Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 176

Having received the two scrolls from Al Razzaz and finishing all their business in the Great Desert, Leon’s group departed for Jugend the very next day. The Bedouins regretted not even holding a single feast for their benefactor, but they understood the urgency of his departure.

With Leon, Karen, and Elahan pressing on at full speed, they reached the western border of Jugend, Area 12, in less than a day. It was the same place from which an airship had carried them from Area 1 when they were first departing for the Great Desert.

“From here, we’ll take an airship,” Leon said as he revealed his identity at the checkpoint.

The reason was simple. Unlike the desert or the plains, which were nearly lawless, the Kingdom of Jugend was bristling with fortifications such as citadels, walls, and defenses. The watchtowers alone, fitted with long-range telescopes, could see impossibly far.

“If we travel as we are, Jugend’s defenses will surely issue a top-level alert. My Icarus Wings are too conspicuous, and Elahan’s method of moving is a little...”

“A little? Try extremely flashy,” Elahan admitted with a wry smile when she noticed Leon trailing off.

Of the three, only Karen could move silently. Her mastery of the Twilight Waltz of the Duskgloom’s Pitch-Black Dance had grown to the point where she could slip freely from shadow to shadow. Crossing space unseen, she could move without a sound, without even a breath.

She simply shrugged. “Well, then, no helping it.”

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long for an airship. Within hours of arriving at Area 12, a return flight came through. The journey back to Area 1 was also quick.

The steel-colored landscapes of Jugend blurred past as the airship crossed hundreds of kilometers in a straight line. In the sky, there were no obstacles—only white clouds scattering weakly as the ship cut its path.

By the time they descended, the sun that had been high at noon when they had departed Area 12 was sinking toward the western horizon. The three disembarked at the port, bathed in the twilight glow.

Then, all three widened their eyes at once at an unexpected greeting.

“Huh?”

Waiting for them was a man whose stature was unmistakable even from afar: Irexana.

He approached them calmly and gave a slight bow.

“It’s good to see you again. I’ve been waiting,” Irexana greeted.

Leon stammered, “Your Eminence... how did you...?”

“The moment you entered Area 12, I was informed. Airship schedules are always regular, so waiting for you was a simple job.” With a warm smile, Irexana looked straight at Leon and added, “And I have heard all of your deeds. You united two long-feuding peoples and struck down an ancient evil.”

“My strength alone wasn’t enough...” Leon answered bitterly.

Yes, the beastkin and the Bedouins had reconciled, and Nephren-Ka had been destroyed. However, it had taken miracle after miracle for him to achieve it. And every time he remembered those who had died in the crusade, the same thoughts crossed his mind.

If only I were stronger. If I could have cut down all enemies alone, like Rodrick once did. If I could have carved open the path with only the Holy Sword, without relying on others’ sacrifice.

“It’s all right,” Irexana consoled as he set a hand on his shoulder. “To look back, to recognize your shortcomings—that is well. But do not let regret stop your steps. Negative feelings are like mud. If you let them cling to you, they will harden and weigh you down.”

He told Leon to shake off that mud before it set. It was sorrow and pain, not joy, that made a man grow, but if he clutched suffering to his chest and sank down with it, he could never move forward. Rather than deny or soothe Leon’s regret, Irexana urged him to overcome it and keep walking.

“Whew... I must have burdened you with heavy words when you took time out of your busy schedule to welcome us. Thank you for your counsel, Your Eminence.”

“Think nothing of it. Hearing confessions is not a priest’s only duty. Guiding the lost back onto their path—that too is the task the Goddess entrusted to us,” Irexana replied with a gentle smile, his hands still folded as if in prayer.

His bearing was like that of a general who could command a million soldiers, yet the kindness in that smile was unmistakably that of a cardinal.

“Then, Hero Leon, shall we head to the Church? Unless you have other matters first...”

Thanks to Irexana, Leon remembered the duty he had almost forgotten.

“Ah, yes. I do need to stop by the Guild.”

Promoting an adventurer to S-rank was the highest goal of every Guild member and a privilege granted only at a few select branches. To reach it required not only staggering achievements but also strength on par with a Master. So rare were they that across the entire continent, the Guild could count its registered S-rank adventurers and mercenaries on just two hands

At his reply, Elahan stepped forward, holding out her Holy Iron Breaker for Irexana to see, and asked, “Cardinal Irexana, could you please take a look at this?”

“Saintess? Let’s see...”

Irexana’s eyes darkened as he examined it. As both an Aura Master and the greatest blacksmith in Jugend, what he saw was a ruined Breaker.

“The inner structure remains intact, but the condition is grave. To think the Holy Iron Breaker could be battered to this state... I would not have believed it without seeing it myself.”

