Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 7

Chapter 7
It was a speed so unfamiliar that it made Leon feel like a stranger in his own body. The fellow cadets who had started beside him were already far behind. Leon had widened the gap even before completing the first lap, something the old Leon never could have done.
Feeling a strange sense of dissonance, Leon recalled El-Cid’s words:
—You’d better get excited. You’re about to experience something way beyond your expectations.
And he had. This definitely exceeded everything Leon had known to be possible.
Physical ability wasn’t something that improved overnight. Even with daily training over long periods, progress was incremental—sometimes barely noticeable. Clearly, El-Cid had done
something,
but Leon couldn’t figure out what, and that only made it more baffling.
Before he could even begin to work through that confusion, he finished the second lap.
“L-Leon! That’s one minute and twenty-nine seconds!” the instructor exclaimed in disbelief.
Leon had finished ahead of the rest of his group by more than half a lap and beaten his own best time by over ten seconds. He had just barely cracked into the minute-twenty range—on par with Lyon.
Several more students crossed the finish line after him, and once the records were all marked, the instructor walked straight up to Leon, stammering in shock.
“L-Leon... did you awaken your Aura?”
It was a fair question. There were only two ways to improve physical performance that drastically in just a few weeks: taking high-grade elixirs or awakening Aura. And since Leon had no family backing him, elixirs were out of the question. That left Aura.
Leon almost smiled but shook his head and answered, “No, sir.”
“Then... would you mind if I checked myself?”
“Go ahead., sir.”
With Leon’s consent, the instructor grabbed his wrist. This was the most common method to test for Aura. By flowing a small trace of Aura into someone’s body, they could check for resistance. If the subject had awakened Aura, it would bounce the flow right back.
But the instructor immediately let go, his face a picture of disbelief as he muttered, “You really haven’t awakened it... And yet, in just a few weeks... Leon, what kind of training have you been doing?”
Leon was as clueless as the instructor was, so he answered honestly.
“Just the basics, sir. Honestly, I’ve had more rest than usual lately—you’d know better than anyone.”
“That’s true... your training load was insane before. Maybe your body finally took this chance to recover after all those years of overtraining...? No, that still doesn’t explain it...”
The instructor furrowed his brows, thinking it over, but gave up and called the next round of students to the line. He had accepted Leon’s result.
As soon as Leon returned to his spot, he closed his eyes. He had a few things to say to El-Cid, and it was also the best way to avoid getting dragged into conversations with curious classmates who were rushing over to him.
El-Cid, what the hell did you do to me?
—Well? Told you, didn’t I?
El-Cid chuckled, clearly enjoying Leon’s shock. It felt like the sword was dragging it out on purpose, but Leon couldn’t wait any longer.
Quit laughing and explain. This kind of change doesn’t come from just cutting back on workouts, right? Like the instructor said?
—Of course not.
El-Cid finally started explaining, as if it was nothing. —Here’s what you need to understand first, Leon. Where do you think “strength” actually comes from?
You’re not asking something philosophical, are you...?
—Biologically.
Oh, then muscles.
—Correct.
As soon as Leon answered, El-Cid continued, —Then what makes a muscle
strong
? How do you actually increase muscle strength?
After a brief hesitation, Leon answered again,
Uh... by increasing their size or density?
—That’s right. Most of the physical training methods in the world focus on one of those two things.
But El-Cid didn’t stop there. He offered a third factor.
—Without understanding neuromuscular function, you're only getting half the picture.
“Neuromuscular...?”
—You know what the nervous system is, right? Naturally, muscles have nerves too, and the strength you can produce is directly related to how developed those nerve pathways are. That’s why someone’s physical strength isn’t always reflected in their build.
Even most of the Academy instructors didn’t know this, and that wasn’t surprising—knowledge at this level was typically passed down in secret within noble martial families.
If you didn’t learn it from someone, you had no way of knowing. And those who
did
know held an overwhelming advantage. It was one of the reasons the gap between nobles and commoners rarely flipped.
—Muscle density tends to be genetically fixed, and there’s a clear limit to how much you can grow muscle mass. You were already pushing those limits. So I focused on developing your neuromuscular system.
Leon was getting the gist of this new lesson, but he still had one lingering question.
Okay... I think I follow. But how exactly did you develop it? I never did any training like that. Don’t tell me you poked around my brain while I was sleeping.
El-Cid then proceeded to shoot down Leon’s guess and drop the truth like it was nothing.
—As if. That “punishment” I’ve been giving you? That was the training. Your nervous system had been locked up for over ten years. Breaking through that in such a short time was bound to hurt—like slicing muscle with a blade.
Leon’s mouth fell open. A single word of shock slipped out without him realizing, “Wha...?”
All those times he’d writhed in agony from El-Cid’s punishments during “vision” training—those had been nervous system reactivation?!
He barely swallowed back a curse and asked,
Why the hell didn’t you tell me that earlier?!
—Because that way, it’s more upsetting for you and more satisfying for me.
Leon blinked repeatedly in disbelief, but El-Cid wasn’t done.
—You only managed to finish the basics of “seeing” in a month because of the pain. But now that you know it was inevitable pain—something you were going to go through anyway—do you really think you’d be able to focus like you did yesterday? I doubt it.
O-oh...
—Don’t bother thanking me, by the way. I’m just doing what any Holy Sword ought to do! Still, feels good to have something go right for once!
Now that Leon understood the full story, he looked down at the back of his left hand. Sure, it had helped him in the end. But not for a second did he feel even remotely thankful. He had suffered for a month straight with no warning because “feeling upset makes training more effective.” If he could be grateful for that, he might as well be a saint.
