Hard Carried by My Sword

Chapter 261

The very next day, after finishing his explanation about William, Irexana went straight back into the palace, and Leon’s party did a quick round of reorganizing before gathering information on Nether Valley ahead of their departure.

Though it was one of the infamous Four Great Demon Realms, the Nether Valley was far less well-known than the other three. It was a secretive, terrifying land.

Even the name sounded ominous. A deep, sunless place, like the underworld feared by the living made real—that was the demon realm known as Nether Valley.

“Albion, do you know the Nether Valley well?” Leon asked.

Albion shook her head. “No. That demon realm provokes a visceral, physiological disgust in dragons. All demon realms do, but Nether Valley is particularly bad. Walking into it of your own will is no different from stepping into a damp, rotting bog.”

“Visceral... disgust?” The others just blinked, and Albion realized she needed to elaborate.

“For a dragon, the natural order is as close to us as breathing. When we approach a place where that order is distorted, we feel repulsed. Normally, we would ‘attune’ it, correcting the warped points, but demon realms are places even the gods hesitate to touch. The wisest course is not to approach at all.”

“But... Britra’s been forcing them open and walking through them, hasn’t he?” Leon said.

“As creation is several times harder than destruction, so it is with attuning. It’s easier and more efficient to amplify distortions than to calm them,” Albion replied.

It made sense. Unless one was a being on the level of immortality—a higher-order concept—the balance between destruction and restoration always tipped toward destruction.

Once Leon’s group nodded in understanding, Albion let out a long sigh. “In truth, I would rather not come along either. But in this situation, I can’t act selfishly. Hero Leon, did the Irexana kid say anything about your means of travel?”

“Um... no, nothing specific,” Leon answered.

“I thought as much,” Albion muttered. “His head’s gotten big enough that he’s starting to work me like a mule. That beanpole used to be adorable enough when he was little.”

Though it sat somewhat south of the Clyde Empire, Jugend was still a long way from the southern tip of the continent. The fact that there was no real preparation despite time being so precious meant only one thing.

“We have no choice. I suppose I’ll stretch a bit.” Albion walked a few steps forward to the middle of an open space. “Gather around me. If any of you stray too far and end up being left behind, I won’t be responsible.”

“Wait, you mean...?!” Leon muttered.

“Yes. I’m going to use multi-target spatial transfer.”

Normally, it was classified as an eighth-tier spatial spell, with such absurd mana cost that humans could not use it. Hurling not just one person but an entire group across space itself was no light work.

“Calm your Auras, and Saintess, shut down your Holy Weapons. Even a tiny variable can cause a serious problem. And Rodlin, bring your output down to the bare minimum.”

“Understood.”

While Leon and his companions followed the instruction immediately, Rodlin just turned toward Leon. Now that Albion was no longer her master, she needed Leon’s authorization.

“Master Leon, your orders, please,” she requested.

“Huh? Ah, right. Do as Albion says.”

“Understood. Reducing core output to five percent of normal and maintaining that level until we reach our destination.”

Leon, Elahan, Karen, and Rodlin closed in around Albion at the center. At the same time, a colossal magic circle bloomed beneath their feet. Dragon magic required no chant; mana moved in accordance with their will.

Hundreds of lines of power shot outward at incredible speed, weaving themselves into a geometric pattern. An eighth-tier magic circle was complete in barely ten seconds.

“Hold your breath. It’ll be over in a few seconds,” Albion said.

The moment the three of them stopped breathing, light erupted from below, swallowing them and yanking them into a world that was not three-dimensional. It was a world line beyond the understanding of even those who had devoted their lives to dimensional studies and arcane theory, of which even a tenth could not be grasped.

In a place where space-time flowed like water, where there was no border between matter and the immaterial, only five fixed sets of coordinates were being shot toward somewhere. It happened in an instant, like wind, like lightning, like a shaft of light.

“Guh!”

