Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 61

Chapter 61
Three shadows streaked across the desert. Two of them belonged to a former ranger and a top-class assassin—both professions that specialized in tracking.
With experts like these, there was no hesitation. Leon only had to follow in their wake.
Had only one of Hamel and Karen been present, the pursuit might have taken longer. Hamel’s tracking skills were fine-tuned for forests and mountains, making it harder to apply in the desert.
However, with the tracking scent Karen had used earlier to guide them, it was a different story. The pursuit progressed swiftly and without issue.
After running for dozens of minutes, Leon and the others began to feel a shift beneath their feet. The once soft surface of the sand had grown firmer.
There were two primary types of desert terrain: sandy deserts and rocky deserts. Most people imagined vast seas of sand when they thought of deserts, but in reality, rocky deserts were more widespread.
“Looks like we’ve tracked them well,” Hamel said with a chilling voice, glancing down at the ground as he jogged.
Unlike sand, rocky terrain left more persistent tracks. Just beyond the battlefield, strange sets of hoofprints branched off in several directions, indicating that they hopped on some form of transportation.
Karen spotted them too and nodded. “
Ah
. Camels.”
“Camels? Aren’t those slow?” Leon asked without thinking, only vaguely aware of the animal.
He didn’t
not
know what camels were—he just had the impression they were slow. Using them to flee seemed odd.
Hamel chuckled and corrected him.
“Everyone thinks that, but camels are far from slow. People just assume based on looks since they’ve never seen one run. You think the western nomads would use them instead of horses in wars for no reason?”
“Camels... as war mounts?!” Leon stammered in shock.
“Sure. Horses are a bit faster at max speed, yeah, but camels have stamina. They can keep pace with horses over short distances, and over long distances, they’re better. There’s even an old record of a camel-mounted unit pursuing enemies nearly eight hundred kilometers over eight days.”
Camels had far superior endurance than horses and comparable speed. Unlike hooves, their feet didn’t sink into sand, and they could survive on a single sip of water for days. In the desert, camels easily outclassed horses.
Impressed, Leon picked up his pace.
The bandits probably didn’t think we’d chase them this far. Their tracks are converging now. At this rate, we’ll catch up to them in one place...
And sure enough, that was what had happened. If the bandits had really been wary of pursuit, they would’ve scattered again after reaching the rocky desert. A small group of pursuers could easily lose their trail if they split up again.
However, they hadn’t. They fled mindlessly in one direction. Aside from the boss, none of them were much of a threat.
“Hold up.”
Karen, in the lead, raised a hand. No explanation was needed; it was a ravine.
Not above ground, but sunken far below—the kind of terrain you wouldn’t notice from a distance. It looked more like a crevasse hidden under ice than a desert valley.
“This must be the hideout of those rats,” Hamel muttered, narrowing his eyes.
A gentle slope led down, shallow enough that even camels could descend. Clear tracks were etched into the surface. Karen, however, seemed focused on something else.
“What is it? Something suspicious?” Leon asked.
She surveyed the ravine as she replied, “This wasn’t formed naturally. It’s manmade. Looks pretty old and I can’t tell what it was for.”
“A
manmade
ravine? This?”
It had to be over thirty meters deep. Even with hundreds of workers, it would take years to carve out. And who would excavate something like this in the middle of a rocky desert? The trio slowly descended the slope, exchanging thoughts.
“This structure’s at least a hundred years old,” Karen said. “Something’s carved into these walls, but it’s too worn out to read.”
Her slender fingers brushed the rock. Odd patterns and engravings could be seen, but none could be deciphered or reconstructed.
It seemed the bandits had discovered this abandoned place and repurposed it as a hideout. Who would suspect an underground facility of this scale hidden in the middle of a rocky desert?
Wait. A hundred years ago...!
—
Mm
.
El-Cid, scanning the ravine through Leon’s eyes, affirmed his speculation, —You’re right. This place is likely tied to the desertification of this region. Though whether there are any clues left...
But could digging a hole really turn a grassland into a desert?
—No way. Otherwise, every mining town would be a desert. And this wasn’t just some random land. It was once the center of a spiritual leyline that nourished the whole grassland. They turned it inside out, so now not even weeds grow here.
