Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 35

Chapter 35
As Leon entered the basement of District Twenty-Three through the hole prepared by Khan, a stinging sensation hit his nose. The stench, so dense it was nearly poisonous, was a mixture of blood and rot thick in the air.
Even Caesare’s usually composed face grew clouded. With far more bitter experiences than Leon, he could sense it. Countless lives had perished here, and the suffering they endured had been immense.
They continued walking in utter silence like cats, making no sound. They passed through several rooms, checking the interiors. There was a room where human skulls were stacked, a room filled with torture tools, and even a room where unidentifiable lumps of flesh squirmed.
It was a living nightmare. Leon suppressed the nausea rising to his throat and searched for anything that could serve as evidence, slipping items into his pouch.
In a stern voice, El-Cid said, —Endure it, but you must never grow numb to this. Never look away from such horrors and tragedy. Even if no one else remembers, a Hero must remember. Because this is what your true enemy will always look like.
Not the Demon King?
Leon asked.
—
Ha!
As if a damn Demon King could count as your enemy. The world isn’t that easy, you know? Beating one villain isn’t going to be anywhere near enough to salvation.
According to the Scripture of the goddess, the Hero’s only role was to bring a better tomorrow than today. Nowhere did it say to defeat Demon Kings or slay evil beings—the traditional heroic quest was nowhere to be found.
At the same time, El-Cid knew the truth. That very mandate was the burden the Hero had to bear, and it was a fight that could never be won.
—For the poor, poverty itself is their Demon King. For the sick, it is their disease. And there’s no rhyme or reason behind such suffering. Can this Holy Sword cut down poverty? Can it destroy illness? Compared to that, killing an actual Demon King is nothing.
Even the great Holy King Rodrick couldn’t come out as a winner. A Hero’s fate was one of inevitable defeat. Their purpose was to pass on dreams and hope to the next generation, hoping that their loss would lead to a better tomorrow.
No matter how horrific, one must not look away. They had to face the massacre head-on until they could sever evil at its root.
Leon’s eyes settled as he exhaled deeply. His hand no longer trembled as it sifted through evidence, and his disrupted steps returned to their original rhythm.
Even Caesare, who had been quietly watching his shaken companion, was silently impressed. He hadn’t seen Leon’s swordsmanship with the evil men earlier because it unfolded behind him, but to recover his composure in mere seconds? That sort of mental strength was rare in someone so young.
“Bishop Caesare.”
“
Mm
.”
The two stopped simultaneously as they sensed a significant number of presences ahead.
Up until now, we’ve just passed through the disposal area. This must be where the real facility begins.
A careless approach would be disastrous. Their easy win in the first encounter was pure luck. They’d taken advantage of the enemy’s laxness with the bonus of the surprise attack with the Holy Sword and Caesare’s perfect ambush.
They knew they couldn’t expect the same luck against a group of more than ten. Leon thought for a moment, then pulled out a scroll.
I really didn’t want to use this...
It was one of the magic scrolls given by Khan. Though it was technically part of the job, being indebted to a thug still left a bad taste for a Hero, but unfortunately, desperate times called for desperate measures. He hesitated for a beat—then tore the scroll in his hand.
A burst of light from the scroll seeped into Leon’s eyes, granting temporary clairvoyance. Leon’s pupils turned blue as he quickly scanned the structure of the underground facility. It wasn’t a high-grade scroll, so he couldn’t expect it to last more than maybe thirty seconds.
Activating Rodrick’s Vision, Leon absorbed as much detail as possible, memorizing the positions of people and structures beyond the walls. However, as the clairvoyance faded, a nosebleed trickled down.
“Brother Leon!” Caesare called out, worried.
“I’m fine, Bishop Caesare. It’s nothing.”
Leon pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding, then scratched a layout of the facility onto the ground, trying to record everything before he forgot.
“The underground isn’t that large. There are twenty-four enemies in total: ten to the west, five south, five north, and four east. There’s also a wall in the center that I couldn’t see through. Its entrance is on the eastern side.”
“Do you think that might be the core?” Caesare asked.
“Most likely. Unlike the western, southern, and northern sectors, which were relatively unguarded, the eastern side was heavily patrolled. More than half the total numbers were stationed near the entrance to the central area.”
