This Is a Breach of Contract
“This is a breach of contract.”
A breach of contract? Of what?
“Stop joking around!”
Don’t shout so loud. A dog that barks too loudly is, rather…
“What did you say? Awakening a Great Demon—”
“Explain in detail!”
Deathbringer could not even click his tongue as he watched the one who shoved past him to confront the man head-on. The face of the thick-skulled Inquisitor, never gentle even on ordinary days when she sulked like a sulky child, had hardened into something terrifyingly rigid.
And he knew exactly when that expression appeared. Whenever the subject turned to demons—especially the truly dangerous kind—the Inquisitor wore that face.
“I don’t know the details either. I only overheard it.”
“Then tell us whatever you do know. This is extremely important.”
The man looked a little put out at the sudden intrusion and the way he was being pressed so aggressively.
Yet with survival as his goal, he might have been startled, but he did not stop his tongue or lips from moving.
“All I heard was that if this succeeds, the Great Demon who left home will return… and that they can seize the Hero’s sword.”
The Hero’s sword. There was no need to ask what that meant. For a Hero who wielded a mace, there was only one being who could be called her sword.
Even if that sword’s temperament was so foul that it never listened to the Hero and instead swung her around as it pleased.
“…The Demon Knight is in danger.”
“We must find him at once.”
Deathbringer rarely found himself in agreement with the Inquisitor. It was not a pleasant experience.
This went beyond the failure of a plan; it could become a catastrophe far worse.
“Hey, what are you talking about?”
“Did the plan go wrong?”
Perhaps it was because the two who had remained calm even while watching the Demon Knight rampage through the castle now wore such grave faces. The thieves, finished changing clothes, began to gather around little by little.
As people who made their living by reading the room, they already seemed infected by Deathbringer’s anxiety.
And that, too, was bad news. Collapsing morale could turn even a workable operation into failure. Somehow he had to restore their momentum.
But how? How on earth was he supposed to rally them? He himself could barely keep his own shock under control.
He bit down hard on his parched lips.
From the moment the Demon Knight had proposed the plan, he had known how dangerous a gamble it was.
But because it was the Demon Knight leading them—because that powerful knight would be at their side—he had not taken the danger seriously.
The idea that the man could lose had never even crossed his mind, not even a little.
But was that truly the case? Had there really been no chance of that knight’s defeat?
“We need to get out of here immediately.”
Deathbringer lowered his gaze as he watched the one he had always considered inferior to himself in such matters issue firm orders.
Instead of relying on the Demon Knight’s strength, he needed to remember how weak the Demon Knight was against prepared enemies.
Instead of the image of him hunting a dragon alone or striding boldly through a city crawling with demons, he had to recall the pale face lying on white sheets in Tatara.
Only then could he fulfill the value that had allowed him to join this party despite his lesser combat power…
“The enemy already knew the Demon Knight would come here! Our position may have been compromised as well! We move now! Quickly!”
“What?”
“Ah, shit…”
“And you—please cooperate while we go. Come with us.”
But he had failed. Because he had not grasped the situation carefully enough, because he had not handled the information properly.
And so the Demon Knight had been fully exposed to the hostility aimed at him. He had been sent alone, unprepared, into malice so blatant that even the fragments they had overheard made it obvious.
“And you.”
What now? What if the Demon Knight really had been taken? If that knight had finally been consumed by the demon and turned into an enemy…
How were he—how were they—supposed to push forward?
“Hey, hey! Hey, thief!”
He didn’t know. Nothing came to mind. Their own group was hardly safe right now, yet he still needed to come up with alternatives so at least they could keep their lives.
The chance he had thrown away through negligence, and the one who might now be in critical danger because of it, flickered before his eyes.
“Get a hold of yourself!”
Then tremendous pressure slammed into his cheek. It wasn’t enough to break anything, but it was more than enough to split his lip.
“You idiot! We’re in the middle of enemy territory! No matter what variable explodes, no matter what hardship hits us, do not space out! Do you understand?!”
Next his collar was seized. Far brighter, more radiant green eyes fixed him from the front, reflecting him with perfect clarity.
“If you’ve come to your senses, tell us what we do next! I’m no good at infiltration, and this is your specialty, isn’t it?!”
