Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 25

The fifth Rock Slime melted away with a deflating hiss. Now that Leon had learned how to maneuver through the underground passageways, taking them down was becoming easier. Just as El-Cid had said, even soft ground had its own merits.

He couldn’t launch himself with the same force as on solid ground, but he could certainly use the slipperiness to move in unpredictable ways. In some ways, it allowed for even more freedom than flat terrain.

El-Cid sneered, —Mmm? ‘Freedom’ is one word for it. I’d call it a mess.

“C’mon, man... Nobody gets it perfect on the first try...” Leon replied, deflated.

—I did.

Leon glared at El-Cid with dead eyes, then crouched down to gather the stone shards and drop them into his sack. The shards that were infused with magic numbered no more than two or three per slime, and they were far smaller and lighter than Ratman tails.

Filling the sack this time might be a challenge, Leon thought to himself as he roughly counted the loot.

He would need to kill way more than he did with the Ratmen, but Rock Slimes were four times harder to deal with. He would rather take on twenty Ratmen than five Rock Slimes. Racking up hundreds of kills like before was clearly impossible. He liked the satisfying feeling of turning in a full sack, but for this job, it looked like he’d have to let that go.

—If you’re done resting, let’s move. If there’s one thing we can count on, it’s your fitness, right?

“Yeah.”

Prodded by El-Cid, Leon set off again, practicing how to apply Rodrick’s Footwork to the terrain beneath him. Sliding straight, braking effectively—there were so many different applications.

These were techniques he didn’t know existed and would have never discovered fighting on flat ground. Anyone who hadn’t unlocked them wouldn’t stand a chance against someone who had and would be at least two steps behind in battle.

And this is just level two... you’re telling me this is still considered beginner level?

He found himself once again awed by the depth of the worthy teachings of a great hero.

Both the Vision and the Footwork were astonishingly profound. Without El-Cid guiding him, even a lifetime of training wouldn’t have given him a tenth of this understanding.

Unaware or uncaring of Leon’s admiration, El-Cid spoke up.

—Hmm. That reminds me. Once you’re a little more comfortable with Footwork, stop dodging.

“What...?”

—The stones. They don’t kill you, right? You need to practice taking hits without getting wrecked. Block what you can and just tank the ones you can’t.

“...”

—And stop relying only on thrusts. You can time it tighter and make slashes work, too. From now on, no thrusts unless you’re fighting more than two.

Leon’s hand trembled on the hilt of his sword as he shouted, “Just tell me to die, why don’t you, you damn cursed sword!”

—What?! I’m saying all this for your own good! If you get too used to fighting easy, you’ll suffer later!

“I haven’t even had it easy yet!”

—From my perspective, it’s easy! Back in my day...

The once quiet underground echoed with bickering. Leon scraped El-Cid against the wall or swung him around in frustration, arguing non-stop with his so-called Holy Sword.

Their ridiculous silhouettes receded into the depths. The lanterns on the walls only served to stretch their shadows. Soon, the only light that remained in the darkness was the Holy Sword’s soft, steady glow.

The back of a Hero, no matter the era, always looked the same.

***

Three weeks passed. As always, the guardsmen stationed at the underground tunnel entrance stood their posts in order. With well-maintained spears in hand and eyes sharp without a hint of drowsiness, they certainly looked the part of elite soldiers.

However, rigid discipline with no room to breathe rarely lasts forever. The soldiers knew this better than anyone.

“Place your bets. What shift do you think he’ll come out on today?” a soldier asked the group and the rest jumped in like this was the only thing they had been waiting for all day. It was a game they’d started ever since Leon began showing up.

“Second shift for me.”

“Then I’ll go with third.”

“Hmm... The odds are low, but I’ll bet on fourth. Gotta go big to win big!”

“Or lose everything, keke.”

“Shut it!”

Dozens of copper coins were pooled together. It wasn’t much money, but it was more than enough for a night of drinks. This was the only fun activity they could engage in to pass the time during long, boring watch duty.

