Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 106

When the blazing Holy Sword pierced that thick skull, the drake's rapid descent immediately lost more than half its momentum. It wasn’t an instant death as its brain hadn’t been destroyed, but the damage was severe enough that it could no longer control its mana.

A drake’s flight wasn’t powered by its wings alone. The true engine of its aerial prowess was the mana organ near the wing bones.

The drake’s body was simply too massive, too heavy. Its thin wing membranes—barely a hundred meters—might allow it to glide at best. Sustained flight was only possible thanks to that organ.

“Grrrk... grrk... grk...”

The same maw that once roared with pride and spat breath now foamed with blood. The monster was already as good as dead.

Its life force, like a fraying rope wedged in a sheath, was hanging by a thread. It was only a matter of when it would snap. Its ruined, blinded eyes still flickered faintly, proof of lingering consciousness.

“Grrr... rr...”

Fly. Fly to that hated foe.

It fanned its dying embers, stirring the flame of its fading soul to beat its wings one last time. Forward. Forward. Its only compass now was the golden light.

It had to crash into the one who split open its chest. It didn’t need sight—its body remembered. Its blood remembered who had driven the sword into it.

Just then—

“Hm. Real persistent for a monster, aren’t you?”

The already cold flesh of the drake felt a fresh chill. Not from the words, but the killing intent in them, as well as the position they came from.

It was above its head. To be precise, it was lower than the crown but higher than the snout.

“Can’t see, guts spilling out, and you’ve even got a Holy Sword stuck in your skull... Still not giving up, huh?”

That voice. It remembered that voice. It was none other than the one who snuck in playfully from the edge of its awareness—the female who drove a spike into its one remaining eye.

It had focused so intently on the male that it had forgotten her. Yet in many ways, she was more dangerous. Unlike the male, who clashed strength for strength, she appeared only when the balance teetered and collapsed it. The drake tried to shake her off, but it was futile.

“Well, this is it.”

Karen emerged from the shadow of the sword buried in its brow. Then, she kicked the hilt with a sharp, driving stomp.

The blade drove deeper, finally piercing the brain. It was the finishing blow.

“Grrk.”

Even an S+ rank monster dies when its brain is destroyed. The foaming beast lost its momentum and fell far off target, crashing well past Leon.

Even without the speed, it still weighed dozens of tons. The moment it hit the ground, a cloud of dust exploded into the air.

The drake’s body, tougher than most metals, struck the canyon wall at an angle like a bomb dropped from the heavens, triggering a mini-landslide. Rocks, earth, and dust collapsed over the blood-soaked scales as if burying it.

It looked like a funeral.

“It’s over...”

Only then did Leon slump to the ground and start rubbing his numb thighs.

The Stigma of the Guardian was still hard at work. Sunlight streamed down, replenishing him in real time. In a few more minutes, he’d be able to move again.

El-Cid spoke first.

—This one was actually dangerous.

Though the sword was still lodged in the drake’s head, it didn’t hinder their conversation in the slightest.

—That last bit of tenacity, the way it thought, and its mastery of Primal Magic... If you hadn’t finished it, it might’ve evolved into a Demon Dragon.

“A Demon Dragon?”

—Yeah. One of those dragons that deviates from its original path.

Drakes, like wyverns, were considered a lower species of true dragons. Their intelligence and power far exceeded most monsters.

However, monsters weren’t limited to what they were born as. Just like goblins could become hobgoblins, or orcs evolve into high orcs, a wyvern or a drake could evolve into a higher species of dragon.

—Normally, Demon Dragons are corrupted dragon hatchlings gone astray. But technically, lower types like this can evolve too.

The chance of that, though, was infinitesimal. Even weaker species struggled to evolve once. For dragon-types, it was an event that might occur once every few centuries.

—An average drake’s danger level is S+. But this one was beyond that. You fought well.

“Yeah, I thought it was a lot stronger than usual.”

—You had to resort to throwing me.

Leon chuckled at El-Cid’s grumbling tone and teased, “What, are you sulking because I tossed you?”

—I’m annoyed that my so-called disciple used some bastardized technique with no pedigree. What’s your excuse?

“You’re the one who told me not to be bound by form and fight freely.”

At that, El-Cid exploded.

—If you’d just learned the damn three-technique-chain move properly, you wouldn’t have needed to throw me at all!

“Ugh.”

The Grand Chariot’s three techniques could be chained in succession to unleash a power stronger than even North Star Cross. If Leon had mastered that from the beginning, the drake wouldn’t have been a threat.

Instead, he had thrown the sword and relied on Karen’s help. He really had no excuse.

—Still, for improvisation, it wasn’t bad. When you’re cornered, sometimes you need to risk everything.

The textbook method was ideal, but situations where that wasn’t an option would always come. Leon’s thrown sword wasn’t the best solution, but it was a viable one. El-Cid didn’t criticize him further and let his tone soften.

—Your legs should be working again. Go check on the girl. She’s probably waiting alone.

“Oh, right.”

At that, Leon stood and staggered forward. Even with his troll-like recovery rate, his thighs trembled like jelly. A single misstep and he’d collapse.

He was only able to keep himself upright thanks to Rodrick’s Footwork. With that, he pressed on, limping out of the ruined canyon toward the drake’s crash site.

And soon, he found Karen.