The man reflected in those eyes looked truly stupid even to himself.
“…Who’s spacing out? I was thinking!”
“Then spit it out already! Don’t just keep it locked inside that head of yours!”
“Ah, fine, fine. I’ll talk while we move.”
Deathbringer steadied his body and mind through the familiar back-and-forth of conversation. Once the panic receded, he finally began to see what he needed to see.
“First of all, the stand-in doesn’t go in.”
How had the enemy known the Demon Knight would come? There were two main possibilities.
They had prepared from the moment the Demon Knight landed on the island. Or a spy at the secret harbor had reported that they might come here.
“Hey, mister. When did preparations for the ritual to awaken the Great Demon start?”
“That… I think it was the day before yesterday.”
The day before yesterday. Two days ago. Around the time they had left the secret harbor. In that case, the ones occupying Ayu Hin had most likely scrambled to prepare after hearing the spy’s report from the secret harbor.
“Then they probably know about us too…”
Whether there was a traitor among the operation meeting attendees, or someone had eavesdropped, or they had simply reported seeing them leave the harbor—the fact that the Demon Knight and the rest of them had left together would have been passed on.
It was safe to assume the existence of infiltrators besides the Demon Knight was already known.
“Did you overhear anything about countermeasures against infiltrators, anything like that?”
“Nothing that clear…”
“Even something similar is fine.”
“I don’t think so… Ah, those bastards did say something about how even if a few rat bastards snuck in, they’d just become zombie chow.”
Right. So they had known. The fact that they still let them come here meant…
“Were the jailers disciplined?”
“Ha, those guys were pirates until just recently. You think they know what discipline is?”
It was either a trap, or the result of lax security. For example, they hadn’t known the route so they just ordered heavy guards, and the underlings went “eh, whatever” and ignored it.
“Good.”
And to his eyes it looked like the latter. The way they had fallen for the act without much suspicion, and the attitude of the ones standing watch earlier, had not been particularly sharp.
Of course it could still have been a trap meant to lure them here. But if it really were a trap, why had nothing happened since their arrival?
In other words, this was clearly the price of loose discipline. They were the lucky ones who had seized that absurd coincidence.
“Hey, Miss Thickskull. Is there anything on this guy? A curse, magic, anything?”
“Nothing. I am certain of it.”
“Good.”
That also lowered the chance that their guide was a demon worshiper’s plant or an unwitting tracker.
Deathbringer picked up the lock and locked them back in. The people inside screamed, thinking they had been abandoned, but this was no time to spare their feelings.
“We move before people wake up.”
“Through the secret passage?”
“We’re not taking the way we came.”
“Then?”
It was not certain that the enemy did not know the route. So he quickly discarded the path they had used.
“Sorry, but I didn’t share every piece of information with you.”
Instead, as a precaution, he recalled the locations of the hideouts he alone had been told about. He could only hope that the merchant or the guard captain who had given him those hideouts were not traitors.
“Are you sure this is all right?”
“You think this is my first job? Always leave as many escape routes as possible. When you do this kind of work, you run into this shit all the time.”
“Damn it, I’ve been through more of it than you.”
“Then shut up and follow.”
Deathbringer cut off everyone else’s opinions and grabbed the man’s arm, forcing him to match his pace. The man, who looked as though he had not even drunk thin gruel, seemed hard-pressed to keep up, but every second counted.
“We go somewhere safe first, then make the next plan.”
Would the Demon Knight hold out until then? The unspeakable anxiety was swallowed back down his throat.
Luquan opened her eyes to a dull ache. Clink. The thin sound of chains echoed in her ears.
“……!”
At the same time her mind snapped fully awake. Events from before her consciousness had flickered out were racing through her head in rapid sequence.
She had clearly fallen back, leaving the Demon Knight behind, and had been trying to slip past the guards to search something like an office when…
“Finally awake, kitty?”
She gritted her teeth at the demeaning nickname that reduced a human to a mere beast. There was no need to look at the situation. Of course—standing before her was a face that even a five-year-old Yabadin child would know!
“Pirate King…!”
The sun-darkened skin unique to seafarers, the missing left ear, the hair shaved clean on one side because of the scar that cut across the left scalp.