Their bet was on Leon’s exit time. With the guard rotation running four shifts a day, one shift equaled six hours.

“When’d he go in today?”

“Ten hours ago. So we’re in the middle of the second shift.”

“Damn. Kid works like a mule.”

“No one forces him to go down there, right? Guess it pays well enough.”

“Rock Slimes do not pay well. That job’s garbage.”

The veteran soldiers knew firsthand. They too had joined once thinking it was a special assignment worth a bonus, only to end up spending the entire day getting pelted by stone shards while holding up a shield. Not to mention the damp, dark underground.

This only made the case of Leon all the more baffling. This random kid was doing nothing but that miserable, low-paying job for over twelve hours a day, every day.

“He didn’t seem to bring in much at first, but now he comes out with a full sack? That’s really impressive.”

“But it didn’t seem like it was getting any easier for him...”

They chatted freely, one story sparking another. They’d seen it with their own eyes how he had stumbled out bruised all over that first day and how he barely filled half a sack. They also saw how that sack swelled little by little, and how his steps grew lighter each time he returned.

They had watched the adventurer with a face younger than anyone in the defense guards throwing himself headlong into each and every day.

“Hey, he’s coming out!”

The moment someone shouted, they all snapped back to their stations. They might’ve been shameless enough to gossip, but they knew better than to gamble in front of the man himself.

Soon after, Leon emerged from the tunnel and dropped a heavy sack with a loud thud.

“Good work in there!” a soldier saluted as usual.

Leon returned the greeting with a tired expression, “Today’s the last.”

“Pardon?”

“The Rock Slime Raid quest. Their numbers are down significantly, and the areas near the city wall have been thoroughly cleared. There shouldn’t be a need for raids for a while.”

The Rock Slimes could be left alone for a few months at least. He hadn’t slaughtered thousands like with the Ratmen, but he had still eliminated just under a thousand. And since Rock Slimes reproduced far more slowly, it would take a long time for them to reach critical numbers again.

He needed to report back to the guild to officially wrap up the job, but Leon planned to head straight to the inn. So he handed the sack over to one of the soldiers with a request.

“Please deliver this to the defense captain. And let the Guild know the job’s complete.”

“Ah, yes, of course! I’ll report to the captain right away!”

“Thank you.”

That was all Leon had to say. With a polite bow, he handed off the sack and the message, then walked away without hesitation into the city streets.

The guards watched the back of a young adventurer become smaller in the distance. It was a sight they had grown used to seeing over the last three weeks.

“That one’s going places,” a guard muttered.

“No doubt about it,” another agreed.

The guards watched him go, voices tinged with something like disappointment. They had expected to see him again tomorrow, or the day after. They hadn’t thought today would be the end. One small joy of the job had come to a close.

Leon, of course, had no idea the guards would miss him. He just dragged his exhausted body toward the inn. He had neither the time nor energy to take a detour. His posture stayed steady thanks to Rodrick’s Footwork, but if he sat down now, he wasn’t getting up again.

Leon barely managed to make it to his room and shut the door behind him. What he wanted most was to collapse onto the bed, but his day wasn’t over yet. He had exhausted himself completely on purpose—for what he was about to do, physical strength wouldn’t be necessary.

“Is it time?” Leon asked.

—Yup. Today is the day.

El-Cid answered without hesitation. As he said, today was the day, the day Leon would take his first step into the realm of Aura, using the energy he had built up from the Rock Slime Raid quest. His body might have been on the verge of collapse, but the thrill of the moment was enough to make him want to jump up in cheer.

—We got here faster than I expected. Turns out Rock Slimes had more magic power in them than I thought. I figured they were worthless.

It made sense in hindsight. Since Rock Slimes were magical lifeforms, they likely held a decent amount of energy.

What El-Cid hadn’t predicted was how much that energy had accumulated in the ones that had gone unhunted for so long. Leon had gathered enough energy to attempt his Aura initiation with the timeline pushed forward by nearly a month.

