The World Didn't End, 500 Upfront
The special delivery request from House Arlaxis offered five hundred upfront, with an additional fifteen million cells payable upon successful completion. At first glance the sum seemed absurd, but when you considered that most special deliveries charged around this much, it was actually a standard rate.
So why did a special delivery—nothing more than transporting an item safely—command ten to a hundred times the fee of a regular job? The answer was simple.
“Absolute adherence to the deadline.”
There were countless reasons—importance of the cargo, its value, emphasis on safety—but the one that mattered most was arriving within the allotted time. For example, the journey from the southern trading post where I’d received the package to Count Arlaxis’s estate normally took ten days on horseback without rest. This request demanded it be done in three.
On top of that, anything important enough to warrant a special delivery tended to attract plenty of unwanted attention. You never knew what might happen along the way. Natural disasters, sudden accidents, or the courier getting injured were all possibilities. Yet the deadline remained non-negotiable. That was what made it a special delivery.
Usually, when someone paid for this level of service, it meant the item was urgently needed. Which was why even being a few minutes late meant forfeiting the balance. In this industry, that was simply how things worked.
So the most important thing was to avoid any delays and keep running. And yet…
“This forest is off-limits!”
“A tenth-class contaminant has appeared! You must turn back until it has been subjugated!”
“His Imperial Majesty has issued a decree. The knight order will be dispatched shortly! Should you approach before then and perish, it is entirely your own responsibility! Furthermore, if you are discovered inside the restricted zone, you will be classified as contaminated and eliminated on the spot!”
The imperial knights blocking the fastest shortcut to House Arlaxis all bore the golden eagle emblem signifying direct allegiance to the imperial family. These weren’t some noble’s private soldiers; they were an official knight order dispatched from the palace itself. Elite warriors who could chew up and spit out regular knights were personally controlling the road.
“Tenth-class contaminant?”
“Just my rotten luck. Of all the places for a contaminant to appear…”
“We have to deliver within a week. If this route is blocked…”
Even the notoriously hot-tempered merchants from the trading company turned their carriages around without a word of protest. If the reason had been ridiculous they might have argued, but a tenth-class contaminant—one infamous for turning entire cities into barren wastelands where not even a single weed could grow—left no room for negotiation.
It was only natural for the knight order to impose control. Ordinary people without mana protection could have their bodies melt just by getting close to a contaminant.
Of course, that didn’t mean I was going to obediently turn back.
“If I detour around this forest, there’s no way I’ll make it in three days.”
A tenth-class contaminant would mean every forest in the area had been closed off. Taking the long way around the sealed zones would add so much time that even running day and night for three full days wouldn’t get me there on schedule. The only viable option was the shortest route.
Even if that meant defying an imperial decree…
Well, I’m already wanted anyway.
The bounty on my head was already as high as it could get. I doubted adding one more offense would change anything. Even if it did, the punishment couldn’t get any worse than it already was.
Tap—!
With that thought, I poured mana into my legs, kicked off the ground, and dashed between the trees. If I’d been dragging a carriage like the others, I would have been forced to stick to the road. But the delivery item I was carrying was nothing more than a small box tucked inside my coat. As long as I kept the general direction, cutting straight through the forest posed no problem.
It would take longer than following the original path, but it was still better than going the long way around.
“Still… a tenth-class contaminant, huh.”
While I continued cutting through the forest without any interference, I frowned at the sinister aura I sensed from far ahead.
“This is supposed to be tenth-class?”
Unlike regular monsters, contaminants were impurities created in this world through contact with the Outer Gods—essentially the dregs of those eldritch beings. They were like malicious viruses that had infected a computer. Simply existing in the world caused massive damage and served as an omen of apocalypse.
That was why, whenever a contaminant appeared, the empire quickly assigned it a rank to calculate the potential destruction and dispose of it as fast as possible. Yet…
“This is at least ninth-class.”
The contaminant’s energy, dissolved into the air, tried to approach my body only to be scattered by my mana. Even though I was still quite far away, the way it struggled to expand its territory told me everything. To the naked eye it might look like a tenth-class, but anyone who examined the energy with even a little precision would realize it was definitely not.
The Imperial Knight Order missed something like this?
I frowned deeply. The empire occupied the largest and widest territory on the continent, and even within that empire, the Imperial Knight Order was said to gather the most outstanding talents. They must have subjugated dozens of contaminants by now. For them to still be unable to accurately identify a contaminant’s rank was ridiculous.
“This is insane.”
I stopped walking and climbed the tallest tree in the vicinity. From the top, I could see a dark, murky monster moving in the distance. Its body was so enormous I could make it out clearly without even enhancing my eyesight. The trees around it withered and died in seconds.
Just as expected of an Outer God’s dregs—merely moving caused damage.