His identity was unmistakable. The devil spawn Bipurit, who would have been aborted and boiled for stew if only his mother had known she was pregnant a little sooner.
“I didn’t expect you to wake first, but it doesn’t matter either way.”
So she had been captured by that disgusting turncoat after all. That was fine.
She had joined this path ready to die. What mattered was whether she could tear that bastard’s sail to shreds.
And there was only one person who could tear that damned demon’s sail to shreds.
“Looking for your knight, are you?”
Where was the Demon Knight now—that elegant monster who had torn apart the sea beast and sunk several ships? Had he failed as well?
“The knight you’re looking for is right over there.”
At her gesture someone approached and seized her face. They seemed intent on forcing her head around; she was a Shagi.
Among the human races, the Shagi were the ones whose physical ability alone stood supreme.
Crunch!
So she violently shook off the grip and bit down hard on the opposite hand in return. Apparently the person hadn’t been wearing gauntlets; she felt skin and muscle puncture beneath her teeth.
“Aaaaargh!”
A scream burst out. The expression of Bipurit, who had been smiling with that constantly sickening pretense of benevolence, turned cold.
“Get rid of him.”
At her single word something swung through the air. Thud! The sound of a skull cracking, a spray of blood, the reek of it flooding out—and the scream was gone.
Thump.
At Luquan’s feet sprawled the corpse of what had once been a handsome young man.
“Hold her.”
There was no time to be shocked. Hands far rougher and more forceful seized her head. This time she could not resist. The difference in strength was too great.
“Come now, you should look carefully. After all, this is the knight who will take you.”
In the end she was forced to turn her head. She had expected it, but in the corner of the room she was compelled to see, a truly horrific ritual was underway.
“You octopus-fucking bastard…!”
Corpses piled all around, the blood pouring from those chunks of meat, and the magic circle drinking that blood while continuously radiating an ominous light.
And at the center of that circle was a face she had grown fairly familiar with over the past day. The Demon Knight she had trusted so completely.
“What are you doing to him?!”
“Sending him back to where he originally belongs. A vessel is only a vessel; what matters is the contents. The vessel must never become the main thing.”
Contents? Vessel? She half grasped something, yet could not fully understand. Knowledge of magic was the exclusive domain of the Magic Tower and rarely spread among common folk.
But she was certain of one thing: this was by no means a good thing. Clank! Luquan’s body shook violently. Yet even a frame nearly a hundred ninety centimeters tall could not overcome shackles and chains.
“Don’t worry. You don’t need to know much. Once the true master of that flesh awakens, you need only die as His amusement.”
Damn it, who would stay still after hearing that? Luquan increased the intensity of her resistance. But the manacles and the hands gripping her head allowed none of her defiance to succeed.
“More than that, it’s such a shame. If he weren’t the Great Demon’s vessel, he has a face that would be lovely to keep at my side…”
“An old bastard lusting after young men—must be nice for you.”
His habit of seizing every pretty, handsome man and dragging them into his bedchamber was already notorious throughout this land. As was the fact that they died for even the smallest mistakes.
Luquan spat with pure contempt. The spit didn’t reach the damned devil spawn’s face, but it did land on his clothes.
“You dare…”
Rustle.
Just as Bipurit’s eyes were about to roll back, a thin, crumbling presence stirred.
The hair that had been divided into gray and black turned entirely black the very next instant.
As the upper body rose, from the roots to the tips, pure black—like a drop of ink spreading through water—swallowed every color that had straddled the border of white and black.
“Ahh, at last.”
As though a demon had taken control of him.
“One of the 72 Demon Knights, Focalor, pays homage to Wrath.”
Luquan thought she had dyed her hair black for nothing. She had chosen the color because it was the most common hair color in this land, yet the dye had finished setting at this exact moment.
“The sacrifice has been prepared, so please indulge to your heart’s content.”
…But was it really the dye? The time when the dye should have taken effect had long since passed. Even with a constitution that magic did not work well on, the color should already have changed and then some.
Yet the hair color had changed precisely at the moment of awakening—was that truly just a side effect?
“Ah.”
In that instant, the one who had awakened finally made the first sound. It was as weak as a newborn’s, as short as a dying man’s last breath.
