Chapter 40
Chapter 40
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: A Knight's Plea
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Clunk.
The heavy wooden door swung open slowly on its rusted hinges, immediately releasing a foul, mingled stench of harsh chemical antiseptics and old, rotting bandages into the air.
Overpowering even that medical odor was the thick, metallic, and lingering tang of fresh blood, serving as a grim, ever-present reminder of the frantic urgency and life-or-death struggles that gripped this depressing place every single day.
This was the infamous Mallidan Infirmary.
While there were numerous temporary medical tents pitched outside on the dirt to handle the less critical injuries, this permanent structure was reserved exclusively for soldiers in dire, life-threatening straits—ones whose conditions were far too urgent to handle out there in the elements.
Word around the garrison was that a highly skilled healing mage dispatched directly from the prestigious Magic Tower had been stationed here specifically to keep the dying alive.
Low, painful groans echoed continuously from every shadowed corner of the room.
Yet, among the many occupied medical beds lining the walls, there sat a single man bolt upright, his unblinking eyes staring wide into the distance as if frozen in time.
It was Jonathan.
"How exactly is that battered body of yours holding up today?" Isaac inquired calmly as he approached the bedside, causing Jonathan to immediately shoot to his feet with an explosive, reverent shout.
"Good as new, sir!"
"Yeah? Are you certain about that?"
"Yes, sir! I am fully prepared to report for duty right this very instance if you command it!" Jonathan declared proudly.
Despite his restless nature, Jonathan made absolutely no complaints about wanting to escape the ward or hating the oppressive environment, even though anyone who truly understood his personality knew that hogging a valuable medical bed like this must have been incredibly uncomfortable for him.
But he also knew full well that he simply wasn't in a proper position to wander outside on his own accord just yet.
The mere fact that he was being permitted to recover inside the comfort of the infirmary instead of rotting away in a dark, damp prison cell was already a massive sign of the margrave's profound mercy toward him.
"Let us step out into the hallway for a brief moment to speak," Isaac suggested quietly.
"Is that truly okay, sir?"
"I can't exactly talk about sensitive matters with everyone in this room listening to our every word," Isaac replied, turning toward the exit.
The healing mage overseeing the infirmary glanced briefly in their direction upon hearing their exchange, but ultimately chose to say nothing and went back to his work.
The long hallway outside was dimly lit by a few flickering lanterns, casting elongated, dancing shadows across the cold stone walls as dusk continued to deepen outside the narrow windows.
Jonathan followed close behind Isaac's heels, his posture remarkably submissive.
The horrific physical traits that had been violently triggered during his transformation—the skin smeared with demonic filth, the protruding savage fangs, and the completely blackened eyes—had all fully returned to their normal, human appearance thanks to the treatment.
"The truth is, sir... I truly had no idea about any of it," Jonathan was the first to offer a sheepish, guilt-ridden apology before Isaac could even utter a single word.
"I did not even know that the legendary Transcendent Race actually existed in reality, let alone that I was secretly one of their descendants, because throughout my entire life, I just assumed that I possessed emotions that were slightly more twisted and intense compared to ordinary people," he confessed honestly, his face darkening beneath the lantern light.
"In fact, it might have been infinitely better if... if my inner emotions were just merely twisted, because at the very least, I would still be able to consider myself a proper human being."
Under the flickering glow of the hallway lanterns, he poured out his deepest insecurities like a desperate sinner seeking absolution from a priest, the turbulent shadows on the wall mirroring his troubled heart perfectly.
"Ever since Nortemus laid his cursed hands on me during that encounter, something inside me has felt completely wrong, and there is this constant, wriggling entity hidden deep within my chest that feels like it is going to devour my remaining sanity at any given second," he whispered frantically.
Jonathan instinctively reached his hands out toward Isaac as if begging for some form of salvation, but he suddenly hesitated, a flash of fear crossing his eyes before he quickly pulled his arms back out of a sudden, terrifying realization that the darkness inside him might end up harming Isaac.
"Why exactly did you choose to join the Helmunt family out of all the noble houses in the kingdom?" Isaac asked, shifting the topic abruptly.
"Pardon me, sir?" Jonathan uttered, his expression turning completely blank at the sudden question as he stared intently at Isaac's face.
"I chose the Helmunt family... simply because they are entirely different from any other knightly order in existence," he answered softly after a pause.
