Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 11

Chapter 11
No. It’s too late.
If he had moved with the intent to block from the start, maybe, but now, with his posture broken, this wasn’t a technique he could withstand. If he didn’t deflect it perfectly, the blow would shatter his wooden training sword and pierce his chest.
Leon stared at the rapidly approaching blade and let out a disappointed sigh. He hadn’t let his guard down. He hadn’t been careless. Unfortunately for Leon, secret sword techniques were just
that
kind of move—if you didn’t know about it in advance, you died.
Their preliminary movements were vague at best and were sometimes even pure misdirection. There were few killing techniques as treacherous as this.
Move...!
Leon yelled inwardly as his overclocked brain slowed Elmont’s sword in his vision.
Unfortunately, that slowdown applied to his body as well.
Visual tracking and reflexes could improve reaction time, but they didn’t actually increase his physical speed. In other words, it was a useless act of desperation.
I said... move...!
Blood vessels burst in Leon’s eyes as he pushed past his limit. His vision blurred from the pain—but the incoming blade became even slower. It was barely crawling now, less than a centimeter per second.
Again, unfortunately, the same applied to Leon.
He pushed off the ground with everything he had, but the sword was still faster than his dodge.
At this rate, he wouldn’t avoid it. At this rate, he’d be hit. At this rate, he’d lose.
MOVE!
Then, a sickening tearing sound rang out. It was like something intangible had ripped open. A sound with no clear source.
At the same time, Leon’s left thigh broke free—unbound in this slowed world. It was the only part of his body that moved at normal speed.
The blade whistled past with a whip, narrowly missing. Had it landed clean, it would have splintered bone.
Leon’s insides froze from the sheer killing force he had just felt, but he quickly snapped back and closed in on Elmont. Big, lunging thrusts always came with risk, and with a longsword instead of a spear, that risk was even greater. A spear had range to recover; a sword didn’t.
“You...!”
Up close, Elmont looked stunned.
His family’s secret sword technique had failed. He was panicking from how close Leon had gotten, and he was desperate not to lose. The muddy pool of mixed emotions evident on Elmont’s face was read by Leon, and it only solidified his resolve. There wasn’t going to be another chance if he missed this one.
Elmont swung his fist in desperation, but Leon’s counter smashed the bones in his left wrist with a horrible sound, and what followed was the kind of pain that would make most people flinch—whether they delivered or received it—but neither of them did. Leon’s bloodshot eyes were icy cold while Elmont’s burned with fury and humiliation.
Being pushed to the brink by a commoner with no Aura? To Elmont, it was simply unforgivable.
Not that I care.
Leon thought.
He almost laughed at how pathetic it was. Elmont had been born with everything, and
this
was all he amounted to?
Eyes stinging, Leon charged again. Their wooden swords clashed, shaving chunks off each other.
Leon wielded his sword with both hands. Elmont, now limited to one, was clearly being overpowered. He was the one staggering with each exchange now.
Leon drove him back—step by step—until he was right at the edge of the ring. One more step, and he would lose by ring out.
Leon lifted his sword overhead and plainly said, “It’s over.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Elmont shouted and swung with all his strength—channeling every last bit of Aura into one final all-out strike.
After dozens of clashes, Leon’s training sword had to be nearing its limit. However, unlike Leon, Elmont could reinforce his weapon with Aura.
If Elmont destroyed the sword, he might still turn the fight around with one hand. He had been waiting for this moment. That’s why he’d let himself be driven to the edge—baiting Leon into delivering the finishing blow.
You’ve been dancing in the palm of my hand, commoner!
And just as Elmont expected, Leon stepped forward for a final clash... except instead of clashing, Leon slipped past his sword with a clean parry.
“Wha...?!”
Elmont stumbled.
The impact of the parry wasn’t even that hard—but having his strategy completely read and deflected shook him far more than any physical blow. It seemed that mental hit was strong enough to leave him standing frozen, dumbfounded in the face of defeat while Leon showed no mercy.
His sword smashed into Elmont’s mouth and snapped in half on impact. White fragments flew with the shards—teeth. Elmont collapsed, finally unconscious.
And so the string of duels that had begun as a commoner’s rebellion came to an end. Even Instructor Helmut couldn’t hide his surprise as he declared the result.
“Leon is the winner!”
Only then did Leon lower the broken stump of his sword. It had been a narrow victory. He’d anticipated Elmont’s attempt to break his weapon—but if he’d been even one beat slower, the outcome might’ve flipped. Honestly, avoiding the Crescent Stab at all had been practically a miracle. Leon wasn’t sure he could pull it off a second time.
—Well done, my pupil! That bastard got his teeth knocked out by the technique he mocked—bet he’ll think twice before running his mouth again!
Doubt it.
Leon just shrugged at El-Cid’s smug voice. Would getting hit once really change his character? If anything, a noble like that would just stew in resentment. People rarely changed—and there was a reason for the old saying that it’s better to throw them out than fix them.
Still, a sworn agreement was a sworn agreement. As long as Elmont kept his word, Leon would at least be left alone as long as he was in the Academy.
—By the way, I’m surprised, Leon. You’ve already opened the gate to “Accel”? That’s much faster than I expected.
