Riana’s resolved answer made Isaac chuckle softly.
To be honest, there had been times when he disliked her and even resented her.
However, seeing her now with her determination, he didn’t feel too bad.
So, in a way, it gave him a sense of satisfaction knowing he had once loved someone worthwhile.
“Why, why are you laughing?”
Riana glanced at Isaac and asked.
Shaking his head, he returned to the topic they had discussed earlier.
“Also, Riana, I will be participating in the Swordsmanship Festival.”
It was a little past noon.
In about 5~6 hours, the Swordsmanship Festival would commence.
The festival took place not in the mansion, but on the hill behind it, where there was a naturally flat meadow.
Originally, it wasn’t a meadow but a dense forest until young Arandel Helvint slashed away all the trees in the vicinity with his sword, creating the flat land where the festival has been held ever since he became the head of the household.
“It’s dangerous.”
“I know.”
“Roengreen has it in for you this time. He says he’s going to wound— um, hurt you.”
Interrupting herself hurriedly, Riana recounted Roengreen’s words.
“You should fight Mother. Pushing yourself this way isn’t good.”
“No, from the start, this was the reason I returned to Helvint.”
“Isaac…”
“Isn’t it rare that both Jonathan and I agree on something?”
By now Isaac wore a comfortable smile, reminiscent of the conversations they once had on the ferry.
“It’s when we talk about the strength of Helvint.”
“…”
“The strength of Helvint doesn’t just come from natural physique, but because they’ve forsaken everything else except the sword.”
It was hard to deny.
Especially given that Arandel Helvint always exuded a similar aura toward everything outside of swordsmanship.
“I want to show that.”
“Something that shouldn’t have been so easily abandoned.”
No one was as obsessed with the Helvint lineage as Isaac had been.
His gaze gently shifted, landing on the freshly blooming lilac in front of them.
“Look at it. Even though the season has passed, it’s still growing lush among the roses.”
“Just like me, isn’t it?”
A warm smile naturally formed on his face.
The Swordsmanship Festival, which highlighted the glory of Helvint, was akin to a garden where only roses were allowed to bloom.
Ironically, what caught the eye in this place was the bright purple lilac that spontaneously bloomed.
Having said this much, Riana decided to step back.
“Alright, you’re sure then?”
“Before raising the sword, he once said that knowing you’d win made drawing it irrelevant, didn’t he?”
“…”
Though it sounded like he was confident, it was nothing of the sort.
“Isaac, out of curiosity—”
“Hm?”
“Have you ever broken through Sharon’s sword pressure?”
“…”
Scratching the corner of his eyes with his fingers, Isaac muttered sheepishly.
“Ah, is it an allergy to pollen?”
*
At the back hill of the Helvint mansion.
A wide, flat meadow now filled with countless people.
Knights of the Helvint family stood like a wall to control the crowd, their figures resembling a massive red-light building.
Indeed, the knights of Helvint were disciplined and kept the crowds under control.
The nobles, meanwhile, were seated in specially designated areas to watch.
Today was the semifinals.
The battle of prospective son-in-law Isaac versus Roengreen, the eldest son of the Helvint family, along with the duel between the second son, Armin, and Heirad.
Heirad was the princess’s bodyguard, said to be someone she’d personally cultivated since she was a child.
Regardless, most people assumed that the eldest and second son of Helvint would meet in the finals.
“Ah, ah, what should I do? A, a, Mr. Isaac, I’m so nervous!”
Among the crowd, Isaac sat silently as Jonathan nearby fidgeted and fretted.
Each participant had a knight assigned from the Helvint family, but due to their close bond, Jonathan was specially allowed to escort Isaac, even though his level wasn’t up to the usual standard.
“You’re not the one fighting. Why are you so nervous!”
Sharon, who had been irritable all day for following Galenia, snapped as soon as the Swordsmanship Festival began.
“Isaac, look.”
“Hmm?”
Sharon pushed Jonathan aside and brandished a white towel in front of Isaac.
“If you feel like you’re really going to die, call my name. I’ll throw this towel.”
“…Will that end it?”
“Isn’t that how it works? When you wave the white flag in war, it’s a sign of surrender. Ah! Let me wave this instead. Will that work?”
“Huh, just go away.”
By the way, the Swordsmanship Festival only ends when the opponent is knocked out or unable to fight.
It was a very primitive method. This was why the number of participants was low.
Though Helvints were unusually strong and could recover quickly even when hurt, and could use healing spells if necessary, normal people neither had Helvints’ monstrous self-regeneration or robust bodies.
