49 – 49. The Head of the Helmundt

The Helmundt Manor.

Aramdel, deep in the flurry of preparations for the Sword Rite, was receiving guests.

Not guests he particularly desired, truth be told.

It was at his wife, Galenia Helmundt’s behest that he agreed to meet them, once.

They could offer much help for this year’s Sword Rite, she’d pleaded, and so Aramdel was meeting them.

They were guests from Blackthorn.

From Arandel’s standpoint, where concern for the weak simply didn’t exist, his interest in Blackthorn had plummeted sharply.

Truth be told, Blackthorn wasn’t the sort to be disregarded anywhere.

But at least before Arandel, even a family that lived and breathed by the sword, their pride itself, had to bow and concede.

If Arandel deemed them weak,

then they were unequivocally weak; that was how it was in his presence.

Blackthorn sent their eldest son, Phil Blackthorn.

He looked every bit the part of a noble-born, and his straight posture exuded confidence.

But Arandel knew that wasn’t Phil’s own self-respect he was seeing.

The man accompanying Phil.

A head taller, his lips pressed tightly together, he stood beside Phil.

A secretary, they might say, but it was clear in an instant.

That man beside him was far more capable than the eldest Blackthorn.

“I greet the magnificent Helmut. Lady Galenia has graciously allowed me to see your Lordship.”

Phil Blackthorn bowed respectfully.

Arandel, resting his chin on his fist, offered no reply.

A gesture meaning, I’m busy, get to the point.

Phil, a little flustered, quickly continued.

“Ahem, well, it’s come to pass that we, the Blackthorns, believe we can provide what Arandel seeks.”

“……”

“Lord Arandel, a human cannot fly. Nor can a human breathe underwater. A human cannot survive without the sun.”

They’d been told to get to the point, and yet the preamble dragged on.

The way he was just reciting his lines, like some play, also grated on him.

He even felt the urge to cut out his tongue.

But he decided to listen to whatever drivel this clown was spouting.

What grand tale was he trying to spin, making such a fuss?

“However great a knight Lord Arandel may be, even you cannot escape the limits of being human.”

“But, but we are different! Power that transcends human limitations! This is what we wish to offer Lord Arandel.”

“…….”

“Have you heard of the Transcendents?”

Phil Blackthorn’s voice was hushed.

A tongue, like a viper, flickered, dancing in his mouth.

“Beings beyond humans. A race born to dominate all from the moment of their arrival! They offer their cooperation to Arendel-nim!”

“Enough.”

Arendel, sighing, cut him off.

“Uninteresting.”

And he returned to reviewing the documents on the cooperation with merchants and vendors regarding the geomoja.

Phil Blackthorne, terrified by just a single word, could only stand there, his lips parching as he fell silent. Finally, the man next to him interjected.

“Arendel-nim, have you ever questioned Helmut’s physique?”

“……”

“Helmut possesses a blessed physical ability. A body that could hardly be called human.”

“……”

“And yet… the Transcendents are the same. No, the true Transcendents can easily overpower Helmut’s physique.”

Just from his eyes, one could see that he was not lying.

That there really were those among the Transcendents who surpassed Helmut.

“We believe Helmut to be closer to a Transcendent than a human.”

“……”

“Do you not find it primitive? These fools, with their pitiful strength, lording over people as if they were nobles? To us, they are all the same.”

“Ants. That’s what they are. Queen, soldier, worker. All the same ant larvae. Crushed underfoot.”

“So, Arendel-nim, join hands with us and claim true freedom-!”

Slowly, Arendel stood and looked out the window.

Seeing Helmut’s knights and Sharen’s carriage arriving, he knew he had to prepare.

A row of greatswords stood beside the office.

Arendel grasped the oldest, most battered one and strode forward.

Creak.

The man, realizing his words were already being ignored, bared his teeth.

Then, blocking the doorway, he hissed.

“You seem to misunderstand.”

Snap! Crack!

Hideous horns sprouted from above his head.

His skin darkened, eyes turning a raw, burning red.

A form you could call demonic, with small wings sprouting from his back.

“Our greatness—!”

The words didn’t finish.

Because his head had already rolled, hitting the floor.

Thud.

A transcendent, unable to even leave a last word. Phil Blackthorn, standing there like a bystander, realized only three seconds later that Arandel had swung his sword, that the transcendent was dead.

“hhhugh!”

A man whose presence alone made the mansion tremble with each step.

He couldn’t even follow the man’s sword swing with his eyes.

