Hard Carried by My Sword

Chapter 262

I figured there would be more elf believers, but I didn’t think there’d be a Cardinal like Bishop Caesare, Leon thought.

Elves. Even if someone had never seen one in person, they had most likely heard of them.

They were a long-eared, long-lived race known for their beauty, their harmony with the natural world, and their affinity for spirits. They were far more adept with bows than blades, and their innate talent in spiritual arts meant each individual elf possessed potential that vastly outstripped humans.

Despite being few in number, they had never fallen under another race’s dominion, not even during the age when beastkin were enslaved. Alongside the dwarves, they were counted as the foremost of the demi-human races, although unlike the industrious, sociable dwarves, elves were famously insular and preferred to keep to their own tribes.

Startled by his sharp tone, Karen retreated a step and apologized. “N-no, that’s not what I meant! I just never imagined a cardinal would be an elf. My apologies if I offended you!”

William tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as if he saw something, and said, “A half-blood, huh. Dark Elf?”

“H-how did you...?!”

“No need to be alarmed. The spirits’ reaction gave it away, that’s all.”

Karen’s expression darkened, and Leon instinctively stepped forward, placing himself between her and the cardinal. He met the man’s gaze head-on, his eyes hardening.

Whatever elves think of Dark Elves, I’m not letting him bring down Karen.

Elves were praised as guardians of the forest, protectors of nature, and their beauty alone often skewed public opinion in their favor. Of course, that beauty also made them targets of slave traders, wicked nobles, and anyone who profited from the exotic, but that was a different story.

Dark Elves, on the other hand, were treated very differently. Due to their dusky skin, affinity for stealth, and nocturnal habits that aligned them with shadows, many regarded them with suspicion.

“Heh.” William glanced between the two of them, then let out a brief laugh as he raised both hands in placation. “My bad. It seems I’ve given the wrong impression. I don’t dislike Dark Elves. If anything, I pity the prejudice and hardship they must endure from childhood. I’d never align myself with the narrow-minded fools who shun them.”

“Prejudice...?” Karen murmured.

William explained, “Of course. Elves like me may be creatures of the day, but Dark Elves are simply closer to the night. Day and night are both parts of the natural cycle. Condemning one while praising the other makes no sense.”

It was an answer steeped in a cardinal’s composure and breadth of mind. Karen finally relaxed, slipping out from behind Leon to stand with the others. Then, William’s gaze shifted to Leon.

“If you’re traveling with the Saintess, then you must be the Hero. Correct?” he asked.

“Yes. My name is Leon.”

“Then the last person must be... Hmm!”

His voice cracked mid-sentence as he suddenly looked past Leon, past the others, toward Albion and Rodlin. His eyes widened so sharply they almost seemed ready to burst.

In the next instant, William strode forward and fell to one knee before Albion. Kneeling on both knees was reserved only for the Goddess herself, but one knee? That was the highest gesture of respect the Holy Church could offer to a being of the world. For an elf, the sight of a dragon was overwhelming.

“William Artur of the World Tree’s lineage pays respects to the Attuner.”

“A High Elf, I see. To discern my true nature through this diminished form... Your cultivation is impressive,” Albion said.

“I am unworthy of such praise,” he answered, bowing his head.

He hesitated, then asked, “I heard a single Attuner still lived, but I never imagined you would come to a place as foul as this.”

“I thought the same. If not for my tie to the previous Hero, I wouldn’t have set foot anywhere near this place.”

“The Holy King himself... I see. I understand.”

Whatever conclusion he reached from that brief exchange, William asked nothing more. He rose and turned to Leon’s group. It was time to hear why they had come all the way to the Nether Valley.

“I will hear your explanation,” William said, and as expected, Leon stepped forward to speak.

***

It took Leon dozens of minutes to go through everything that had happened until this point.

With all that’s taken place—the armies gathering at the Clyde Empire, the Evil Order’s web of schemes laid across the continent, the massacre in Calelum, the Death King’s descent, and the information gleaned from his dying words—it took time to recount it all.

William listened in silence, expressionless yet unable to hide the faint tension in his clenched hands. When Leon finally finished, William let out a slow, heavy breath.

“A grave matter indeed. I sensed troubling signs in Clyde, but I didn’t expect it to escalate into such a catastrophe.” He shook his head and continued, “For the next thirty years, Clyde and its neighboring nations will be in constant friction. With the empire wounded both within and without, even its borders will recede.”