So, accidentally participating in this festival could easily end one’s knight career.
“But why are you wearing that outfit? You should be wearing armor, yet you’re dressed in a coat?”
As Isaac stood newly clothed in a black coat, Sharon slapped her hand on her forehead.
“Roengreen will definitely be furious when he sees this, right? He’ll think you’re mocking him?”
“It’s a strategic choice.”
Isaac sighed in response.
“Even if I wore armor, it wouldn’t make a difference. I can’t dodge it anyway.”
“No, but—”
Whatever Sharon was about to say, she hesitated and whispered to herself.
“Because you’re a genius?”
“…”
“And what’s with the design? Did you pick it up randomly from a marketplace? Isaac, this is why you’re no good. Look—”
“It’s from Rianne.”
“…Sister?”
“Yes, made from a monster we hunted back then. She tried to give it to me but couldn’t for a while. She finally gave it to me now.”
“…”
“I’ve heard the material can withstand even Sister’s sword pressure, so it should hold up against Roengreen’s.”
“Turns out Sister has a good sense.”
Sharon quickly changed her tone, but Isaac, who would usually have smiled at this, couldn’t today.
Given the matter with Millie and Galenia, it was something Sharon wouldn’t take kindly to.
So, Isaac closed his eyes firmly.
As this happened, Roengreen stepped out onto the expansive meadow that might be called the stage. At that moment, amidst the cheers of the crowd, he was praised as the likely future head of the Helvint family.
The Swordsmanship Festival didn’t have a host like other martial arts competitions; participants simply stepped forward when they were ready to fight.
It was a rudely simple and brutish way, very much in the Helvint style.
“Ah, Isaac, fight hard! Remember, if you call my name, I’ll immediately wave this.”
“Mr. Isaac defeated Brikala, didn’t he? Let’s hope for the best!”
Supported by the encouragement of the two, Isaac stepped forward.
On the rugged plains that couldn’t be called a proper stage,
were Arandel and Galenia, sitting towards one end, and others from the Helvint family.
Among them was Riana, hands clasped tightly in prayer-like devotion as she looked at Isaac.
“Funny.”
Facing Isaac who had stepped forward, Roengreen chuckled softly.
“There’s nothing to show off to anyone else, and it’s not like such a crowd has to gather, you know.”
“…”
“To us, it was something everyday.”
Back when they practiced under the guise of training, and when Isaac was beaten soundly, it often felt just like this.
Even though Roengreen might feel bored doing this trivial chore again, as if carelessly twisting a child’s wrist, there was meaning in this act.
“After today, living a normal life will be impossible.”
Roengreen’s massive broadsword rose high into the sky. A sword far too heavy for anyone to wield with two hands, let alone one, and yet Roengreen lifted it effortlessly.
The sight of him doing so sent the audience into awe and cheers.
“This works perfectly.”
“…”
“Even a fool who carries the name of Helvint should at least carry a broadsword for show.”
On Isaac’s waist was a pair of short swords. One was made of frost silverlight known as ‘Snowflake’, and the other was a practice sword made by Antonio that seemed decent enough.
“You can crush this wretch as harshly as you like. With it, the honor of Helvint won’t be tarnished.”
Isaac didn’t hold the sword known by the name of Helvint. That alone was already enough for people to scoff and criticize his qualification to participate.
Nevertheless, Arandel sat quietly with his jaw propped up, showing no particular reaction.
“Showing off by cutting down a monster—!”
Roengreen’s massive sword slashed across the sky, and at the same time, his overflowing crimson sword pressure drowned the evening sky in crimson light, its overwhelming ferocity splashing out in every direction.
There was no sound to mark the start of the match.
Just like that, Roengreen slashed downward.
Even though the actual length of the sword made it seem impossibly far, the crimson sword pressure in the form of the blade hurtled toward Isaac’s head.
“…!”
Isaac hastily lowered his body and leapt to the side.
The way to break through the crimson sword pressure was, as of now, the Grand Sword Technique alone. Believing that even a single slash that pierced through the defenses of Brikala could reach him, Isaac hurriedly moved his legs.
“Helvint means—!”
Roengreen’s bloodshot eyes chased Isaac.
The heavy sword that was originally aiming downward changed its trajectory and now pursued Isaac horizontally.
“Those who dare to fight!”
‘Can’t dodge!’
Isaac quickly placed his hand on the sword at his waist. Not Snowflake, but as he drew the other sword, he prepared to counterattack with the grand sword technique.