Caesare fell into thought. It could be a trap that saw through a deduction exactly like his. The enemy could have been intentionally drawing them toward the heavily guarded area. After all, a strategy where a perceived weak point turns out to be the stronghold was an old trick.
However, there was little evidence to suggest a trap. Looking at the map Leon had drawn on the ground, no other area seemed remotely significant.
“Maybe District Twenty-Three is just an empty shell used for body disposal, and District Twenty-Five is the real base.”
“That’s a good point, Bishop Caesare.”
This was something they had to confirm now, and Caesare agreed. The enemy’s defenses would no longer be so lax the next time they visit. Today was their best chance.
With their first objective set, the two began moving. They would have to face twelve enemies to reach the entrance to the core. Since those enemies were moving southward, some of their patrol paths overlapped.
We have to take them out as quietly as possible.
Fortunately, the only lighting came from a few widely spaced torches. Sure, the air was vile, but many of the rooms were empty, providing plenty of hiding spots. It was an ideal environment for infiltration.
The two moved in silence and with impressive speed through the darkness. Despite the cluttered floor, they didn’t kick a single stone. Just a few dozen seconds later, they spotted enemies.
Two of them. They must be the Southern patrol,
Leon thought.
If they were on the same level as the ones they’d already fought, it wouldn’t be an issue. Just as Leon was about to glance at Caesare, chains, swirling like a gale, wrapped around the two enemies’ necks.
“
Ghk
!”
“
Keugh
!”
At the same time, two cracks sounded loud and clear as their necks snapped from the chain’s pressure. Caesar retracted the chain as he laid their bodies silently, displaying a terrifyingly clean ambush.
The chains, launched from the sleeves of his robe, coiled around their necks and snapped them in just over a second. Even hardened mercenaries wouldn’t have reacted in time. As expected of the Holy Iron Inquisitors—when facing heretics, they had no use for honorable combat.
“Let’s keep moving,” Caesare said.
“Yes.”
Leon stepped forward, somewhat unsettled.
Not long after they hid the two corpses out of sight, they encountered more patrols several times, but each fight ended easily. With Caesare taking out one or two with a surprise attack, the rest were trivial.
The ambushed enemies would throw up defensive barriers as a reflex—but Leon wielded the Holy Sword that could slice through those barriers like water.
With another slash, another enemy fell with their throat neatly severed as he blurted out, “
Gah?! Urg, g-grrk
...”
The confident face twisted in disbelief, drained of color, and crumpled to the ground. That made eleven.
These were the five guarding the entrance. They couldn’t be taken out by ambush alone, so Caesare had to fully swing his iron ball to deal with them. Since one never knew what kind of tricks these exolaws might pull, the best plan was to eliminate them before things escalated.
The last surviving man’s head exploded. He’d tried to dodge and nearly succeeded, but he couldn’t fully get out of the way of the iron ball.
By their standards, he was the lucky one. His corpse was relatively intact, aside from the missing head. Most of the others had been reduced to gore with only a few limbs left intact.
And then Caesare, in all seriousness, said, “
Phew
, now I’m finally warmed up. Must be my age—I can’t rampage like I used to.”
Leon silently turned away, pretending not to hear. After defeating all twelve enemies, they finally stood before the entrance to the core.
The door that seemed to be made of unknown material had no handle and didn’t budge no matter how hard they pulled or pushed.
Strange symbols engraved on its surface glowed a dark crimson, like fresh blood from a wound. Caesare, sensing something ominous, raised his iron ball.
“Stand back, Brother Leon.”
The iron ball spun violently, like a swarm of hornets. After building momentum through several revolutions, the steel mass slammed into the door with terrifying force. However, with a deflating
thunk,
the iron ball merely bounced off.
“What?!”
Caesare and Leon’s eyes widened. That last strike should have shattered even a castle gate. Yet the door hadn’t made so much as a dent or a proper sound? It defied the laws of physics.
El-Cid, who realized the reason before anyone else, said, —Unlawful Matter(부정물)...! A door made of another dimension’s substance? This is a new one.
Unlawful Matter? What is that?
—It’s material based on laws that don’t exist in this world. If I recall correctly, there were some that froze when heated or ignited in the cold. This door seems to be made from a type that nullifies physical interference.
Leon frowned deeply at that explanation. It wasn’t just physical interference. Considering even clairvoyance magic hadn’t worked, it was likely that magic wouldn’t be very effective either.