What internal desire had originally drawn him to admire Arandel Helmunt so profoundly from afar?
What was the hidden reason that kept him clinging so desperately and fiercely to the Helmunt name even now?
"You know the truth of the estate just as well as I do, don't you, sir? The regular Helmunt knights and the direct bloodline of the house are completely worlds apart from each other," Jonathan pointed out.
The standard Helmunt knights were, quite literally, the final remnants of humanity left serving under the strict Helmunt banner, operating as the prestigious family's public nameplate to the outside world.
"But the direct bloodline... they are nothing short of absolute monsters who have devoted their entire existence solely to the mastery of the sword," he added.
"You happen to know them remarkably well," Isaac acknowledged curtly, though he mentally excluded the still-young Sharen and their youngest brother Edel from that harsh categorization for the time being.
The core members of the family literally lived and breathed the way of the blade from the breaking of dawn until the deep of night, operating the entire Helmunt estate by a set of brutal rules that were far removed from the outside world's common sense.
For individuals of their caliber, only the absolute mastery of the sword and raw, undisputed strength defined the ultimate meaning of justice.
"And yet, that terrifying devotion is the exact reason why everyone throughout the kingdom praises the Helmunt family as truly great," Jonathan murmured, causing Isaac to display a bitter smile.
From an up-close perspective, the Helmunt family might easily look like nothing more than a dangerous den of single-minded madmen.
But how did the rest of the world view them from afar?
They were recognized as the kingdom's mightiest undisputed sword, standing as an impenetrable wall that guarded the borders against any threat.
They were the elite warriors who would fearlessly charge first into any cataclysmic crisis without a single second of hesitation.
They were a magnificent symbol whose mere existence was powerful enough to deter foreign nations from declaring war.
To the royal court and the common folk alike, there was truly no noble house in existence that felt more reliable and comforting than House Helmunt.
That immense, terrifying power called Helmunt was, ridiculously enough, the very thing that kept the entire kingdom living in a state of profound peace, simply because no rational enemy wanted to cross swords with the likes of Arandel of Helmunt.
“And that glorious, absolute devotion is exactly what I have admired my entire life,” a bright, genuinely happy smile lit up Jonathan's face as he pictured the legendary figure of Arandel within his mind.
“The family head willingly abandoned absolutely everything else in this world for the sake of the sword alone, and you understand just how incredibly magnificent that is, right, Sir Isaac?”
"......"
“I wanted more than anything to become just like him, to completely cast aside my own ugly, monstrous desires and live a pure life of ascetic, unwavering devotion to the blade,” Jonathan revealed, proving that Arandel Helmunt was truly the sole beacon of light that had completely changed the trajectory of his life.
That profound admiration was an undeniable truth that could never be erased from his soul, operating as the very anchor that allowed Jonathan to actively suppress his baser beastly instincts and become a proper, honorable knight.
“Do you want to know something, sir? On the day I first told the elderly nun who raised me at the orphanage that I had officially been accepted to become a Helmunt knight...” Jonathan's lips parted into a gentle, nostalgic smile as he recalled the cherished memory.
“She wept so incredibly much out of pure joy because she had spent her entire life worrying about my naturally flawed, violent nature, so seeing me stand before her as a proper, recognized knight made her weep buckets of tears, sir. She truly, deeply wept for my future.”
"......" Isaac remained silent, listening to the weight of the man's past.
“Sir Isaac, I know full well that this is an incredibly massive and selfish ask on my part,” Jonathan said, his voice dropping into a solemn tone as he slowly dropped down to one knee upon the stone floor and bowed his head low in submission.
“But I beg of you, please let me remain as a proud Helmunt knight by your side.”
"Jonathan."
“I swear that I will keep this entire Transcendent hybrid secret buried deep within my heart until the day I die, and although Lady Sharen unfortunately witnessed the transformation, if you could just find a way to explain it away to her somehow—!”
"My very own martial master happened to be a Transcendent hybrid as well," Isaac interrupted smoothly, his calm voice cutting through Jonathan's frantic pleading instantly.
The kneeling knight's voice died in his throat as he slowly raised his head in utter bewilderment.
Isaac met his shocked gaze directly and continued to speak in an even tone.
"To be more precise, she was a human hybrid carrying a heavy amount of Transcendent blood, making her close enough to their side of existence anyway."
