The Calamity Sword, Part 5

A little further along, the crest of the hill came into view. I spotted the camellia tree where Isha had cried as a child, and at the edge of her pointing finger stood a massive boulder.

Though it was large, it was tucked away among the trees, making it hard to spot. Isha found it effortlessly, even without any markers nearby. True to her words about it being a place of memories, she navigated the path as familiarly as if it were her own home.

"It's been years, but nothing here has changed."

With a tender touch, she peeled away the tangled vines clinging to the stone. As the green stems fell away, the back of the boulder was revealed.

"Though the weeds seem to have grown ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a bit thicker. They've really shot up in the meantime."

"Plants will grow out of control if you don't tend to them. Ah, is this it?"

"Yes. Writing on the back like this was our promise. The rock is softer than it looks, so it's easy to carve into."

Just as Isha said, several words were carved into the back of the rock, looking as though they had been etched with a knife. The inscriptions at the bottom were old, while the ones higher up appeared more recent. Perhaps they had been written to match Isha's height as she grew? It felt like reading a glimpse of her past.

Isha complaining that her training was too hard. Russell comforting her. Isha's handwriting was crooked and uneven, but Russell's was written in rigid, block letters. To her complaints of loneliness, he had replied, "Let's meet tomorrow." To her mention of a friend's birthday, he had written, "I will prepare a gift." Russell seemed to have been a blunt, taciturn father. Just like mine had been.

The words written at the very top caught the eyes of all three of us. It was a message carved not too long ago.

Someone had beaten us to it. It seemed Russell had remembered Isha's childhood memories first. We began by digging beneath the boulder, just as Russell had instructed. Buried underneath was an old wooden chest, though it didn't look like it had been placed there recently. It was a box buried long ago, dating back at least five years.

"It looks like he made preparations a long time ago."

"Father was... always a well-prepared man. He probably anticipated that a day like this might come."

"Do you want to open it? If you're not comfortable, you can open ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it when we're not around. I won't force you."

"No, it's fine. We can look at it together now."

With Isha's consent, the wooden chest was opened. Inside lay a bulging leather pouch, a map, a single letter, and an old necklace.

The leather pouch was filled to the brim with high-value gold coins. It was enough ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠money to settle down comfortably anywhere—so much that, if spent wisely, she could live her entire life without ever having to work again.

The map detailed the surrounding area of Requitas, with a specific location marked in red. It was quite a distance from here, making it difficult to verify immediately. I wondered if that was where the information was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hidden, but I had no desire to covet it. If left alive, this girl was destined to become a Sword Master in the future. She was also someone who would never betray us until her final breath. Keeping her as a valuable ally would surely bear fruit someday.

"This necklace belonged to my mother. I saw it when I was little, but I haven't seen it since. I guess he kept it hidden here."

"They must have been close."

"More than with Father, at least. I cried so much when she passed away. I hated Father because he didn't even cry and just drank alcohol, but looking back, I think I was too harsh on him."

It seemed all fathers in the world were like that. They absolutely loathed showing any weakness in front of their children. I, too, had lost my mother at an early age, yet my father had never once spoken of her. And that was despite him being, by all accounts, deeply devoted to her. That man had also obsessively tried to teach me nothing but the sword. Looking back, I suppose he felt the sword was the only thing he possessed, and so he wanted to pass it down to me. Since the sword was his entire world, he was trying to give me his everything.

The letter Russell left behind contained only a brief message. Since it had been placed there so long ago, there was no need for it to be lengthy.

Isha bit her lower lip slightly. Her curled-up posture made her look either angry or as if she were desperately holding back tears. Only Isha would know which one it was.

"What do you want to do?" Sirien asked. "He told you to leave Requitas. Will you do that?"

"If I try to leave... can I?"

"We can help you get out. A place like this wouldn't maintain its city walls properly anyway, so if we look, we'll find a gap or two."

Requitas's walls were practically useless. Although the Sewer Rats would be guarding the exits since they were searching for Isha, Sirien and I could easily smuggle her out. Even if someone stood in our way, we were confident we could eliminate them silently. Helping Isha escape was the final favor we could offer her. A favor born out of a simple desire not to see her captured by the Sewer Rats. But that was all. To be cold and realistic, Isha was no longer of much use to us. Since Russell had left such a message, it was clear he had no intention of contacting her again. And the meaning behind his words, "I will clean up everything," was blindingly obvious. There were only two ways for the situation with the Crescent Moon to be resolved: either all the Sewer Rats died, or Russell did. It was painfully clear which of the two was the realistic outcome.

