Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 127

There was no sound. No shock, either. In fact, there wasn’t even the sensation of having cut through something. There was only the light and heat pouring from Brave’s blade that swept forward.

After a few seconds, the searing light that burned at his eyelids began to fade, and Leon cautiously opened his eyes. The flow of power into his hands had stopped, and even the sword itself felt lighter.

“Ah...!”

When his blurred vision cleared, Leon saw the crater his strike had left behind. The ground had been vaporized into a perfect sphere as if a sun had fallen there.

Brave’s radiance had cut away only the dimensional gate connected to the Mirror Canyon, releasing no heat or shock beyond that range. His concern over collapsing the tunnel had guided the sword’s power.

Then, with a crack, Brave’s blade shattered like thin ice after having expended all of its power. Its body of special metal scattered like sand, leaving only the hilt intact.

Jugend Steel number 111, Brave. The sword, born of the Grand Meister two generations past in a stroke of genius, had finally fulfilled its purpose after hundreds of years.

So, this was the work of Alecto the Blacksmith... Leon thought.

Thanks to his will being passed down intact for centuries, Jugend’s crisis had been averted. It was a chain of cause and effect three hundred years long.

If Rodrick hadn’t quarreled with the dwarves... If Alecto hadn’t vowed to surpass him... If Irexana hadn’t passed that creation to Leon...

Countless chances and certainties had come together to overcome malice. As a Hero, Leon couldn’t help but feel his chest swell at that realization.

At that moment, El-Cid couldn’t hold back his curiosity.

—My disciple. Earlier, you said you figured out why Alecto made Brave a single-use sword. Why?

Oh, that? It’s actually pretty simple.

—Then quit stalling and say it. Who taught you to drag things out like this?

Take a wild guess... Leon smirked and explained, You once said that aside from the Holy Sword, you’ve never seen a weapon that didn’t break after a single swing from you.

—Yeah, I did.

So, Alecto must have thought, if it’s going to break after one swing anyway, why not just make a weapon meant to break in one swing from the start?

—Huh...?

It sounded absurd, but it made sense. Even El-Cid was left momentarily speechless.

And sure, the Holy Sword is powerful and wards off evil, but it doesn’t have Brave’s ability to concentrate everything into a single, overwhelming blow. We could even say that for this one strike, it surpassed the Holy Sword. Wouldn’t you agree?

—...

That’s just my guess, so Alecto’s real intention might’ve been different... but that’s what I think. What about you?

El-Cid fell silent. His memory was such that he could recall someone he’d seen three thousand years ago as if they’d met yesterday, let alone three centuries.

He could see the smug face of Alecto, that stubborn, stingy, and eccentric dwarf, grinning and saying, “Well? This time I win, don’t I?”

Out of sheer exasperation—at the audacity, at the gall—El-Cid laughed.

—Hahaha! That slabhead actually...!

He could have thought up dozens of ways to criticize it. He could have ranted about calling a disposable thing a sword, but instead, he just laughed.

The stubborn fool he’d met only a few times three hundred years ago had forced such a sword into existence—and it had opened the path for his disciple in this era.

—Fine! You win, you short little bastard!

For the first time, he admitted defeat to someone and even found it immensely satisfying. If he’d had a body, he would have laughed until his abs ached.

If Alecto had heard him, how happy would he have been? He’d boast about it to everyone, wander the land telling the tale, and never set down his beer mug for a whole year. Hoping that somewhere, the dwarf could hear him, El-Cid laughed out loud.

“A splendid strike, Hero,” Irexana said with a smile, appearing at Leon’s side. “You’ve perfectly destroyed a bishop’s death curse.”

“It wasn’t my strength—it was Brave’s,” Leon said, holding up the hilt of what used to be a longsword. “It was your father’s gift to me that saved this kingdom. A treasured sword worthy of raising Jugend’s name high—so fine even the Holy King Rodrick would have to admit defeat.”

“Hearing you say that truly pleases me,” Irexana said with a calm voice, but soon wavered slightly. “My father always said he wanted to humble the King at least once before he died. I’m sure your words would have delighted him.”

Perhaps recalling old memories, he clasped his hands for a moment before his expression shifted. Pleasantries were fine, but there was still unfinished business.

Looking at Leon, he continued.

“The one who loosed the monsters from the Mirror Canyon and spread corruption in the Great Vein was Despair. But the ones who purchased the cursed swords and are now fleeing are Chaos. In the worst case, they may have already crossed the border.”

The pursuit force was not particularly strong since most of the firepower had been focused on the Great Vein assault. If the ones they were chasing were members of Chaos, skilled in deceit and evasion, they could all slip away, and the result would be a bloodbath across the continent.

At that thought, Leon had an idea.

“Your Eminence, please wait a moment.”

“Yes?”

Leon gripped the Holy Sword’s hilt, and El-Cid immediately projected a map of the continent into the air. It was marked with various colored symbols.

Scanning near the border of Jugend, Leon found what he expected: a single yellow mark moving—Chaos transporting over a hundred cursed swords.

Too late. Even if we chased them by airship now, it’d take a full day—they’d have crossed the border by then.

Following the mark with a tense expression, Leon suddenly spotted another, unexpected mark. Rather than asking how, he simply accepted it. He hadn’t known why she was delayed before, but now it made perfect sense.

“I think we can rest easy, Your Eminence.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you see the yellow mark by the border—and the golden hammer mark blocking its path?”

“Yes, what is that...?”

When Leon explained, Irexana also let out a sigh of relief and smiled. The Chaos had sealed their fate by leaping out of the pan straight into the fire.

