Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 415 (Part 1):

Upon returning to his quarters, Alea was waiting for him.

Though she had lived her entire life as a commoner, there was an air of ease about her, as if she were in her own home.

The attendants standing nearby, bowing respectfully, seemed to have already accepted Alea’s position.

Well, being revered was an everyday occurrence for her at Greta Academy, so this was hardly anything special.

“Sian went inside to rest.”

Sian, ever so oblivious, could never have imagined that Helmut had gone straight to confront Michael upon his return.

Even Michael, the Grand Prince of Renosa, would hardly expect such a matter to be settled privately.

“There’s blood on you.”

Alea stared intently at Helmut’s wrist.

Though he had roughly wiped the blood from his hands, faint traces of it lingered on his clothes.

“Ah.”

Alea lifted her gaze. The light in her eyes, as if piercing through his very soul, struck deeply. They shimmered with a mystical violet hue.

She asked softly, “Will that be enough for you?”

As if she had already grasped everything. Helmut met her gaze silently before responding.

“It’s not entirely satisfying, but how about beating him every time I see him?”

“Then, wouldn’t it be better to just kill him,” she said.

A chilling smile flickered across Alea’s lips before vanishing.

Four years ago, Renosa’s betrayal had enraged her to the point of wanting to burn Latona to ashes.

The only reason she had held back was because rescuing Helmut from the Forest of Roots took precedence.

Even now, if Helmut desired vengeance, she would willingly become his weapon.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Mages were, more than anyone, a ruthless breed.

Thus, Helmut’s decision seemed far too lenient in her eyes.

The despair Helmut had felt back then—Alea, too, had tasted that pain.

It was a pain so great that she had poured her all into the reckless challenge of entering the Forest of Roots just to forget it.

‘And this is all?’

Even beneath a glacier-frozen earth, deep within lies molten lava. Alea was swallowing that fire.

Seeing the cold heat in her eyes, Helmut spoke calmly.

“I’m not sparing Michael out of some generous heart. This is to avoid giving the Temple any pretext.”

To bring despair to Margret, killing Michael would be a more fitting revenge.

But Helmut had other considerations.

“Rather than being seen as a cold-blooded killer who slays his own kin without tears, this shows I’m controlling the Seed of Darkness.”

Even if it was pretense, the warm word *forgiveness* could sway people’s hearts.

Helmut needed to be seen as the rightful heir to Renosa.

The mercy he showed would lend strength to his legitimacy.

To forgive even the brother who drove him to ruin—would that not be proof he wasn’t dominated by the Seed of Darkness?

Helmut had calculated this as well.

“Even the Temple won’t be able to deny the fact that I am controlling the Seed of Darkness.”

In truth, it was neither mercy nor a naive choice that might leave embers for a future succession dispute.

Helmut had chosen the optimal path. And he laid it bare before Alea.

Only then did a satisfied smile grace Alea’s lips.

“You’re right.”

Her eyes gleamed with the look of one acknowledging growth.

There was a time when Helmut had struggled to pass Greta Academy’s ethics exams under Alea’s teasing, but now he could weigh legitimacy and justification even beyond morality. It was a poignant moment.

“Now we just wait to see how the Temple reacts.”

Helmut replied in a relaxed tone. Somehow, the way he tilted his chin as he spoke seemed almost arrogant.

Alea, narrowing her eyes at the sight, soon smiled and suggested, “Until then, Helmut, you should take some etiquette lessons. You’ll need to get used to your position.”

At those words, Helmut’s face stiffened involuntarily, recalling the ordeal Asuka had endured.

*

It was a few hours later when Charlotte learned that Helmut had gone to see Michael.

Having finished reporting to the Grand Duke about the martial tournament, Charlotte was overcome with a strange sense of nostalgia as she left the audience chamber.

The royal castle. It had been so long since she’d returned.

Not having visited even once in four years, the royal castle of Latona, her homeland, felt unfamiliar.

Thus, as she wandered the castle grounds to reacquaint herself, she sensed a commotion from the direction of Michael’s quarters.

“Lord Michael has been gravely injured.”

When she stopped a hurrying maid, the girl stammered an explanation, adding that healers and mages had rushed to Michael’s side.

Even without the full context, Charlotte instantly understood what had happened.

She immediately sought out Michael. The healers were just leaving his room as she arrived.

Charlotte pushed open the closing door and stepped inside.

Lying sprawled on a sofa, he had just finished receiving treatment.

As a Grand Prince of Renosa, even a near-fatal wound could be healed as long as he still drew breath, thanks to the finest healing available.

The pain was fleeting. Despite Helmut’s relentless beating, Michael already appeared outwardly fine.

Yet, though the bruises had faded from his healed face, it was drained of color.

“Charlotte.”

Upon seeing her, Michael frowned.

Meeting his kin after four years, he felt not joy but irritation.

In a state where he could collapse at any moment, his nerves were frayed.

And now Charlotte had barged in unannounced.

Perhaps out of worry for him, who might have died?

She, who had haughtily left for Greta Academy and hadn’t returned in four years. As expected, she was weak and soft. Still.

Michael sank into a scornful mood.

Charlotte gazed at him silently and called his name.

“Michael.”

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