“What am I supposed to do about that…”
Seeing it in person only confirmed my suspicions. This contaminant was clearly ninth-class. And the difference between a tenth-class and a ninth-class couldn’t simply be dismissed as one rank.
From single-digit class onward, actual fragments of the Outer Gods seep in.
Of course, even in a ninth-class the amount was minuscule and not enough to sustain long-term use. Still, the mere fact that those fragments existed made it incomparably more dangerous than any tenth-class.
That was why, starting from ninth-class contaminants, the imperial family would issue summons to nearby guilds and noble houses, gathering superhumans capable of dealing with them.
However, judging from what the knights had said, the palace had classified this one as tenth-class. The Imperial Knight Order would be dispatched here.
And then—
“They’ll get completely wiped out by that ninth-class contaminant.”
It probably wouldn’t be total annihilation. They were the Imperial Knight Order, after all. They might retreat with half their number—or slightly more—still alive.
After they withdrew, while the palace issued new summons and gathered capable fighters, the contaminant would continue advancing. To atone for their mistake, the empire would send her.
The second star of the empire. The first sword guarding the imperial family. The knight commander with authority to command every knight order belonging to the palace. A 5-Ring who had entered the realm of superhumans, then advanced two more steps to become a 7-Ring Sword Master.
And the crazy woman who drew her sword and demanded a duel the moment she saw me.
Scarlet Frausia.
She had once tracked me all the way from the imperial palace to the back alleys of the capital just by sensing my presence. If she came here, there was a good chance she would notice me again. No matter how carefully I avoided the empire’s eyes while on the run, I had no confidence I could escape the senses of a 7-Ring Sword Master.
The best solution was to make sure she never came here at all.
Since I was running at full speed to meet the delivery deadline anyway, I would have plenty of spare time.
Srrrng.
Having made my decision, I drew the sword from my waist. To deal with the contaminant before me.
“...So that’s a tenth-class contaminant.”
Latua, a newly inducted knight of the imperial Kantuma Knight Order, looked up at the colossal creature moving in the distance. A monster covered entirely in black with a shape that defied description. Without question, it was the most repulsive thing he had ever seen.
Before joining the Kantuma Order he had slain several low-class contaminants, but this was his first time facing a tenth-class. He unconsciously tightened his grip on his sword hilt.
Noticing his tension, the senior knight standing beside him gave Latua’s shoulder a light pat.
“First time hunting a tenth-class contaminant?”
“...Yes.”
“It’s normal to be nervous. It’s not on the level of a single-digit class, but even a tenth-class isn’t something one person can handle alone.”
The senior knight explained that contaminants of tenth-class or higher required the strength of an entire knight order or a superhuman to subjugate.
“Still, it’s fortunate we discovered it so quickly. If you leave a contaminant alone for too long, the land itself rots completely.”
“Yes… I heard purification magic barely works on them either.”
“That’s what makes them contaminants. Dozens of priests have to work together for days just to strip away the corruption. And even that is nearly impossible against single-digit classes.”
The senior knight twirled the sword in his hand a few times before resting it on Latua’s shoulder.
“But it’s only tenth-class, and our order has plenty of experience subjugating these things.”
“...I see.”
Plenty of experience subjugating contaminants. Hearing those words, Latua once again felt the weight of where he now stood. This was the imperial Kantuma Knight Order—a gathering of the empire’s greatest geniuses. Of course they would have ample experience.
He also realized the senior knight was speaking this way to ease the nerves of a rookie.
“So there’s no need to be too tense.”
Latua nodded at the considerate gesture and opened his mouth to reply—
The next instant, the voice made him lose consciousness.
It was an unidentifiable, skin-crawlingly smooth voice. When Latua regained his senses, his knees were already pressed against the ground. And he wasn’t the only one.
“W-what is this?”
“Mental domination? From a tenth-class contaminant?”
“That voice just now…”
Every knight in the Kantuma Order, gathered to subjugate the contaminant, had been forced to their knees exactly as the voice commanded.
“Ugh…!”
Latua tried to force his knees up, but they wouldn’t budge. It was his body, yet it no longer felt like his own. The moment everyone realized they couldn’t move their legs, the sky itself seemed to tremble.
The colossal contaminant that had been moving in the distance was now staring straight at them. Their eyes met. Since the pupils are the mirror of the soul, Latua felt as if his very soul was being observed.
Soul facing existence. Existence peering into soul. Finding interest. Being torn apart. Being pieced back together. Assembly and disassembly. Birth and death. And the ruin that would follow.
In that moment, the entire knight order and Latua became one with death. Within that death, Latua’s soul made a single wish.
That someone—anyone—would save him.
And in his fading consciousness, Latua saw something.
A bluish light, as if it had captured the glow of moonlight, swallowed the monster whole and sliced it clean in half.