Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 58

Chapter 58
With a divine hum, a wave of light surged forward. The flash bursting from Leon’s blade pierced through several trees, slicing through the darkness of night as it chased down the Forest Troll.
A beat later, the tree trunks split and shifted, disrupting the flow of wind and silencing the forest. Though its power and speed were a bit lower than during the Evil raid, it was more than enough to take down a Forest Troll.
In just a few seconds, Merak sliced clean through the troll’s waist.
“Guragh?!”
The troll was in disbelief. It hadn’t felt a thing, yet its lower body dropped to the ground, spilling entrails and blood.
Already possessing worse regenerative capabilities than other types of trolls, the Forest Troll had no chance of recovering from that level of damage. The creature, just about to leap to the next tree, plummeted to the earth with a blunt
thud.
It wasn’t a landing but a crash as its head smashed into the ground. Even so, it thrashed for several seconds more.
Foamy spittle bubbled from its severed waist as if it was trying to regenerate, but the lost lower body was not coming back. Unable to die swiftly due to the classic troll resilience, the monster convulsed until its eyes rolled back and it finally stopped breathing.
“
Whew
.”
Leon lowered his sword, watching it until the very end.
I thought I might miss... thank goodness I didn’t.
The moment he let go of the tension, his knees buckled. Less than ten percent of his Aura remained.
Unlike Eclipse, which only concentrated power into the blade, Merak released Aura, consuming far more. Even in peak condition, he’d be lucky to use it twice.
The cool air and the feel of the soil calmed him. Then, a familiar voice came.
“Wow! You actually did it? As expected of our Hero—amazing!”
Karen suddenly appeared at his side and plopped down next to him. Only then did Leon remember she was even there, attesting to the intensity of the battle.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t
needed
to land the final blow. Even without using Merak, Karen would’ve prevented the troll’s escape, so in a way, it was a pointless exertion.
No... not pointless.
The sensation in his hand was still vivid. He had never succeeded in using that technique during practice.
It wasn’t perfectly executed, and he wasn’t sure he could do it again if asked right now. Regardless, Leon was happy—because for the first time, he had successfully used a technique El-Cid taught him, on his own.
He had taken another step forward since last night.
“
Urgh
...” Leon groaned as his vision flickered and returned.
“Oh, hitting your limit already? It's because of that final technique, right? Looked like it ate up a ton of Aura.”
“Karen...”
“Don’t worry and get some proper rest. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Her voice guided him as he surrendered to her arms. The moment he closed his eyes, his consciousness sank deep. Then, he felt Karen lift him up and leap into the air.
A deep, dark sleep enveloped him like a blanket. He remembered nothing after that.
That comfort was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. As a child, he enjoyed it—but ever since meeting Lyon, sleep had felt like a waste because each night widened the gap between them. Time, supposedly equal for everyone, felt terribly unfair in those moments.
But it’s okay now...
He could fall asleep dreaming of a better tomorrow. And so, satisfied with the step he had taken, Leon drifted off.
***
The next day, Leon awoke inside a swaying wagon. The sunlight flooding through the canvas roof indicated that it was already past noon. The brightness made him squint.
As awareness returned, so did the aching in his body. The lingering pain from the fierce battle immediately drove away the last traces of drowsiness. One night of sleep hadn’t been enough for a full recovery.
“
Ugh... Ah
!”
Then something came to mind. He reached for the relic hanging around his neck. It was a gift from Caesare, the bishop of the Blaine branch.
As soon as he willed the recovery sacred spell imbued in the necklace, a gentle light flowed from it. The glow spread through his body, and in moments, all remaining fatigue vanished cleanly.
“It’s more effective than I expected,” Leon muttered, looking at the relic that was at least mid-, or even high-grade.
You said it wasn’t much, Bishop Caesare.
Leon smiled faintly as Caesare’s face came to mind. He had clearly gone out of his way, despite pretending to not have done so.
In hindsight, it couldn’t possibly have been a minor item. It was an insignia that could summon
the
Holy Iron Inquisitors---that alone was a sign of its value.
In any case, thanks to it, Leon stood up, fully restored, and stepped out of the wagon, which had begun to slow down.
“Oh? You’re up already. Sure you should be moving around?”
Karen, apparently perched on the wagon roof, leaped down beside him.
Leon nodded and replied, “Bishop Caesare’s gift made the recovery pretty fast. What’s the situation?”
“Want me to explain from the moment you knocked out?”
“Please.”
Leon walked after Karen and listened closely.
“The troll hunt went pretty well. We got three out of four, and for trolls, getting even half is already a win. The one that got away was seriously injured, so chances are it won’t show its face around here again.”
“They’re that scared? But they’re a mid-tier monster?”
“It lost its whole pack. Until it builds its numbers again, it probably won’t even glance at this forest.”
A Forest Troll was a B-rank threat, and that was largely helped by its terrain advantage and pack hunting. Without those, it was far from being the strongest among mid-tier monsters. Being left all alone made it wary by necessity. Leon nodded in understanding.
By the time their conversation ended, they had reached their destination. In one of the wagons, Leon saw a pile of flesh.
“This is...”
“The corpses of the Forest Trolls. That’s three including the one you killed. Should be worth about eighty gold coins total.”
“They’re worth
that
much?!”
Leon stared, wide-eyed, at the troll bodies stacked onto a cargo wagon. Eighty gold was enough to purchase a high-grade artifact or weapon.
Sure, his spatial magic bracelet cost more, but it made sense given that his contributions during the raid dwarfed a few troll kills.
Karen explained, “They’re ingredients for potions, and mages pay well for the carcasses. Yours might only fetch twenty coins though—since it bled out so badly.”
“
Ah
, right.”
It was only natural after being sliced in two. Blood was the most valuable part of a troll. Spilling most of it meant a significantly lower price than intact corpses.
