Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 433 (Part 1):

“You said you were the disciple of Sword Saint Darien, didn’t you?”

“…That’s right.”

High Priest Agato spoke in a calm, measured tone.

“I was one of the high priests who sent him to the Forest of Roots. The others are already dead.”

To eliminate Sword Saint Darien, the Temple of Lumen had dispatched Dolos, who died in Basor four years ago, and Gascal, who perished in an unforeseen accident.

And then there was one more.

That one was still alive.

But it wasn’t Agato. He had never once set foot in the Kingdom of Basor.

‘But this way…’

He had two grand intentions.

The first: to shake the enemy’s spirit.

The second: to bear the sins of the Temple.

If his death was fated, he would carry the Temple’s filth with him to the grave. Glory was needed only by the living, not the dead.

Yet, surviving was the best outcome. There was no law forbidding one from struggling until their final breath.

Helmut’s gaze shifted, his eyes glinting with a new intensity.

“Then you have more than enough reason to follow those two.”

A murderous intent flared within him like a spark igniting dry tinder.

Without hesitation, Helmut lunged forward, thrusting his sword. Before he could close the distance, a surge of holy power erupted from High Priest Agato’s blade. But then—

‘It’s not swordsmanship?’

*Hwaaaaaa!*

Helmut had expected a swing of the sword, but he was caught off guard.

A blinding burst of sacred magic exploded directly in front of him, forcing Helmut to twist his body aside.

A spherical wave of sacred magic grazed his shoulder, narrowly missing him.

“Ugh.”

A searing pain made him grimace instinctively. It felt as though a massive, red-hot spear had raked across his skin.

He no longer had a protective barrier. His body and Vis were far from intact, leaving him uncertain how many times he could withstand sacred magic from a high priest of Agato’s caliber.

Today, Helmut might very well hit rock bottom for the first time in a long while.

His formidable presence had overwhelmed his enemies, but a moment of carelessness could mean death for him just as easily.

A faint smirk curled at the corner of Helmut’s lips.

“You know,” he said, “it was me who killed those two.”

High Priest Agato’s eyes widened in shock. Come to think of it… both had died under mysterious circumstances.

Dolos’s death in Basor was one thing, but Gascal’s demise was an utter enigma.

He had vanished, his traces erased completely. The Temple had speculated that two Archmages, enemies of the Temple, were responsible, but the incident seemed destined to remain an unsolved mystery.

“Wasn’t planned, but it just happened that way. Maybe Lumen wanted to give me a chance at revenge.”

Helmut’s mocking tone kept his gaze fixed on the high priest. As the truth about the two high priests’ deaths sank in, Agato’s face trembled with rage and shock.

“We should have killed you four years ago!”

Instead of sending him to the Forest of Roots. But before Agato could finish his outburst—

“Exactly.”

Seizing Agato’s moment of agitation, Helmut thrust forward.

*Kugugugugu!*

A deafening clash resounded.

A sacred barrier. It surged from Agato’s blade, blocking Helmut’s sword.

Sword against shield. Helmut’s Vis collided ferociously with Agato’s holy power.

Agato poured holy power into his barrier with such intensity that his face contorted. It was as if he sought to crush Helmut, the embodiment of evil, with holy power alone.

Helmut’s Vis, purified by the holy power, shimmered with a bluish-white light.

The searing flames of holy power began to penetrate his skin.

He had hoped to find an opening, but this had turned into a head-on confrontation—a battle disadvantageous to someone bearing the Seed of Darkness.

Yet, withdrawing his sword now would leave him vulnerable to a direct hit from Agato’s full-force sacred magic.

‘This might just work out.’

He would end it in one strike. Helmut tightened his grip on his sword.

Vis, drawn from the depths of his being, flowed into his blade—natural, yet overwhelmingly powerful.

From ashen gray to bluish-white. As the purification process unfolded before his eyes, Helmut pressed his sword downward with all his might.

The holy power Agato unleashed was neither refined nor precise. Helmut keenly discerned this weakness.

A faint crack appeared in the hemispherical barrier centered on Agato’s sword—a minuscule, needle-like fissure, as if torn apart.

*Kwazzzzik!*

Helmut twisted his sword, pressing harder. His Vis, seeping into the tiny cracks, began to widen them.

Precise and flawless control of Vis. His sword was steadily breaking through the barrier!

‘Impossible!’

Otaku_Tensei

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