As he spoke, the distinct image of his grandmaster surfaced in his mind—the long, dangling black hair, the sharp wolf ears that perked straight up, those luminous eyes that shone like pure moonlight, and that massive, terrifying nodachi that looked as if it cradled the crescent moon itself within its steel blade.
"So, because of her, I do not possess much prejudice against hybrids in general, and I have absolutely no plans to remove you from your guard duties under my command, which is exactly what I came all the way to this infirmary to tell you today."
"S-Sir Isaac!" Jonathan choked out, massive tears of profound gratitude instantly welling up in his eyes as he desperately lunged forward to grab Isaac's foot, sobbing uncontrollably in sheer relief.
Feeling the heavy weight of the man's emotional outburst, Isaac subtly pulled his leg back a few inches to maintain his personal space and firmly pressed on with his instructions.
"I will take care of talking to Sharen personally and smooth things over with her so that she keeps quiet, so you do not need to worry about her at all, just ensure that you focus entirely on recovering so you can return to your official guard duties tomorrow morning."
"Sniff!" Jonathan sprang up from the floor instantly, vigorously wiping away his tears with the back of his sleeve before executing a sharp, flawless military salute.
"Helmunt Knight Jonathan! I officially swear my entire life and soul to serve you faithfully from this day forth, Sir Isaac!"
"That is enough, stand down and rest," Isaac replied dismissively.
"Yes, sir! I shall see you tomorrow on the field!" Jonathan shouted in high spirits, his exuberant glee completely filling the space.
Isaac turned and walked down the dimly lit hallway, leaving the ecstatic knight behind him as his own internal expression turned increasingly complicated and heavy.
‘What an absolute idiot,’ Isaac thought to himself with a quiet sigh.
He possessed absolutely no intention of telling the fiercely loyal Jonathan about his impending divorce from Rianna, judging that it was infinitely better for the knight's mental stability if he remained completely oblivious and stayed focused on his service to the Helmunt banner.
Isaac stepped out of the infirmary structure and into the open courtyard, finding that the night had fully fallen over the fortress, with a brilliant round moon hanging high in the dark sky.
‘Even though his personality can be a massive pain to deal with, I certainly cannot deny the absolute, overwhelming greatness of the family head's sword,’ Isaac reflected quietly.
Because to a legendary monster like Arandel Helmunt, absolutely nothing else in this entire mortal world held a single shred of meaning besides the perfection of the blade.
Isaac recalled a specific conversation from his past when he had casually asked his grandmaster a hypothetical question.
[Hmm?] the old female hybrid had grunted curiously.
[If Arandel Helmunt had not tragically died when he did, how exactly do you think the great continental war would have played out?], Isaac had inquired back then.
Arandel had ultimately succumbed to a sudden, fatal illness rather than falling in battle, and Isaac had only discovered the truth because he had happened to read the legendary man's autobiography—which double-functioned as his final will and testament—completely by chance while rummaging through the old library archives.
[Heh, what an absolutely foolish and naive question to ask me, kid,] the grandmaster had chuckled heartily, taking a long, deep swig of premium liquor straight from her jar.
[What do you personally think would have happened, my silent little sword Isaac?] she had teased him with an amused, wicked grin, actively testing the young boy's tactical intellect.
‘Even if he was a legendary master, one single man's physical strength could not have possibly turned the tide of an entire continental war involving millions of soldiers,’ Isaac had answered confidently while leaning his weight heavily upon his training staff.
Upon hearing his logical conclusion, the grandmaster had suddenly burst into loud, mocking laughter, clapping her hands together wildly for so long that it had actually started to sour Isaac's mood a bit.
[I absolutely hate to tell you things that you do not want to hear, but your logic is completely wrong here, kid,] the grandmaster had stated plainly once her laughter died down.
[If that monster Arandel were still breathing, the great war wouldn't have even happened in the first place.]
‘......Pardon me?’ Isaac had uttered in utter disbelief.
[The proud Transcendents would have just skulked around in the dark corners of the world for decades, completely terrified of his blade and whisper frantically among themselves while desperately waiting for the day Arandel finally died of old age before they dared to make a single move,] she had explained.
The great sword of Helmunt.
There was truly no one alive who could ever deny its absolute, undisputed greatness.
"Ha," walking along the dark night path of the fortress, Isaac muttered a low, self-deprecating laugh as if clutching a raw, unhealed wound inside his chest.
"How utterly ridiculous."
