Chapter 7
Chapter 7
The silence was broken by a knock from outside the door.
“Is anyone there?”
The military had come to my office.
“Is Rina, daughter of Colonel Marcus, here?”
It turned out Rina had slipped out of her guardian’s supervision and come all the way here on her own.
She was practically escorted out of the office under military custody in an instant.
And just like that, the conversation ended.
My apology never reached her.
None of my words did.
They all vanished into the air.
“She’s quite a spirited young lady.”
“Shut up. Just shut up!”
Before I even realized it, I grabbed an ashtray and threw it at the demon.
“Dangerous.”
It dodged it casually.
A child who had lost her parents, desperately trying to stand tall, shouldn’t be described with words like “spirited.”
I exhaled sharply.
I don’t even know why I’m thinking this.
The ashtray hit the floor with a dull clatter.
“Looks like it fell.”
“Damn it.”
Ignoring the demon’s grin, I picked up the ashtray and lit another cigarette.
I didn’t eat that day.
No. I couldn’t.
All I did was smoke.
All day long.
…
Beep—beep—beep—
“Frane, looks like the next job has arrived.”
The next day.
While I ignored the emergency signal and kept smoking one cigarette after another, the demon placed a printed dispatch order in front of me.
The easiest way to worsen someone’s mood is to hand them more work when they’re already at their limit.
The demon knew that very well.
I snatched the paper roughly.
As I skimmed the familiar, hated format, my eyes stopped at a specific emblem.
A sword, an eye, and a rose-wreathed crown of thorns.
The symbol of the Holy Knights.
“…Of all things, the Holy Knight Order.”
My brow tightened without me realizing it.
As if my mood wasn’t already rotten enough.
When it involves the knights, it’s always exhausting.
“I’d rather deal with the military or hunters.”
There are four major factions fighting the Xen on this world.
The Allied Command, formed from merged nations, and the regular military.
The Holy Knight Order, wielders of divine light.
The Awakened, who use innate abilities for irregular warfare.
And hunters, mostly lone operators specializing in heavy weapons.
The easiest to deal with are the Awakened.
Despite their abilities and personalities being wildly varied, they at least don’t look at me like I’m blasphemy incarnate the moment I appear.
Maybe because “abnormal” recognizes “abnormal” faster than most.
As long as the result is good, they tolerate methods.
Hunters are even simpler.
Does it kill Xen or not?
Can it complete the contract with demon assistance or not?
That’s all that matters.
A business-like mindset makes them tolerable.
But the knights are different.
In short,
“Already exhausted just thinking about it. Zealots drunk on light…”
“….”
I didn’t deny it.
They were fanatics.
They judge right and wrong before anything else.
And they despise demons.
Naturally, they also despise me.
They were the ones who opposed unsealing the Demon of Contracts from the beginning.
If the demon is consumed by Xen, the world ends.
Not wrong.
The problem is what came after.
Even after agreeing at the top level to release the demon and formally appointing brokers to manage it, they still look at me like I’m filth.
Of course, they can’t openly put me on trial.
So they use quieter methods.
Suspicion. Rumors. Poisoned words.
Every chance they get, they poke at wounds that never close.
That’s why they are the most exhausting faction.
So when such people request me personally…
That was rare.
“You don’t exactly have the luxury to pick and choose, Frane.”
“Shut it. You’re the one who hates knights the most.”
The demon grinned as if amused by my irritation.
I refocused on the order.
Requested support: Holy Knight Order.
Specifically, the frontline combat unit known as the Sacred Choir.
Which meant this was a front-line deployment.
The Sacred Choir were not the kind of knights who sang safely behind walls.
They wore armor, walked into blood and mud, and sang hymns while swinging swords.
Like canaries that dive into hell instead of singing from cages.
With faith as strong as their bodies, they could tear apart elephant-sized Xen entities head-on using divine light.
Unlike Awakened or hunters, these were people who had proven their convictions with their own hands.
That made them worse.
People whose faith, skill, and experience were all real were the hardest to talk to.
“I think I know who called you.”
The demon covered its mouth, hiding its expression.
There was only one person who came to mind when the Sacred Choir was involved.
I sighed.
Just thinking about her made my hand unconsciously reach for another cigarette.
She wasn’t a bad person.
Just… difficult to face.
Still, I had no choice.
The order had already been issued.
The front lines never gave anyone room to hesitate.
What mattered was why the knights, who usually handled things themselves, were requesting me specifically.
They would rather die than rely on demon assistance.
So why me?
As I turned the page, the situation report appeared.
Location: Outer perimeter of Yellow Zone 7.
Ruins of the old Saint Edmund Cathedral.
Unidentified protective phenomenon detected around the cathedral.
Multiple civilians confirmed alive inside.
Xen entities repel upon approach.
Even Holy Knight units are repelled.
“…It rejects the knights too?”
My hand stopped.
A force protecting civilians exists.
It blocks Xen.
But it also blocks the knights.
Further down, the analysis continued.
The phenomenon does not match any known knightly holy arts, purification systems, or divine barriers.
Possible unknown entity or demon interference.
Two Sacred Choir operations failed.
Due to risk of civilian casualties, forced breach suspended.
Requesting assistance from licensed demon broker.
I closed the file.
Now I understood.
If this were just a matter of killing Xen, my name wouldn’t be on it.
“You don’t need demon power. You need demon knowledge.”
The demon spoke casually.
Knowledge.
That made sense.
The knights were sensitive to evil, but ignorant of it.
Because knowing too much was considered corruption.
They reject understanding itself.
A structure they cannot classify.
Something close to a contract-based phenomenon.
I set the file down.
The knights always prioritize saving lives.
Even criminals in Yellow Zones are not abandoned.
But breaking the unknown barrier could trigger casualties from the nearby Red Zone.
A scenario they despise.
No wonder they called me.
“Get ready. We’re moving.”
I put on my coat and grabbed my bag.
Soon I was heading to the designated rendezvous point.
I exhaled slowly.
This already felt like trouble.
And my instincts were usually right.
…
“You’ve arrived.”
“Let’s move immediately.”
At the rendezvous point, a helicopter and suited personnel were waiting.
That meant they were desperate enough to come to me directly.
If I had been even slightly late, they would’ve shown up at my office.
Damn it… a helicopter.
I hate flying.
“It seems even helicopters don’t like you, Frane.”
“Shut up.”
Ignoring the demon, I boarded.
The helicopter lifted off immediately.
…
“Ugh—”
I threw up as soon as we landed.
Before even reaching the base.
Already exhausted.
The demon was, as always, enjoying my misery.
Soon I was transferred into a jeep.
The frontline base was right on the edge of the Red Zone.
As we drove, a ruined bell tower appeared in the distance.
An abandoned cathedral in the middle of the Yellow Zone.
Strangely quiet.
A faint hymn drifted through the wind.
The Sacred Choir.
The demon leaned against my shoulder as if listening to music.
“Move.”
It ignored me.
I had no idea why it insisted on physical form in a cramped vehicle.
Suddenly, an alarm blared.
“Damn it, ghost cormorants. At least ten of them.”
The escort hunter jumped out, raising his weapon.
He took cover and aimed upward.
Then—
A flash of golden light erupted outside.
Thunderous impacts followed one after another.
“That direction… good.”
The hunter’s expression relaxed.
Relief.
As if the situation had already been resolved.
I immediately leaned out with binoculars.
In the sky, a flock of black winged creatures disintegrated upon touching a golden barrier, turning to ash.
So that was the phenomenon.
“Arrived.”
Soon we reached the checkpoint.
I stepped out of the vehicle, practically pushed out.
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