Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 37

Chapter 37
The Guild's response was swift. Leon and Caesare were immediately escorted to the reception room to meet with the Guildmaster. They had stepped right into the heart of the Guild with ease when it was a place even B-rank adventurers couldn’t access easily.
Under normal circumstances, Leon should have been excluded the moment he delivered the message. A C-rank adventurer—no different from any of the countless others—had no business being involved in something like this. That’s how serious this was.
Thanks to Lize’s misunderstanding, the upper echelons of the Guild assumed Leon to be a Holy Knight, and they were all but convinced after seeing him accompanied by Caesare. Perhaps they even thought he was a trainee of the Holy Iron Inquisitors. There was no reason to treat someone like that as an outsider.
Lize said, “The Guildmaster will be here shortly. If there’s anything you need in the meantime, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
She spoke politely while arranging light refreshments on the table. Her manner had already shifted from dealing with an adventurer to that of welcoming a noble or royal.
“No, this is already fine,” Leon said, waving a hand uncomfortably. He had expected this to happen, but he still wasn’t comfortable with the special treatment.
Caesare sipped from his teacup without saying a word, adding to Leon’s discomfort, but fortunately, the silence didn’t last long. The heavy door opened, and the Guildmaster of the Blaine branch finally appeared.
Leon widened his eyes in shock and thought,
He’s huge!
Khan from the slums had also been an imposing man, but this guy was even larger. Easily over two meters tall, with shoulders so broad they made him look even more massive.
He gave the two of them a brief bow and introduced himself, “Hello, I am Bernard, Guildmaster of the Blaine branch. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, but it is still a pleasure to meet you both.”
“May the Goddess bless this meeting. I am Caesare, the bishop of the Holy Church in Blaine,” said Caesare.
“And I’m Leon,” Leon added.
Bernard shook hands with both of them in turn and sat on the large sofa across from them. It seemed custom-made for his size, fitting him perfectly in a way that looked almost comical.
Only then did Leon notice that one of Bernard’s legs, hidden by his massive frame, was a prosthetic made of metal.
Come to think of it, I heard the Guildmaster used to be A-rank back in the day. That must be why he retired,
Leon said inwardly.
El-Cid replied, —Yeah, sounds about right. Losing a leg is a much bigger loss than losing an arm. It basically cuts your combat ability by half.
A leg was even more crucial than a weapon arm. Even mages, who didn’t move much, would find it a crippling weakness, so one could easily imagine how fatal of a loss it would be for a warrior—enough to prevent continued activity as an A-rank adventurer.
“I’d like to hear what brings you here, Bishop Caesare,” said Bernard, picking up a scone. “If the Inquisitors are being involved, there are only two possible reasons. But I’d rather not make assumptions.”
“
Hm
. And what are those two?” Caesare asked.
“Eradication of an enemy of the Church, or execution of heretics. Since you’re seeking cooperation at the Guild level, I assume it’s the former, yes?”
Bernard nailed it. This was no empty title—Bernard’s reputation as a seasoned leader was well-earned. Unlike Lize, he showed no signs of tension.
Caesare answered calmly, “As you said. Since you’ve already reached that conclusion, let’s skip ahead to the main point. Just one thing first.”
Caesare raised a gauntleted finger and continued, “I’m a retired Holy Iron Inquisitor. Even so, I exercised my former authority to arrange this meeting. I assume you understand what that means, yes?”
Lize looked puzzled, but Bernard quickly turned pale. The Inquisitors were strict about rules. Wielding such great power and authority, they placed doctrine just beneath the Goddess’s word. It was well known that they left almost no room for leniency.
The fact that a retired Inquisitor invoked that authority could only mean one thing. There was a reason serious enough to break the rules.
“This is a top-level matter,” Bernard said, wiping sweat from his brow. “How much time do we have, Bishop Caesare?”
“I do not know,” Caesare answered.
“Estimated casualties?” Bernard asked again.
“At least ten thousand. In the worst-case scenario, it could devastate the entire city.”
Caesare’s explanation was concise and clear. With each exchange, Bernard grew visibly more nervous. Even Lize, who had been looking rather confused, now looked as though she might pass out from shock.
Even if only half of what he was saying turned out to be true, it was already a catastrophe. However, Caesare didn’t stop there.
