Chapter 58: The Sword Festival (5)

Isaac chuckled softly at Liana's resolute response.

Honestly, there were times when he disliked her, even resented her.

But seeing her now, firmly resolved in her own way, he didn't find it entirely unpleasant.

Perhaps, it was the satisfaction of knowing that, at least once in his life, he had deeply loved someone who wasn't all that bad.

"Why… why are you laughing?"

Liana glanced at him and asked.

Shaking his head, Isaac returned to their earlier topic.

"And Liana, I will be participating in the Sword Festival."

It was now just past noon. In five to six hours, the festival would begin.

The event was not held in the mansion but in the forested mountain behind it.

A vast plain served as the dueling ground, though it hadn't always been that way.

Originally, it had been a dense forest.

However, in his youth, Arandel had swung his sword so fiercely that he obliterated every tree in the area, inadvertently creating the plain.

Since then, every Sword Festival under Arandel's leadership had been held there.

"It's dangerous."

"I know."

"Lohengrin is determined this time. He's going to do whatever it takes to hurt you—ugh, I mean, to injure you."

Liana hesitated, almost repeating Lohengrin's exact words, before hastily correcting herself.

"The one you should be fighting is Mother. You shouldn't push yourself too hard."

"No, this is why I returned to Helmut in the first place."

"Isaac…"

"There are rare moments when Jonathan and I actually agree on something."

Isaac suddenly smiled.

It was the same relaxed smile from that day on the boat, when they had spoken about similar things.

"It's when we talk about Helmut's strength."

"..."

"Helmut is strong not just because of its natural-born physique, but because they abandon everything else for the sword."

It was hard to deny.

Arandel Helmut, in particular, had always been indifferent to anything outside of the sword.

"I want to show them."

That among the things they discarded…

"Some were never meant to be thrown away."

Isaac had once been obsessed with Helmut.

His gaze slowly lowered to the lilac flowers growing vibrantly between them.

"Even though the season has passed, they continue to grow amidst the roses."

Just like him.

A bright smile spread across his face.

The Sword Festival.

It was meant to be a grand stage for Helmut, a garden where only roses were allowed to bloom.

Yet ironically, the most striking presence there was a single, defiant lilac.

Seeing his unwavering resolve, Liana finally took a step back.

"Fine. You're confident, right?"

"As they say, if you know you'll win before drawing your sword, there's no need to draw it."

"..."

It sounded profound, but in truth, it just meant he wasn't confident.

"Isaac, I have to ask just in case."

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever broken through Sharen's Crimson Descent before?"

"..."

Isaac scratched the corner of his eye, looking embarrassed.

"Ah, is it pollen allergies?"

***

Helmut Mansion's Back Mountain

A vast plain filled with a sea of people.

Helmut knights stood in formation, their rigid discipline forming a wall-like presence, resembling a massive red fortress.

The Helmut knights maintained order with absolute precision, while the nobles sat in their reserved seats, watching the matches.

Today was the semifinals.

The matchups:

Isaac, the son-in-law, versus Lohengrin, Helmut's eldest son.

Armin, Helmut's second son, versus Heirad.

Heirad was a royal guard, personally trained by the princess since she was young.

But regardless of his reputation, this was Helmut.

Most people predicted that the eldest and second son would meet in the finals.

"Oh, oh, oh no! S-Sir I-I-Isaac, I'm so nervous!"

Among the crowd, Isaac sat silently in his seat, while Jonathan fidgeted anxiously beside him.

Each participant had a Helmut knight assigned as their escort, and Jonathan was assigned to Isaac. Normally, someone of Jonathan's experience wouldn't qualify for such a role, but their close bond earned them special permission.

"You're not the one fighting, so why are you shaking?!"

Sharen snapped in frustration.

After spending the entire day by Galenia's side, Sharen had come to Isaac as soon as the Sword Festival began to offer him advice.

"Isaac, look at this."

"Hm?"

Pushing Jonathan aside, Sharen stood before Isaac and waved a white cloth.

"If you feel like you're really going to die, just call my name. I'll throw this in immediately."

"…If you throw that, does it end?"

"Wouldn't it? In war, waving a white flag means surrender. Ah! I could just wave it around a lot! Would that work?"

"Sigh, just go away."

For reference, the Sword Festival only ended when one combatant was knocked unconscious or completely incapable of fighting.

It was an Incredibly brutal method, which was why there were few participants.

The Helmut family had naturally strong bodies, so they healed quickly even if they were injured, and they could always use things like Roselixers if necessary. But ordinary people didn't have Helmut's monstrous regenerative abilities or sturdy physiques.

