Hard Carried by My Sword

Chapter 193

—That’s right.

According to El-Cid’s explanation, the Winter Serpent was summoned from the dimension of eternal permafrost named Cocytus, and it lived up to its name by bringing winter wherever it went.

It didn’t literally change the seasons, but by devouring the heat around its lair, it created an unnatural climate. At first, the grass in the area simply won’t grow well, or the winds would turn chill. Over time, as it grows larger, its influence could eventually reach even the skies. Moisture that should ride the wind would freeze solid, and vapor that should have fallen as rain instead descended as snow or hail.

“Wouldn’t it be stronger if they set it loose in a desert? That’s where heat boils up on every side,” Leon asked.

El-Cid answered, —The Winter Serpent can’t live without a very large body of water. An oasis is nowhere near enough. Even a great lake like this isn’t exactly ideal for it.

Unlike ordinary lifeforms, monsters from other dimensions had no inherent size limit. Given enough nourishment and the right environment, they could grow monstrously large and powerful.

The Winter Serpent was no exception. Had it grown at the bottom of a warm sea, within a few months, it might have become larger than a mountain.

—Well, if that happened, the Evil Order wouldn’t be able to control it at all, so, of course, they didn’t let it.

Listening carefully, Leon asked, “So the bigger it grows, the harder it is to control?”

—Well, honestly, the word ‘control’ is misleading. The Winter Serpent has little intelligence. All the exolaw wielder can do is nudge its priorities.

If the Evil Order could truly command powerful monsters like the Winter Serpent at will, they’d have conquered the world long ago. The fact that they couldn’t was the simple reason why they have not done so yet.

—Exolaw is just borrowing strength from another dimension, not ruling or mastering it. Controlling the Winter Serpent is like dangling a carrot in front of a running horse. A crude trick, nothing more.

“That sounds pretty flimsy.”

—Ah, and one more thing. Its most threatening ability is devouring heat, yes—but its most annoying ability is another matter.

When the word “annoying” came from El-Cid, Leon tensed instinctively. He knew all too well how high and brutal his master’s standards were. And indeed, the second ability of the Winter Serpent was horrific.

—It spawns countless larvae, so small you can’t see them, infesting the water. Anyone who drinks it carries them inside. The more you consume, the faster it worsens.

“Larvae?!”

—Now you see the danger, right?

Eyes wide, Leon blurted, “Wait, don’t snakes lay eggs?!”

El-Cid sighed as if his student had just asked a stupid question.

—It looks like a snake, so we call it one, but it’s an extradimensional creature. Why would you assume that its biology matches what we have in our dimension?

“That’s... a good point...”

—Besides, there are snakes in our world that give birth to live offspring.

“Seriously?!”

After the brief digression, they returned to the point.

—The Winter Serpent’s larvae enter the host through water and begin altering its physiology from within.

“Altering... how?”

—Into servitors that follow and worship the Winter Serpent.

Smooth, cold scales would creep across the skin. The heart would beat more slowly, and as a result, the blood would become cooler. Tongues would grow thin and forked, nails sharpened into claws, and the lower body would mutate into writhing tendrils like a snake’s, fit for movement in water.

—The Winter Serpent is inherently lazy, so it makes servants that can fetch its prey and tend to it. And once changed, there is no return to being human.

“What an infuriating ability.”

Leon’s golden eyes bored into the depths of the lake. Even the Stigma of the Watcher couldn’t pierce so far. However, with El-Cid’s words in mind, he focused harder—until he caught glimpses of tiny wriggling things beneath the surface. It was the larvae. The thought that even the water they drank at the inn might be crawling with them made his stomach churn.

—Don’t worry. You and the girls could drink the whole lake dry without harm. If it’s just the thought of it that bothers you, well, nothing I can do about that.

El-Cid’s cheerful tone grated all the more. Leon didn’t answer. He thought in silence, and then a realization flashed across his mind, sparked by their earlier exchange.

“El-Cid,” he called.

—Hm?