Clang!
“!”
Even though it hadn’t hit against a real blade but only against the crimson sword pressure, the blade shattered completely.
“Heh! What am I going to do?! Without that—!”
Jonathan’s frantic yelling reached them, but there was no time to focus on it.
Isaac had sacrificed one sword to briefly deter Roengreen’s assault, but just barely.
Biting his lip, Isaac didn’t become anxious at the much faster than expected loss of one weapon.
It was, after all, only meant to be expendable.
The real one was only Snowflake, to be used at the most perfect moment—
“Hmph, damn brat.”
Seeing that Isaac hadn’t drawn the real sword yet, Roengreen sneered.
“What a laughable sight to stake everything on such an unheard-of, petty blade.”
“…”
“How could that fool, Caldiass, use frost silverlight to make something like this sword?”
Isaac didn’t respond. These moments of Roengreen’s relaxed arrogance allowed Isaac brief moments to catch his breath.
Still, Roengreen’s eyes darkened with a derisive mockery.
“A blade boasting cutting down a monster? You’re aiming for that one defining strike, twisting your arm in the process?”
“…”
“Disgusting.”
Roengreen looked down on Isaac, but he didn’t disdain his opponent in the Swordsmanship Festival. It was the attitude he had toward the festival itself, toward the respect for his father.
How Jonathan had taken down Brikala in the Northern region, what Isaac’s sword was made of, and what his strategy was—
“You’re all too predictable.”
Roengreen already knew everything. The massive sword resting on his shoulder, the fury in his eyes—
“Such an inadequate one. You’re no knight, no swordsman. Rather than engaging in a proper clash of swords, you’re simply aiming for a stroke of luck?”
“…”
“To think that killing a dying monster would make you something great is quite ignorant and very civilian-like.”
This time Roengreen emitted crimson sword pressure throughout his entire body. The flames of disdain seemed ready to engulf Isaac at any moment.
“Just by thinking you could defeat Helvint with a single strike— how utterly insulting!”
“Even if you grovel on your knees today! Or crawl on the ground! Or bark like a dog! Nothing will calm my rage—!”
Whooosh!
Suddenly,
Something came between the two.
Bang!
Lying squarely on the ground was a sword.
It was a blade Isaac had never seen before.
But Isaac’s eyes widened as he followed where it had flown in to find Silbern waving at him from among the crowd.
“I missed the event for this!”
“Silbern…!”
“Fight hard! Go Isaac!”
“…?”
Although puzzled by the sudden shout, Isaac calmly picked up the sword she threw.
The sword was hot. It writhed as if alive, its abundant mana overflowing beyond its capacity.
And it discharged a bolt of electricity as though it recognized Isaac.
The remnants of Bricala that Rianne had left behind.
It was used to make Isaac’s second short sword.
Silbern understood the purpose after creating this sword, which was supposed to be as light as possible.
“What kind of sword is this supposed to counter?”
“Helvint’s broadsword isn’t this, nor is it a common two-handed sword. Although it seems like it’s wielded in one hand, you’re not even holding a shield.”
Isaac scribbled in his manual, but Silbern tilted her head unsure.
“You’re making your sword too complex trying to embody Helvint’s style. It’s unrefined.”
“Forget about Helvint. Just swing the sword however you want! Isaac has enough talent for that!”
Through Sharon, Rianne advised Isaac not to obsess over Helvint’s sword style.
“Hmph.”
Now, he could finally answer their questions.
The Snowflake was unsheathed quietly. The Grand Sword Technique was something that could only be performed when the sword was still sheathed, but thus far, Isaac hadn’t unsheathed it.
Now, though, it was finally alright.
Swords were gripped in both hands. Two blades, light yet strong, finally supported Isaac, the swordsman.
As a silent swordsman.
One day, believing it would become reality, the content he had been using, began to take shape.
A wind that altered everything blew.
At this gentle moment, Isaac wished Millie could see this.
His softer side, compared to his usual self.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
On the other hand, Roengreen clenched his teeth in rage, stewing.
“Two swords? What difference does that make?! Helvint’s name— What depths have you underestimated, you wretch?!”
However, Roengreen’s roar never reached Isaac.
He was recalling the sword techniques in his mind.
The techniques that he admired through Rianne Helvint, inspired by the teachings of the Senior Master, and completed from the testament of Arandel Helvint.
As twilight approached, his jet-black hair caught the sunset.
By the time the evening light had touched his crimson head,
it was evident—
this was truly Isaac of Helvint.