The man who willingly abandoned absolutely everything else in existence for the sake of the perfect sword: Arandel Helmunt.
"At least, that is how it looks from the perspective of the family members he casually discarded along the way," Isaac whispered bitterly to the night air, knowing full well that among the precious things the legendary man had cast aside to perfect his blade was Isaac himself.
"......"
"......"
The following morning at early dawn.
Rianna Helmunt stood motionless in the center of the frosted training grounds, right where Isaac had just arrived to begin his daily practice routine.
The two of them faced each other in a heavy, tense silence beneath the morning mist.
They had not made any official plans to meet here today.
Isaac had simply shown up to train as he always did every morning, only to find Rianna already waiting for him, crouched down low on the grass while inspecting her equipment.
"What exactly brings you out here to the training grounds at this hour?" Isaac broke the cold silence first, prompting Rianna to slowly stand up, pull out her massive greatsword, and deliver a curt reply.
"You explicitly promised yesterday that you would teach me the foundations of Aura."
"I certainly did not expect you to demand the lesson to start this incredibly soon," Isaac remarked, surprised by her urgency.
"We are currently away from the estate, so you have to teach me while we are still here in this fortress," she insisted firmly.
"......That is a fair point," Isaac acknowledged after a brief pause.
He knew full well that once they returned back to the main Helmunt estate, attempting any sort of unconventional sword training would be a disaster, because the moment the family elders took one look at the slender nodachi resting on his hip, they would probably cleave it in half with a harsh scolding while shouting, *How dare a member of the Helmunt house wield such a flimsy, thin blade instead of a proper weapon?*
"Draw your sword right now," Rianna commanded calmly.
Isaac smoothly unsheathed his slender nodachi from its scabbard, the fluid motion carrying an effortless elegance that clearly proved he had truly entered the ranks of exceptionally skilled swordsmen.
Standing there in the morning light, Rianna looked remarkably smaller and more delicate while gripping her massive, man-sized greatsword with both hands, especially when contrasted against Isaac handling his elegant, slender blade, making the visual dynamic look almost comical to any onlooker.
"The mastery of Aura is entirely about learning how to properly wield and project the latent mana flowing within your physical body, so tell me, have you ever actually had your total mana capacity measured back at the academy, Isaac?" she inquired.
"Nope, never," he answered simply.
"Fine, it doesn't matter because you can still get a proper, intuitive sense for the energy as you actively practice the execution of the technique, even without knowing your exact mathematical total," she explained as a brilliant, fiery red Aura suddenly began to seep from the steel of her greatsword like dry kindling catching flame under a spark.
"Once you successfully learn how to manifest raw Aura, the absolute key to refining it is finding the perfect elemental direction that suits your specific sword style—"
"Isaac!?" a loud, cheerful woman's voice suddenly called out from across the grounds, cutting Rianna's explanation short.
With her long white hair flying wildly behind her as she waved her hand and ran up the path, Silberna approached them at a brisk pace, her heavy spear slung casually over her shoulder.
It was blindingly obvious from her eager expression that she had fully planned to train alongside them today without an invitation.
"I had officially decided that I was going to join your morning practice sessions starting from today, so tell me, am I perhaps interrupting a private couple's moment here?" Silberna asked with a mischievous grin, eyeing the two of them playfully as she barged straight into their space.
"Does my presence truly matter at all to you two?" she added before anyone could speak.
She was acting exactly like a reckless bull, meaning that once she charged forward with an idea in her head, there was absolutely no way of stopping her momentum.
Rianna clamped her mouth shut instantly, refusing to say a word as she stood there waiting to see how Isaac would handle the intrusion.
"Do whatever you want," Isaac replied with a casual shrug, and so unfolded the incredibly bizarre, unprecedented sight of a proud Helmunt actively teaching the secrets of Aura to a member of the rival Caldias family under the morning sky.
"Isaac."
About thirty minutes into the grueling practice session.
Rianna slowly lowered her massive greatsword to the ground, her pale face remaining completely impassive as she stared at him.
"Judging by your performance just now, it unfortunately looks like you possess absolutely zero natural talent for controlling Aura," she stated bluntly.
"......"
Isaac remained silent as a familiar phantom sound echoed in his mind.
[Pfft! Look at this absolute failure of a guy!]
Why was it that during moments like this, Isaac could almost hear his eccentric grandmaster's mocking, arrogant laughter echoing directly into his ear from beyond the grave?