Phil Blackthorn trembled, but still, a sense of understanding bloomed in his head.

‘So that’s why he’s so fixated on Arandel!’

Why he’d even shoved bribes at Galenia Helment to force his way into this position.

He’d been curious, but now seeing it, he understood.

A body superior to Helment’s?

Humans are like ants, were they?

Then.

Then it meant.

‘He didn’t need to coax Arandel at all, you damn idiots!’

He finally understood.

They had spoken of their superiority, but in truth, they had feared Arandel.

Feared him enough to desperately try and bring him to their side, by any means.

He only realized it now.

Now, when all fate was sealed.

Now, with his own life hanging by a thread.

The only saving grace was that.

Just like with the first strike.

‘What do I do? What can I say to survive?’

He hadn’t perceived the second strike either.

‘First, kneel!’

So even as his neck was getting sliced off and hitting the floor, he was probably racking his brains on how to survive.

Thud!

“Father!”

Rianna, barging through the office door, saw two bodies first.

Their necks were severed clean, gushing out blood in viscous waves.

And standing stiff above the pool they made, was her own father.

But Arundel didn’t even glance at them, meeting Rianna’s gaze instead.

Blood dripped, plink, plink, from the old greatsword in his hand.

“You’ve come, daughter.”

“….Father.”

“You must have steeled yourself, to draw your sword.”

If she’d anticipated, then she’d anticipated this too.

Rianna gave a small nod, and unwound the white bandages wrapping her Ragnabelle.

The bandages, which served as her scabbard, now completely loose.

“Don’t you dare say you’ll take this punishment,”

Arundel cautioned calmly.

“Because you could die.”

* * *

CRASH! CRaaaSH!

The booming sounds echoing through the manor made Roen, the eldest son, who was in the thick of preparations for the Sword Rite, rush inside.

“W-what is happening?!”

He was just doing a light patrol, clearing the street stalls and securing the passage outside.

But suddenly, a huge ruckus erupted in the manor.

The shock even made the garden, where red roses bloomed lushly, quiver.

At the manor entrance, the family had gathered.

The first that caught his eye was Alois, with a broken leg, and Galenia, fretful by his side.

“Mother, what is going on?!”

“Roen,”

Galenia greeted him with a grim face. She answered, her expression heavy with worry.

“Rianna’s returned, they say…”

“Ah.”

That alone was answer enough.

Rianna, who’d secretly gone to the front lines, so now she was being reprimanded.

*Clang!* *CLANG!*

The sound of greatswords clashing was like thunder cracking.

The crimson light pouring through the window spoke of a situation far from ordinary.

‘What in the world is this…’

Rianna was strong, he’d seen it in their spars before she’d left.

Because of it, Roengreen had strived even harder, but.

He truly doubted if he himself could ever clash swords with his father like that.

As if reading his thoughts,

Galenia took his hand gently.

“Don’t you fret.”

“Mother…!”

“You must stand tall, mustn’t you? In your position as the heir.”

“…Mother is right.”

Roengreen resolved to steel himself. What would become of him if he crumbled here?

Right as he braced his spirit,

*CLANG!*

The main gate burst apart, the doors flung wide as Arundel Helmunt emerged.

Clutching Rianna’s neck in one hand, like he had snared prey, he resembled a lion at his prime.

Her hair matted with blood and sweat, Rianna seemed to have already lost consciousness.

*Thump!*

“Go lay her down, tell her to stay confined until I permit it.”

Having said that, Arundel re-entered the house.

His greatsword, its edge chipped beyond repair,

was proof of how fiercely Rianna had resisted.

* * *

After receiving treatment, Rianna lay upon her own bed.

The familiar scent of roses, like a heady draught after so long, made Rianna close her eyes for a moment.

She was barred from leaving until the Head of the House gave permission.

Even as she thought, inwardly pleased, that she’d done well to break Alois’ legs beforehand.

*Creak.*

The door opened, and stepping inside was none other than her mother, Galenia Helmund.

“……”

Rianna feigned sleep, but Galenia smiled, standing beside the bed.

“Why did you do that to Alois?”

“……”

“He’s a good boy. Even while being healed by the mage, he worries only about you.”

“……”

“Well, alright. If you won’t answer, that’s fine too.”

Knowing that Rianna was already awake, Galenia smiled gently, stroking her hair.

“Don’t hate him too much, dear. We’re family.”

“……”

“My beloved daughter, love your family.”

With a tender smile, Galenia brushed Rianna’s cheek with her hand.

“Because you must become the Head.”