Participating here carelessly could easily ruin a knight's career.

"But why are you wearing that outfit? You should be wearing armor, but instead, you're in a coat?"

Sharen clicked her tongue as she looked at the new black coat Isaac was wearing.

"If Lohengrin sees that, he's going to be furious. He'll think you're mocking him."

"It's a strategic choice."

Isaac sighed as he responded.

"Wearing armor wouldn't make a difference. If I get hit, it's over anyway. And I won't be able to dodge as easily."

"Well, that's—"

Sharen tilted her head, muttering something.

"You're a genius, aren't you?"

"…"

"But what's with the design? Did you just pick this up from a market stall? Isaac, this is why you—"

"Liana gave it to me."

"…My Sister?"

"Yeah, she said it's made from the hide of a beast she hunted a long time ago. She meant to give it to me earlier but couldn't until now."

"…"

"She said it's from a beast that even withstood her Crimson Descent, so it should be able to endure Lohengrin's to some extent."

"My sister has better taste than I thought."

Normally, Isaac would have laughed at Sharen's sudden change in attitude.

But he couldn't do that now.

Not with everything regarding Millie and Galenia.

Whatever the case, none of this was something Sharen would be happy to hear.

So Isaac closed his eyes for a moment.

Before long—

Lohengrin stepped onto the plain that could be called the stage. At that moment, the crowd erupted in cheers, praising the likely future head of the Helmut family.

The Sword Festival wasn't like other martial tournaments with an official host.

Here, fighters simply stepped forward and battled once they were ready.

A brutally straightforward Helmut-style tradition.

"Ah, Isaac! You got this! Remember, if you call my name, I'll throw this right away!"

"Sir Isaac, you already defeated Bricalla! Stay strong!"

With their encouragement, Isaac stepped forward.

The rough plain, hardly worthy of being called a stage.

At the far end sat Arandel and Galenia, along with the other Helmut family members.

Among them was Liana, her hands clasped tightly together as if in prayer, watching Isaac intently.

"How Ridiculous."

Lohengrin smirked as he watched Isaac approach.

"It's not like we're putting on a show for others, nor is this a place where people would gather."

"…"

"This used to be our daily routine."

Back when he used to beat Isaac under the pretense of training, it had felt just like this.

Twisting the arm of a child was such an effortless act that Lohengrin should have found it tedious.

But if there was meaning behind it, then perhaps this time would feel different.

"After today, living a normal life will be impossible for you."

With that, Lohengrin's massive greatsword soared high into the sky.

Isaac couldn't even lift the massive greatsword with both hands.

Yet, seeing Lohengrin wield it effortlessly with just one hand, the crowd gasped in admiration and cheered.

"A perfect justification."

"..."

"If you carry the name of Helmut, even an idiot should at least pretend to wield a greatsword."

At Isaac's waist hung two blades.

One was Baekseol (White Snow), forged from Frostsilver.

The other was a practice sword crafted by Antonio, chosen simply because it seemed the most usable.

"No matter how brutally I crush you, it will be justified as defending Helmut's honor."

Isaac hadn't wielded a greatsword in the name of Helmut. That alone was enough to make it seem like he was disrespecting Helmut, and jeers about his qualifications poured in.

Yet, Arandel remained seated, resting his chin on his hand, without any reaction.

"You think you're something just because you slew one beast—!"

Lohengrin's greatsword cleaved through the sky.

At the same time, a vast surge of Crimson Descent Aura (Jeokgang) swallowed the sunset sky.

The sheer intensity of his aura spilled over, scattering like violent waves.

There was no signal to start the fight.

The greatsword simply came crashing down.

Even though the sword itself was far out of reach, his Crimson Descent Aura took the form of a blade, aiming to split Isaac's skull.

"...!"

Isaac crouched low and leapt aside in haste.

The only way to break through Crimson Descent was Iaido.

He had pierced through Bricalla's lightning strike with a single cut before—he had to believe it could reach this time too.

He kept moving swiftly.

"Helmut—!"

Lohengrin's bloodshot eyes locked onto Isaac.

The greatsword, once embedded in the ground, twisted its trajectory mid-air, now chasing him with a horizontal sweep.

"—Means to face one's enemy head-on!"

I can't dodge it!

Isaac's hand shot toward his waist.

Not for Baekseol, but for the practice sword.

With a Iaido, he struck back.

Clang!

"...!"

It wasn't even the real greatsword—just the Crimson Descent Aura projection—yet the practice sword shattered into countless fragments.

