39 - The Son-In-Law Of A Prestigious Family Wants A Divorce

The door swung open, and as one stepped inside, the scent of disinfectant mixed with rotting bandages hit the senses. The sticky, metallic tang of blood laying over everything told the tale of how urgent and desperate each day must be in this place. This was the Malidan infirmary. Though there were separate medical tents outside, this spot was reserved for soldiers in critical condition requiring more immediate care. It was said that an especially skilled magician dispatched from the Magic Tower was stationed here. Groans and murmurs could be heard from various corners of the room. Among the myriad of medical beds, there sat a man wide-eyed in silence. It was Jonathan. "How are you feeling?" As Isaac approached, Jonathan sprang to his feet, exclaiming, "I’m fine!" "Really?" "Yes! I'm ready to resume duty at any moment!" Despite his words, Jonathan didn't express a desire to leave or a disdain for being here. By his very nature, he should feel out of place occupying one of these beds. However, he was fully aware that venturing outside recklessly wasn't an option for him. Being in the infirmary rather than a prison was, in fact, a testament to the leniency of the Marquis. "Let’s step outside for a moment." "Is that okay?" "We can't discuss things in front of everyone here." A glance from the magician in charge of the infirmary came their way, but no words were spoken. Isaac and Jonathan stepped into the dimly lit corridor, shadows from the lamplight cast over them. Through the windows, the growing darkness outside was visible. Jonathan, following behind, appeared much improved compared to the previous state of discolored skin, sharpened teeth, and eyes darkened with soot. "I didn’t know." Jonathan, perhaps embarrassed, began to explain, his words not solicited by any question. "I didn't even know about the existence of the Transcendents. Nor that I was one of them. I simply thought I had a different sensitivity compared to others." His confession was honest, but Jonathan's expression was dark. "I wished… I wished it was just a twisted mindset. At least then I would have been human." These were confessions under the flickering light, and the shadows dancing seemed to echo the turmoil within him. "Ever since Northemus laid hands on me, something's been wrong. There's a stirring inside me, something that feels like it will devour me at any moment." Jonathan hesitated, reaching out as if seeking help, then withdrawing, wary of potentially posing a threat to Isaac. "Why did you choose Helmont?" "Sorry?" Jonathan, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected question, stared blankly at Isaac. "Helmont is different from the other knights." Why did he feel such admiration for Arandel Helmont? Why did he persevere with Helmont despite everything? "Isaac, you know as well as I do. Helmont's knights are a completely different breed from the direct line of Helmont." The knights were the last vestiges of humanity tied to Helmont, wearing its namesake like a badge. "Those of the direct line are monsters solely dedicated to the sword." "I know too well." Excluding the young Sharen and the youngest sibling, Edel Helmont, they lived by devoting their entire lives to the sword from morning till night. What was considered normal outside was different within Helmont. For them, only the sword and strength were righteous. "That’s why everyone calls Helmont great." Isaac's bitter smile appeared. Seeing Helmont up close, it seemed like a den of madmen, but from afar, it was viewed quite differently—Helmont was the kingdom's mightiest weapon. When crises arose, they were the first to charge forward. Their existence alone was a deterrent to war. To the royal line and citizens alike, could there be a more reassuring noble than Helmont? This colossal force, Helmont, ironically, brought peace to the kingdom. No one wanted to challenge Arandel Helmont and his sword. "I admired that." A bright smile spread across Jonathan's face, seemingly picturing Arandel Helmont. "The lord abandoned everything for the sake of the sword. You know how incredible that is?" "......" "I wanted to be like that. To forsake the ugly desires I had and lead an ascetic life dedicated solely to the sword." Arandel Helmont was the figure who transformed Jonathan's life, and that fact could not be denied. It was this admiration that enabled Jonathan to overcome his vile nature and become a knight. "Would you believe? When I told the nun who raised me that I had become a knight of Helmont..." Recalling the moment, a tender smile crossed Jonathan’s face. "She cried uncontrollably. She feared I possessed vile instincts, but seeing me become a commendable knight, she wept—truly shed copious tears." "......" "Isaac, I know what I'm asking is difficult." Slowly, Jonathan knelt, bowing his head. "Please. Let me remain as a knight of Helmont." "Jonathan." "I’ll keep the fact that I’m a Transcendent hybrid a secret till my dying day. Even though Lady Sharen saw, if