28 – 28. Helmunt’s Sword

“Antonio-!”

Isaac bursts through the ever-open smithy door.

Antonio, hammering away, jumps up and shouts right back,

“I told you not to call me like that when I’ve got a hammer in my hand!”

“Ah! Then I’m a dead man! Because the sword you made broke, so I can’t stop your hammer!”

Lifting the shattered blade, waving it around, Antonio’s bluster momentarily deflates.

But making the old smith admit his mistake wasn’t easy.

“No, you rascal!”

“What is it this time? I swung it wrong? I met the wrong opponent? It’s a learning process? If so, say so from the start! Why do you always say it’ll never break, putting me in danger!”

“Ahem, that’s the pride of a blacksmith.”

Antonio takes the sword hilt, patting his belly, he bellows.

“Aigo! You took this one! This is just a shoddy thing I made as a trial! There’s a proper sword over there.”

“This excuse is quite novel, isn’t it?”

“Ahem.”

To say it was a trial piece, after personally handing it over, was absurd.

Antonio had made a new blade as if knowing the other would break.

He hands it over with an embarrassed smile.

“This one will absolutely not break.”

“Hold on to it there.”

Isaac, suggesting they go clash it with Pelson right now, draws the sword, and Antonio hastily snatches the blade back.

“Hah! Of course it wouldn’t hold up, slamming it against a beast like that!”

“Yeah, you’re right? I’ll go easy on it. I’m scared it’ll break again.”

“Ahem.”

Isaac scoffs, a mocking sound.

Ultimately, Antonio slings an arm around him, leading him out of the forge.

“You smoke?”

“…I quit.”

Back when he was writing with the ink sword, he’d taken to it out of frustration, but it didn’t last long.

Deep down, he’d avoided it, thinking it might cause stamina problems when he eventually took up the sword again.

Useless worry, as it turned out.

“You quit this? You’re a rare bird.”

Antonio, with a cigarette hanging from his lip, touches the end of it to the hammer he’s holding.

The heat left in the hammer lights the cigarette and smoke curls into the air.

“Damn, this is harder than I thought.”

For the first time, a flicker of weakness touches Antonio’s voice.

“Maintaining lightness while still ensuring minimal strength. It’s not like I’ve ever made a sword like this before.”

“I never expected it to work right away. Just stop with all the bravado.”

“Think about how ridiculous I’d look, giving you a sword that I just said would break easily, right in front of all my apprentices.”

“…”

Silence settles between them.

In any case, it wasn’t a situation that either couldn’t understand.

“This is the first sword I’ve made like this, so my skill is bound to be lacking. That means I have to make up for it in other areas.”

“You mean…?”

Antonio drops his cigarette to the ground, grinding it under his boot, before yelling at his apprentice to bring him his thick coat.

“Here, in the North, there’s an ore called Frost Silver Ore. They use it to make the Caldias family’s spears, a very precious material.”

“…”

“It’s never leaked outside either. Except for what the Marquis gives the royal family, most of it is kept in the Caldias’ warehouses.”

Silberna’s words about his spear during the battle suddenly came back to him.

“You said it was something you could never throw away, right?”

“If we make it with that, we can maintain its strength while also making it lightweight. Of course, it’ll take some time.”

“I understand the moment I hear it’s a precious thing. But will the Marquess of Byungyeong give it up?”

Judging by what I heard, it seemed like even Caldias wouldn’t have much.

“He won’t give it. But we have to get it somehow, don’t we?”

The question of why he was doing all of this for his sword reached my throat.

I thought it was a question that didn’t need to be asked, but Antonio seemed to sense it and gave an answer.

“I watched you train.”

“……”

“You act like you’re holding a sword that isn’t even finished yet.”

“Ahem.”

“Your opponent is Helmont, right?”

In that instant, Isaac’s eyes widened.

Slowly turning his head to look at him, Antonio grinned like a child caught playing a prank.

“Isn’t it interesting? It’s a Helmont sword, praised as great from birth. They are literally born to wield swords.”

“That’s true.”

“The exact opposite, right? Helmont’s greatsword and your attitude. Their great bodies and a commoner like you.”

I couldn’t deny that.

The realistic wall was always cruel to Isaac.

“And yet, the way you try so sincerely to win—”

Antonio pats my back, saying it looks good.

It felt like encouragement to do my best, so Isaac nodded very slightly.

* * *

Isaac had recently been focused on sparring with Sharen.

Clang!

Sharen’s greatsword roughly pushes away Isaac’s pulse line.

Isaac is feeling an overwhelming difference in strength.

If there was a problem, it was that Sharen was among the weaker of the Helmont lineage.

Excluding the youngest, Edel, he could just be called the weakest.

“Crimson Flame Burst!”

The greatsword spat out an aura of mixed crimson and rose, a vibrant surge.

Isaac’s eyes widened for a split second, trying to parry with a *pearlson*, but.

He was ultimately flung back, soaring into the air before crashing onto the ground.

“Kugh!”

He managed a landing fall, preventing serious injury, but Isaac still grimaced.

It wasn’t from the pain.

It was because, no matter what he did, he was met with the unyielding wall of the *Jeokgang*’s power.

“Isaac, you okay!?”

Sharen rushed over, startled.

She helped him up, concern etched on her face.