"Hah! W-What do we do now?! He doesn't have a weapon—!"

Jonathan's panicked voice rang out, but Isaac had no time to care.

He had managed to momentarily halt Lohengrin's onslaught by sacrificing one sword, but that was all.

Even as he bit his lip, he didn't panic despite losing a sword sooner than expected.

That sword was a disposable tool.

The real weapon was Baekseol.

He had to use it at the perfect moment—

"Tch, you damn bastard."

Lohengrin sneered at Isaac, who still hadn't drawn his true sword.

"You're entrusting your life to some cheap, nameless sword?"

"..."

"Caldias must be out of his mind, wasting Frostsilver on a sword like that."

Isaac didn't reply.

Every second Lohengrin wasted talking gave him time to regulate his breathing.

But in Lohengrin's eyes, filled with manic disdain, it was an unbearable sight.

"A sword that cut down a beast? Are you betting everything on that one strike you made by breaking your arm?"

"..."

"Disgusting."

Lohengrin despised Isaac, but he didn't disrespect the Sword Festival itself. That was his attitude toward the event and his respect for his father.

He knew everything.

He knew everything—how Isaac had defeated Bricalla in the north, what his sword was made of, and what he was aiming for.

"I see through you completely."

Lohengrin hoisted his greatsword onto his shoulder.

His eyes burned with rage.

"You're a failure. You're neither a knight nor a swordsman. You can't even think of clashing swords properly, just betting on a single lucky strike?"

"..."

"Killing one half-dead beast and thinking you're something special—what an ignorant, lowborn fool."

This time, Lohengrin's entire body radiated Crimson Descent Aura. The flames of contempt burning fiercely around him seemed ready to engulf Isaac at any moment.

"The fact that you thought a mere single strike could defeat a Helmut—how utterly insulting—!"

"Even if you kneel today! Even if you crawl on the ground! Even if you bark like a dog! Nothing will quell my fury—!"

Whoosh!

Suddenly.

Something flew in between the two.

Thud!

It struck the ground with force. A sword.

A sword Isaac had never seen before.

His eyes widened as he instinctively followed the trajectory of the thrown sword.

Among the crowd, Silverna was waving cheerfully with a bright smile.

"I couldn't even participate because of this, you know!"

"Silverna…!"

"Do your best! Piiikyaa!"

"...?"

Not understanding what she meant, Isaac calmly reached for the sword she had thrown.

It was hot.

It trembled as if alive, overflowing with an immense amount of mana, unable to contain its own energy.

And then—

As if recognizing its wielder, the blade crackled with lightning, letting out a cry.

The remains of Bricalla, left behind by Liana.

Isaac's second sword, forged from its remnants.

Clench.

Even as the searing heat burned his palm, a smile formed on Isaac's lips.

["A sword can't be too light, you fool!"]

Antonio must have only realized Isaac's true intentions after forging this blade.

["What kind of sword is this even meant for?"]

["It's not a Helmut greatsword, nor is it a standard two-handed sword. You wield it with one hand, but you don't carry a shield either."]

When Silverna read Isaac's written manual, she tilted her head in confusion, unable to comprehend it.

["It feels like the sword is getting clunky because you're trying too hard to embody Helmut."]

["Forget about Helmut. Just wield your sword as your own. You have more than enough talent for that!"]

Through Sharen, Liana advised Isaac not to be fixated on Helmut's swordsmanship.

"Hoo."

Now, he could finally answer their questions.

With a silent motion, Beakseol was drawn.

The Iaido, strictly speaking, could only be performed while the sword remained in its sheath.

Until now, he had never fully drawn it.

But now—it was time.

A sword in each hand.

Two swords, light yet sturdy, at last supporting him as a true swordsman.

As the Silent Sword.

What he once wrote, believing that one day it would become a reality, was now taking form.

A wind that would change the tide of battle began to blow.

In its warmth, a thought crossed his mind—

It would be nice if Millie could see this.

The warmth that Millie had given him.

"Is that all you've got?"

Meanwhile, Lohengrin ground his teeth in fury.

"Two swords? So what? What changes?!"

"...."

"How far are you planning to mock the name of Helmut?!"

But Lohengrin's roar never reached Isaac.

He was already replaying his sword techniques in his mind.

The ones he admired through Liana Helmut.

The teachings he followed from the Grand Master.

The inspiration he gained from Arandel Helmut's will.

As twilight set in—

The dark-haired swordsman stood bathed in the crimson hues of the setting sun.

And before anyone realized it—

His hair, painted red by the light—

Helmut.

In that moment—

Isaac was truly a Helmut.