better?” Asuka suggested.

“Nah, those don’t sound cool.”

“Is there anything cool about naming yourself after a color in the first place?”

“Fair point. Using your name isn’t exactly cool either.”

“What’s wrong with my name? ‘Spirit Mage Asuka’ has a nice ring to it! Yours is the one that sounds too weak for a swordsman.”

“You’re the one who suggested swapping, and now you’re trashing my name?”

Amid their bickering over aliases, Helmut headed toward the preliminary venue.

When the registrar asked for his name, Helmut replied succinctly.

“Dark.”

Even for an alias, it felt overly simplistic. A man with jet-black eyes and a gray mask exuding an imposing aura introducing himself as “Dark” left the registrar momentarily flustered.

“Dark… Dark, is it? Even if that’s a pseudonym, maybe… oh, never mind.” He stopped himself, confirming it didn’t break any rules, and threw up his hands. “Better than Black, I suppose. You’ve got a sense of humor. Good luck.”

It was Helmut’s first appearance. He hadn’t imagined he’d find himself in a tournament like this again after leaving the Forest of Roots.

His fingers itched with anticipation. It had been a while since he last competed, and the feeling was refreshing.

Just as Basor’s Sword Saint didn’t participate in tournaments, Helmut was now beyond the level of vying for supremacy in such events.

Yet he found himself enjoying the faint tension in the air at this tournament. It stirred a flicker of excitement within him.

‘The sword’s been freshly prepared.’

He couldn’t use Darien’s sword, which Charlotte had returned to him, for the time being. There were those who could recognize him by the sword alone.

Instead, Helmut had picked up a decent weapon from a nearby blacksmith. A true master didn’t fuss over tools.

‘Darien’s swordsmanship should stay hidden too.’

But would he even need to reveal his techniques? A quick glance at the preliminary participants told him all he needed to know.

*Weak.* Since his opponents weren’t demonic beasts, he’d have to hold back—perhaps not even draw his sword.

In the end, Helmut cleared the prelims that day without unsheathing his blade.

A single punch to a vital spot dropped his opponent like a ragdoll, leaving them crumpled on the ground.

The crowd was left in shock and awe, while the registrar was struck with a single question.

‘He registered as a swordsman, but was he actually a martial artist? He’s carrying a sword at his waist, though…’

The answer to that mystery would reveal itself in time.

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