Elahan’s voice was cautious as she asked, “Can it be repaired?”

“Of course. If the core had been broken, it might have been impossible, but since only the frame has collapsed, I can restore it quickly.”

“And please, my armor as well.”

“In that case, it will take a week of sleepless nights. Very well.”

Had it been ordinary gear, he could have finished in less than a day, but Elahan’s equipment was all of the highest grade. They were Holy Weapons imbued with rare metals, Holy Law, and techniques long lost for centuries. In this age, Irexana alone had the skill to maintain them.

Entrusting him with both the Holy Iron Breaker and Holy Barrier, Elahan bowed her head to the two.

“Then, I shall await you at the Church, Hero Leon.”

Splitting up had already been agreed upon during the airship ride. While Elahan had her arms restored and recovered her divine strength, Leon and Karen would finish the promotion procedures at the Guild.

Her deeds in the crusade had been so conspicuous that some had begun to question her identity—not that she was suspicious, but that she was too extraordinary to be just an ordinary Holy Iron Inquisitor.

Still, no one would dare ask her directly. If she simply kept her distance and stayed quiet for a bit, the rumors would die on their own.

That was the way of rumors: they spread quickly without proof, but if met with silence and the passage of time, they withered just as fast.

Elahan with Irexana, and Leon with Karen.

The two groups parted at the port, heading toward their separate tasks. Security in Area 1 was as strict as ever, but the pass Irexana had written was a master key, opening every gate and checkpoint without question.

***

“I’ve been expecting you, Mr. Leon.”

When the two arrived at the Guild in Area 1, they found the branch empty of visitors. Even in a place as quiet as Area 1, there were usually a few adventurers about. Today, however, not only was there no one, but even the clerks had been sent away. This was no ordinary scene.

Leon, seeing through the circumstances, asked the man who greeted them, “You cleared the place, didn’t you?” 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

“Yes. The identity of one who may be promoted to S-rank is of great importance. Two hours ago, we emptied the branch and left only staff with clearance for tier 2 confidential information or higher.”

“Then, you must be one of them.”

The man who greeted Leon and Karen—a balding fellow with a striking smile—nodded. Though not on their level, he was clearly strong. A veteran among Experts, leagues above mercenaries like Garlond.

“Indeed. I am Lugo, Guildmaster of Jugend’s Area 1 branch. An honor.”

After a courteous introduction, Guildmaster Lugo led them to his office. This was no way to treat a mere adventurer.

If A-rankers were the Guild’s elite, S-rankers were irreplaceable beings, practically superhumans who could sway the entire continent. A small tie to one could be turned into a weapon. Swear loyalty to a lord, and they become a grand noble. Serve the Guild, and they were instantly placed among its highest officers.

Even failing to advance was no disgrace. To be deemed worthy of attempting S-rank was honor enough, and if they failed once, they could just succeed the next. Their value did not diminish.

“I’ve heard much about you from Ryan, Mr. Leon. Normally, that guy has no praise for anyone with his high ego, but when he spoke of you, I thought my ears would fall off from being overworked.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Seating himself across from Leon and laying several papers on the table, Lugo began.

“In truth, the promotion to S-rank differs little from A-rank. It is simply a matter of exceeding the thresholds for record and for strength. The trouble is that those thresholds are so high that some resort to tricks or falsify reports.”

One by one, Lugo unfolded the documents that he likely reviewed tens, or even dozens of times, stamped boldly in red with the word “Approved”.

“In your case, Mr. Leon, every record has been verified. Reports from fellow adventurers from the recent raid, your prior deeds, they are all beyond question. And with the Holy Church itself vouching for you, no one would dare to quibble over your age.”

“But from the way you speak, there’s still more,” Leon said, picking up the hint.

“Correct. What I’ve spoken of so far concerns only ‘records.’”

If his record was proven, then one hurdle remained, and that was the proof of strength. Achievements could be stacked over the years. Strength could not. A man could linger as an Expert for thirty years and never equal a Master.

Thus, to attempt S-rank, one needed proof—or testimony—that he had reached Master-level ability. The kind of proof Leon had displayed in the crusade, where no one could deny his feats.

Leon thought for a moment, then asked, “To prove my strength, I’ll need an opponent, won’t I?”

After all, only one of equal or greater standing could judge a Master. Lugo, unsurprised at Leon’s sharp remark, nodded.

“Exactly so. Which is why the moment we received your application, we summoned a judge from nearby.”

“You don’t mean...!”

“Yes. We have secured an active S-rank to oversee your trial,” Lugo said, beaming like a person revealing a surprise gift, before revealing a name. “Cedric the Sword Demon will be your examiner. He arrives tomorrow. The two of you may proceed when you both feel ready.”