Sword Festival (5)
Isaac let out a low chuckle at Lianna's resolute response. Honestly, there had been times when he hated her and harbored resentment toward her. But seeing her like this, having steeled herself in her own way, didn't feel half bad. So, perhaps it was a sense of satisfaction that he, too, had once passionately loved someone pretty decent.
"Why... why are you laughing?"
Lianna glanced at him and asked. He shook his head and brought up the earlier topic again.
"And Lianna, I'll be the one entering the Sword Festival."
It was now a bit past lunchtime. In five or six hours, the Sword Festival would begin. Unlike in the mansion, it was held on the mountain behind the estate, where a vast plain stretched out like an outdoor sparring ground. Originally, it hadn't been a plain—it had been a dense forest. But in his youth, Arandel had swung his sword and shattered every tree in the area, creating the open field. Ever since Arandel became family head, the Sword Festival had always been held there.
"It's dangerous."
"I know."
"Roengreen's dead serious this time. He's determined to leave you half-dead—er, injured, no matter what."
Lianna recited Roengreen's words almost verbatim before hurriedly correcting herself.
"Your opponent is Mother. It's not wise to push yourself."
"No, you could say I came back to the Helmonts for this from the very start."
"Isaac..."
"There are rare moments when Jonathan and I actually agree on something."
By now, Isaac wore a relaxed smile. It evoked the same atmosphere as their old conversation on that ferry boat.
"And that's whenever we talk about the Helmonts' strength."
"..."
"The reason the Helmonts are strong isn't just their innate physiques—it's because they discarded everything except the sword."
It was hard to deny. Especially Arandel Helmont, who always exuded that vibe toward anything but the sword.
"I want to show them."
Among the things they'd discarded.
"That some of it shouldn't have been let go so easily."
Isaac, who had been more obsessed with the Helmonts than anyone.
His gaze drifted down gently to the fresh green lilacs blooming before the two of them.
"Even though the season's passed, look how they're still growing green amid the roses."
Just like.
"Me, right?"
A bright smile formed naturally on his face. The Sword Festival, the event that glorified the Helmonts, was like a garden permitted only roses. Yet, comically enough, what stood out most here was the single sprig of vibrant purple lilac that had popped up.
At this point, even Lianna decided to step back.
"Fine. You've got confidence, then?"
"He said there's no reason to draw your sword if you already know you'll win before drawing it."
"..."
He was pretending to know something, but it meant he didn't.
"Isaac, just to be sure, I'm asking."
"Mm."
"Have you ever pierced Sharen's Red Aura?"
"..."
Isaac scratched at the corner of his eye with a finger and mumbled awkwardly.
"Ah, pollen allergy?"
* * *
The mountain behind Helmont Mansion. Countless people gathered on the vast plain. The Helmont knights stood like walls, controlling the crowd, resembling a massive crimson building. The Helmont knights managed the throng with impeccable order. Nobles had reserved seats where they watched from afar.
Today was the semifinals. Son-in-law Isaac versus Helmont's eldest son Roengreen. Helmont's second son Armin versus Heirad.
Heirad was the princess's guard knight, reportedly someone the princess had raised personally since childhood. But still, it was the Helmonts. Most predicted the eldest and second sons would meet in the finals.
"Wh-what do we do? I-I'm so nervous for you, Sir Isaac!"
Amid the crowd, Isaac sat silently in his seat. Beside him, Jonathan was making a huge fuss. Each participant had a Helmont knight assigned as an escort, and Jonathan had been assigned to Isaac. Normally, someone of Jonathan's experience wouldn't qualify, but they'd made an exception due to the pair's close bond.
"You're not even the one fighting—why are you shaking?!"
Sharen snapped irritably. She'd spent the whole day stuck to Galeniya's side but came to Isaac as soon as the Sword Festival started, offering advice.
"Isaac, look at this."
"Hm?"
Shoving Jonathan aside, Sharen stood in front of Isaac and waved a white towel.
"If it looks like you're really about to die, call my name. I'll throw this right away."
"...And if you throw that, it's over?"
