Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 434 (Part 1):

The battle was over. His intuition, as always, proved correct. He would return as the victor.

Helmut sheathed his sword at his waist and muttered, “Revenge has been achieved.”

The High Priest he had slain was named Paolo—one of the High Priests who had sent Darien to the Forest of Roots.

Dolos’ own words confirmed it, so there could be no mistake.

Wasn’t his return, then, a chance granted by the heavens to complete his vengeance?

‘Or perhaps a chance bestowed by Lumen,’ he thought wryly.

Ironically, Lumen seemed to be on Helmut’s side.

After passing through the sacred barrier for the second time, everything had unfolded smoothly.

It was as if the flow of the world had tilted in Helmut’s favor. Strangely, his mind was clear, as though a fog obscuring his vision had lifted completely.

Helmut took a step forward without thinking. At that moment—

“Ugh.”

A groan escaped through gritted teeth. The pain he had forgotten surged back, hot and overwhelming.

The trace of sacred magic that had struck his back left a vivid mark on his body. His flesh burned as if seared by a branding iron, and his bones ached with a dull throb.

That searing pain was something he would never forget.

In the instant Paolo’s sacred magic struck him by surprise, Helmut faced a crisis.

Having just broken through Agato’s sacred barrier, his reactions were inevitably sluggish.

The sacred magic that slammed into his back sent his body flying.

The sacred magic burrowed into his skin, consuming it as it dug deeper.

Its potent purification power seemed intent on melting away all the demonic energy rooted within him.

His Vis struggled desperately to resist, but having already allowed the sacred power to infiltrate, defense was no easy task.

But then, something unexpected happened. The bracelet on his wrist shattered into pieces.

*Crash!*

The bracelet’s magic manifested a protective barrier around Helmut’s body, repelling the sacred power.

Unlike demonic energy, magic wasn’t so easily overwhelmed by sacred power. Though it wasn’t a grand spell, it was enough to disrupt the sacred magic slightly.

Helmut summoned his Vis and shook off the sacred power, then launched himself forward.

Toward the High Priest who had turned his back. His sword remained firmly in his grip.

What happened next was evident in the scene before him now.

Frowning against the pain, Helmut silently repeated her name in his mind.

‘Alea…’

She, wherever she was, had helped him. No, he had a sense of where she might be.

The Temple’s hasty retreat was no coincidence.

He would need to hear an explanation when he returned—about the bracelet as well.

Helmut looked down at his bare wrist, now unfamiliar without the bracelet. There was a time he had considered it a shackle.

Yet today, that bracelet had fulfilled its purpose.

For the first time in a long while, he felt as though he had poured out every ounce of his strength. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him.

“Anyway, I won.”

Helmut had accomplished what he set out to do.

A strange, cool breeze stirred in his chest, but Helmut was satisfied with that.

* * *

The Temple’s forces were retreating. Alonso, the commander of the Black Wing Knights, let out a breath and surveyed the battlefield.

There was no leeway to pursue the enemy and cling to their heels.

‘What happened?’

They had been at an absolute disadvantage. Though they had held their ground well, time would have naturally pushed them back.

Yet the Temple’s army was retreating. That signified both Renosa’s victory and the Temple’s defeat.

Alonso slowly pieced together the current situation with what had come before.

Helmut, the spark of this war, had vanished into the midst of the enemy.

His Vis, rising like a gray mist enveloping his sword, was awe-inspiring, parting the enemy like the sea splitting to form a path.

The people of Renosa who witnessed it trembled with awe.

That was the heir of Renosa. The one who called himself the Sword Saint.

But they couldn’t recklessly follow him as he disappeared into the Temple’s army.

If they were surrounded, their numerical disadvantage would leave them with no way out.

‘Don’t concern yourself with my actions. Focus on commanding the troops.’

Before the battle began, Helmut had given him that instruction.

Alonso followed his words. With the Grand Duke in the rear, they couldn’t afford to stretch their forces thin.

Though no war was without sacrifice, minimizing it was his role.

‘Keep the troops tightly grouped, break through the front, and follow the Grand Prince.’

Even if it was slow, it was better to advance as a united force than to scatter and falter.

The Black Wing Knights and Renosa’s soldiers fought fiercely.

Because Helmut had charged through the Temple’s army, scattering them once, the enemy couldn’t fully focus on Alonso’s forces. That, of course, made them easier to handle.

Thanks to that, they had held out remarkably well—so well that, for a moment, they felt they had the upper hand.

But their Vis and stamina were finite, and the enemy’s numbers were relentlessly vast.

Sacred magic revived fallen enemies, infusing them with strength as long as they weren’t dead. That was why the Temple’s army was so formidable.

But Helmut had surpassed their strength.

A direct charge toward the High Priests at the heart of the Temple’s army.

That success was why they were retreating now, wasn’t it?

‘Then what of the Grand Prince?’

Growing anxious, Alonso spurred his horse forward.

Even if Helmut had died and the Temple had achieved its true goal, this retreat made no sense.

The Temple would have seized the Grand Duke of Renosa and placed Michael on the throne without hesitation.

Ahead, he saw a figure standing tall.

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