***

At the borderlands of the Kingdom of Jugend, on the outskirts of Area 13, a single carriage raced forward without restraint. It bore no flag, no crest—nothing but suspicion.

And that wasn’t all. The horses pulling it had eyes dyed a deep, bloody red, flecks of foam at their mouths as their hooves pounded the earth in a frenzy. They were unmistakably under the influence of Berserk.

A man sitting on the driver’s bench shouted raucously, “Wahahahaha! Run! Faster, faster!”

“Yeah! Run yourselves to death!” the one next to him added.

Madmen—there was no other word for them. They had hair dyed in mismatched colors, eyes out of focus, and clothes with no consistency whatsoever. In the slums, they would have been immediately taken for drug addicts.

These were followers of the third sect of the Evil Order, Chaos. Lunatics shunned even within Evil.

“Hey, friend!”

“What is it, friend?”

The two lunatics spoke in turn like they were playing a duet of nonsense.

“I’ve been thinking for a long time, you know—the brothers of Despair and Destruction are way too wasteful. Don’t you think so?”

“Oh! So, it wasn’t just me!”

“Right? I’m right, aren’t I? Aren’t I, horses? You guys say something too! I’ll give you a carrot as a reward!”

Of course, horses didn’t speak. So, the two kept rambling with unhinged enthusiasm.

“This world is our toy chest! But our brothers don’t enjoy it—they just pour it all out like water! And this time’s the same—what if Jugend collapses all at once?”

“Exactly! Where else would we find a toy as fun as Jugend?”

“And I hate how they let the spider loose where no one can see it! Why hide the surprise gift so deep?”

“We wouldn’t do that, would we, friend?”

“Of course not, friend!”

Fired up by his companion’s agreement, one of the madmen shouted, “Let’s head for the desert!”

“The desert? But it’s hot there!”

“It is! It’s hot enough to roast you alive! Which makes it even better! Let’s gift those toys to the people there! To the ones waiting for war!”

The western continent was already a vortex of conflict between native nomads, beastkin tribes, and countless other tangled disputes. If over a hundred cursed swords spread across that chaotic land, the taut strings of tension would snap, and those who had been holding back would lose their last bit of restraint and follow the scent of blood.

A mountain of corpses, a sea of blood. If war piled bodies into hills and turned spilled blood into rivers, their goal would be more than achieved.

“The Empire’s Mad Emperor is fine too, but there are other brothers around him! If we get close, they’ll just tell us to get lost again!”

“You’re right, friend! To the desert we go!”

“I knew you’d get me, friend!”

As the lunatics embraced each other in noisy delight, the sun shone on them as always. Or perhaps, something was different this time.

“Huh?”

One of the madmen tilted his head. The carriage hadn’t slowed or swerved once so far. So, if there was someone standing directly in its path, it was impossible not to notice them.

There she stood, on a road with little room to sidestep—a saintess, dressed neatly in black holy robes, hands clasped together.

“Deus Lo Vult.”

With those three words of prayer, a tremendous wave of light erupted from the Holy Iron Breaker. The strongest Holy Law of the Holy Church left no room to block or dodge. The followers of Chaos abandoned the carriage a beat too late, and even their evasive paths were still within the light’s reach.

One second later, the light of judgment faded, and a voice spoke.

“I am the merciless mace, the one who cleanses the filth from all the Goddess gazes upon. Before a single swing, I contemplate tenfold, and with not a speck of shame, I look up to the heavens.”

Now fully armored, Elahan finished a brief prayer of repentance with her hands still clasped.

“May You look kindly upon this judgment, merciful Goddess.”

She looked forward, gripping her Holy Iron Breaker once again. The carriage, the cultists, the weapons steeped in malice—all erased by her strike—were of no concern. They weren’t worth remembering even for a moment.

She stepped forward a few paces, breathing in the air purified by divine power. Elahan knelt on one knee before the collapsed horses.

“Poor things...”

With the cultists’ deaths, the Berserk had been lifted. Unfortunately, it was too late. There were states even healing miracles could not fix.

“At least I can ease your pain. Rest in peace.”

She stroked each of the four horses in turn, letting Holy Power flow until their hearts stopped.

Soon, the creatures stopped their trembling spasms of agony. Animals could not speak, yet Elahan felt their gratitude in the depths of their eyes. After personally closing the lids of the last one, she rose to her feet.

The helm of the holy armor tilted back, letting her silver hair spill free. Elahan suddenly planted her Holy Iron Breaker into the ground, then clasped her hands together.

“O, Goddess, please guide my path.”

At once, the Holy Iron Breaker toppled in a single direction, and her gaze followed toward the heart of the Kingdom of Jugend. It was Area 1.

“At last...!”

A deep expression of emotion lit her face as she bounced on her heels. The revelation had come out of nowhere one night, and she had waited here at this barren crossroads for night after night.

Her desire to meet the hero never stopped advancing toward him, but since the Goddess had commanded her to remain here, she could do nothing else. The result was that she had just prevented a catastrophe that would have plunged the entire continent into a storm of blood.

“Though I don’t appreciate feeling like I’m stuck with cleanup duty.”

Pouting, Elahan dismissed her armor, letting her black holy robes fall naturally around her once more. Now, there was no reason to delay her steps. Her golden eyes reflected the light in a sharp flash.

“But from here on... I’ll be able to fight alongside the hero, right?”

With the clear gaze of a child, she bent her knees and kicked off the ground with all her strength. The earth shattered like a brittle cracker.

In a single leap, the saintess broke the sound barrier, leaving a cloud of dust behind as she charged toward Area 1. Anyone who saw her now would doubt their own eyes.

The meeting between Leon and Elahan was not far off.