39 – 39. The Abandoned Man

*Thunk.*

The door opens and a smell hits, a blend of disinfectant and rotting bandages, thick in the air.

Underneath it all, the lingering scent of clotted blood, telling tales of the frantic pace within these walls.

The Malid’an Infirmary.

Though medical tents are pitched outside, this is the place for soldiers too critical to be treated there.

A mage, specially dispatched from the magic tower, is stationed here as well, I’d heard.

Groans rise from every corner.

Among the medical beds sits a man, eyes wide, staring straight ahead.

It was Jonathan.

“How are you feeling?”

Jonathan jumps up when Isaac approaches, blurting out,

“I’m fine!”

“Really?”

“Yes! I can return to duty right now!”

Yet, Jonathan doesn’t say he wants to leave or that he hates being here.

He’d probably be uncomfortable taking up a bed, with his personality.

Still, he knows his place, that he shouldn’t just leave.

The fact he is in the infirmary instead of a prison is a mercy from the Margrave, truth be told.

“Let’s step out into the hallway.”

“Is that alright?”

“Can’t talk about this with everyone listening.”

The mage in charge of the infirmary glances our way but says nothing.

The hallway is lit by lamps, casting long shadows.

Through the window at the end, the outside is slowly growing dark.

Jonathan follows me out.

His skin, dirtied last time, those sharp teeth, the dark paint around his eyes, all returned to normal.

“I didn’t know it either.”

He seems embarrassed, offering excuses even though I haven’t said a word.

“I didn’t even know things like the ‘Transcendent’ existed. Didn’t know I was one of them either. I just thought… I was different, emotionally.”

Jonathan’s face, in this honest confession, is dark.

“I almost wish… I wish my emotions were just twisted. At least then, I’d still be human, wouldn’t I?”

A confession poured out beneath the lamplight. The flickering shadows seem to echo his heart.

“Things have felt wrong ever since Northemus laid his hands on me. Something’s writhing in my chest. It feels like… like it’s about to devour me.”

Jonathan, reaching out a hand for help, pauses, then draws it back. The thought he might hurt Isaac is a cold weight.

“Why did *you* choose Hellmunt?”

“Huh?”

Jonathan, looking utterly bewildered, stares at Isaac as if the question came from nowhere.

“Hellmunt… it’s because they are different from the other knights.”

Why did he feel such longing for Arundel Hellmunt?

Why does he cling so fiercely to staying within Hellmunt’s walls?

“Sir Isaac, you know this too, don’t you? Hellmunt’s knights and the Hellmunt direct line… they’re completely different breeds.”

Hellmunt knights are merely the remnants of humanity left at Hellmunt’s side.

To be precise, they’re the name tags of Hellmunt.

“The direct line… they’re monsters obsessed with the blade.”

“I know too well.”

Except for the young Sharen or his youngest brother, Edel Hellmunt.

They live with blades from daybreak until nightfall.

The mansion of Hellmunt operates outside the rules of the world.

For them, only the sword and power hold any meaning.

“That’s why everyone hails Hellmunt as great.”

Isaac lets out a bitter smile.

The Hellmunt he sees up close feels like a den of madmen.

But the Hellmunt seen from afar?

The kingdom’s strongest sword.

The knights who are first to leap into the fray during a crisis.

A symbolic power capable of staving off war simply by existing.

Looking at it from the royal family’s or the common people’s perspective… could there be a nobler family as reliable as Hellmunt?

The colossal force that was Helmut.

Ridiculously, it was what kept the kingdom most peaceful.

Because no one would dare cross swords with Arundel Helmut.

“That…that was what I admired.”

A bright smile bloomed on Jonathan’s lips. He must have been unknowingly picturing Arundel Helmut.

“The head of the household threw everything away. For the sword alone. Do you know how magnificent that is?”

“……”

“I wanted to be like that. To cast aside my vile desires and live an ascetic life devoted solely to the sword.”

Arundel Helmut was the being who changed Jonathan’s life.

This was undeniable.

It was because of that admiration that Jonathan overcame his base nature and became a knight.

“Do you know? When I told the nun who raised me… that I had become a knight of Helmut?”

A gentle smile touched Jonathan’s face, as if recalling that time.

“She cried so much. She was so worried that I had a twisted nature, and seeing me become a proper knight… she cried so… so much.”

“……”

“Isaac, I know I’m asking a difficult thing.”

Slowly kneeling, Jonathan lowered his head.

“Please. Please let me remain as a knight of Helmut.”

“Jonathan.”

“I’ll hide the fact that I’m a hybrid of the Transcendents until the day I die. Sha… Sharen-miss saw, but if you tell them how it is, Isaac-!”

“My master was also a hybrid of the Transcendents.”

Jonathan’s urgent voice stopped short.

He slowly raised his head.

Isaac made eye contact and added.