"I..."

For now, we decided to return to our lodgings. Since the situation had changed, we could consider actively searching for Russell ourselves. However, there was something we had to take care of first. Behind a small tree at the edge of the hill, where the dark shadows gathered away from the moonlight. I glanced toward the quiet forest, where not even a breeze seemed to blow. From within, I could hear an incredibly faint sound of breathing.

They had been tailing us ever since we left our lodgings. I had planned to kill them if they tried to head back to report, but since they kept following us, I had ignored them until now. But now that we had to return to the city, it was time to shake off our tails.

"Sirien. Shall we clean up and go?"

"Let's. Conveniently, if we kill them here, we won't even need to clean up the bodies."

With her permission granted, I formed a simple hand seal with one hand. The holy spells and Authorities I could use were all far simpler and more straightforward than Sirien's. Perhaps it was because the role of the Order's guardian was much simpler compared to that of the Saintess? Sirien had to lead, but I only had to protect her. I didn't possess an Authority like Edwin's, which allowed him to teleport anywhere, as that was a power granted only within the Sanctuary. Thus, most of the Authorities I received were combat-oriented. For instance, the most basic one was the power to temporarily manifest a weapon.

A small amount of divine power flowed out of my body. The manifested divinity coalesced in my hand, shaping into a dark, ink-colored spear. It was divine power condensed and solidified. Without hesitation, I hurled the spear. Tearing through the night, the spear pierced cleanly through a tree. Crack! A faint, muffled scream was instantly swallowed by the sound of splintering wood.

There were two tails following us. From the opposite side, a nimble figure chose to flee. Sirien took care of that one. Having synchronized our movements over the years, we didn't need a single word to divide our targets. A brutal hand axe embedded itself precisely into the back of the fleeing man's head. It was a display of skill that never failed to impress.

"How do you throw that so well?"

"I just throw it, and it lands."

"Tsk. Geniuses, I swear."

The talent she had discovered in the forest was being put to excellent use in Sirien's hands. Once we had some breathing room, she had tested various throwing weapons like daggers, spears, and throwing knives, but for some reason, Sirien had a particular fondness for axes. She claimed they fit her hand the best. If she felt that way, there was no arguing with her. The hand axe Sirien was currently using had been custom-made at a blacksmith's shop in the Isquente territory—the starting point of the conflict zone. Having absorbed so much of her divine power, it was now practically a holy relic.

The axe pulled itself free from the corpse and flew right back into Sirien's hand with a satisfying clack. The blood smeared on the blade seeped directly into the metal. I stared in sheer horror at the sight.

"What on earth is that? Why is it drinking blood?"

It had definitely been an ordinary axe when we bought it. Made of steel and wood, with no strange enchantments on it. The only difference from when we first purchased it was that it had absorbed a massive amount of divine power. An axe drinking blood was a spectacle I simply couldn't comprehend.

"Doing this restores any damage to the blade. See? Isn't it convenient?"

"Well, yes... It does look convenient. But it's a bit... unsettling to watch."

"Why? I think it's cute."

Naturally, there was nothing cute about its appearance. It looked exactly like what it was: a hand axe with a short handle and a large blade meant for one-handed use. I felt a sudden sense of crisis regarding Sirien's tastes. It seemed she had spent far too much time on the battlefield. Shouldn't I try to steer her tastes toward something a bit more feminine? I resolved to gift her flowers or dolls from time to time.

I checked the corpses of our tails, but as expected, they carried nothing of note. They had been attached to us shortly after our meeting with Millen. Still, I had a rough idea of how the other side intended to play this. Two tails had followed us, and both were now dead. Since neither returned, they wouldn't know if we had Isha with us. Not that it mattered if they did. Even if Millen failed to bring Keerux's companion to us, we could just find them ourselves. I had only wanted to save ourselves some trouble. It was about time we wrapped things up in this city and moved on. Sirien and I returned to our lodgings, just the two of us.