“Last night, we raided one of their bases hidden in District Twenty-Three. We confirmed the existence of Evil and discovered its preparations for a massive ritual. By the end of our investigation, they must’ve realized they were discovered.”
“So now it’s a race against time...” Bernard muttered.
“In my opinion, we have a few days at best. The scale of the ritual makes it unlikely they’ll act immediately, but I can’t guarantee more than that.”
From here on, it was up to the Guild and the Church. As representatives of their respective organizations, Caesare and Bernard discussed the terms: the Guild would issue an emergency quest, with the Holy Church sharing the costs. Adventurers C-rank and above would be mobilized to establish a siege network, and so on. Once the smaller details were ironed out, only one issue remained.
“A-rankers, huh...” Bernard scratched his chin with a troubled look. “There are four A-rankers currently based in Blaine, but only one is available right now.”
“How come?” Caesare asked.
“Two were seriously injured exploring ancient ruins. They’re in no condition to fight. The other is on a quest that is quite far away and won’t be back for two weeks, at least.”
It couldn’t be helped. A-rankers were rare and due to their scarcity, most, if not all of them had ongoing work. In fact, having even one available was lucky.
Leon cautiously spoke up.
“Could you tell me a little about that A-rank?” he asked.
“
Hm
...”
Bernard paused for a moment before answering.
“She’s a female Rogue-type Adventurer. Name’s Karen, age unknown. Prefers daggers, ropes, and awls. She's best at reconnaissance, tracking, and scouting, but her close-combat ability is excellent too. She's got a lot of pride, so I doubt she'll turn down this request.”
“A Rogue,
huh
,” Caesare mused.
It was the path typically chosen by nimble and dexterous adventurers. While they didn’t shine in straightforward battles, their role became indispensable the higher-ranked the quest. And if she was A-rank, her combat prowess was practically guaranteed.
Leon and Caesare nodded in approval at the same time.
“Then I leave it in your hands, Guildmaster.”
“Of course. I’ll explain it to the lord as well. The Church and the nobility have never been fond of dealing with each other, have you?”
Leon flinched slightly, knowing the reason why: the Goddess’ grace, and mankind’s betrayal. If the Holy Church was aware of that history, it was no wonder they harbored contempt for nobles and the upper classes as a whole. After all, the current caste system was practically born from those ancient sins.
Fortunately, Caesare answered as if it was nothing of importance.
“Thank you for understanding. Now then.”
As soon as they were finished, the two stood up. There was still one more place to visit—the slums. It was time to pay a visit to the Fang, Khan.
***
The slums by daylight were nothing like they were at night.
Few drunkards were around, and merchants sitting on mats peddled ordinary goods. The pleasure quarters had their windows all shut, and not even the usual children loitering around to lure in customers were anywhere to be seen.
It looked like any regular marketplace. Perhaps this was the morning face of the slums. If Leon hadn’t memorized the roads, he might not even have known which part of the slums this was.
Come to think of it, I never set a meeting spot with Khan...
That meant the best option was to go somewhere he knew. Thanks to Rodrick’s Vision, he could recall any path he’d walked once. He followed the route he’d taken trailing the thugs: straight for three blocks, right, left, left again, and finally straight on the right.
Eventually, a familiar building came into view. This area alone was no different from what it had been last night. The stench of blood, booze, and violence still permeated the air.
“This is the place?” Caesare asked.
“Yes.”
Caesare, once again draped in his robe, replied, “The malice here is overwhelming. Living in a place like this, one might lose sight of what’s right and wrong.”
“It’s the kind of place people like that tend to gather.”
“Brother Leon, the order matters. Whether the wicked gather to make a bad place, or a bad place makes the people wicked. From what I see, it’s both here. The environment was never good to begin with, but those who spread malice made it worse.”
Caesare summed it up: it was a cesspit, in the most literal sense. Leon silently agreed and stepped forward.
He didn’t sense Khan’s presence even though Leon had somewhat expected him to have arrived before them. He could be hiding like last time, but there was no way he could fool Caesare as well.
“Let’s go in and wait,” Leon said.
The inside of the hideout hadn’t changed much other than a few marks Leon didn’t recognize. Bottles still rolled across the floor, and bloodstains still smeared the surfaces.
When about ten minutes passed, a voice came.
