Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 158

Unlike humans, the beastkin’s decision-making process was swift and simple. Debates for and against were settled immediately by majority vote, and if the opinions split evenly, a duel would decide which stance was eliminated.

That concise, if barbaric, method sometimes brought bad results, but it had one undeniable advantage: once deployment was decided, everything moved with lightning speed.

From Urakan, the first to actually put himself forth for the war, to the elites scattered across the plains, warriors began to gather as soon as the news spread. Not only the four tribes of the war faction, famed for their strength, but even the four tribes of the neutral faction—who had weighed profit and loss between both sides—stepped forward, unwilling to bear the disgrace of cowardice.

The representative of the neutral was Nagini, chieftain of the Naga Tribe, counted second in power and reputation only after Varg, the Beast King, and Urakan, the chieftain of the Tigris Tribe.

Varg divided the roles of the clans.

“Renard will handle supply and negotiations with the humans. Your charms will be of little use against monsters.”

The Renard chieftain, Chepei, replied in a lilting voice, “Really? How do we know that without trying?”

A voice like jade chimes, enough to melt the heart of any weak-minded listener. One phrase could make their knees buckle, two would sap their strength until they collapsed.

Varg, however, did not waver in the slightest.

“Chepei, you have yet to fight an exolaw wielder or an entity from another world. Their mental structures are utterly different from the life of this world. Unless it is a power that directly tears at the spirit, your techniques will have no effect.”

“Very well. If our king says so.”

Chepei smiled faintly and withdrew, showing no displeasure. Her pride had only been pricked by being relegated to the rear, nothing more. She had no desire for the Renard to stand at the vanguard and suffer needless losses—especially since, as Varg said, monsters summoned through exolaw were practically their natural enemies.

And indeed, it was true. Illusions that toyed with the senses, charms that manipulated likes and dislikes—none of it worked on beings from the other dimension. Their sensory organs and mental frameworks were too alien.

Someone had once said that pure violence would be the most effective. Varg recalled the words of one of the Hero’s companions, a woman who had declared herself the Saintess.

“The most effective force against exolaw is Holy Power. But since there are no churches or clergy on the plains, if it has a body, strike it with physical force. If it does not, strike it with Aura or battle qi. Monsters from beyond are nothing more than unpermitted invaders, and thus they are weak to the native powers of this world.”

Aside from the Evil Order themselves, no one surpassed the Holy Iron Inquisitors when it came to combating exolaw and outsiders. To destroy an enemy, one must know it. And so, the Holy Iron Inquisitors, whenever they found an exolaw wielder, would kill or capture them and painstakingly research how to most effectively break their powers.

What if they burned them? What if they drowned them? What if they cut them with blades or crushed them with hammers? Their “research” spanned centuries.

“Conversely, magic and sorcery won’t work well. Because these powers don’t obey this world’s laws, forces that distort those laws are inefficient. Secondary effects that cause physical phenomena might work, but not on beings without actual physical mass in this world.”

Hence, exolaw wielders were often ranked two tiers above sorcerers of equal skill. The difference in affinity was so stark that the fight was decided one-sidedly. That meant not only the charm-using Renard, but also the primitive-magic-using Naga, were poorly matched.

“The vanguard will be Tigris, Urus, and Taurus. Behind them, Centaurus, Lepus, Capri, and Harpy. The Naga will stay as far back as possible and focus on supporting the front.”

The tribes armed with raw strength and battle qi would take the lead, those a tier lower would form the second line, and shamans and magicians were to focus on protecting and supporting allies rather than striking directly. Some grumbled at the arrangement, but none dared defy Varg’s orders.

Having finished with the formation, Varg called out to his daughter.

“Hati.”

At his call, Hati stood respectfully.

“Yes, Father.”

“With Felis absent, there is no one to command the Bastet.”

“Huh...?”

“I leave it to you.”

The weight of that responsibility froze her in place.

The chieftains’ eyes went wide at the shocking declaration, but Varg was already glancing toward a corner of the hall. He already had everything planned out.

“Of course, it would be too much for my daughter alone. Could you lend her your aid?” he said to the woman standing in the corner.