“‘The Golden Sword pierced the wicked dragon’s head, but the blind beast did not withdraw its fangs. At the moment of crisis, the Hero’s one and only companion appeared atop the sword hilt! Karen drove the blade deeper and—’”

She was sitting on the drake’s mangled head, scribbling in her notebook—the one she always kept tucked in her coat. Apparently, she was quite proud of her role.

Leon smiled and called out, “Karen!”

“Hey, Mr. Hero!”

As soon as he called, she hopped down and hurried over, tapping her cheek playfully.

“You saw it, right? That final blow I landed?”

“Yeah, I saw it clearly.”

“I did it, but it felt so unreal! It was like my body and the sword’s shadow became one. I’ve never controlled Aura like that before!”

Whether it was thanks to the Twilight Waltz or her own progress, she may have reached a higher level in this battle. Karen beamed and chattered nonstop.

With the completion of the drake extermination, the two of them had defeated a catastrophe-level S+ ranked monster. The thrill of victory brought smiles to their faces.

In the middle of her rambling, Karen suddenly clammed up. Leon blinked, unsure why.

She said, “Huh...? Hey, Mr. Hero?”

“Yeah?”

With a strangely conflicted look, she tilted her head and muttered, “I... think I might’ve become a Master.”

Leon’s eyes widened at the absurd claim.

***

A few hours after Leon and Karen had slain the drake, Balkan, who had realized the battle was over, brought the good news back to the village.

The drake was an S+ ranked monster and a rare beast said to dwell deep within the Titan Mountains. The materials that could be harvested from its corpse were of immense value.

Scales, bones, blood, innards—everything could be repurposed. Not a single part would go to waste.

“Hm...”

Behind the giants who were busy dismantling the drake’s body, Kasim was carefully examining Karen, who stood before him, all because of one statement she had made: “I think I might’ve become a Master.”

Normally, no one knew their own limits better than themselves. And for a threshold as clearly defined as Master-level, even more so. Karen, however, couldn’t quite tell what she had attained, so she had come to Kasim for guidance.

Kasim finally spoke after watching her quietly for several minutes.

“You’re a Master, alright.”

“Really?!” Karen cheered, raising her arms in triumph, but after a moment, a question popped into her mind, and she asked again.

“Then why does it feel so uncertain?”

“Because you barely scraped past the threshold,” Kasim answered without hesitation. “A Master, regardless of weapon or form, is someone who has reached the end of martial truth. Fast blades, heavy swords, iron fists—beyond the physical and technical, it means stepping just past the laws of the world themselves.”

Then, he paused and looked at her before continuing.

“Maybe it’s because your growth environment was so irregular, but your understanding of martial arts is far too lacking for the realm you’ve reached. You have to fill the cup before you can empty it. You have to solidify before you can break through.”

“...”

“You’ve learned the Twilight Waltz of the Duskgloom, so you must know. Martial arts aren’t just methods of moving your body. Now that you’ve crossed the wall, you need to reflect on what part of yourself surpassed its limits and how you’re going to shape it going forward.”

To outsiders, half of this might have sounded like riddles. Warriors, on the other hand, knew. When one’s stuck behind a wall, and someone shows them the breakthrough, it feels like they’d trade their heart in gratitude.

“Thank you, Giant King.”

Karen dropped her usual lightheartedness and put her hands together. She instinctively recognized the weight of what he’d told her.

Kasim accepted her thanks with a silent nod and then turned to Leon and spoke.

“I don’t really have anything to say to you, brother.”

“Have I made no progress...?”

“No, it’s just that there’s no need to say anything. If you keep training and fighting the way you are, you’ll grow on your own. That’s what it means to follow the royal road.”

Besides, Leon already had someone more suited to guide him than Kasim—El-Cid. From an ordinary commoner to the wielder of the Holy Sword, El-Cid had brought him this far. It was thanks to that sword that Leon had sensed the coming age of chaos and yet felt no fear.

Just as their conversation was wrapping up, the Titans’ butchering of the drake had nearly reached its end.

“I’d love to hear your battle story too,” Kasim said, “but let’s save that for when we get back to the village. Tonight’s going to be a feast.”

“A feast?”

Leon and Karen blinked in surprise. Kasim pointed with a smile to the fallen drake behind him.

“Monsters ranked S or higher are rare even in these mountains. And it’s been twenty years since a drake was last brought down, so a lot of my boys are going to be drooling to taste it.”

“‘Taste’? You mean... you’re going to eat that?!”

Both of them went pale, recalling how the drake’s black blood had melted stone. Eat meat soaked in that poison? Did Titans have stomachs made of orichalcum?

Kasim saw through their thoughts and let out a hearty laugh.

“Don’t worry. You think we’d just gnaw on raw meat without a clue? Every type of monster has its own proper method of preparation. You’ll be treated to dishes that can’t be found anywhere else on the continent, so enjoy it while you can.”

Even after hearing his boast, the two couldn’t relax. These were Titans. Leon and Karen had once witnessed them roasting trolls alive, sliced off regenerating meat, and treated it like a buffet. Who knew what kind of horrifying cuisine awaited them?

They thought they were out of the frying pan, but it turned out they had jumped into the fire. They might’ve just faced an enemy more dangerous than the drake.

With no chance to escape Kasim’s massive grasp, the Hero party was dragged off toward the Titan village.