Leon, realizing he was alone, responded aloud, “Accel?”
Helmut had taken the unconscious Elmont to the infirmary, leaving Leon once again to clean up the aftermath. He had grown used to it after repeating the same routine for days.
Gripping the now-familiar broom, Leon asked, “Oh, you mean the thing that happened when I dodged Elmont’s secret technique?”
As El-Cid replied, his voice sounded more animated than usual.
—That’s the one. The human body moves slower than the mind—especially when in a state of acceleration. Reflexes are just fast decision-making, not true speed. So why can seasoned swordsmen move faster than they should be able to?
“Because they’ve awakened their Aura?”
—Half right. Without Aura, the body can’t handle the recoil. That’s why most people can’t use Accel until they’ve learned Aura first.
Then, El-Cid offered his praise.
—But Leon, you used Accel without even touching Aura. Sure, it was limited to your thigh and only a partial success—but that’s still incredible. You broke past the body’s natural limits on willpower alone.
Leon thought for a second, then asked in an uneasy voice, “
Huh?
Wait a second. You said the body can’t handle it without Aura. So why am I okay? Is it because I only partially used it?”
—Pretty much. The speed wasn’t anything crazy, and you stopped before your muscles or tendons tore apart. But if you’d used it across your whole body? Your insides would’ve flipped.
“That... was
really
dangerous.”
Leon broke into a cold sweat. He hadn’t even known what he was doing—and he’d nearly wrecked himself from the inside out. So this is what they meant when they said it’s easy for the ignorant to be brave.
Well, he wasn’t exactly out of the woods yet.
—Oop, is it coming now? You’d better take care of your body for a while.
“What are you talking about? What’s coming?”
Leon looked around, bewildered. Helmut was gone. Elmont was gone. He just needed to head back to the dorms and rest—so why the sudden warning? He found out soon enough.
—What do you
think
? Muscle pain.
As soon as El-Cid said that, agony exploded in his left thigh.
“
Aaaaaaagh!
”
Leon dropped to the ground, clutching his leg and rolling in pain. It was delayed-onset muscle soreness at its worst. It felt like his thigh was being seared by fire or twisted by a metal rod.
A moment later, the cramps hit—and his whole body began to tremble. Even a lightning magic attack wouldn’t hurt this much. Leon wept openly, something he hadn’t done even with broken bones. Accel didn’t just tear his muscle fibers—it rattled his nervous system.
Helmut, having returned after dropping off Elmont at the infirmary, saw the poor Leon writhing in pain.
“What in the world?! Leon, did you pick up an internal injury?!”
Helmut had to make yet another trip to the infirmary to lay Leon on the bed right beside Elmont. One lay peacefully asleep, a little bruised but composed. The other was writhing in agony, thigh swollen like a melon.
It looked more like the loser and winner had switched places.
***
Three days later, Leon stepped out of the infirmary and tested his left leg with a few stomps.
“
Ughhh
... finally feeling a bit better.”
Fortunately, there wasn’t much pain—but he wasn’t ready to relax. Just the day before, a few steps had triggered another round of cramps.
El-Cid snickered and offered a warning, —For using Accel, this isn’t bad. But let’s just seal it away until you learn Aura. You try that again and it
will
kill you.
“I figured.”
Leon gave a bitter smile as he rubbed his thigh. Even the strongest muscle in the human body—his well-trained thigh—had been shredded. Anyone else might have ended up crippled. Whether he meant to or not, that had been
incredibly
dangerous.
To help with recovery, he strolled out to a park on the academy’s outskirts. The landscaping was nice—thanks to the head gardener—and it was a favorite spot for students to gather.
What’s going on...?
As he sat on a bench to rest, he sensed murmuring around him. It wasn’t idle chatting but hushed whispering meant to avoid being overheard.
Leon, now attuned to this sort of thing, subtly shifted his eyes. Some students were pretending not to look at him while stealing glances. A few of their lips moved just enough to pick up on.
Looks like some rumors about me are going around.
—Oh, spread by the idiots?
Leon nodded and sighed.
They’re probably trying to justify their losses. Saying I was scouted by a noble house or secretly learned a secret sword technique...
—Where’d all that noble pride go, I wonder?
If they had any pride, they wouldn’t have come after me in the first place.
—Fair point.
El-Cid agreed, and Leon—tired of the whole mess—closed his eyes and shut out the noise. There was no value in chasing down every stupid rumor.
Even if their duels had been under confidentiality, getting sent to the infirmary left a record. Leon figured word would get out eventually—but he hadn’t expected it to happen
this
fast. Barely three days, and he was already in the spotlight. His remaining days at the Academy, though likely short now, were about to get a lot more annoying.
Just then, Leon felt a presence approaching—directly, unhesitatingly.
Huh...? Who’s that?
Leon opened his eyes to see who it was, and sure enough—it was exactly who he expected.
“Chloe...”
She stood before him, smiling gently as always. Her hair shimmered gold in the sunlight behind her. Her lake-colored eyes sparkled with warmth.
Chloe spoke.
“Hi, Leon.”
And somehow—he didn’t know why—her voice calmed the ever-restless storm inside him.