"Probably? In wars, raising the white flag means surrender, right? Ah! I'll just wave it like this. That should work, yeah?"
"Sigh. Just go."
For reference, the Sword Festival only ended when one opponent was unconscious or completely unable to fight. It was a brutally primitive format, which explained the low participation. Helmonts were tough enough to recover quickly from injuries, and they had things like Rose Lixers if needed. But ordinary people lacked the Helmonts' monstrous self-healing or sturdy bodies. One wrong move, and participating could end a knight's career.
"But why'd you wear that? You should be in full armor, yet you're in a coat?"
Sharen slapped her forehead at the sight of Isaac's new black coat.
"Roengreen's gonna flip if he sees this. He'll think you're mocking him."
"It's a strategic choice."
Isaac sighed in response.
"Armor won't help anyway—one hit and you're done. Can't dodge it either."
"No, that's—"
Sharen started to argue, then tilted her head and muttered.
"Genius, huh?"
"..."
"But what's with the design? Did you pick it up at some market stall? This is why you can't, Isaac. It looks—"
"Lianna gave it to me."
"...Sis did?"
"Yeah. Made from a magic beast she hunted long ago. Meant for me, but she couldn't give it then. Handed it over now."
"..."
"Heard the beast's hide withstood her own Red Aura, so it should hold up against Roengreen's to some extent."
"Sis has better fashion sense than I thought."
Isaac might have laughed at Sharen's quick change of tune normally, but not now. Whether it was about Milli or Galeniya, anything she'd welcome was off-limits.
So Isaac closed his eyes gently.
Before long, Roengreen stepped onto the plain that served as the stage. Cheers erupted in unison, praises showering the prime candidate to lead the Helmonts forward.
The Sword Festival had no announcer like other martial tournaments. If you were ready, you just stepped up and fought. Pure, brutish Helmont style.
"Ah, Isaac. Fighting! Remember! Call my name, and I'll wave this right away."
"Sir Isaac felled even Bricala! Please give it your all!"
With their cheers at his back, Isaac advanced. The rough plain that barely qualified as a stage. At its end sat Arandel and Galeniya. And the other Helmont children, including Lianna, who watched Isaac with hands clasped in prayer.
"Pathetic."
Roengreen gave a small laugh toward the approaching Isaac.
"No need to show off for others, no crowds like this."
"..."
"It was just daily life for us."
Even back when they "sparred" by beating on Isaac, it had felt exactly like this. It must bore Roengreen to repeat something as effortless as twisting a child's wrist. But if there was meaning to it, it felt different.
"After today, a normal life will be impossible for you."
Roengreen's massive greatsword soared high into the sky. A blade too heavy for Isaac to lift with both hands—he wielded it casually with one. The crowd gasped and cheered in admiration.
"Perfect pretext, too."
"..."
"Even a fool bearing the Helmont name should at least pretend to carry a greatsword."
At Isaac's waist hung two taedos. One was White Snow, forged from frost silverlight. The other was the least useless practice blade from Antonio's stock.
"No matter how brutally I crush you, it'll be you who tarnished the Helmont honor."
He hadn't gripped a greatsword, bearing the Helmont name. That alone created an air of disrespect, jeers raining down on his qualifications. Yet Arandel sat impassively, chin propped on his hand.
"Strutting around after felling one magic beast—!"
Roengreen's greatsword cleaved the sky. Simultaneously, a colossal surge of Red Aura blanketed the sunset sky, obsessive hostility spilling everywhere.
No starting signal.
Roengreen slammed down. Despite the blade's absurd reach, his Red Aura shaped into a sword form, descending to split Isaac's skull.
"...!"
Isaac dropped low and dashed aside. The only way to pierce Red Aura now was Great Quick Draw. Believing the strike that pierced even Bricala's lightning could reach, he moved his legs frantically.
"A Helmont—!"
Roengreen's bloodshot eyes tracked him. The downward slash shifted trajectory, now sweeping horizontally after Isaac.
"Is one who stands against foes!"
Can't dodge!