The only remaining option was Caesare’s divine power.
Perhaps having reached the same conclusion, Caesare stepped forward and activated a divine technique using the power he had conserved. He muttered, “O Goddess, I beseech you. Grant this hand the light of justice.”
Unlike Aura, it wasn’t honed through training. Unlike magic, it wasn’t cultivated through study. This power came from pious faith and virtuous deeds—a force that could only be proven through one’s life.
Divine power was thus a symbol of the clergy’s sanctity, a blessing the impure could never wield. And the moment Caesare’s hand touched the door, it began to fracture.
A door that had withstood a war weapon more powerful than any battering ram now crumbled under nothing more than a glowing touch. Divine law was the true foundation of this world. The laws from beyond could never surpass it.
“
Hmm
...”
However, just before the door shattered, the light flowing from Caesare’s hand flickered out. His power had run out just before the door could be completely broken down.
That this door could endure a divine technique cast by a bishop spoke volumes of its absurd durability. It wasn’t something you used for a mere trap.
Seeing that, El-Cid said to Leon, —You finish it. I’ll support you with my strength.
Got it,
Leon replied internally as he stepped forward, sword in hand.
“Brother Leon?”
He turned his back to Caesare’s surprised face. The power of the sun rising within him gathered in the Holy Sword’s blade to form a golden Aura. Leon still lacked the skill to manifest it visibly on his own, but by drawing on the energy stored in El-Cid, he could sustain it for a few minutes.
Unlawful matter was also brought by the exolaws. The Holy Sword and the Sun-type Aura were some of the few things that could counter such unfair power.
“
Hup
!”
With a short exhale, Leon swung the Holy Sword. A beam of light erupted from El-Cid’s blade, slicing through the darkness, shattering the fractures in the door made of unlawful matter.
With a sharp sound, the door crumbled. Cracks spread like spiderwebs from the place it was cut, and in moments, the whole thing disappeared without leaving even a speck of dust.
Unlawful matter—true to its name—had no place in this world.
Caesare remarked, “That was a magnificent strike. It seems I underestimated your abilities, Brother Leon.”
“Not at all. You did most of the work, Bishop Caesare.”
“
Haha
, then let’s just call it a blessing from the Goddess.”
Exchanging pleasantries, they caught their breath and finished reorganizing before stepping into the core. Beyond the vanished door, there was no presence.
It seemed the room was normally left empty unless a ritual was underway. Leon entered the dark room—its torches extinguished—but the stench of blood was just as pungent here.
“...”
Behind him, Caesare came to a halt. One of the powers of the Moon-type Aura was the ability to pierce through darkness. He grasped the truth before Leon did.
The eyes of the former Inquisitor turned cold while Leon asked El-Cid,
El-Cid, I can’t see. Can you brighten this room up a bit?
However, El-Cid was unresponsive.
Hey, El-Cid?
—Ah, yeah, right.
El-Cid responded a beat late and released light.
To Caesare, it would look like Aura being materialized, but in truth, it was one of the Holy Sword’s inherent functions.
In an instant, the darkness was swept away. Then—
“What the...”
Leon clenched his teeth at the horrific sight and asked, “What the hell is this?!”
Inside were clumps of flesh, each the size of a human head, oozing blood and twitching, piled high in a heap. Aura Sense revealed the unwanted truth.
They were alive. Every single one of them was alive.
Flesh carved, sliced, and scraped from living sentient beings, gathered and molded into lumps of blood and tissue. Whatever the purpose behind this grotesque creation, there was no possible benevolent explanation.
Only El-Cid spoke, seemingly having understood the intent.
—So that’s what they were doing. They shaved the flesh from living intelligent beings and extracted their blood to craft lumps of flesh imbued with life force. If they’ve gathered nearly ten thousand of them, there’s only one reason.
What is it?!
Leon asked.
—Using a massive amount of living sacrifices to lure a monster—an exolaw ritual. A calamity so vast it’s said a single bite could consume an entire city. That disaster has a name. It’s called ‘City Swallower.’
It required extensive preparation and labor, but once begun, nothing could stop it. The summoned monster was something even transcendent creatures feared to face—consuming a city in one gulp before returning to its outer dimension.
This time, the monster’s prey was Blaine the Freedom City.