When a great empire weakens, all who’d been crushed under its heel rise. Leon thought of Lyon and the chaos he narrowly avoided after taking the imperial throne, which could have resulted in a full implosion of the nation.

Even so, centuries of conquest had accrued hatred no ruler could fully erase. Clyde’s losses in manpower meant they would be forced to withdraw, consolidate, and wait for a distant future to rebuild.

“And for the Archbishop of the Evil Order to be an Attuner... what a tragedy. The noblest guardians of this world, betraying that very duty.”

To elves, who believed in natural guardianship, dragons were sacred. Seeing one fall so far was devastating.

Albion exhaled through her nose and said, “No need to hold back. That creature is no longer my kin.”

“My apologies.” Bowing again, William turned to Leon. “So, you said you came to the Nether Valley to train.”

“Yes.”

“In that case, let me share what experience has taught me. If you know too much going in, the training loses its meaning, so I’ll give you only the essentials and the things you must not be ignorant of.”

“Thank you.”

William had gone in and out of the Nether Valley dozens of times. His accumulated time inside easily measured in years. His guidance was invaluable. Leon listened intently.

There’s a reason this place is one of the Four Great Demon Realms... Leon thought after listening to William’s brief.

It was a land where the living and the dead coexist on equal footing. That might sound paradisiacal to someone unfamiliar with the truth, but the meaning was literal. This place was neither alive nor dead.

In the mists of the Nether Valley, the warmth drained from the living. Bodily functions slowed, and hunger and thirst faded away. Even without breathing or eating, one could still move... for a time. Stay too long, however, and they would become something that could no longer survive outside the mist. A half-dead creature whose flesh would rot while still attached to a living soul.

William explained, “If you cloak yourself in Aura, that corruption won’t affect you, but the creatures of the Nether Valley sense anything that resists the mist. The mist itself is like a sentry.”

“Is there something we should be especially careful of?” Leon asked.

“If I must choose one thing: all creatures in the Nether Valley are undead in the truest sense. Split them in two, grind them to paste, it doesn’t matter. They’ll regenerate. Only the Holy Sword can fully annihilate them. Even combining sacred spells with an Aura Blade only shaved away at their existence. Destroying them outright is impossible.”

William tapped his bow lightly and added, “You can drag them outside the mist, where they’ll crumble to dust in seconds. But go deep enough, and that’s no longer an option.”

Leon bowed and said, “Thank you for your advice, Your Eminence.”

“No thanks needed. I only fulfill my duty.”

After that warmthless reply, William glanced at Karen and Elahan. “You plan on bringing your companions with you, Hero?”

“If the experience can help them grow, then yes.”

“Is that so.” William closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about something, then spoke again. “If you don’t mind, would you allow me to teach the other two?”

“Teach them yourself, Your Eminence?”

It was a proposal none of them had expected. Karen and Elahan’s eyes flew wide open. Leon was less surprised by the offer itself and more curious about what William could teach them. As if reading that question, William continued.

“You came here purely to hone your martial skills, so I can’t help you with that. But the others are different.”

“What do you intend to teach them?” Leon asked.

“The half-blood girl should learn to communicate with spirits. As for the Saintess, she’s still inexperienced in her understanding and use of sacred spells. Fixing that will greatly help when they face the Archbishop.”

Karen jolted upright and asked, “M-me? I can use spirit arts?”

William answered, “Dark Elves are elves, too. You may not resonate with pure elemental spirits, but you should have more than enough innate affinity.”

“Wow!”

Next to her, Elahan mumbled gloomily, “So I’m still very lacking... I need to train harder.”

Seeing how delighted they both looked, Leon found no reason to oppose it and nodded.

If the Nether Valley was as William described, then, unlike Leon—who had the Holy Sword—Karen and Elahan would be put at a massive disadvantage. The monsters in this place were undead; poison and vital points meant nothing, and sacred spells alone couldn’t stop them from regenerating. Eventually, the fight would turn into an endless war of attrition.

“Albion, would you stay with them as well?” Leon asked.

“I intended to.”

She would be severely weakened inside the Nether Valley. Bringing her along would only endanger her. Albion knew that well enough, so she accepted Leon’s words as a convenient excuse to sit and watch over the two trainees.