Isaac's hand flew to his waist—not White Snow, but the practice taedo. He drew with Quick Draw for a counter.
Clang!
"...!"
Not even the real greatsword—just the Red Aura—and the taedo shattered to pieces.
"Gasp! Wh-what do we do! Without that—!"
Jonathan's panic rang out, but Isaac had no spare attention. Sacrificing one blade had stalled Roengreen briefly, but that was it. Biting his lip, Isaac wasn't rattled by losing it faster than expected. It was expendable anyway. The real one was White Snow. He had to wield it at the optimal moment—
"Tch, damn pest."
Roengreen sneered at Isaac, who hadn't properly drawn yet.
"Betting your life on some unheard-of flimsy sword."
"..."
"Even Kaldias must be mad, wasting frost silverlight on trash like that."
Isaac didn't reply. Each moment Roengreen showed such leisure was time for him to catch his breath.
But madness and contempt filled Roengreen's eyes.
"The sword that felled a magic beast? Aiming for that lucky one-shot while your arm shatters?"
"..."
"Disgusting."
Roengreen dismissed Isaac but never disrespected a Sword Festival opponent. That was his mindset toward the event, his respect for his father. He knew how Isaac downed Bricala in the north, what his sword was made of, what he aimed for.
"You're in my palm."
Roengreen knew it all. Greatsword over his shoulder. Fury in his eyes.
"Pathetic wretch. You're no knight, no swordsman. Can't even think of clashing blades properly—just banking on a fluke?"
"..."
"Catching one dying magic beast and thinking you're something—utterly ignorant, plebeian."
Now Roengreen erupted Red Aura from his entire body. Flames of scorn blazed viciously, ready to engulf Isaac.
"Thinking one strike can beat a Helmont—how insulting—!"
"Today, kneel! Crawl! Bark like a dog! Nothing will quell my rage—!"
Whoosh!
Suddenly, something intervened between them.
Thud!
Embedded firmly in the ground—it was a sword. An unfamiliar taedo. But Isaac's eyes widened as he traced its path. Amid the crowd, Silberna waved with a brilliant smile.
"That's why I couldn't even enter!"
"Silberna...!"
"You got this! Chirp!"
"...?"
Whatever that last bit meant, Isaac calmly drew the sword she'd thrown. It was hot. It thrummed like it was alive, overflowing with abundant mana that spilled out. And like it recognized him, it scattered lightning.
The remnants of Bricala that Lianna left behind. Isaac's second taedo, forged from it.
Grip.
Despite the burning sensation in his palm, a smile curved Isaac's lips.
[A sword that's too light won't do either, you fool!]
Antonio probably only understood Isaac's intent to make it as light as possible after forging it.
[What kind of sword are you even planning to use this with?]
[Not a Helmont greatsword, not a normal two-handed blade. Seems like one-handed, but no shield either.]
Silberna had tilted her head at Isaac's manual, asking what she didn't get.
[Trying to encompass Helmonts makes the sword crude.]
[Forget Helmonts. Just swing your own sword. You've got the talent!]
Lianna had advised through Sharen not to obsess over Helmont swords.
"Hoo."
Now, he could answer their questions. White Snow slid out silently. Strictly, Great Quick Draw required swinging from the sheath. He hadn't drawn it until now.
But now it was fine.
Swords in both hands. Light yet sturdy pair finally supporting the swordsman Isaac.
As the Silent Sword.
The contents he'd believed would one day become reality, from his unshakeable faith, now materialized.
A wind shifted the flow. In the warmth, he suddenly thought how nice it would be if Milli could see this. A warmth that yielded to him.
"That's it?"
Roengreen ground his teeth, chewing his fury.
"Two swords? Think that changes anything?!"
"..."
"Mocking the Helmont name—how far will you go?!"
But Roengreen's roar didn't reach Isaac. He was reviewing the swordsmanship in his mind.
Aspired through Lianna Helmont.
Guided by his Great Master.
Completed by inspiration from Arandel Helmont's will.
As dusk fell.
His black hair caught the setting sun.
Now dyed red.
Helmont.
A true Helmont Isaac.