Then, Leon realized his five senses were back. As if the recoil from being flung out of a world too alien even to recognize its absence had hit all at once, the others reacted similarly. Only Albion, who had cast the spatial magic, and Rodlin the golem stood there as calmly as ever.

“Where are we...? Is this Nether Valley, Albion?” Leon asked as he glanced around them.

The humidity and temperature of the air had changed completely. It was dry, and cool air flowed in from afar—a clear sign that they had crossed thousands of kilometers.

Even the flow of mana, unlike in Jugend, was eerily still. Was this the influence of a Great Demon Realm twisting the environment?

“Not yet,” Albion said. “The Four Great Demon Realms are so heavily warped at the dimensional boundary that spatial magic cannot penetrate them. So I set the destination to a point roughly ten kilometers from the edge of Nether Valley.”

“Ah, I see.”

“And also...” Albion’s face had gone somewhat pale. “That transfer drained my mana down to less than twenty percent. I can still fight at close quarters, but don’t expect much help from me once we’re inside the demon realm.”

“Of course. After all, this journey is for my growth,” Leon replied.

As he spoke, El-Cid whispered to him. For once, he’d had the decency not to make the sword hum loud enough for everyone to hear.

—Take good care of her.

Huh? This isn’t like you. Why the sudden sentimentality?

—Dragons have too much pride to show weakness in front of others. With her Dragon Heart down to less than half strength and her horn broken, she’ll barely be able to take care of herself in there.

Still... she’s a dragon. She’s stronger than all of us put together—

—Inside there, she’ll be weaker than a Sword Master. Did you think there was no reason the Four Great Demon Realms have never been fully cleared? Dragons can’t exercise their power properly in those places.

El-Cid went on. —Please. Because of me, she was left alone, living in isolation, and now I’ve dragged her back out into the world. This much is my responsibility.

All right, I get it. I’ll do what I can.

Leon nodded in understanding. It was the first time El-Cid had asked him for a favor like this, and he could feel the feelings he held for Albion in his tone. It wasn’t anything sweet like romance, but maybe their situation wasn’t as hopeless as it looked.

Once they’d shaken off the aftereffects of the transfer, the group began moving again toward Nether Valley. At the speed they were going, it was almost a sprint, but none of them showed any sign of strain.

Sometime later, Leon muttered, “Nether Valley... whoever named it got it spot on.”

Karen and Elahan silently agreed. With every step, they could feel it. Their sense of time stretched thin, the presence of life that ought to fill the world sank away, and the line between the living and the dead grew faint. In the black, rotting soil, not a single weed grew, and even the wind seemed to have dried up and died, leaving only a suffocating stillness.

Elahan let out a faint groan as she instinctively looked up at the sky. “O Goddess...”

It was a natural reaction. Up above, crows with all their feathers rotted away, nothing but bare bone wings and decaying flesh, floated silently in the air.

And if one looked closely at the ground, something writhed beneath the soil. Dried-out maggots and insect larvae, long dead, twitched as if they had forgotten they were corpses. As though sensing living beings, they dragged themselves slowly toward Leon and the others.

Even Albion, her expression hardened, muttered as she watched the edge of the demon realm looming close. “This is nauseating.”

On the shriveled bark of long-dead trees, pitch-black flowers bloomed, spreading the stench of rot. Their venom gathered the dead like puppets. One droplet on skin would burrow straight into the marrow—less a toxin and more a manifested curse, unlike the poisons Karen researched. A poison that turned life into death.

Before crossing the boundary, Leon glanced at Elahan. “Ella. We’re probably going to have to find the Second Cardinal somewhere inside. Do you know anything else about him?”

“Cardinal William? Hmm...”

Elahan held her chin with a helpless expression. Unlike when she spoke of Irexana or Adela, she didn’t look familiar with him at all.