El-Cid had said it himself: the Evil Order’s method of control was no better than dangling a carrot before a horse. The stronger the Winter Serpent grew, the harder it would be to rein in—and eventually, the leash would snap. That was the opening that Leon had to exploit.

“I have an idea. Tell me if it would work or not.”

After hearing Leon’s plan, El-Cid sighed like a man giving up and said, —You really do think of the craziest things, my disciple.

“Yeah, yeah. So?”

El-Cid’s voice turned mischievous, as if he had the biggest grin on his face.

—Let’s do it!

***

Meanwhile, Karen was moving toward the viscount’s manor in the northern district of Ladoga. Determined not to repeat her earlier mistakes, she concealed herself from the outset, slipping through one shadow to the next. Only beings on the level of Nephren-Ka or the Giant King Kasim could have detected her in this state.

Ignoring air resistance and obstacles, her speed was even faster, and within minutes she reached her destination: the manor of the Viscount of Ladoga.

This is it? It’s pretty humble compared to the Alger Fortress.

It was meaningless—unfair even—to compare a margrave with a mere viscount. However, that was none of Karen’s business.

Night had fallen, and with lamps lit throughout the manor, Karen infiltrated through pockets of shadow, completely unnoticed. Expecting common soldiers or knights to notice an Assassin Master’s entry would have been absurd.

Shadows wavered indoors where no wind stirred. Karen raced through them, then came to a halt.

Aha! Found it!

She didn’t even need a floor plan. Though this wasn’t her usual region of activity, noble manors shared certain layouts regardless of land or nation, such as a wine cellar for storing drink, a hidden passage for emergencies, and on the top floor, a wide chamber serving as the lord’s office. Ladoga’s manor was no exception.

Seated in a plush leather chair, a man with a round mustache and belly to match rang a bell. He could only be the Viscount of Ladoga.

“Steward! Where is Steward Rupert?!” he shouted, calling for his servant.

A moment later, Rupert, the head steward, entered at the sound. He bowed politely and said, “You called, my lord.”

“Yes. Did you find out what I asked you to?”

Rupert replied at once, as if he had been waiting for the question.

“Indeed. In fact, I was just seeking the counsel of mages and scholars.”

“Counsel? Hmph! How leisurely that sounds!”

The Viscount jabbed a pudgy finger toward the window and barked, “Summer isn’t even over, and already that cursed lake is icing over! We’re lucky that this land isn’t farm country, or the harvest would’ve been ruined!”

“Yes, that’s a relief, indeed.”

“Relief? Reliiiief? Since when did that word mean something so pathetic? Has even the meaning of relief frozen to death?!”

Karen couldn’t help but be impressed. He hadn’t sworn or insulted the man, yet his words alone could twist one’s gut.

Though Rupert’s face remained placid, his eyebrows quivered. Were it not his lord speaking, he might have punched him in the face outright. Such was the Viscount’s grating manner.

“Magic, sorcery, whatever you have to do! I don’t care! Find the cause and fix it! This chill has lasted nearly two months, and not a single answer! Am I to sit here sucking my thumb with nothing to tell the merchants?!”

“I will hasten the search, my lord.”

“Hasten? You mean you weren’t trying all this time? Has my suffering in this cramped study amused you? And now, of all times, Sir Dayton comes to visit...”

The tirade dragged on, but nothing advanced. It was only master and servant, superior and inferior.

Only after nearly an hour of browbeating did the Viscount dismiss him with a wave. Rupert endured it all without losing his mask of composure. However, when he turned away toward the door and Karen finally saw his face head-on, she noticed it.

A pair of gleaming eyes, bright with a bluish killing aura.

Better follow him.

Even her Aura Master’s senses had detected nothing, but in that instant, she had felt the distinct murderous intent. It was the kind of pressure only elite assassins exuded, certainly not something an ordinary steward should have.

As the office door shut behind him, Karen flowed into the shadows and trailed Rupert. Down staircases, around corners, past empty corridors and rooms. He exchanged greetings with a few maids still working late into the night, but his steps carried him toward an annex.

