Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 398 (Part 2):

Helmut kicked off the ground and leaped. His eyes, in contrast to the giant’s, remained calm.

‘Shall I end it now?’

He had drained enough of the giant’s strength. Now it was time to take the prey’s life. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten this was a tournament.

The giant’s body was sturdy and broad enough that ordinary wounds wouldn’t kill him.

‘I’ll make sure he surrenders.’

After expending such a torrent of Vis, the giant would need a moment to recover, and in that gap lay Helmut’s victory.

Helmut, leaping forward as if flying, aimed to close the distance and plunge into the giant’s body.

But for a moment, Helmut was taken aback. The attack he thought was over had resumed. The detached axe blade, now a separate weapon, was flying toward him, its edge gleaming.

There was no time to change direction mid-air to dodge.

‘I have to block it.’

Vis surged through Helmut’s sword. The center of the blade met the center of the axe head with perfect precision.

*Crash!* It was less like metal clashing and more like boulders colliding.

Had there been even the slightest misalignment, the sword would have shattered into pieces against the solid metal.

His arm went numb. The impact pushed his leg, which had just landed, backward.

‘He threw his weapon…?’

At that moment, Helmut felt the giant’s strike aiming for his abdomen.

Where the axe blade had flown, a sharp, spear-like tip now protruded.

It seemed to be a hidden trump card, like a concealed dagger. The giant’s strike, now freed from the heavy axe, was frighteningly fast.

For a moment, Helmut almost failed to react.

‘But that couldn’t be.’

Helmut immediately dismissed the thought. He was only slightly surprised. It was an unexpected move from an otherwise predictable opponent. It was only polite to act a little surprised, wasn’t it?

‘Time to end this.’

His legs tensed. His upper body, which had leaned back as if losing balance, swung forward, and his sword moved as if sliding through his hand.

He could block again, but there was an easier way.

Helmut naturally deflected the spear tip and closed the distance. In an instant, he was right in front of the giant.

The bulging muscles seemed ready to push Helmut away from that threatening proximity.

But the giant couldn’t do anything.

Because Helmut’s sword, rising diagonally from below, had stopped right in front of the giant’s right eye.

A silence devoid of any sound. In a single breath, the trajectory shifted from defense to offense.

It was a process that took place in the blink of an eye. Not flashy or overt, just a sword aimed solely at victory.

Soon, the giant let out a single cry. A mix of astonishment and terror.

“Guh! Wh-what?”

For a moment, it felt like he had gone blind. All he could see was something flashing before his eyes.

But the cold aura of the blade, as if it would tear through his fragile eyeball, made him realize what it was.

How could it be so fast? The question quickly produced an answer.

He was facing a truly strong swordsman.

The premonition that had been slowly building finally revealed itself in a chilling shock.

The iron masked man before him was strong. Strong enough that even he, a platinum-ranked mercenary, couldn’t immediately sense it. Strong enough to hide his own strength. A swordsman with an overwhelmingly superior skill level.

It was only now that the giant realized it.

Helmut, with his sword still trained on the giant eyes, asked leisurely, “You can’t reinforce your eyes, can you?”

Back in the day, even Naho’s weakness had been his eyes.

Helmut’s sword, shimmering with Vis, hovered before the giant’s pupil. The trembling pupil had only a needle’s width of space left. The perfect position to force an admission of defeat.

Even the most seasoned warrior would freeze at the sight of a sharp blade stopping right before their eye.

As Helmut intended, the giant, frozen in place, finally spoke after a moment.

“I… I lose.”

It was a voice so subdued, it was hard to believe it came from the same man who had been raging and destroying the stage just moments ago.

Only then did Helmut lower his sword and return it to his waist. The organizers, who had been overwhelmed by the giant’s ferocity, reacted belatedly.

“Dark, victory!”

Helmut didn’t offer a handshake, and the giant had no intention of accepting one.

But cheers poured out for both of them.

The cries celebrating the mysterious iron-masked man filled the arena, reaching even the skies above. It was as if they were blessing him, a rising favorite to win the tournament.

“…Damn brat.”

The giant muttered as if spitting out the words. The glimpse of his jawline, the skin below his ear, his hands—it was clear he was a young man, presumably lacking in experience.

It wasn’t that the giant had underestimated him—he just never imagined the masked fighter had been hiding such incredible skill.

It was a sword that could only be described as extraordinary. The shock made him forget even his anger.

As Helmut turned to leave the stage, he threw out a question he had postponed earlier.

“So, will you answer my question now?”

“Question?”

“Did you shave your head, or were you always bald?”

‘You son of a—’

The giant’s face twisted in frustration. But under the oppressive gaze of the victor, who seemed to assert his right to an answer, he reluctantly spat out,

“…I shaved it ‘cause I’m balding.”

Resentment filled the giant’s eyes.

To make it worse, the masked man clearly had a full head of hair. The giant loathed him all the more for it.

But Helmut couldn’t understand why the giant was so upset. Tilting his head, Helmut turned his back.

The next match was the one he had been most eager to avoid and the one he expected to be the most challenging in this tournament.

After Alea, there was the final. And in that final, there was a moment he had been longing for.

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