Chapter 59: The Sword Festival (6)

The mountain winds and the crimson energy collided, creating a swirling tempest.

It was a spectacle that would normally require the combined efforts of several mages from the Magic Tower, yet here it was, erupting around a single greatsword.

"This is Helmut—!"

"He's insane."

"Hah."

The gasps from the audience and nobles were filled with admiration for Lohengrin's prowess. Yet, there was little to no reaction directed at Isaac, who stood right in front of it.

"Young Lady, what do you think?"

Anna asked Silverna. Since Silverna had fought and defeated Lohengrin a few years ago, Anna thought she might have some insight.

"...He's completely different."

Silverna honestly felt as though he had become an entirely different person.

Lohengrin's sword had grown several times stronger than when she had defeated him.

It had truly become a greatsword worthy of the name Helmut, radiating a deep crimson aura.

This growth stemmed from Lohengrin's desire for recognition.

His longing to turn back the gaze of his father, who always looked at him with disappointment, and the fear of being overshadowed by his younger sister drove him relentlessly.

'What do you think, Father?'

Lohengrin's eyes turned toward Arandel.

Even though he was facing a somewhat inferior opponent, Helmut was not just about securing victory. It was about overwhelming dominance—a force so awe-inspiring that it commanded reverence from all who witnessed it.

Thus, the praises from the audience brought a smile to Lohengrin's lips. However, Arandel Helmut remained unmoved, his expression indifferent, his chin resting on his hand. His lack of reaction, or rather, his increased disinterest, made Lohengrin's heart sink.

Clench!

Lohengrin gritted his teeth. His grip on the greatsword tightened. Despite years of effort and struggle to solve the problem before him, he still couldn't find the answer.

"Gaaaaah!"

Lohengrin swung his greatsword at Isaac, venting his frustration as usual.

The crimson flame wave unleashed was incomparable to Sharen's in both size and density. Its deep red hue resembled that of the Helmut family head's, but…

"...."

Isaac's twin swords flashed, especially the left one, Bricalla, which crackled with overflowing mana.

Zap! Zap! Zap!

The moment Isaac swung his sword, the electricity that had been held back erupted violently in all directions.

The crimson flame wave and the lightning clashed.

A deafening roar erupted between them, and a wave of dust and debris surged outward, momentarily obscuring the view. The audience gasped, but it seemed clear who had the upper hand.

After all, Lohengrin's crimson flame wave had crushed the ground where Isaac stood.

Was he dead?

The worry naturally crossed the audience's minds, but…

Clang!

The sound came from Lohengrin's direction. As the dust settled, Isaac was seen swinging his sword toward Lohengrin.

Lohengrin gritted his teeth.

"My crimson aura—!"

No response.

Isaac was completely focused on the battle, reading the next move as if he were writing a manuscript.

'Just one step ahead.'

Though the output was incomparable to Sharen's crimson flame wave, the fundamental principles of the technique were the same.

The moment Isaac gripped his mana-infused sword, countering it wasn't difficult.

But people didn't call Helmut the strongest just for firing crimson aura from a distance.

"Close combat with Helmut?"

"Huh, I would never dare."

The murmurs from the surroundings were filled with disbelief. Engaging in close combat with Helmut's greatsword was like smashing an egg against a rock.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The relentless clash of steel against steel seemed like it would end soon.

"...Huh?"

"Hmm."

"Heh."

Yet, the exchange continued. The swords of the two men clashed without pause, but few in the audience believed Isaac had the upper hand.

To put it simply, it looked like a turtle's shell being relentlessly hammered.

No matter how much Isaac swung his sword, Lohengrin's greatsword and crimson aura showed no signs of breaking. The situation seemed almost playful, and smirks began to form on the faces of the onlookers.

But in reality—

"You damn…!"

Lohengrin's movements were tinged with impatience. While most of the audience didn't understand, those well-versed in swordsmanship couldn't help but marvel at the situation.

Isaac was engaging in a direct confrontation with Helmut's greatsword.

It was like walking a tightrope where a single misstep would mean the end. The fact that Isaac was continuously swinging his sword meant one thing: Lohengrin's sword couldn't reach him.

Whoosh!

Again.

Lohengrin's greatsword sliced through the air. This time, he was certain he had struck, but Isaac had already leaped into the air, swinging his sword.

Clang! Clang!

The crimson aura acted as both a sharp spear and a sturdy armor. Isaac's sword was futilely blocked by the aura, but as soon as he landed, he moved again.

