The Abandoned Man
The door swung open with a sudden clunk. Stepping inside, Isaac was hit by the mingled stench of disinfectant and rotting bandages, all overshadowed by the thick, cloying afterscent of blood. It told him just how frantically urgent every day was in this place. The Mallidan Wall infirmary. Separate medical tents were pitched outside for the rest, but this was for the critically wounded soldiers too severe to handle there. He'd heard a mage dispatched from the Magic Tower was stationed here specifically.
Groans echoed from here and there. Among the empty medical beds sat a man, staring blankly with wide eyes. It was Jonathan.
"How's your body holding up?"
As Isaac approached, Jonathan shot to his feet and shouted, "I'm perfectly fine!"
"Yeah?"
"Yes! I can return to duty immediately!"
Even so, Jonathan didn't complain about wanting to go outside or hating it here. For someone with his personality, occupying a bed like this must have been uncomfortable. But he knew his position—he couldn't just wander out freely. The fact that he was in the infirmary instead of a cell was, truthfully, the mercy of the border guard captain.
"Let's step out into the hallway for a bit."
"Is that allowed?"
"We can't talk with everyone listening."
The mage in charge of the infirmary glanced their way but said nothing.
The hallway was lit by lanterns, shadows flickering across the walls. Outside, dusk was deepening, visible through the corridor windows. Jonathan followed behind. The skin that had been stained with blood last time, the protruding fangs, and the blackened eyes had all returned to normal.
"I had no idea."
Without Isaac saying a word, Jonathan offered an awkward excuse first. "I didn't even know Transcendents existed. Or that I was one of them. I just thought I had emotions different from others."
His face darkened as he confessed honestly. "It would have been better if... if my emotions were just twisted. At least then, I'd still be human, right?"
Under the lantern light, his confession poured out like a cathartic absolution. The wavering shadows seemed to mirror his heart.
"Ever since Nortemus touched me, something's been off. There's something writhing inside my chest. It feels like... like it's going to devour me any moment."
Jonathan reached out as if pleading for salvation, then hesitated and pulled back. He realized he might harm Isaac.
"Why did you choose the Helmonts?"
"Pardon?"
His face went blank at the sudden question as he stared at Isaac.
"The Helmonts... they're different from other knights."
What had made him admire Arandel Helmont? What kept him clinging so desperately to the Helmonts?
"You know it too, don't you, Sir Isaac? Helmont knights and the direct bloodline are completely different breeds."
The Helmont knights were, quite literally, the remnants of humanity left serving the Helmonts. If anything, they were just nameplates bearing the Helmont label.
"The direct line... they're monsters devoted solely to the sword."
"You know them too well."
Excluding the still-young Sharen and the youngest brother Edel Helmont, they truly lived for the sword day in and day out. Common sense inside the Helmont mansion differed utterly from the outside world. For them, only the sword and strength defined justice.
"That's why everyone praises the Helmonts as great."
Isaac gave a bitter smile. Up close, the Helmonts looked like a den of madmen. But from afar?
The kingdom's greatest sword, guarding it. Knights who would charge first into any crisis. A symbol whose mere existence deterred war. To the royals or the common folk, were there any nobles as reliable as the Helmonts?
That immense power called Helmont—ridiculously enough—was what kept the kingdom most at peace. No one wanted to cross swords with Arandel of the Helmonts.
"I admired that."
A bright smile lit Jonathan's lips. He must have unconsciously pictured Arandel.
"The family head abandoned everything for the sword alone. You know how incredible that is, right?"
"......"
"I wanted to become like that. To discard my ugly desires and live a ascetic life devoted only to the sword."
Arandel Helmont had changed Jonathan's life. That much was undeniable. Because he admired him, Jonathan had overcome his base nature and become a knight.
"Did you know? When I told the nun who raised me that I'd become a Helmont knight..."
A gentle smile touched his lips as he recalled the memory. "She cried so much. She'd worried about my flawed nature, but seeing me as a proper knight... she wept buckets. Really, buckets."
"......"
"Sir Isaac, I know this is a difficult request."
Jonathan slowly knelt and bowed his head. "Please. Let me remain a Helmont knight."
"Jonathan."
"I'll hide being a Transcendent half-blood forever. Sharen saw, but if you explain somehow—!"
"My master was a Transcendent half-blood too."
Jonathan's frantic voice cut off. He slowly raised his head. Isaac met his eyes and continued.
