Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 430 (Part 1):

“The enemy is coming this way.”

“Good. That makes things easier.”

“If he’s surrounded by the Black Wing Knights, dragging him out would’ve cost us dearly.”

“Eliminate him, and Renosa’s morale will crumble.”

The High Priests viewed the situation optimistically. To charge in alone, so isolated—what arrogance.

No matter how skilled he was, his opponent was the Temple of Lumen.

To those who wielded the power of darkness, they were the ultimate predators. His fearsome prowess was undeniable, but never before had the Temple deployed such forces to take down a single foe.

Before five High Priests, he would melt alive, leaving not even bones behind.

Yet, unlike their confidence, the circumstances of the underlings facing Helmut were far less favorable.

They couldn’t simply let him break through the heart of the Temple’s army.

They had to pin him down to give sacred magic a chance to strike true.

At the very least, they needed to exhaust his strength before he reached the High Priests.

But those who stood in Helmut’s path didn’t even have time to scream before they perished.

As long as one drew breath, they could be revived. But the dead could not.

Helmut’s blade was merciless, never missing its mark.

His sword was like the scythe of a reaper.

Absolute death. Those who blocked his path died without exception.

“Kraaagh!”

“Die!”

Helmut’s momentum, charging straight toward the High Priests, was overwhelming.

*Crack!* *Crunch!* *Boom!*

Seized by fear and awe, those who rushed at him like moths to a flame had their throats pierced and were flung back, armor and all.

*Hiiiiiing!*

Amid the chaos of maddened horses, charging Holy Knights, and soldiers, the battlefield was a crucible of pandemonium.

Helmut furrowed his brow. At last, the high ground was in sight.

But even he was winded. No matter how he dodged and struck, holy power was a force that gnawed at him from his very core.

It was the first time his Vis had depleted so rapidly.

No, perhaps not the first. It had been like this when he passed through the sacred barrier. An unpleasant sensation surged through his entire body.

Helmut steadied his breathing and glared ahead.

The High Priests stood together, their formation unbroken, observing the scene as if detached.

As if they were certain he could never reach them.

Indeed, the priests in the rear had scarcely fallen. Only the Holy Knights and soldiers were dying.

‘Does the name of a holy war numb their minds?’

With a single stroke, Helmut severed an enemy’s throat and pierced a heart through a gap in armor.

His sole aim was to conserve strength, but was it a problem that he killed too cleanly, without mutilating limbs?

Even seeing this, the enemies didn’t retreat. Instead, they charged as if intoxicated by a drug.

A force so unshaken by fear was rare indeed. That much, he had to acknowledge.

‘Where did that guy go?’

Helmut noticed that Levant, who had doggedly pursued him, had vanished at some point.

He considered the possibility that Levant might target the Grand Duke, but that guy wasn’t that bold.

While Helmut charged toward the High Priests, Levant wouldn’t dare plunge into Latona’s forces.

Unlike Helmut, his power wasn’t absolute.

‘It’s starting again.’

Helmut’s gaze sharpened once more.

In the brief moment he slowed to catch his breath, sacred magic rained down on him.

*Kiaaang!*

The holy power he slashed apart scattered into the air like scraped metal.

The holy energy, spreading like mist, stung his eyes and nose like acrid smoke.

It burned. His senses dulled for a moment.

‘Two… no, three!’

In that instant, amid his dulled senses, Helmut sensed three Holy Knights surrounding and lunging at him.

The brief moment he had slowed had given them time to form their ranks.

But he had more than enough strength to deal with them. Helmut’s sword swept horizontally.

It shattered the first Holy Knight’s blade and slit the second’s throat.

*Shaaaa!*

A fountain of blood sprayed, staining the air red.

But the third Holy Knight remained. And, twisting at an angle, a parabola of sacred magic descended toward him.

‘This is getting tiresome.’

Helmut leapt from his horse and dove beneath the third Holy Knight, still mounted.

*Crack!*

His sword smashed through armor and plunged into the knight’s gut, causing the blade swinging down at Helmut to lose its strength.

The Holy Knight’s body slumped limply, collapsing onto Helmut. At that moment, sacred magic surged toward them.

The dying knight gripped Helmut’s sword tightly with both hands.

There wasn’t enough time to pull it free and swing again.

Helmut summoned the Vis from his entire body.

*Hwaaaa!*

A sharp, burning pain assaulted him, as if acid had been poured over him.

As the sacred magic struck, Helmut yanked his sword free and hurled the knight’s body aside.

*Kudangtang!*

He swiftly mounted a horse and galloped forward.

*Hiiiihiiing!*

The horse, now with a new master, neighed loudly as it charged across the battlefield.

Helmut instinctively touched his shoulder.

When the sacred magic had hit, it had pierced his armor, leaving a faint wound on his shoulder.

The holy power had burned the faint demonic energy in his body, scarring his skin as well.

In all the long hours of battle, this was the first wound Helmut had sustained. It stung as if burned.

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