“Or, to be precise, should I say he was a Transcendent but a human hybrid? He was closer to a Transcendent.”

The dark hair, hanging loose.

The wolf ears that stood erect.

Eyes like the moonlight.

The greatsword that seemed to hold a crescent moon in its hand.

“So, I don’t have any strong aversion to hybrids. And I don’t plan to tell you to stop your guard duty for me. I came here today to say this.”

“Ah, Sir Isaac!”

Tears welling, she grabs Isaac’s leg, utterly awestruck.

Feeling the pressure, he subtly pulls his leg back, continuing to speak.

“I’ll talk to Sharen, don’t you worry. So, starting tomorrow, join in on the missions.”

“Huk!”

Jonathan, leaping up, wipes the tears from his eyes, then salutes.

“Jonathan, knight of Helmont! I will follow Sir Isaac with my life, I swear!”

“Alright, alright. Go on now.”

“Yesh sir! See you tomorrowww!”

Leaving the fussing, laughing Jonathan behind, Isaac walks down the hallway.

A troubled expression.

‘Silly fool.’

He wasn’t planning on telling Jonathan about the divorce.

He just wanted him to stay in Helmont without getting caught up in strange worries.

Isaac steps outside.

It had grown completely dark, and a round moon hung in the sky.

‘I have to admit, the Lord’s sword is something else.’

Literally, besides the sword, nothing else held any meaning for Arandel.

Once.

[Hmm?]

He had asked the grandmaster.

[If Arandel hadn’t died, how would the tides of war have changed?]

Arandel had died of an illness.

It was after he’d accidentally come into possession of his autobiography, his will.

[Heh heh, that is a foolish question.]

Chuckling, the grandmaster drinks his liquor, laughing.

[What do you think? Black Blade Isaac, what do you see?]

Amused by the question, the grandmaster laughs as if testing Isaac.

‘Even so, it’s hard to imagine one man could change the tides of war alone.’

Leaning on his staff, Isaac had replied.

The Grand Master cackled, clapping his hands.

He laughed and laughed, and just as my mood began to sour-

[I’d rather not say, seeing as you wouldn’t like it – ]

The Grand Master stated plainly.

[There wouldn’t have been a war.]

‘…Huh?’

[The Transcendents would have just been sneakily watching from the shadows.]

Wondering when Arandel would die.

Whispering amongst themselves.

The Great Sword.

No one could deny that.

“Ha.”

Walking through the night, Isaac murmured, as if clutching a stinging wound.

“It’s absurd.”

Arandel Helmont, the man who threw everything away for the sword.

“From the perspective of the discarded, anyway.”

Among the things he threw away, Isaac was included.

* * *

“……”

“……”

In the early dawn.

Rianna Helmont stood before Isaac, who had come to the training grounds to train.

They stood facing each other, silent.

They hadn’t arranged to meet.

Isaac just came to train as usual, and Rianna was just there, squatting.

“What are you doing here?”

Finally, Isaac spoke, and Rianna brought out the greatsword she had carried, and said.

“You said you’d teach me aura.”

“I didn’t expect it to start this quickly.”

“You have to teach me while I’m here.”

“…Guess you’re right.”

Back in Helmun, what swordsmanship training are you even talking about?

The moment he sees the tachi at my waist, he’ll snap it in half and bellow.

What’s Helmun doing holding such a flimsy sword, is what he’ll say.

“Draw your sword.”

Isaac pulls out his tachi without a word.

Even in that brief movement, there’s a grace to him; you could say Isaac has stepped into the ranks of a proper swordsman.

It is a bit ridiculous, though, seeing the seemingly frail and small Rianna with a person-sized greatsword, and Isaac handling such a thin tachi.

“Aura is about manipulating the mana within your body. Have you ever had your mana measured, Isaac?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Right. You might not know your total, but as you learn how to use it, you’ll get a sense of it.”

A quiet, fiery red glow seeps from the greatsword like a flame being lit.

“Once you learn aura, it’s important to find the right direction for it—”

“Iisaaac!?”

A woman’s voice cut through the air.

Waving her hand, her white hair flying, Silverna came running.

She too had a spear slung over her shoulder, it seemed she planned to train with them.

“I was thinking of joining in today, am I interrupting?”

Silverna looked back and forth between the two of them, then grinned, squeezing in.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

She’s a bull.

The moment she decides, she charges forward without hesitation, just like a bull.

Rianna pressed her lips tight, waiting for Isaac’s decision.

“Do as you please.”

A strange scene unfolded; Helmun was teaching Caldius about aura.

* * *

“Isaac.”

About thirty minutes had passed.

Slowly lowering her greatsword, Rianna spoke emotionlessly.

“You don’t seem to have any talent for aura.”

“……”

[Pfft.]

Why though?

[Look here, you.]

It was like Isaac could hear the Grand Master’s mocking laughter echoing in his ears.