Then an iron-clad arm rose and pressed against his head—the motion one made when the skull ached. The vacant gaze staring into empty air and the furrowed brow reinforced the guess.
“Perhaps Your head aches? It may be the aftereffect of being forcibly awakened, so allow me to examine You.”
Someone stepped out from the wall Luquan had not been paying attention to. The figure that had been standing there like a shadow was dressed in a way anyone could recognize as a demon worshiper.
“First, take my hand and stand—”
Shnk!
“Guh!”
Had the demon worshiper reached out to support the Demon Knight?
The moment he took that hand and rose, something jutted out through the demon worshiper’s back. A blood-smeared blade.
Everyone in the hall stiffened.
“Listen.”
And the one who had so easily seized the initiative finally spoke.
“I don’t particularly like other people touching my body.”
Oddly enough, the voice was truly gentle.
“So next time, be more careful, won’t you?”
It was a voice so gentle that, even after only a single day, she could swear the Demon Knight would never speak that way.
“Hmm.”
As the blade was withdrawn, the demon worshiper’s body crashed to the floor. So did Luquan’s hope.
Whatever those devil bastards had done, the Demon Knight was no longer on their side. There would be no path forward for them now.
“G-Great Demon, why…”
Just as the dead demon worshiper had stood silently against the wall until now, someone else who had been waiting in a similar fashion opened their mouth.
At that, the Demon Knight’s… no, the thing occupying that body tilted its head.
“Were you asking me a question just now?”
Even in this situation the voice was quite nice. Having given up, she looked for a light joke. It wasn’t empty praise.
Until now the seething emotions and the razor-honed killing intent carried in the voice had always come first, so she had never properly registered the voice itself…
“Interesting.”
With all of that stripped away, the voice was indeed rather affectionate and soft, a beautiful tone. The kind that could win a person’s favor with the voice alone.
Looking back, the face from which the wrinkles carved by irritation and the shadows planted by some unknown rage had vanished gave a similar impression.
With a clear, radiant smile resting on pale cheeks, only a young, handsome youth remained in that place.
If not for the blood that had spattered his cheek while he stabbed the demon worshiper to death, she might have called the face pastoral.
“P-please forgive me.”
“I’m generous, so yes. I’ll accept it.”
“Ah…! Thank you, thank y—”
But that was only the outer shell in the end.
Shnk!
“Accept it or not.”
“Guh!”
After stabbing another one to death, he looked around with that gentle smile now steeped in blood. Thin scraps of red flesh clung to the dagger in his hand.
The contradiction made the sight utterly horrific. Physiological terror began to prickle up in tiny beads.
“So, um. What did you say your name was… Portugal?”
“…It is Focalor.”
“Right, Focalor. Are you angry, by any chance?”
“How could I be? Everything in this castle, this city, is a sacrifice prepared for Gretchen.”
“Right, right…”
In the meantime, the mass of malice smiled even more prettily, as though satisfied.
“Then this too?”
And at last, its gaze landed on her.
“Of course.”
She felt death truly right in front of her nose.
“Hmm, a kitty, is it?”
The one who approached lightly brushed the back of his left hand across her right cheek.
If she wanted she could have bitten the hand like before, yet Luquan could not bring herself to do it. It felt as though an intangible pressure was pinning her body down.
There was nothing she could do except stay still. Terror rode her veins and seized her entire body.
“You said this castle is for me as well?”
“Yes.”
“I see, is that so…”
Bipurit and that thing exchanged words. What they were thinking, who knew. Even if she lifted her head she would meet that face, yet she lacked the courage to look.
“I like cats… so let her go.”
And then, out of nowhere, the order fell. The heart that had been waiting for death began to beat to a different rhythm.
“Pardon? L-let her go?”
“…Were you asking me a question just now?”
“Release her at once.”
Clink—the key was hastily thrust into the shackles. Along with it rose a fragile hope named “maybe.”
Luquan hurriedly looked up at the Demon Knight’s face.
“It’s a game of tag, kitty.”
Her expectations collapsed at once.
“If you don’t get as far away as possible while I count to thirty… I’ll kill you.”
There was only a demon cloaked in black, ominous energy from the very beginning.