Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 19

Chapter 19
Two days later, Leon emerged from the forest, which signaled the beginning of his footwork training.
He flinched a little when El-Cid warned that this could be even more difficult than learning the “way to see,” but his desire to become a proper Hero, even one day sooner, was greater than his hesitation.
To be frank, Leon’s growth had been slow. Sure, he had progressed rapidly since meeting El-Cid, but true powerhouses often reached the level of externally manifesting Aura by the time they reached his age—like that crown prince undercover, Lyon.
If Lyon had pulled El-Cid instead of me...
Leon thought, gritting his teeth.
If things went according to the prophecy, Lyon would have shown an explosive growth—terrifyingly so—but that was okay. If Leon lacked talent, he’d just work harder. As long as he didn’t give up, the Holy Sword in his grasp would respond to that effort and take him as far as he needed to go, keep advancing.
Well, he wasn’t exactly advancing at the moment. El-Cid’s words echoed in Leon’s head.
—Wrong. One step back.
“
Tch!
”
Leon took a step backward.
He had been at it since dawn but still had not even taken a hundred proper steps. That was how difficult El-Cid’s “footwork” was.
Footwork, on the surface, just meant “how to walk,” but understanding it fully required an immense depth of knowledge: how to move your hips, how to use your knee joints, how to adjust ankle angles, how to balance your center of gravity... For the first time in his life, Leon realized just how complicated a simple “step” could be.
—You lost tension in your big toe. Go back.
“Like this?”
—Now your heel touched the ground.
“Dammit!”
Thanks to the countless repetitions of advancing and retreating, it took dozens of minutes just to take one step. Only after repeating the cycle several times did he get one right. By El-Cid’s standards, he was still far from acceptable—but if things got any stricter, he’d be stuck in place until sunset.
Leon wiped the sweat from his brow and steadied his breath, muttering, “Now I get why you said this was harder than the ‘way to see’...”
El-Cid spoke with a tone of understanding, —
Mhm.
Rolling your eyes too much will just leave you sore but walking in an unfamiliar way builds fatigue fast. Your joints, tendons, and muscles all push back against what they don’t know. I bet your calves are throbbing right now.
“My calves? Oh yeah, a little, I guess?”
—A little?
Hmm
... You’re already past two thousand steps and they’re only a ‘little’ sore? Your body really is tough. But if your muscles start locking up, you’d better tell me. If they cramp, I’ll need to loosen them.
Leon was just about to nod absentmindedly but soon got an ominous feeling. A sense of foreboding crawled up his spine.
He asked, warily, “How are you going to ‘loosen’ them?”
—
Huh
? You should know by now.
“...”
There was only one thing that El-Cid could possibly be talking about, and just thinking about that pain made Leon’s concentration spike. “It” felt like having your muscles ripped apart—he’d rather not relive that particular torture.
He’d thought all he had to do was step back when he failed a motion. He hadn’t expected a trap like this. Leon’s focus reached its peak and his foot moved.
What followed was a step, nearly silent. It was the most perfect step of the thousands he’d taken. The moment his foot hit the ground, it absorbed the impact flawlessly and even redirected the recoil into a controlled motion. He had complete control of his body, independent of environmental conditions.
For the first time in three hundred years, Rodrick’s Footwork had been executed.
El-Cid thought,
Hah, I knew punishment was the best motivator.
Had he said that to Leon, his blood would’ve boiled.
Apparently, Leon’s success had only encouraged El-Cid’s “teaching enthusiasm” to go in the wrong direction. Looking at the results alone, it was hard to argue. What should’ve taken three weeks with traditional training, Leon had accomplished in a single day.
Granted, it was all thanks to trauma-level pain.
—Two... three... four... five...
After successfully landing ten in a row, Leon’s mental energy gave out. His vision wavered. That level of focus was nearly dizzying. Unfortunately, despite this monumental improvement, Leon couldn’t fully enjoy the sense of accomplishment.
El-Cid, who knew exactly why, cackled first and asked, —What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?
“J-just need a break. I got ten in a row, didn’t I?”
The Holy Sword whispered with a devil’s grin.
—Why is a Hero so whiny? Wait... do you... do you have a cramp?
“No! I don’t!”
Leon shook his head desperately, but his legs wouldn’t budge. His calves—and now his thighs—were twitching. The cramp was already setting in.
El-Cid, of course, acted immediately.
—Clench your teeth. Or else you’ll bite your tongue.
“N-no!”
—Yes!
With that single word, El-Cid shut down Leon’s protests and took control. Dozens of muscle fibers were pulled taut, with maximum force—without tearing anything.
“
GAAAAAAAH!
”
Leon’s howl rang out across the forest.
***
True to its name, Blaine the Freedom City was a city that prized liberty above all. It maintained trade with three bordering kingdoms and offered work to anyone regardless of nationality or race. With multiple languages flowing through its streets, interpreters were in high demand.
The land was ruled by the fourth Count of Blaine and served as a haven for adventurers and mercenaries seeking fame and fortune. Its fortress-like stone wall greeted Leon.
“Finally...” Leon muttered in a voice as faint as a dying breath as he stood before the city gates.
It had been a long journey, quite literally. He had expected to arrive within a week, but it had taken two. He never imagined that the decision to combine his travels with footwork training would stretch his journey this far.