“The Bastet, hm...”

Karen, seated beside Hati, smiled faintly and nodded.

“Fine. I was meaning to test them a little anyway.”

The Bastet prided themselves on their unique art—Shadow Art—but to Karen’s eyes, it was an uncut gem, still rough and far from complete. And since both Felis’s son and their elites had already been crushed by her once, imposing order upon them would be no trouble. Leon had left Karen behind for this very reason.

Which left only one question: Where had Leon and Elahan gone, leaving the Great Savannah behind? The answer was very simple.

***

With a rumble that shook the heart, a golden meteor tore across the sky with a roar that split the air. Twin trails of golden fire blazed from Leon’s back, accelerating him at a speed even wyverns could not match.

The output of his Icarus Wing, used for flight for the very first time, was far beyond imagination. Leon barely managed to speak against the rushing wind.

“T-this is way faster than I thought?!”

—About transonic speed, El-Cid advised calmly. —Break through the sound barrier and the shock will be considerable. Don’t go any faster just yet.

“Got it!”

Leon steadied himself, taking his master’s words to heart.

He was flying. A human, born without wings, was soaring freely through the skies. The liberation was an almost intoxicating thrill.

From above to below, from below to above. Unlike the ground, where his movements were bound, the sky allowed for three-dimensional maneuvers.

Only after flying himself did Leon truly understand why aerial monsters were so powerful. From mobility to tactical options, the difference granted by flight was staggering.

If I swing my sword like this... or unleash the Grand Chariot while diving from above...!

It would strike with an entirely different magnitude of power. Even in this first trial, ideas kept flowing, showing just how limitless the potential of the Icarus Wing truly was.

The wings weren’t just for flight, either. When he swept them once, a cloud split apart, heat and shockwaves tearing it asunder. And because they weren’t material, blocking them would be difficult.

The fact that they manifested from his back was also a bonus. For a swordsman, the blind spot behind him was now guarded by a force stronger than any blade strike.

—That said, that girl is unbelievable too. To keep pace with someone flying just by running? What on earth has the Holy Church done while I was gone?

Drawn by El-Cid’s words, Leon looked down and saw the massive cloud of dust trailing in the same direction he flew. It was Elahan, sprinting across the land.

Obstacles shattered before her body could even touch them; hills and slopes alike were flattened, the terrain turned into level ground by sheer force. She didn’t even need Footwork like Leon since the land itself bent to her path.

Leon’s jaw dropped at the terrifying sight as he muttered, “And to think, at first, I was worried she wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

They said once an Iron Inquisitor marked a heretic, they would pursue them to the ends of the continent until they severed their head. Looking at Elahan, Leon wondered if that rumor had been born from the deeds of Saintesses like her.

The two of them were heading swiftly toward the Great Desert. They had to deliver the decision of the beastkin council as quickly as possible.

If a large army moved without negotiation, the nomads might see it as a declaration of war. To prevent such a disaster, Leon and Elahan had left the plains, with only Karen staying behind.

“Even as a gold plaque adventurer, my words alone lack weight. But with Elahan alongside me, it’s a different matter.”

There was no need to reveal her status as the Saintess. If, as a Holy Iron Inquisitor, she issued a summons from the Grand Church, the Guild would be forced to take the matter seriously.

It would be tantamount to the Holy Church declaring its support. With both the Holy Church and the Guild behind them, even the Bedouin tribes would hesitate to provoke the beastkin.

“Hm...?”

Perhaps sensing his gaze, Elahan looked up from the ground and waved at him. Leon lowered his altitude in response. Still over the grasslands, there were few obstacles, so he could fly right beside her.

“Elahan? You called me?”

“Oh, no, nothing important.” Seeing him come closer, Elahan smiled brightly and asked, “Sacred, resplendent wings of light... they suit you so well, Hero Leon. May I touch them?”

“Huh? Uh... sure, I guess.”

“Excuse me, then.”

With his permission, she reached out. Keeping pace with Leon, it was simple for her to dip her hand into the golden flames trailing from his back. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

“Ah...!”