you could just—!" "My master was also a hybrid of the Transcendents." Jonathan's frantic voice broke off, his head slowly rising. Making eye contact, Isaac continued, "To be exact, a Transcendent with human ancestry of sorts, closer to being a Transcendent." The sprawled black hair, the wolf ears standing perked, the eyes resembling moonlight, and the crescent-shaped great sword... "That’s why I don’t have a strong aversion to hybrids. I don't intend to relieve you from your duty as my escort. That's what I came here to tell you today." "Ah, Isaac!" With tears welling, he clasped Isaac's foot in awe. Feeling uncomfortable, Isaac discreetly stepped back, yet continued speaking. "I'll talk to Sharen about it, so don't worry. Join the mission starting tomorrow." "Ah!" Jonathan, wiping away his tears, swiftly stood up and saluted. "Jonathan, a knight of Helmont, will follow Isaac with all my being!" "Alright, retire." "Yes, I'll see you tomorrow!" Leaving behind Jonathan, who was laughing excitedly, Isaac walked down the corridor. His expression was complex. ‘Foolish guy.’ Isaac had no intention of burdening Jonathan with matters of divorce. He hoped Jonathan would remain with Helmont without overthinking unnecessarily. Outside, the night had fully descended, and a round moon hung in the sky. ‘I can’t help but acknowledge the master’s sword.’ Because, literally, except for the sword, nothing else held meaning to Arandel. Once upon a time, [Hmm?] Isaac had asked the Great Master. [If Arandel hadn't died, how do you think the war would have turned out?] Arandel had passed away from illness. It was after serendipitously coming across and reading his autobiography-cum-testament. [Haha, that's a foolish question indeed.] Laughing with a shake of her head, the Great Master sipped her drink. [How do you think it would have turned out? What say you, Isaac of the Shadow Sword?] The Great Master teased, suggesting it was a test for Isaac. ‘No matter his prowess, it's hard to imagine a single man's strength could overturn the battlefield.’ With his staff in hand, Isaac answered thus. The Great Master guffawed, applauding. Laughing for such an extended time, it began to make him a little uncomfortable. [Though I have no desire to say something you'd dislike...-] The Great Master declared confidently. [The war wouldn't have happened.] ‘……What?’ [The Transcendents would have quietly awaited Arandel’s demise.] Planning and plotting amongst themselves. A great sword, acknowledged by all. No one could deny Arandel’s greatness. "Sigh." Isaac walked the night street as if nursing a wound. "It’s ridiculous." A man who sacrificed everything for the sword, Arandel Helmont. "From the perspective of someone who was abandoned." Isaac, too, was among those who had been left behind. * * * "......" "......" Early dawn. Standing in front of Isaac as he arrived at the training ground was Rihanna Helmont. The two stood facing each other in silence. They hadn’t arranged to meet. Isaac had just come to train as usual, only to find Rihanna sitting hunched over. "What brings you here?" Eventually, Isaac broke the silence, prompting Rihanna to draw the greatsword she had brought with her. "You promised you'd teach me aura." "I didn’t expect it to start so soon." "We have to begin while I'm still here." "...That’s true." Once back in Helmont, any thought of sword training would be cut in half the instant the sheathed sword was noticed. They’d scoff at the delicate blade. "Draw your sword." Isaac drew his weapon. Even in the brief act was a grace that marked him as a true swordsman. It did look a bit odd, the delicate Isaac handling a thin sword while the much smaller, seemingly frailer Rihanna wielded a person-sized greatsword. "Aura is about managing the personal mana within your body. Have you ever had a mana measurement taken, Isaac?" "No, never." "That's alright. Even without knowing the total amount, as you learn, you'll get a sense of it." A gentle flame, like the one emerging from a campfire, began to emanate from the greatsword she held. "As you grasp the concept of auras, it's crucial to align with the direction they offer—" At that moment, a woman's voice echoed from afar. Waving as her white hair flowed, Silvanna approached, shouldering a spear, indicating her intent to join the training. "I was planning to join today, did I interrupt?" Silvanna interjected happily, looking between the two. "Is it alright?" Like a bull, once she decided, nothing stopped her. She charged ahead relentlessly, embodying the essence of a bull. Rihanna pressed her lips together, awaiting Isaac’s decision. "As you wish." Thus began the peculiar scene of Helmont instructing Caldias in the ways of aura. * * * "Isaac." After about thirty minutes had passed, Rihanna slowly lowered her greatsword and spoke expressionlessly. "It seems you’re not particularly talented with aura." "......" [Heh.] Why was it? [Look at that, you fool.] Isaac felt as though he could hear the Great Master's mocking laughter ringing in his ears.