They ruined a leyline? Why?
—That’s for you to find out.
Clicking his tongue, Leon concealed his presence. The trio had arrived at the entrance to a cave at the bottom of the ravine.
The number of presences picked up by his Aura Sense was increasing—almost a hundred now. It was clear: the group that attacked the caravan was only part of a much larger band.
“There are three lookouts. What now?” Hamel whispered, peering over a boulder.
Killing them would be simplest, but Leon was still uncertain about his values. He hesitated, but only until he heard them speak.
“Hey, I heard today was a total bust?”
“Don’t even ask. Half the guys who went out got slaughtered, and the boss cut down two more just to blow off steam.”
“See? I told you, don’t mess with caravans. You’ll just get wiped out. Small groups of travelers—now that’s the sweet spot.”
“Right? And if there’s a nice broad, get some fun in while you’re at it?”
“
Heh
, you know me so well.”
What was casual banter to them was enough to ignite fury in Leon’s eyes. He’d been looking for a reason
not
to kill them. They’d just confessed every reason
to
. His Aura surged with righteous fury and his hand moved to his sword.
Ah...
And then he saw it.
Amid the pile of trash near the cave’s edge, half-buried and cracked—was a human skull. Leon’s voice dropped low.
“Let’s do this.”
That was the signal. All three leaped over the rock at once, landing silently behind the lookouts. None of them realized they were under attack until it was too late.
Blood sprayed the stone floor from torn necks. Three corpses fell while their comrades walked further into the hideout without realizing what had just happened.
A damp, musty scent typical of underground chambers filled the air. It was narrow, dark, and twisted—a perfect battlefield for assassins.
“This way,” Karen whispered.
Cloaked in shadowy Aura, she guided the others with her voice. Even if the enemy were a ragtag bunch, a hundred was still too many. They needed to minimize contact and get to the boss.
For any average trio of B-ranks, it would’ve been a tall order. Luckily, they weren’t just average.
Karen moved like a lizard, scaling walls, ceilings, and corners without a sound. She found hiding spots even where there were none and snuck up behind enemies who thought they were in plain view.
She’d already taken out over a dozen without being noticed. While Hamel’s bow and Leon’s longsword made stealth difficult for them, Karen thrived in this environment.
“
Whew
. Finally starting to get warmed up,” she said with a grin, snapping another neck. “Sitting in that wagon all day had me stiff. Gotta move to keep my edge sharp.”
Leon and Hamel exchanged glances without a word. This beautiful woman before them was cracking a man’s neck as a warm-up exercise.
Hamel asked a silent question with his eyes.
Has she always been like that?
Yes.
Good luck, kid.
When Leon glared at Hamel’s raised thumbs in exasperation, Karen leaned in with a puzzled look and asked, “What? Something on my face?”
“Hold on. You’ve got blood on you.”
“
Huh
?
Oh
...”
Perhaps due to her dark elf bloodline, Karen’s skin was tanned a warm, healthy brown. Leon brushed his fingers against her cheek to wipe away the blood. He felt the taut resilience of her skin press back against his thumb.
Karen stood frozen for a moment. After a couple of quick shakes of her head, she resumed walking.
Leon found her reaction oddly unfamiliar, but it seemed Hamel had gotten a certain idea.
“Well, well. Not bad, kid,” Hamel said, chuckling.
“What now...?”
“You’ll find out eventually, buddy. A
loooong
time from now.”
The ex-ranger’s usual sharp demeanor was gone, replaced by a laid-back, almost sleazy grin as he patted Leon on the back.
Leon didn’t get it yet. For an assassin, personal boundaries were abnormally tight. Unless she chose to approach, it was rare for anyone to get near her. That single touch had left her flustered—just long enough to lose her composure.
“
Huff... huff
...”
Karen, who hadn’t made a sound until now, was breathing heavily until something sharpened in her eyes. She sensed something.
Personal feelings meant nothing before a battle. She quickly regained composure and signaled with her hands. She raised a finger, folded it, then clenched her fist several times.
Target identified. Engagement unavoidable. Fifteen enemies.
Leon and Hamel nodded. There was no avoiding this one.