Elahan shuddered, her expression awash with awe. Unlike Aura or magical flame, the Icarus Wing was the manifestation of Leon’s inner self drawn outward. To those he did not recognize as enemies, it caused no harm.

Thus, she could stroke the golden wings without so much as singeing a hair. Longing for unreachable dreams, the unyielding resolve never to give up, the goodness that embraced even weakness in pursuit of becoming better—through the medium of the Stigmata, the essence of the Hero’s spirit flowed into her all at once.

Perhaps overwhelmed by the ecstasy, Elahan swayed and stumbled for the first time. She pitched forward, the world of grass and soil rushing up toward her face. Yet she felt little alarm.

Without even invoking her Holy Barrier, her pure defensive ability alone could withstand such an impact.

Ah, what disgrace, to fall like this before the Hero...!

It wasn’t pain she feared, only the shame of being covered in dirt before his eyes. Bracing herself for the imminent collision, she shifted to spring back up immediately.

However—

“Huh?”

She never struck the ground.

At some point, Leon had caught her hand and lifted her effortlessly into his arms, carrying her aloft as he flew. Elahan’s expression went blank, unable for a moment to comprehend what had happened.

She had seen this scene somewhere before. It reminded her of a scene from a fairy tale she’d read as a child—when the princess trapped in a tall tower was rescued—

“H-H-Hero Leon?!”

“Sorry, did I startle you? You were about to fall, and I grabbed you without thinking.”

“N-no, thank you. I’m very grateful, but that’s not the problem...”

Ellahan’s mental fortitude truly was remarkable. Having flawlessly completed all 128 forms of the Holy Church’s special training, her steel-like willpower helped her regain her composure in an instant. She quickly set her mind to work.

What should she say now? Should she admit this posture was a little embarrassing and ask him to put her down? No, absolutely not.

“Forgive me, Hero Leon. It seems I must have been a little tired.”

Lowering her voice as she pretended to wipe sweat from her brow, Elahan spoke. Leon, suspecting nothing, answered at once.

“Really? Then just rest like this. It won’t take long to reach Nuas anyway. I’ll carry you there.”

“I-I couldn’t possibly... it feels far too discourteous—”

“It’s fine, really.”

No matter how many times she declined, Leon kept insisting it was fine. At last, Elahan let herself relax and went limp, burying her face against his chest so he couldn’t see her expression.

It was the very first time that she, who had always moved forward with blunt honesty, had shown such a monumental flash of “flirting.”

“Hehe.”

Far from being tired, her spirit and body felt fuller than ever. Her rough breathing calmed until it was gentler than a whale’s slumber, and she gathered her sharpened senses, focusing wholly on the warmth of his body and the sound of his heartbeat just beyond.

The strategies and tactics she had studied as a saintess were hardly wasted. She wasn’t about to let slip this chance to be alone with Leon. Karen surely hadn’t foreseen this turn of events.

I’m sorry, Karen. But you’ve spent much longer with him than I have, haven’t you?

Two hours remained until they would reach Nuas. For Elahan, those hours were the most fulfilling she had ever known.

Unaware of her feelings, Leon, caught up in the joy of flight, beat his wings and said, “Elahan, looks like we’re almost there.”

“Already?”

Two hours had passed like two minutes. With a reluctant expression, she slipped out of his arms and leapt down to the ground beside him. Together they landed, their touchdown point precisely in front of the Guild’s Nuas branch.

Even though the ground was sand, it caved in with a heavy impact, sending up a plume of dust. Leon waved his hand once to clear the haze, and before more commotion could rise, he and Elahan entered the guild.

At the counter, a familiar face greeted them. It was Hans.

“Mr. Leon! You’re back already?”

For some reason, Hans looked very flustered, but the reason soon became clear. There was a heavy presence looming behind him, and its owner stepped into view as if nothing were amiss.

“It has been a while, overseer from the Guild.”

“You are...” Leon’s eyes widened at the unexpected figure, and he called the man’s name, “Zahar, warrior of the Bedouins?”

It was the very man who had narrowly lost his duel against Hati. One of the Bedouins’ great warriors stood before them now, still not fully recovered from his wounds.