This “Holy” Sword, no better than a sadistic bastard, was supposed to house the soul and spirit of the great hero Rodrick, but if that were truly the case... maybe Rodrick hadn’t been a great hero at all. Maybe he had been history’s most successful villain.
Shockingly, that guess wasn’t far from the actual truth but without hard evidence, Leon’s suspicion couldn’t be confirmed.
He finally growled, glaring at the mark on his hand.
“Hey.”
—
Hmm
?
“Be honest, you’re actually a cursed sword, aren’t you?”
***
The physical assessment, thrown into a frenzy by Leon’s sudden leap in performance, finally wrapped up after three hours. He was still furious at El-Cid’s twisted, sadistic character, but even Leon had to admit the results spoke for themselves.
He had placed second in the rankings that combined both the commoner and noble class, leaving everyone in dust---though he still couldn’t overtake Lyon.
“Even that wasn’t enough to beat Lyon,” Leon muttered, noticing that Lyon had also slightly improved his own and managed to hold onto first place. Perhaps he was spurred on by Leon’s new record.
—You really thought you could beat him after just one month? Don’t start getting smug on me.
“I know, I know. It was just a thought.”
Born with superior genes, raised on expensive elixirs, and trained by the best instructors—that was a noble’s advantage. Without a ridiculous cheat code named El-Cid, Leon would never have narrowed the gap in the first place.
However, the reality was that he had jumped from ninth to second place, and that alone was impressive. He wasn’t planning to settle here, of course, but the only thing left to do now was keep pushing.
I can beat him.
Leon clenched both fists, his confidence blazing. Thinking about what El-Cid had done still made his skin crawl—but that pain had made this possible.
It wasn’t just his sprinting speed that had improved. His entire body had changed—from raw strength to explosive reflexes, all of it. He just hadn’t noticed earlier because El-Cid had deliberately restricted physical training.
—Bad habits picked up during neuromuscular development are hard to break. And you didn’t really have the headspace for anything beyond “the way to see.” Everything I do has a reason, you know?
“You could’ve told me that sooner...”
—Why don’t you, for once, just think maybe there’s a reason why I didn’t tell you?!
At El-Cid’s unapologetic reply, Leon looked down at the glowing sigil on the back of his hand and shivered. He desperately wanted to punch it, but all that would do was hurt himself.
Had he made a mistake drawing the Holy Sword that day? Maybe he was actually duped by a cursed sword in disguise, not chosen by a Holy Sword.
—Hey! I
told
you—I’m not a cursed sword!
As if to aid El-Cid’s protest, the symbol on his hand flashed with holy light. Leon’s headache immediately worsened.
Merciful Goddess, why this of all things for a Holy Sword?
Leon thought before eventually giving up and flopping back on his bed.
Whether he liked it or not, El-Cid’s methods worked. He just had zero regard for Leon’s feelings. Unfortunately, the results were clear, so if this was part of the Holy Sword’s “trials,” then fine. He would endure it.
“Whatever... What’s the training plan for tomorrow?” Leon asked.
—Hmm... let’s see. You’re past the stage where “the way to see” is just memorization, and there’s not much more I can do to tweak your body. Now you need experience—learn how to use what you’ve gained.
“That doesn’t sound easy.”
—Which is exactly why I said we need to get out of here.
This was an academy for nobles, dozens of whom were high-status heirs. There was no way they’d let anyone gather live combat experience in a place like this. The campus was so well-patrolled that even nearby monsters had long been wiped out.
Knowing all that, El-Cid gave a resigned sigh and pivoted.
—Well, can’t be helped. Let’s just recalibrate your sword forms to match your new body. Practice some unorthodox movements, keep using “the way to see,” and stay sharp.
“You’re still not gonna teach me any sword techniques?”
—You can’t use any of my techniques until you awaken Aura. Like I said before, up to a certain point, all you need is flexible use of fundamentals. Stop fantasizing about sword techniques already.
El-Cid’s tone was practically scolding. He continued, —Without Aura, swordsmanship is just movement. “Secret techniques” might throw people off once, but once your opponent sees through the trick, they’re easy to counter. Do you really think someone like Lyon—who fights in a purely traditional style—would fall for some flashy gimmick?
“Then what
should
I do?”
—Play to your strengths. A sword tempered through years of hard work is solid. Now that your physical ability’s caught up, not even Lyon can dominate against you. But...
El-Cid suddenly trailed off, paused, and then continued, —...What you really need now is actual combat experience. Man, if only someone would just pick a fight with you out of nowhere...
“This isn’t some back-alley slum. What kind of idiot would pick a fight at the Academy?”
—You’re right, yeah.
Leon and El-Cid sighed together, almost in sync.
It was ridiculous. The Holy Sword and the Hero, chosen to bring peace to the world, sitting around wishing someone would just randomly start a fight with them. If the Church ever caught wind of this, they’d probably weep blood and beg them to repent.
But before the Church could do anything, someone found them first, the very next day.
***
“So you’re that peasant named Leon?”
At the sudden confrontation, Leon could only blink, stunned.
The crests on their uniforms clearly marked them as noble-class students—and there were six of them, all standing around him in a loose circle. Leon had no idea what was going on, but luckily, one of them was happy to explain.
“Second place? A peasant like you? You cocky bastard! You must’ve cheated behind the instructor’s back, but you’re not fooling us!”
El-Cid, who caught on even faster than Leon, cheered.
—Oh, man! Some things really
haven’t
changed in three hundred years!