Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 12

“Mind if I sit here?” Chloe asked.

“Do whatever you want,” Leon replied.

With Leon’s permission, Chloe sat beside him. They were just about a hand’s width apart, a distance that made them feel familiar yet strangely distant.

He couldn’t remember the last time they’d sat like this. What used to feel so natural no longer did, and that realization left a bitter taste in his mouth. Perhaps it was regret.

The inferiority and jealousy that had once dominated him were long gone, leaving behind only faint embers. It was only now, sitting beside Chloe, that Leon realized that.

So that’s what it is. Leon thought as he finally understood his emotions for Chloe.

It wasn’t that he’d come to dislike her. His feelings had simply cooled. What remained was the affection of a friend who had shared many years with him. Only now could Leon finally say he was truly Chloe’s friend.

He spoke, a bit more gently than before, “What’s up, Chloe? You should be in your alchemy class, no? Don’t tell me you skipped.”

Chloe blinked in surprise, but it probably wasn’t just because of what he said. She must have sensed the shift in his tone—how different he sounded compared to before. She paused for a moment, then smiled like always.

““What? Are you stupid? If I skip even once, I lose my scholarship. You think I’d ditch just to see your face?”

“Oh? Then what are you doing here?”

“The alchemy instructor is sick, so class was canceled. And when I heard you were discharged, I thought I’d come find you. Looks like you’re all healed, walking around without crutches.”

Leon nodded and replied, “Still, just in case, I’m gonna rest another three or four days. I’m ahead on the curriculum anyway, so it shouldn’t hurt my grades.”

To that, Chloe said with a light hmph, “You never listened when I told you to take it easy.”

Leon, looking at the pouting Chloe whose advice he had ignored for years, scratched his head sheepishly, leaving behind a curious silence.

If there was one thing that had changed, it was the fact that this silence was warm, unlike before. Leon blinked slowly, letting himself rest in that feeling.

So this is how I used to talk.

He had forgotten. All that was left had been his stubborn refusal to give up—cutting himself open and bleeding, cursing the world for not rewarding his blood, sweat, and tears.

Was what he felt for Chloe really love? Or was it more of a jealousy for someone like Lyon? Consumed by the pain of truly believing that he was nothing special, he had tried to find salvation in self-inflicted wounds.

And then, it was a sword who heard his cries.

—You’re the one who called me, Leon.

And that sword offered him a chance to defy an unfair fate.

—Then I shall grant you the chance to prove it.

The holy sword, El-Cid: the sharp-tongued weapon housing the soul of a flawed hero, etched into the back of Leon’s left hand as a sigil. Because of El-Cid, Leon was pulled out from a bottomless pit and was able to take his first step in years.

If a hero was one who saved the world, then it was El-Cid who saved that hero. Leon felt a sudden surge of gratitude.

Yeah. I’ll become a Hero. He muttered inwardly. Anyone could say the words, but Leon meant it.

He would become more than just worthy of El-Cid. He would surpass every expectation. A Hero worthy of the sword—no, one who would raise its name even higher.

Leon’s eyes briefly flashed gold. For the tiniest moment—too fast for even Chloe to notice—they burned as brightly as the sun.

—W-wait, what?! Why are you leveling up all of a sudden?!

Even El-Cid, speaking in a way Leon couldn’t hear, was flustered as he scrambled to figure it out.

Born perfect, El-Cid couldn’t understand how simply steeling one’s heart could push a human to take an immense step forward. Leon’s will, which was already rock solid, had now reached near-superhuman heights, though neither he nor Chloe noticed the change.

Chloe just smiled playfully and said, “Oh! Speaking of—have you heard the rumors going around about you? They’re amazing.”

“I just got out of the infirmary. How would I have? Oh, is that why people have been buzzing around me?”

“Probably.”

Leon gave a small nod, motioning with his chin for her to go on. They’d known each other long enough for her to know he didn’t like dragging things out.

Busted, Chloe gave a sheepish grin and said, “There’s more than a few, so it’ll take a minute.”

Leon’s brows furrowed as she listed out the rumors one by one. He had expected some exaggerations but this—this was beyond absurd.

A wandering swordmaster taking him in as a disciple? Being secretly raised as a royal weapon by the crown? Some of it was so ridiculous it was borderline treasonous.

Some rumors were just silly, some made him marvel at human imagination, and some made him question the intelligence of the students spreading them.

Actually, there was one that was surprisingly closer to the truth.

I picked up a cursed sword behind the mountain, huh. How the hell did they guess that?

—Hey, I said I’m not a cursed sword, you brat.

Leon ignored the sword’s protest and smirked.

Despite all the rumors, no one had said a word about the holy sword. That alone proved how much power and weight the words “Holy Sword” carried.

The scriptures said, “He who is chosen by the holy sword shall become the savior of the world.”

It was never something to joke about, and even the most immature students were careful with it. That was the weight Leon now carried.

But I can handle it.

El-Cid had chosen him. And that belief—more than anything—was proof.

Leon no longer wavered, and answering someone’s trust was one of the Hero’s virtues. Unknowingly, he had already taken his first step.

Chloe, watching his expression, smiled and commented, “You really have changed.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got a better look now. Not anxious or restless—just calm, like you’re looking far ahead. Kinda like Lyon, but not the same... maybe it’s the difference between someone who looks up and someone who looks forward?” She murmured something about how it was a bit of a shame as she stood up.

Seemed like her next class was about to start. For someone who had never missed out on a scholarship, skipping class was unthinkable. She turned to him once more as if there was something left to say.