"More precisely, she was a human mixed with Transcendent blood? She was closer to a Transcendent."
The black hair hanging down. The wolf ears perked upright. Eyes like moonlight. A massive sword like a crescent moon in her grasp.
"So I don't have much prejudice against half-bloods. I'm not telling you to quit as my guard. That's what I came to say today."
"S-Sir Isaac!"
Tears welling, he grabbed Isaac's foot and sobbed in gratitude. Feeling burdened, Isaac subtly pulled his leg back and kept talking.
"I'll talk to Sharen, so don't worry. Start joining missions again from tomorrow."
"Sniff!"
Jonathan sprang up, wiped his tears, and saluted. "Helmont knight Jonathan! I will serve Sir Isaac with my life!"
"That's enough, grow up."
"Yes, sir! See you tomorrow!"
Leaving Jonathan behind in his over-the-top glee, Isaac walked down the corridor, his expression complicated.
'What an idiot.'
He had no intention of telling Jonathan about the divorce. He just hoped the kid wouldn't overthink it and stay with the Helmonts.
Stepping outside, Isaac found night had fully fallen, a round moon hanging in the sky.
'I have to acknowledge the family head's sword, at least.'
Arandel had no meaning to anything but the sword.
Once, he'd asked his master.
[Hm?]
He'd asked the Great Master. [If Arandel hadn't died, what do you think the war's outcome would have been?]
It was after reading Arandel's autobiography-cum-will, obtained by chance. The man had died of illness.
[Heh heh, what a foolish question.]
Chuckling, the Great Master swigged her liquor and laughed.
[What do you think, Silent Sword Isaac?]
Teasing him like it was a fun test, she prodded Isaac.
'No matter what, one man's power couldn't overturn the entire battlefield.'
Leaning on her staff, that's how Isaac had answered. The Great Master burst into laughter, clapping wildly.
She laughed long enough to sour his mood a bit.
[I didn't want to say it since you'd hate hearing it, but...]
She declared flatly.
[The war wouldn't have happened.]
'......Pardon?'
[The Transcendents would have just skulked around, watching carefully.]
Wondering when Arandel might die, whispering among themselves.
The great sword. No one could deny it.
"Ha."
Walking the night path, Isaac muttered as if clutching a bitter wound. "Ridiculous."
The man who discarded everything for the sword, Arandel Helmont.
"From the perspective of the discarded, anyway."
Among what he'd thrown away was Isaac himself.
"......"
"......"
Early dawn. Lianna Helmont stood before Isaac as he arrived at the training grounds for practice. The two faced each other in silence.
They hadn't planned to meet. Isaac had just come as usual, and there was Lianna, crouched down.
"What are you doing here?"
Isaac spoke first. Lianna pulled out her greatsword and said, "You were going to teach me Aura."
"Didn't expect it to start this soon."
"You have to teach me while we're here."
"......True enough."
Once back at Helmont, sword training? The moment she saw the taedo at his waist, she'd snap it in half and scold him. How dare a Helmont hold such a flimsy sword?
"Draw your sword."
Isaac smoothly drew his taedo. Even that short motion carried elegance, proof he'd entered the ranks of true swordsmen.
Lianna looked far smaller and more delicate gripping a man-sized greatsword, while Isaac wielded his slender blade—it was almost comical.
"Aura is about wielding the mana within your body. Have you ever measured your mana capacity, Isaac?"
"No, never."
"Fine. You can gauge it somewhat by learning the method, even without knowing the total."
Like kindling a gentle fire, Red Aura flowed from her greatsword.
"Once you master Aura, you need to find the right direction for it—"
"Isaac!?"
A woman's voice called from afar. Waving her hand, white hair flying, came Silberna Kaldias. She had her spear slung over her shoulder, clearly intending to train together.
"I was planning to join starting today. Am I interrupting?"
Silberna grinned, glancing between them as she inserted herself.
"Doesn't matter?"
Like a bull. Once decided, she charged straight ahead, just like one.
Lianna pressed her lips tight, waiting for Isaac's choice.
"Do as you like."
And so unfolded the bizarre scene of a Helmont teaching Aura to a Kaldias.
"Isaac."
About thirty minutes later, Lianna lowered her greatsword expressionlessly. "You don't seem to have any talent for Aura."
"......"
[Pfft.]
[See? Told you, you fool.]
For some reason, Isaac could almost hear the Great Master's mocking laughter echoing in his ears.