“See? I told you not to use the *Jeokgang*. It won’t help you practice! Jonathan was a nobody, I’m different!”

“Yeah, different alright.”

Definitely different.

Against Jonathan, he won by understanding Helmund’s swordsmanship, thinking one step ahead.

But facing a direct heir wielding their blade… it was on a whole other level.

“I’m really saying this because I’m worried. I even call out the techniques beforehand, you know.”

Sharen puffed up with pride.

It was true, knowing beforehand made it a little easier to react.

*’She just seems like she’s enjoying this.’*

He had the feeling she was getting a kick out of calling out the techniques.

“Still, we have to keep going.”

Brushing off the dirt from his backside, Isaac asked to begin again.

“…You didn’t spar like this with the other brothers, did you?”

“Those weren’t spars.”

“Ahem! Ahem!”

Sharen coughed awkwardly, returning to her position.

He thought they would begin again right then, but.

“Oops! Just wait a sec! I gotta go somewhere real quick!”

“Hm?”

With that, Sharen dashed off in some direction.

* * *

“Unnie!”

Behind the dorms.

Rianna shushes Sharen, who came looking for her.

Rianna hands over a towel and a water bottle.

The towel was warm, and the bottle seemed to contain brewed tea, judging by the faint fragrance.

“Wow, thank you! But I didn’t train enough to sweat. It’s so cold here, I can barely break a sweat.”

Sharen smiles, grateful for it, but…

Rianna’s face scrunches up, correcting the misunderstanding.

“It’s for Isaac. Not for you.”

“…….”

Sharen, who was about to open the bottle to take a sip of the tea, quietly closes it again.

“But I’m your little sister.”

“More importantly, I just saw your sparring match.”

“Ah! How was it? My Crimson Flash was pretty decent, right-!”

“Honestly, I don’t know what Isaac’s intentions are. The way he uses the pearl line looks as if…”

For the next ten minutes or so, Rianna poured out her thoughts on the recent sparring match.

All of it was a kind of advice regarding Isaac’s sword, and Sharen’s expression gradually grew annoyed as she listened.

“I think you can go and tell him, after you’ve organized this a bit. Got it?”

“Can’t you just go and tell him, unnie?”

“That’s why I’m telling *you*, because I can’t.”

“…….”

She was in deep trouble, Sharen thinks, and she attempts to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“But unnie, Isaac has a strange sort of charm, doesn’t he?”

“……What sort?”

Rianna, intrigued by the topic, latches on. Sharen smiles brightly, explaining what she felt.

“Like, a kind of pitiful but desperate feeling? You can’t actually beat a Red-Rank, right? But seeing him try to the very end is kind of heart-fluttering!”

“…….”

“How should I put it? It makes you want to look after him, I guess? That effort, fighting to overcome it all… it’s kind of… charming!”

“……”

“Maybe… maybe it’s because of something like this, sis-.”

*Thwack!*

* * *

“What’s that thing on your head?”

“Sniff, I dunnooo!”

He pointed at the bump swelling on Sharen’s head, but she just got sulky and threw a tantrum.

She’d said she was just stepping out for a bit, and now she’s come back with a lump on her head.

“Let’s start again.”

Whatever it was, Isaac had been wrestling with how to break down the Red Descent until Sharen came back.

He was hoping his theory would hold water this time, and was about to start the sparring, but then.

“Isaac’s pretending he’s not, but he’s obsessed with Helmund’s greatsword!”

“Huh?”

Sharen’s remark was completely out of the blue.

“You mostly use the pulse line, right? You don’t even have the strength to wield Helmund’s greatsword, so why are you so hung up on it?”

“……”

“The basic premise of Helmund’s greatsword is to crush with overwhelming power. Without the power, there is no Helmund.”

“……”

“It feels like you’re trying too hard to mimic Helmund, and it’s making your swordplay look clumsy.”

“……”

“Forget Helmund. Just swing your own sword. You’ve got the talent for it, Isaac!”

Isaac tilted his head, listening to Sharen’s story, which flowed out of her like she was reading from a book.

“Where did you pick up on that?”

“……Huh?”

“That I’m trying to ape Helmund’s sword. There must be somewhere you sensed it.”

Isaac hadn’t known Sharen had this much depth to her, so he decided to be honest.

“Yeah, you’re right. I hate Helmund, but… I don’t actually hate his sword.”

On the contrary, it was because he admired Helmund’s sword that he could be so obsessed with the sword in the first place.

And there were things he wanted to show them because of that.

“There’s definitely admiration there, and I’m trying to make it my own… I’m curious where you saw that flicker, that hint of it.”

Thought I’d hid it well, real well.

How’d they figure it out?

Staring straight at Sharen, her eyes started to tremble.

Forcing her head to stay put, instead of twisting away like it wanted, Sharen yelled,

“You, you feel it all when you swing a sword! This kind of thing ain’t felt with the head, but with the heart!”

Then, she thrust the towel and water bottle at him.

“They said be careful not to catch a cold!”

“Said be careful?”

“Ah, no! Be careful!”

“…”

Sharen turned tail and bolted.

Isaac sighed, keeping the direction she’d just come from in his sights.

“I half-expected it.”

Back when Sharen first came to the Malidrian Barrier.

He’d let it slide then, with only a half-formed suspicion.

That handmaid, face all wrapped up, was still burned deep into Isaac’s mind.