“Leon,” she called, and their eyes met.

One pair was a warm brown, while the other was a cool blue—not alike in the slightest.

Chloe opened her mouth as if to say something, then stopped. Instead, she said something that didn’t feel that important at all.

“Even just once in a while is fine—would you talk to Lyon? It didn’t seem like there’s anyone else in that class he really gets along with.”

Leon nodded casually, like it wasn’t a big deal, and said, “I’ll try.”

“Thanks. See you next time.”

One stayed behind, the other walked away. Leon watched Chloe’s figure as she faded into the distance and muttered the words he’d held back until now.

“I can’t do anything about something that was never possible to begin with.”

He felt bad, but he couldn’t grant that request. After the final duel, he intended to leave Lyon—and the Academy—behind. They might meet again someday, but by then, Lyon would surely have made a friend or two of his own.

With that thought, Leon stood up. This was supposed to be an outing for his rehab program for his injury, anyway. If he wanted to face Lyon as soon as possible, he needed to get his left thigh back to full strength.

Soon, Lyon!

No longer weighed down by inferiority, Leon’s eyes now burned with a competitive spirit. With a healthy resolve in his step, he clenched his fists and looked ahead to the battle to come.

Their names matched, their birthdays matched, and now, even fate had chosen to cross their paths. The day of their first true showdown was drawing near.

***

The wooden sword failed to withstand the strain of sudden acceleration and split with a sharp crack as it cut through empty air. However, neither Leon nor El-Cid looked surprised. They’d expected this outcome—it was a deliberate test of a new technique.

—So even a fresh wooden sword can’t handle one full strike, huh? No matter the mastery, this move puts too much strain on the weapon. And since practice swords are usually weaker than real ones, we’ll have to be careful.

“One clean hit is all I need,” Leon said firmly, massaging his stiff wrist.

A trump card was meant to be shown only once. Especially against a genius like Lyon—using the same move multiple times would only invite a counterattack.

To win this time, he would need more than raw skill—he would have to read his opponent’s very thoughts. The stat window of Lyon he had seen a few days ago still haunted him.

Name: Lyon

Title & Class: Swordsman (with nothing but talent and bloodline)

Level: 25

Strength: 140 (D)

Endurance: 122 (D)

Agility: 141 (D)

Aura: 253 (C)

Skills: Sword Mastery I (MAX), Sword Mastery II (5), Secret Sword Technique ??? (4), Blinkstep (2), Aura Wielder II (1), Innate Martial Root (2)

Leon couldn’t make sense of half of what was listed, but El-Cid’s explanation was enough to make him flinch.

“Sword Mastery II” was swordsmanship based on Aura manipulation. “Blinkstep” was a special movement technique that produced a burst of speed similar to “Accel.” As for “Innate Martial Root,” there wasn’t much to explain—unlike Leon, whose body had to be modified by El-Cid, Lyon had simply been born with a martial artist’s body.

That alone was impressive, but “Aura Wielder II” was on another level entirely.

“You’re telling me Lyon can use Sword Aura?!” Leon asked in shock.

—Yeah, though at level 1 it’s probably just a faint mist. But he’s still reached the level where Aura can manifest beyond the body.

“That’s already stronger than most instructors!”

Leon wasn’t wrong. Aside from veterans like Instructor Helmut, most academy staff were roughly on par with senior knights. Taking his secret sword technique and Blinkstep into account, most instructors wouldn’t be able to guarantee victory against Lyon in a one-on-one match.

It was simply absurd. While most talented knights only reached this stage in their thirties, Lyon hadn’t even come of age yet. Leon would be facing him with Aura locked away, so it wouldn’t be quite that one-sided, but even Lyon’s base stats and Blinkstep alone were a staggering gap.

“I’m weaker in strength and speed, but my endurance is slightly higher... And that Blinkstep—being a physical technique, I bet it’s like Accel and takes a toll on the body, right?”

—Of course. That kind of move usually interferes with blood flow and the neuromuscular system. The trade-off is endurance. The body moves fast, but your breath can’t keep up. You tire out quick.

“Oho!”

It was useful advice. With that, Leon started forming his strategy for the duel. Lyon would be a formidable opponent—but not an unbeatable one.

Compared to Elmont using Aura, Lyon would only be slightly stronger. Granted, if Lyon did use Aura, the fight wouldn’t even be fair to begin with.

That thought gave Leon pause. He decided to ask El-Cid a question, not out of fear but from genuine curiosity.

“El-Cid? Hypothetically, I mean, really hypothetically... If I lose to Lyon, what then?”

—Hm.

El-Cid didn’t answer right away.

Leon, of course, asked because of the possibility of him becoming Lyon’s retainer after the match. Could the Hero—meant to save the world—truly serve under someone else? Only the Holy Sword El-Cid could answer that question, but the answer he gave was unexpected.

—I won’t tell you.

“Why not...?” 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

For once, El-Cid sounded serious. He added, —This is a test. I told you from the start: your trials will be greater than the opportunities.

“Bit harsh for a first test.”

—This duel could be a turning point in your destiny. If you defeat Lyon, I’ll explain everything. And when I do, you’ll understand.

Leon took his words to heart. El-Cid had teased him, tormented him—but never once lied when it mattered. There must be a reason why Leon couldn’t know yet. Something that would shake his resolve if he did.

So Leon said no more and raised a fresh training sword. He still had too many weaknesses to face Lyon. The dull thud of splintering wood rang out, again and again, long into the night.