Chapter 41

In the training ground within the academy, wooden dummies and light magical aids were set up, but this place was always deserted.

Naturally, the students who attended this academy came from families of a certain standing or those who had acquired wealth. Most of them sought not magic or swordsmanship, but the prestige of being an academy graduate and connections with the upper class. Therefore, few ever practiced sword or magic skills diligently.

The only ones who frequented this place were a girl who yearned for the talent of magic and one other.

A double-edged sword, reflecting sunlight and emitting a white glow. Helt Stanley wiped away the slight dirt on it and lightly closed his eyes.

--Zan!

It was a flash that made one catch their breath. The white light sliced through the sunlight, and the space seemed to rupture for a moment. The surrounding wind surged, quivered along the sword's path, and then returned to its original flow.

Helt's brow furrowed slightly. He lightly clenched his back teeth, concluding that today was not going to be a good day.

To an onlooker, it was a flash that exuded innate talent, leaving no room for comment. However, he could not hide his own discomfort. No matter how skillfully he tried to deceive, he could easily see through it. Especially, Helt was not the type of person who could overlook such things.

The slight murkiness in the sword's path, the physical condition was perfect, so the reason must be mental.

The essence of what was entangled in his mind was likely him, Helt thought. Questions and musings about him had been racing through his mind since earlier. As he sheathed his sword, the tips of his golden hair swayed.

"What a gloomy face you have, Helt-chan~"

Just as his thoughts were about to start circling, a body suddenly leaped onto Helt's back. It was more like a playful tangle.

"...Uncle, it's been a while. It's rare for you to come to the academy."

Helt turned around as if nothing had happened, and the person twisted his neck as if to say he had no charm.

"I came to see you. Otherwise, who would want to come to a place frequented by those who can't see the future, like blind men in a dark room?"

Helt couldn't help but respond with a wry smile at the harsh words.

Buckingham Stanley, Helt's uncle, was a man known for his mischief and fine wine, living life to the fullest. He had dropped out of the succession struggle for the Stanley family early on and spent a period of time in dissipation, but now he was involved in the Stanley family's diplomacy due to his extensive connections and social skills.

Despite his somewhat unpredictable and carefree nature, more people felt a liking for his unique aura than those who disliked it for being irresponsible.

In fact, Helt did not dislike Buckingham. He was always playful but took good care of others and was emotionally deep, which explained why he was well-liked.

"Uncle, I have a rather silly question. Can a person perform true good deeds while harboring true malice in their heart?"

Therefore, Helt often confided in his uncle rather than his strict and distant father.

Since this morning, or more accurately, since he escaped from the underground temple, a snake had been coiling in Helt's mind. He knew exactly who it was. The adventurer in green, the one who could be seen as both ruthless and just, Ruis.

Perhaps Buckingham had anticipated the question. He sat down on a chair prepared in the training ground and propped his cheek. Then, without much thought, he said,

"Of course, it's possible. That's what humans are. They carry contradictions in their hearts, give birth to them, and then give birth again. Isn't that the nature of humans, Helt?"

Helt bit his lip, slightly taken aback by the confident words.

Is that how it is? Indeed, he thought Ruis embodied that. Helt narrowed his eyes and stroked his bitten lip.

Presenting outrageous conditions to Fiarate, an action that could be seen as self-preservation. But then, throwing his life into the flames to save Fiarate, an action that could be seen as self-sacrifice. Ruthlessness and kindness. Helt couldn't help but tilt his head at the contradictory actions.

If self-preservation was the priority, there was no need to sacrifice himself to save Fiarate. If self-sacrifice was the priority, there was no reason to present outrageous conditions to Fiarate.

He couldn't understand. Helt couldn't understand Ruis as a person at all.

"To me, Helt, you are the one who is far more incomprehensible. You lack human qualities. Humans agonize, vent, and foolishly wander, only to make a judgment completely opposite to their previous life. But look at you, you're all about justice and kindness, like a parrot. It's laughable."

However, Buckingham told him with a strangely cheerful grin, showing his canine teeth, that it was good to agonize.

"Agonizing. Now that you mention it, I might not have agonized over a single thing like this before. Most things I've lived by dividing them into good or evil. I never doubted that it was right."

But he, Ruis, couldn't be categorized so easily.

"That's right, humans only grow by agonizing. God created us to agonize. Come on, let's thank God! Thank you for creating us in this crucible of malice! For endlessly tormenting us! Oh, thank you!"

"...Uncle, you say such things. You might be pointed out as a heretic."

His words were like those of a heretic. They seemed like his usual mischief, but his tone and the color of his eyes conveyed a sense of truth.

It was hard to tell which of Buckingham's words were mischief and which were genuine. Even his wife might not know.

But that was precisely why he was suited for diplomacy.

"Joking. Just joking. Anyway, Helt, I have to go to the Galrist Kingdom now. That's why I came here. If you're willing, would you like to come with me?"

Helt's eyes narrowed at the sudden words. He was momentarily speechless at the abruptness. Buckingham continued, saying he wouldn't force him.

"Recently, things have been fishy around here. My brother, the head of the family, can't leave, but I think the next head, you, should take a step back. They're not heretics, but the emblem worshippers who fled east are showing up strangely."

Do you know anything about this, Buckingham asked, peering into Helt's eyes.

He wasn't necessarily suspicious. He probably thought it was more likely that Helt didn't know. But in Helt's mind, the essence of the fishiness was clearly visible. An armed group of emblem worshippers, their strange level of vigilance, and a woman called the Holy Maiden.

He should talk about it here. If he did, his uncle would definitely take him to Galrist, and the danger would pass. Even if it was just a feeling of fishiness, it wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

But if he told, he couldn't stay here. Then, wasn't there an option to not say anything? Helt Stanley was taken aback by the thoughts that arose from within him. It was like a new thought he had never had before.

Goodness and justice. He had always walked the path of life with these two principles. There had never been a fork in the road. Everything was fine as long as it was done correctly.

But now, for the first time, there was a fork in the road. Should he tell everything and leave, or stay silent and remain here?

He should talk. That was what Helt Stanley should do. That's how he had lived until now. Indeed, it was right. Even if it meant leaving behind the questions that had arisen within him.

Two wills seemed to be clashing within Helt. The will that arose from within him and the will that fell from justice and goodness were competing.

Ah, what should he do? This is what it means to agonize. This is what it means to be tormented. After a moment of hesitation, the winner of the struggle crawled out of Helt's mouth.

"...No, there's nothing, Uncle. No, there's nothing worth mentioning."

If he were his usual self, he wouldn't have made such a judgment, Helt muttered to himself. He would have just done what he thought was right.

But to cover the impulse that had arisen in his heart with the veil of justice, wouldn't that be a shameful act of deception?

Therefore, Helt Stanley made a decision. Not by justice and goodness, but by the will that arose from within him, he chose to stay in Galuamaria.