Then, with a thump, Karen’s heartbeat quickened. Instinct screamed before thought.

A Master...!

Within that annex was someone whose presence even she could not ignore. The other had yet to notice her.

Even among Aura Masters, the Shadow Aura attribute was unmatched for stealth. As long as Karen maintained her concealment and didn’t switch to attack, she would remain unseen. After a few seconds’ deliberation, she hid herself within Rupert’s shadow and followed him to the annex.

At last, the door to the guest chamber opened with a creak.

“You’re late.”

Despite his hair being completely white, the man who greeted Rupert had a sturdy build and piercing eyes. Being nearly two meters tall with broad shoulders, his frame alone set him apart, radiating the vigor of someone who might charge onto a battlefield at any moment.

The old man, Dayton, spoke.

“What business could drag on so long in the dead of night? You don’t look too happy.”

“Shut it. I’ll rip that fat pig to shreds with my own hands.”

The head steward—no, Rupert—cast aside the mask he had worn until just now. His manner was nothing like a servant’s. Facing a Master-level warrior, he didn’t even feign courtesy. That was certainly not the attitude a steward would show, and that was precisely the reason.

Rupert said, “The serpent is growing slower than expected. If things had gone according to plan, that pig would already be dead, and we’d be raising the serpent’s horde on this land to lure the Imperial Guard.”

“There’s no setback, I trust?” Dayton asked.

“There is no problem. It’s only a delay. The plan itself proceeds smoothly,” said Rupert, exolaw wielder of the Evil Order, as he curled his lips in a foul smile.

“As promised, your son will live. Well, not as a human, of course.”

“...”

“So, even an Aura Master is still only a man. To betray your loyalty, abandon your house and honor, all for a single child... I’ll never understand it.”

Dayton’s deep voice rumbled, “I don’t ask you to understand. If the boy survives, if he outlives me, then this life of mine is worth spending however it’s used.”

“Hah! How touching,” Rupert sneered at his resolve, then revealed his true intent. “In a month, every living thing in Ladoga will belong to the serpent. We’ll mark that point as the time to fulfill the contract.”

“Hm.”

Dayton only nodded once. He had sided, unwillingly, with the Evil Order, but he had no intention of joining in their malice. All of it was for his son, even if that meant a sin beyond redemption.

I see how it is, Karen thought, listening from the shadows, as she weighed her options.

Rupert was clearly the Evil Order’s agent. Dayton, an Aura Master, had been dragged into their schemes for the sake of his son.

The tale was pitiful, but Karen stayed cool. Her assassin’s instincts measured the odds of striking.

Seventy-thirty. Possible—but if I fail, there’s no second chance. I don’t even know what form that old man’s Aura Blade takes. One counter and I could be dead.

It would be a move of high risk, high return.

Better hold off tonight.

She wavered at the crossroads but remembered Leon’s warning: avoid combat, focus on gathering information. That pulled her one step back.

Perhaps it was that restraint that saved her.

As soon as the shadow around her rippled, a spear, loosed like lightning, tore through the tiles where she had been hidden.

“W-what’s this?! Are you turning on me, Dayton?!” Rupert screeched like a panicked rat, but Dayton didn’t even glance at him.

“Hm. Was I mistaken? I must be getting old.”

He lowered the spear he held, scanning the spot where moments ago he’d felt a presence. Even with his senses sharpened, he found nothing. He had thrust with Aura Blade itself; anything there should have been fatally pierced. Yet there was no trace of blood, no scent of death.

There was nothing. And yet, the unease lingered.

Goddess, are you watching me? Dayton thought. Do not condemn me. You who could not save my son have no right to do so.

Muttering words that were half excuse, half guilt, the man who once bore the Imperial banner sat back into his chair.

Rupert prattled something, but his words never reached Dayton’s ears. Only the weight of the spear across his back remained clear.

Loyalty abandoned. Honor cast aside. All he had left now was his spear.