After a final check, El-Cid said, —Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.

Leon followed the instructions without question. He knew better than to offer input on a topic like this. Aura cultivation was something far beyond his understanding, and he knew his role was to trust and follow. Well, that’s been the case with almost everything so far anyway, but when it came to Aura-related matters, he had even less of a say.

—Leon, I’m sure you know that you’re a late bloomer.

Leon didn’t respond—just listened.

—Children of noble houses receive their ‘Baptism’ from birth, then are fortified with elixirs to prepare their bodies and build their Aura foundations. Their blood vessels are cleared of impurities early on, giving them higher output and larger reserves than late bloomers like you.

A gap in background leading to a gap in power was the whole idea behind the divide between classes. It sounded like something impossible to overcome, but El-Cid thought otherwise.

—However... there’s a huge drawback to early Baptism. A child’s vessels are soft and weak, and clearing them too soon eliminates the need for them to adapt or grow. That’s why kids who go through Baptism early often struggle to break past their first wall.

That wall was called “Master.” To reach the rank of Master, one needed to compress massive quantities of Aura and forge a “core” within their body. Those who underwent Baptism too early rarely had the robust vessels that could withstand and survive the pressure needed for the compression.

That was precisely why, though nobles dominated the early stages, once people reached Master rank, it was common to see people from all social classes. In a way, for the nobles, their early privilege became their chain.

—Of course, in truly elite bloodlines, they account for all of that. But that’s rare. What you should remember is this: early isn’t always better. Vessels that grow rough and hardened from years of effort can surpass those pampered since birth.

“There’s gotta be a downside to growing up rough, right?”

—Obviously. If early Baptism only sped up growth slightly, no one would waste rare elixirs on babies.

Nobles weren’t stupid. They wouldn’t trade a sure long-term bet for a vague short-term hope unless there was a real reason.

—Without Baptism, opening one’s vessels takes incredible effort and enormous amounts of Aura. You’d only grow at maybe a fifth the speed of someone who had it. If you’re not talented, you could train your whole life and never even manifest Aura, let alone reach Master.

So the nobles almost always chose the safer path. Why gamble when you’re already born with everything? However, Leon understood that that wasn’t the whole story. El-Cid hadn’t yet mentioned the final possibility, which was going to be the trial that Leon would have to overcome.

—And... If you try to force open blocked vessels with Baptism as an adult, the recoil can kill you. Think of it like hammering a nail into a clogged artery. What happens?

“It tears... or explodes?”

—Exactly.

El-Cid continued in a cold tone, —In your case, I’ll be there. You’ll have the Holy Sword shielding your blood vessels and heal as you go. But the pain will be unimaginable. If you lose consciousness, the process fails—and your time to reach B-rank could stretch from a hundred days to a year.

“Don’t worry,” Leon replied without hesitation. “I can take the pain.”

—Yeah. You can. I don’t doubt that.

El-Cid finally stopped the intimidation and cracked a grin. He hadn’t expected Leon to flinch, but to not even blink? He liked this kid more and more.

—I’ve said all I need to. Let’s begin.

Leon nodded, then placed a tightly rolled towel between his teeth—just in case. He remembered what it felt like during El-Cid’s “punishment.” Even if the mind was strong, the body would convulse, tighten, react on its own. He didn’t want to crack a tooth or bite off his tongue.

With his eyes shut, all he could hear was the pounding of his heart. From his unseen left hand, light began to radiate, gradually filling the entire room.

—Brace yourself.

El-Cid’s voice was solemn as the light exploded—a brilliant gold, like the sun itself. Holy energy erupted from the sword, forming a ring of light-blades that circled Leon.

To those without the right to witness it, it could neither be seen nor heard.

There were ten blades of light. One tilted downward and pierced straight into Leon’s back. There was no blood, no torn flesh, only a path—into the channels where Aura would one day flow.

Leon’s eyes flew open.