Lohengrin's greatsword, swung a beat too early, only cut through the dust as Isaac evaded once more.

"Haha! Look at that!"

"It's pitiful how he's dodging."

"If he's slower than the greatsword, that says it all. He doesn't deserve to be there."

"Roengrin's still holding back because they belong to the same household."

It was obvious to anyone that Isaac was slower than Lohengrin's greatsword. Helmut's physical abilities allowed him to wield the greatsword while being faster than Isaac—so much so that it seemed almost unfair to some.

Yet, despite that, Lohengrin's greatsword couldn't touch Isaac.

***

"Heirad."

At the very center of the VIP seats, Clarice, who was seated next to Heirad—the one who would face Helmut's second son in the second round—called out while fidgeting with her lips.

"Heirad."

"...."

"Heirad?"

"Ah, yes! Your Highness!"

It took three calls before her knight finally responded.

"My apologies, I was so focused that I didn't notice."

Normally, she would have scolded him, but Clarice noticed his clenched fist and nodded, turning her gaze back to the two swordsmen.

"The airflow feels strange."

"...."

"It's very subtle, but those who are strong, especially the Helmut knights, all seem to have sharpened their senses."

A tension that made her skin crawl. Sensing that something was amiss outside the arena, Clarice quickly gave instructions.

"Galenia might be scheming something. If the Helmut knights side with her, it could disrupt our plans. Be prepared."

Heirad gave a bitter smile at the princess's words. The princess undoubtedly possessed exceptional abilities.

Her ability to sense even the slightest change in the air was remarkable, but perhaps due to her youth or lack of experience, she often stumbled when it came to synthesizing information and drawing conclusions.

"Your Highness, this is… not what you think."

"Hm?"

"Thanks to you taking me in and raising me from a young age, I've had the opportunity to see and learn far more than most."

"What's this all of a sudden?"

"I've heard about, learned, and experienced many swordsmanship styles, but Helmut is the only one I've never touched."

The princess's eyes widened slightly. From her perspective, it was hard to understand why one wouldn't study the kingdom's strongest sword.

In truth, many knights say there's nothing to learn from Helmut's swordsmanship—specifically, the swordsmanship of Helmut's direct lineage.

Because it's futile.

"Their swordsmanship isn't something that can be imitated or learned."

Even knights serving directly under the Helmut were fundamentally different from the direct bloodline.

Their strength was innate.

That is why Helmut were called great.

Especially now, with Lohengrin showing glimpses of Arandel's prowess. Frankly, there are only a handful in the kingdom who could withstand Lohengrin's sword right now.

The great Helmut.

Born to wield the sword. Strength as their very purpose.

To the knights of the kingdom, they are objects of admiration and insurmountable mountains.

"You're exaggerating. Even the direct lineage of Helmut has lost before."

"That's true. But…"

Those who have never wielded or learned their swordsmanship wouldn't understand. Defeating someone from the direct lineage doesn't mean you've overcome Helmut's swordsmanship.

Heirad fell silent for a moment.

If he were to ask the other martial artists present, they would likely remain silent as well, unable to explain.

"If I had to put it into words… this spectacle is…"

However, given his position, Heirad couldn't ignore the princess's question, so he forced himself to think and answered.

"It's like watching a star fall."

Clarice didn't understand, but if other knights had heard, they would have nodded in agreement.

What are we witnessing now? This spectacle that sends shivers down our spines and makes our bodies break out in cold sweat—what is it?

This duel is a textbook. A book on how to counter Helmut, something that doesn't exist in the world. It's teaching the countless people present as if there were a definitive method.

The Sword Festival, meant to showcase Helmut's greatness.

At its center right now…

'Our idol is falling.'

As Lohengrin's once-solid and unshakable greatsword began to falter under the relentless strikes, gasps and admiration erupted from the crowd.

And questions inevitably arose.

Who was this man bringing down the sword that had been revered as divine?

He stands at the heart of the grand arena.

Once, he is Helmut's son-in-law.

Before that, he was a carefree boatman.

But if one delved into his secret past—

He was known as the Silent Sword.

A teacher who imparted lessons to countless strong individuals.

Today, before everyone's eyes, the Silent Sword writes another book.

A swordsmanship thought to be divine.

A lineage deemed immortal.

The great and mighty Helmut.

In truth, Helmut is neither divine nor immortal.

It can be surpassed.