“
Kahaha
! You handled the job well. I heard District Twenty-Three went wild! The whole slum was in an uproar last night!” Khan said as he strode in, laughing heartily. “How’d that scroll I gave you work out? Not bad for a gift from a thug, right?”
“I only used one,” Leon replied curtly.
“Still counts! I knew you’d make good use of it!”
With a loud shout, Khan flopped onto the sofa opposite them. Apparently satisfied with how thoroughly District Twenty-Three had been stirred up, he turned to look at Caesare.
“You two smeared shit in those bastards’ faces, and I’m loving it. So, you told the Guild? Looks like the guy you brought along’s one of theirs?”
“If that was the plan, then we’re halfway there, Fang,” Leon said while suppressing the laughter trying to escape him.
“The Guild’s upper brass took the incident exactly as you expected—they’re treating it as a serious threat. They’re planning a large-scale raid, and even an A-rank adventurer will be deployed.”
“
Oho
? But you said only halfway? Why’s that?” Khan asked.
“Why do you think?”
At the same time, Caesare let his robe fall away. As he untied the tightly fastened cords, a pale gleam spilled through—reflected light radiating from polished metal.
A Holy Iron Inquisitor stood there in full plate armor.
“You’ve got a Holy Inquisitor standing in front of you.”
“Goddammit,” Khan muttered through gritted teeth as if spitting the words out. His beastlike instincts, keener than any human’s, had already sensed the truth.
He knew—even if he fought here and now, his chances were slim. Even if their skill levels were equal, their power was not. The sacred spell was on Caesare’s side, and just from equipment alone, Caesare was several levels above.
Still, Khan’s fighting spirit didn’t die. His tightly clenched fist crackled as his bones strained. If Caesare pushed him to the edge of a cliff, Khan would no doubt lunge to take him down with him.
“And what brings a knight of the Goddess to such a filthy hole?”
Caesare didn’t answer the question—instead, he declared, “Khan, known as ‘Fang’ of Blaine’s slums. I’ve come to borrow your strength for the subjugation of Evil in District Twenty-Five.”
“Evil...? You mean those bastards were
the
‘Evil’?!”
“Correct.”
Khan’s brow furrowed as his face twisted into disbelief. He’d feared the possibility—but to think they really were the ones. It was like stirring the bushes only to find not a snake, but a basilisk inside.
This was indeed a situation dire enough to warrant a Holy Iron Inquisitor’s deployment.
With his face still scrunched, Khan snapped, “You want to borrow
my
strength? For a Church raid? I’m not helping even if you paid me. Don’t think I don’t know how messed up those exolaw wielders are.”
“Sorry, but you don’t have the right to refuse,” Caesare brushed off the objection with a calm tone. He had expected resistance from the start. “Even if you didn’t know they were Evil, you and your crew concealed the situation until it escalated this far. I’m offering you a chance to clear yourself. But if you refuse—”
“If I refuse?”
Caesare’s eyes gleamed with unshakable resolve as he continued, “Then I’ll put every last one of you on the heretic list. You’d better start looking for a rat hole to crawl into—because you’ll be running to the ends of the continent.”
For once, Khan was speechless. He could barely handle the Inquisitor in front of him—if he was listed as a heretic, even ten lives wouldn’t save him.
Laughing bitterly, Khan gave up and grabbed a liquor bottle.
“Well, shit. I guess I got hoisted by my own damn scheme.”
Caesare paid no mind to his attitude and continued, “That goes for the Keeper as well. If you don’t want to take the fall alone, pass the message along.”
“
Hm
? Just me and the Keeper?”
“Two is all we need for actual combat. The rest can focus on evacuating and isolating the civilians before the operation starts.”
Khan, who had emptied the bottle in one go, narrowed his eyes and asked, “A small elite team, huh. You planning a decapitation strike?”
Caesare raised his guard another notch at the keen reply.
“You’re clever. That’s all I’m telling you. The operation will be carried out in two days—be fully prepared by then.”
In any case, excluding Khan wasn’t an option. With something like a City Swallowing, unity was essential. No matter how things turned out, it would still be better than everyone dying.
Leon realized that now, all preparations were complete. From here on, all he had to do was do his part to the best of his ability.
El-Cid, as always, chimed in, —Big talk, after you were quaking earlier.
Shut it, you cursed sword.
Leon tapped the back of his hand with a soft laugh. The anxiety that once weighed on his heart had completely vanished.