Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 392 (Part 1):

Sian was unlucky. While he wasn’t the type to be eliminated in the first round of the main tournament, he had encountered a mage who had forcibly unsummoned his dark spirit.

This meant that the spirit, which had taken damage, couldn’t be summoned back to the physical realm for a while.

‘Without the Dark Spirit, I can’t use my concealment magic.’

The ability to hide his presence against swordsmen was incredibly useful. By shrouding the entire stage in darkness through the Dark Spirit and attacking, the swordsman would essentially be fighting blind.

But this particular mage was sharp enough to pinpoint the spirit’s location and neutralize its dark effects with powerful offensive magic. However, in doing so, the mage depleted all his own magical energy, leading to a quick conclusion.

Since controlling spirits determined the skill level of a spirit mage, Sian naturally relied heavily on them. And now, burdened by these circumstances, he had to face the second round.

Though rare and undeniably useful, the Dark Spirit wasn’t Sian’s only option. The real issue was that Sian wasn’t particularly skilled at direct combat using spirits.

“Don’t tarnish my name! You have to make it to the main tournament!”

Before the match, Asuka had raised his fist in a threatening manner. Sian had brushed it off nonchalantly, but he still had his pride. After all, he was the second-ranked student in the magic department at Greta Academy.

‘I may not look like much among these guys, but I’m no weakling.’

The competitors in this tournament, with its massive rewards, were anything but ordinary. But that didn’t mean Sian lacked the strength to compete—it just meant he’d need to gain more battle experience.

‘Consider this intensive training. Though why did my first opponent have to be…’

Sian frowned.

‘Of all people, I meet this guy again.’

His opponent recognized him too.

“I remember you. Though your skills aren’t particularly memorable.”

‘Talk about rotten luck.’

Sian sighed deeply inside. To face someone he had fought before—and of all people, the one who had defeated him!

The arrogant attitude reminded him of someone. Asuka, or someone like Asuka.

The man muttered with an expressionless, cold face.

“Asuka, was it? A spirit mage.”

Ironically, it was Sian who bore the name Asuka.

“To meet twice must mean something. Perhaps it’s a sign that I should cut you down.”

The man’s confident words were accompanied by his piercing golden eyes. A heavy, overwhelming aura faintly emanated from his entire body. The strange sensation he gave off was still there.

It was something different from the typical Vis of a swordsman. Yet, it was an indescribable, subtle sense of incongruity. It wasn’t Vis, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Having experienced it before, Sian knew well how strong this man was.

For a mage to defeat a swordsman stronger than themselves in a one-on-one fight was nearly impossible.

‘I was hoping this guy would face Asuka or Alea.’

He had already experienced this man’s strength in their first battle. Moreover, he couldn’t summon the Dark Spirit, so he’d have to fight with that limitation.

But if his assumption was correct, this man could see through spirits, rendering the Dark Spirit useless anyway.

‘Constraints are meaningless against someone I’ve already faced. Besides, I have…’

Sian slipped his hand into his pocket. He felt a solid object. He had prepared something after listening to Alea’s advice.

‘I’m not sure how effective it will be, but I’ll give it a shot.’

Losing helplessly like before wasn’t something he was willing to accept this time.

‘Let’s see a bit more of his strength.’

Perhaps he could figure out what kind of power this man possessed. His throat tightened with tension.

Soon, the signal to start the match rang out.

*

“Everyone, step back!”

“Move aside, everyone!”

After the screams, there was silence. Then, chaos. The medical team rushed in, pushing through the crowd to carry away the injured.

Amid the murmuring crowd, the man looked down at the ground with cold eyes.

What remained on the stage were scattered traces of blood. The bleeding was severe enough to be life-threatening.

The man, now alone, brushed his thumb across his cheek. A sharp wind had grazed him, leaving a faint cut. Blood seeped from the wound.

Seeing the blood on his thumb, the man’s brow furrowed in displeasure.

“How dare you.”

His low voice carried a sharp edge as his golden eyes flashed with anger.

A despicable spirit mage. He had brought a useful tool to compensate for his lack of skill.

He had unsummoned Sian’s three spirits and charged forward without hesitation to cut down their master.

The man intended to end the match quickly, as he always did.

However, he had made one mistake. He had underestimated the spirit mage. Sian possessed more than just spirits.

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