Then Leon turned to Rodlin, who was quietly awaiting his command, and asked, “What about you? What do you want to do?”

Rodlin tilted her head and answered, “I do not understand the meaning of the question.”

“Hm?”

“If Master orders me to accompany you, I will accompany you. If Master orders me to remain here, I will remain. My decisions are made independently of free will. They are whatever Master commands.”

It was not a human way of thinking, and only now did Leon truly grasp that this small, adorable girl was nothing like a human being. She possessed a dragon-crafted ego, intellect, and abilities far superior to most people, yet she did not choose her own actions.

Rodlin was a golem that obeyed the one it recognized as its master. That was its sole, absolute principle.

“Well, the mist of the Nether Valley shouldn’t be a problem for you, right?” Leon asked.

“The corruption of the mist cannot harm even the outer layer of my core body. And if I equip my armor, I can guarantee perfect defense even within the deeper zones.”

Leon accepted her reasoning and looked toward the Nether Valley. There was no time left to waste.

The Archbishop had begun to move after centuries of dormancy, and the consequences would be catastrophic. Leon needed to reach the minimum qualifications required of a Hero, and quickly.

“You intend to depart right away?” William asked.

“Yes,” Leon answered without turning around.

The others fell silent. Feeling their gazes on his back, he stepped forward. The old, familiar chill of solitude crept up on him, but the quiet presence following behind and the weight of the Holy Sword at his hip calmed his heart.

“I’ll be back.”

Leaving those words to Karen and Elahan, Leon crossed into the boundary of the Nether Valley. And the moment he did, El-Cid beat him to what he was thinking.

—Gwaaaeek! What is that stench?!

El-Cid’s scream nearly stole the breath from Leon’s lungs. He instantly shut off his sense of smell. If he hadn’t, the bile rising into his throat would’ve burst out. The instant he stepped into the mist, a nauseating, rot-saturated odor clawed up his nasal passage.

—Smells like someone dunked a rag in shit water for a week and half-dried it!

Do you have to describe it like that...? You’re making me feel worse.

Leon waved a hand, igniting a plume of flame from his palm. The fire burned away the mist in front of them, clearing his line of sight.

Seeing that, Rodlin tugged lightly at his sleeve and asked, “Master, shall I secure visibility?”

“Huh? Ah, yes, please.”

“Understood. Manifesting Fire Wave. Removing obstructive mist along the route.”

She stepped forward and raised her small hand. A fourth-tier fire spell burst forth without even a chant. Magic designed by dragons ignored the frameworks of modern sorcery. A storm of fire tore across fifty meters, sweeping aside the stagnant, foul air and exposing the terrain ahead, but it only lasted for a moment.

“Looks like it doesn’t work...”

Rodlin explained, “The domain’s self-recovery ability appears to be regenerating the mist. Fundamental destruction seems impossible under current conditions.”

The fog reformed instantly, burying everything in a gray blur. Even with Aura in his eyes, Leon couldn’t pierce it. Only after activating the Stigma of the Observer could he see the outline of the corrupted forest, and even then, his vision was limited to about a hundred meters.

“They’re coming. Quite the warm welcome,” Leon said.

“Shall I engage?”

“No. Until I give the order, focus on self-defence.”

Rodlin obeyed immediately, stepping back and deploying Exile Barrier. No creature near the outer rim of the Nether Valley could break that spell.

Leon drew the Holy Sword. Even the damp air seemed to split with a crisp srrrng.

“El-Cid.”

—Yeah. First assignment. From here on, you may not use Aura Blade, Aura Weapon, or any technique that emits Aura outside the sword. All such skills are forbidden.

“What...?”

—Your Sun Sword and Grand Chariot are too powerful and too convenient. They gather light and heat to form a blade, extending your reach and multiplying your power. Because of that, your fundamental swordsmanship has begun to dull.

Leon blinked in disbelief, but El-Cid continued mercilessly. —For a warrior, the distance between oneself and their enemy determines life or death. It’s your world’s edge. In this Nether Valley, you will rebuild that from the ground up.

“So you want me to handle everything with pure swordsmanship?”

—Exactly. Simple, isn’t it?

El-Cid gave a mischievous chuckle. —Think of it as a warm-up. Let’s start by cutting down a thousand of them, then move on to the next lesson.