Three hundred steps the first day, five hundred the next, a thousand the day after that, and by the time he finally regained a normal walking pace, an entire week had already passed.
“If I’d known, I would’ve packed more food...”
Leon groaned, wearing a face of deep regret. He had thought ten days’ worth of rations would suffice, but that assumption had been clearly wrong. His well-trained body demanded more calories, and the exertion of his training consumed even more.
Starting on the tenth day, he had to scavenge berries and hunt wild animals to keep his hunger at bay. Anyone watching might have thought trekking across the wilderness was his goal in the first place.
El-Cid chimed in, —Kid, back in my day, traveling
was
training. You’d eat a poisonous plant or two, maybe chew through some monster meat, and that’s how you grew.
“You can’t eat monsters, though?”
—After starving for a week, anything goes down.
“It probably isn’t the matter of ‘going down,’ is it...?”
Leon blinked blankly at the nonsense. The gate guard’s request for ID snapped him back to reality. Thankfully, the Academy ID showing active enrolment was a highly respected credential.
“Clear!” the guard declared Leon’s approval.
Leon passed through the checkpoint and picked up his pace. It was just past noon, but his body and mind were wrecked from two weeks of grueling travel. A warm meal and a soft bed were calling to him.
Beyond the gates, the city opened up before him.
“
Whoa
...”
He blinked in awe at the overwhelming wave of sensory input. Hundreds—no, thousands—of people filled the plaza. Towering buildings lined the streets. His vision was completely swallowed by the sight.
The Academy had been fairly large, but compared to the city of Blein, one would have a difficult time finding it without a clear sign.
Of course, El-Cid had no mercy in his judgment.
—Backwater.
Leon stared, dumbfounded. “Backwater? Really?”
—Even three hundred years ago, there were dozens of cities this size. It’s not small, but it’s not impressive either. And the layout’s a mess. I’d bet the crime rate’s pretty bad here.
“My eyes still have a long way to go,
huh
...”
While Leon’s head pounded just trying to process the view, El-Cid had already mapped the entire structure of the city. It was a testament to the gap in their abilities. Leon picked a quieter street and scanned a large wooden sign, looking for directions to his destination.
—Where to? An inn?
“No, I’m going to find the Guild first. There’s no rush, but I figure I should register sooner rather than later.”
—
Hmm
.
El-Cid hummed in thought before asking, —Come to think of it, you’ve mentioned adventurers and mercenaries like they’re different. Back in my day, those two jobs were practically the same. Have things changed?
Leon found the direction he needed and started walking as he explained.
“They’re quite different. Mercenaries can fight in territorial wars. Adventurers can’t. If it involves conflict between people, it’s the mercenaries’ job. On the other hand, dungeon exploration or surveying designated zones are usually handled by adventurers.”
—So there’s some territorial tension between the two, I bet.
“Yeah, especially in the gray areas. Like guarding a caravan—you might run into monsters or bandits, so both types of work overlap.”
That’s where the Guild came in. Mercenaries and adventurers might have separate buildings, but they shared the same Guild. As a quasi-governmental entity, the Guild prevented conflicts between them and monitored its members for anything suspicious.
—You’re going to be an adventurer, right?
Leon nodded immediately and answered, “Yeah.”
Based on what he’d learned at the academy, being a mercenary might have suited him better. But mercenaries had more restricted roles—and Leon had no intention of being dragged into noble infighting.
More importantly, to make use of the Hero’s privilege, he needed to accept monster raid quests—which meant becoming an adventurer was the logical choice.
This didn’t mean that he was in a rush to climb the ranks. Realizing that this was probably what El-Cid was worried about, Leon added, “For now, I’m sticking to the fundamentals. I’ve only just started learning, and I still lack experience.”
El-Cid chuckled, pleased by the insight.
—Good. That mindset is what matters.
Leon’s skills were still raw.
He could handle ten or so goblins just fine, but facing even a pack of kobolds or gnolls? That would be pushing it.
Sure, he could wipe them out using the power of the Holy Sword, but there was also an issue with that.
“Your seal isn’t going to break anytime soon anyway.”
Leon was right. Because El-Cid had descended a year ahead of the divine schedule, most of his power as a Holy Sword was still sealed away.
The Holy Sword wasn’t just about glowing or looking impressive. A true Holy Sword could restore its wielder like an immortal, drastically boost their strength, and devastate anything aligned with evil. Amplifying Aura into holy power was just a bonus.
—
Tch
. Not ideal. I don’t like not having a safety net—but I also can’t afford to waste time. I guess I’ll have to push your growth while avoiding anything too risky.
“Even when we do have a safety net, please skip the risky part entirely...”
—What, never heard the story about the lion?
“You mean the one where it tosses its cub off a cliff? That was debunked ages ago.”
—
Huh
? For real?!
El-Cid sounded genuinely shocked, but Leon wasn’t listening anymore. He was too focused on the building ahead.
The Guild. With branches in ten nations and global reach, it was an organization of tremendous influence. Its reputation and power were so great that even the mighty Clyde Empire couldn’t threaten or command it.
And so what?
Leon smirked as his brief tension melted away.
No matter how powerful the Guild was, it couldn’t compare to the Hero. If he was planning to become one, there was no need to cower before it. Reinvigorated, he pushed open the door.
The Guild. Free City of Blein Branch. This was the place where a Hero’s first footprints would be left.