“I don’t know him well. When I met him before, we exchanged only a few greetings, and that was it. Even when speaking with other cardinals, he rarely moved anything but his head. I guess... You could say he’s not very sociable.”

“So we basically have no clues...?” Karen said.

Finding one person in here would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Karen clicked her tongue, and Elahan apologized with a crestfallen look.

“I’m sorry. If I’d known it would come to this, I would’ve talked to him more...”

“Eh? No, no. Who could’ve possibly seen this coming? There’s no need for you to apologize.”

Leon reassured her quickly, but Elahan tightened her fists, determined to make up for her own shortcomings. She spread out the Holy Barrier again, and with clinks and clanks, a full set of armor formed around the strongest Saintess in history.

True to her reputation, the Holy Power pouring from her body cleansed the ground and air tainted by Nether Valley’s aura, returning the dead to the cycle of nature and breathing life back into the land.

“Hero Leon. Instead of us looking for him, what if he comes to us?” Elahan said with a smile.

“Comes to us? How?” Leon asked.

“Like this!” Elahan raised the Holy Iron Breaker high and shouted, “Divine Judgment!”

“W–wait!”

But none of them had time to stop her. At her command, the ashen sky split open. Heaven itself, where the Goddess resided, opened its radiance. The ultimate sacred spell activated.

Light rained down. Even from kilometers away, the glare was blinding; a holy brilliance that swept away all impurity.

As Divine Judgment expanded, the air around Nether Valley briefly returned to normal. Corpse crows fell and crumbled into dirt, and the black flowers withered into decayed leaves.

Anything born of the outer dimension could not withstand it even for a moment. Far stronger than its normal form, the Divine Judgment erased Nether Valley’s miasma, pushing back its boundary by dozens of meters.

She hadn’t aimed at anyone in particular, yet even Elahan didn’t expect this level of effect. Albion, feeling her dizziness and headache ease, spoke in gratitude.

“It’s quite a bit easier to breathe now. Thank you, staff of the Goddess.”

“Ah, of course! I’m glad!”

Elahan bowed modestly, unaware of what she had just done. Leon and Karen just stared, dumbfounded.

Why had she suddenly used Divine Judgment? And why was Albion thanking her? Only Rodlin remained composed, watching their surroundings with vigilance.

Then, Rodlin reported, “Unidentified heat source approaching. Speed exceeding Mach 3. The dominant energies are Aura and Holy Power. Estimated match for the individual Master is seeking.”

“What?”

“Entering visual range in five seconds. Master, caution.”

At Rodlin’s report, Leon, Karen, and Elahan immediately turned toward Nether Valley and readied their weapons. If Rodlin was right, it was likely William, but there was always a chance of an unexpected twist. Anything moving at triple the speed of sound was at least Master level, and letting their guard down against such an individual was not an option.

And then, something shot from beyond the horizon and fell toward them from the sky. If not for Rodrick’s Vision, Leon wouldn’t have caught it at all, but he managed to glimpse what the figure had ridden to reach them.

“An... Arrow...?”

It was longer and thicker than a normal arrow shaft, but it was unmistakably an arrow. Someone had ridden it all the way here. The three humans, the golem, and the dragon all stared at him. The air, warm thanks to Divine Judgment, seemed to annoy the stranger as he wrinkled his brow, then widened his eyes as he saw Elahan.

“The Saintess? Why are you here?”

At nearly the same moment, Karen blurted out in shock, “An elf?”

And she was right. His clothing was modified for practicality, but it still carried the distinct red tones of a mozzetta. His ears, different from humans, were long and pointed, unmistakably Elven. He was a member of the forestborn race.

At Karen’s words, his eyebrow twitched, and he replied curtly, “Yes, I’m an elf. First time seeing one?”

His voice carried clear irritation. His demeanor was utterly unlike any cardinal they had met before—enough that even Leon didn’t know how to approach him.

The Second Cardinal, William the Drifter. At last, the veil over his identity had been lifted.