Leon looked wistfully at the other troll bodies and mused,
One was hacked to pieces with at least four different weapons. The other’s head got caved in from impact. I think I know who did that.
It had to be Gustav. With his brute strength, even a Forest Troll couldn’t overpower him. And his sword could definitely reach a four-meter-tall troll’s head.
Seeing the large scar across its upper abdomen, Leon figured the troll had first been struck in the belly to lower its posture, then finished with a blow to the back of the head. The entire sequence played vividly before his eyes.
Arnold hurried over the moment he spotted them.
“
Ah
! There you are, Ms. Karen, Mr. Leon,” he greeted.
“Mr. Arnold.”
“You both did exceptionally well last night. Mr. Leon, for taking down one of the trolls, and Ms. Karen, for honoring my request.”
“I was just fulfilling the job I was hired for,” Leon said.
“
Haha
, and that in itself is a virtue.”
As they chatted, a question occurred to Leon, and he turned to Arnold.
“How many casualties?”
“
Hmm
...” Arnold’s expression darkened as he replied, “Eight dead, twenty-one injured. No one is in critical condition, but we’ll have to part ways with a few in the next town.”
“Eight...”
“Yes, we’ll have to deliver their belongings and bodies. The Guild will assist with the funeral arrangements, so it shouldn’t be a major issue.”
Leon, unfamiliar with death, fell silent. Karen stepped forward in his place and held out her hand.
“Mr. Arnold, what about the troll’s price?”
“Of course. One corpse—so thirty gold coins should be proper, but it appears there’s not much blood left in the body...”
Karen, apparently not in the mood for meaningless back and forth, said, “I’m not a fan of haggling. Let’s say twenty and call it a day.”
“I could go as high as twenty-five...”
Karen wasn’t swayed, even by the offer of more.
“No need. It’s not like I don’t know the market rate. And I’m not so poor that I need to squeeze five coins out of you.”
“Oh dear, you saw through me?”
Arnold smiled awkwardly, his motive exposed. Ties with an A-rank were invaluable. If five gold coins could buy favor, it would be well worth it, but Karen offered no such opening.
This was on another level from receiving a fancy wagon. Accepting someone’s favor means you’ll eventually have to return it. Ever since traveling with Leon, she had no need to owe anyone anything.
Karen tucked the pouch of gold into her clothes. It would have been safer to store it in Leon’s bracelet, but spatial magic items weren’t something you easily displayed in front of others.
That was the end of their talk with Arnold. As he left for another wagon, Gustav, who had been waiting nearby, quickly approached.
“You’re awake! And you don’t even look injured—thank the heavens.”
“Captain,” Leon nodded.
“
Haha
, outside of work, just Gustav is fine. That aside, I came to ask—how did you do
that
? That’s what I’m dying to know.”
He gestured toward the troll corpse that had been split in two and continued, “You didn’t sever its neck. You cut right through the spine at the waist, and the cut was so clean too.”
“A secret sword technique. It’s my trump card.”
“
Urgh
... in that case, maybe I shouldn’t ask further.”
As Gustav backed off, Leon asked, “How are your men?”
“
Hm
? Oh, they’re fine. Hansen and Leonik came out with a few scrapes, and Hamel collapsed whining about exhaustion, but that was just business as usual.”
“That’s good to hear.”
At Leon’s words, Gustav glanced briefly at Karen behind him and then said, “Don’t dwell on it too much.”
“Sorry?”
“Anyone stepping into danger knows death might come. Plenty of folks carry their wills on them at all times. Feeling sorrow for their deaths is your right—but you don’t need to let it rot you from the inside.”
Leon’s eyes widened. With a stony face, Gustav grinned and patted him on the shoulder. Then, without another word, he walked back to his wagon.
Karen, watching his retreating back, let out a chuckle and teased, “Got comforted there, didn’t you, Mr. Hero?”
“Shut up,” Leon snapped as he waved her off, flustered.
Gustav’s words had pierced something deep in his heart. Leon was starting to realize that leading a group of mercenaries didn’t just show one’s physical strength.
He thought about them again as they returned to the wagon. Mourning and pity for the dead were natural emotions, but those feelings weren’t for the dead. They were for the living, to help them keep their hearts in the right place. Even a Hero meant to serve all shouldn’t forget that truth.
Don’t dwell too much... but not too little, either...
El-Cid had said something similar once, that those driven only by duty wouldn’t last. Conviction, he said, was a worldview—a compass, not a fuel source that would eventually burn out.
Alright.
With his heart in order, Leon blinked. Calming his thoughts quickly brought him peace.
And while he meditated, Karen—probably looking over the map—spoke to him about their upcoming plans.
“Once we’re out of the forest, it’s plains again. We’ll pass through a few small villages and then head into the desert at the border. Shouldn’t be any danger until then.”
“The desert, huh...”
The great desert in the western continent was known to be always in turmoil from clashes between nomads and countless monsters.
It was a land covered in sand, not soil, and with almost no rain. Extreme temperature swings between day and night. A truly, particularly merciless environment for any living thing.
“The desert area near the border isn’t that big. Should only take a week to cross by wagon.”
“Not that big of a desert,
huh
? So how long until we get there? I doubt we’ll be staying long in small villages.”
“
Hmm
... maybe five days at this pace?”
Five days. Leon repeated that, running a hand over his sword hilt. By then, El-Cid would be waking up.
He hadn’t heard from him in a month—and he missed that chatter, just a little. El-Cid, who was at once a cheerful companion, a remarkable teacher, and an infuriating friend, had left a bigger absence than Leon expected.
“
Ah
.”
At some point, the scenery outside the window had changed. They had emerged from the forest. The trees were gone, replaced by the sky and wide plains stretching far into the distance.