Aura Sense told them the room was fairly spacious—enough for both Leon and Hamel to fight freely. They were outnumbered, yes, but the difference in individual ability was significant.
Aside from their boss, most of them weren’t even capable of a proper fight with a C-rank, let alone two B-ranks.
“I’ll handle the boss. You two take care of the rest,” Karen said.
It was the right call. Anyone who could fool the Aura Sense of an A-ranker wouldn’t hesitate to run the moment they saw an opening. With Karen marking him, that window would vanish. She untied the rope at her waist and silently melted into the shadows, dual daggers in hand.
“Damn. She vanished right in front of me and I didn’t even notice,” Hamel muttered, tongue clicking in awe. He knew A-rankers were impressive, but witnessing one up close was another story.
“Let’s move too,” Leon said.
Since they couldn’t hide like her, Leon and Hamel would have to charge in head-on. Strangely enough, there was only one entrance to the room. Perhaps it had some special purpose? There was no point speculating.
“I’ll start things off,” Hamel said.
As the archer, opening fire was his job.
He padded lightly past Leon, catlike in his movements, and stepped through the doorway already drawing his bowstring.
Before the bandits who saw him could shout, an arrow screamed through the air. Its blunt tip was packed with metal shards and gunpowder. The explosive arrow, once used before, ignited with Aura as it rose toward the ceiling.
With a loud
boom
, shrapnel rained down, tearing flesh and piercing deep into several enemies. The wounds weren’t fatal, but the shock and pain triggered full-blown panic.
Even with the enemy in sight, the bandits focused on their own pain. The panic only lasted a few seconds, but that was more than enough for a B-rank swordsman to gain an upper hand.
“W-who are y...” a bandit muttered.
“Don’t worry about it,” Leon answered coldly as his blade tore through one of them.
There was no need to waste Aura. A precise swing slit the man’s throat, spraying blood across the face of the one beside him. The second man flinched, and Leon also cut him across the waist as he passed.
El-Cid had said it: a swordsman grows with every swing. Without realizing it, Leon had learned to gauge fatal strikes by feel alone. He could read an opponent’s reactions and place his sword right into their path. Against anyone three levels beneath him, he could finish the fight in one blow.
“It’s the bastards from the caravan! How the hell did they track us?!”
The bandit boss shouted in disbelief. He didn’t give a damn about his subordinates. They were always regarded as fodder to him, so he hadn’t raised any of them properly. If some died, he’d just find more. His snake-like eyes scanned the two intruders.
Swordsman and archer. Both mid-to-high B-rank, at least. No way I win a head-on fight.
It was a thoroughly bad matchup. Assassins thrived in the dark. They struck first without taking any hits themselves.
Pride meant nothing. The boss had no shame in retreating. However, just as he began to slip away, a chill ran down his spine.
“
Keugh
!”
He dove to the side—but not fast enough. A blade scorched his ankle.
“You bitch...”
“Not bad. I was aiming to cut it clean off.”
Karen smirked from behind, appearing without a sound. A blue-greenish glow flickered from the dagger hooked around her finger.
The boss’s eyes widened. It hadn’t severed the whole joint, but it had cut deep into the tendon. Even with Aura reinforcement, he wouldn’t be able to escape her.
“Don’t be surprised. You’re the one who decided to rot living as a petty thief for the past four years. Four years ago, you might’ve dodged that sneak attack.”
“What...?”
The bandit boss’ eyes trembled. That was impossible. No one knew his past. He’d never told anyone. Everyone who did know... was dead.
Except one.
There was only one person who knew and still lived.
“Long time no see, Mole,” Karen said, her face as cold as ever. “I told you, didn’t I? Quit this life. Or I’d kill you myself.”
“Keeper...”
For the first time in years, two assassins faced each other again. They’d walked the same path. Raised without family in the slums, trained as members of the Assassin’s Guild, their hands soaked in blood.
When Karen broke free from that cycle, it was already too late for others. They were twisted too far to ever live in the light. Still, she’d spared him once because she knew she could’ve ended up just like him.
“There won’t be a second time.”
Shadows slithered up from beneath her feet like spikes. The Keeper stared at him, expressionless.
“Die.”