The Smiling Courier

'Stubborn fellow.'

Volkan carried out his second inspection with unwavering resolve. If anything, he pushed his already-blazing inspection speed even higher — by now, his hands were a blur the eye couldn't follow.

It was a wondrous pace, to be sure, but it still couldn't beat a single click of magic.

The carriages piled up, the jam growing worse by the minute. And Volkan ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was in an awkward position, because the second inspection had turned up absolutely nothing.

Naturally, the guards grew testy. Their resentment of Volkan swelled by the moment, until one of them was grumbling insults about him right to my face.

Then—

The back gate's bricks split apart, and from the cracks, hundreds of magical implements burst forth. Hundreds of them — every single one a vicious, high-grade artifact — trained themselves on the stalled carriages all at once.

'Oh. So that's how it works.'

If even I was startled, I could only imagine what it did to everyone else. The coachman of the problem carriage had already soaked through his trousers.

"F-forgive me!! I—I was smuggling liquor in!"

The carriage's owner screamed with both hands thrust skyward.

"Tear it apart, every inch of it!"

At Bex's bellow, the guards swarmed the carriage, tearing through it like it was made of paper. From beneath the floorboards, a heap of tightly wrapped bottles came tumbling out.

"...The hell? It's just moonshine?"

Liquor — moonshine especially — was strictly contraband. Still, compared to an inspection where hundreds of gleaming artifacts came leaping out of the walls, it was a remarkably petty offense.

The guards looked thoroughly deflated. Then Bex thrust his fist into the air and roared.

"Ma-gic can sniff out even booze, I tell you!"

He strutted around like he'd personally uncovered the contraband himself, and the disappointed guards perked right back up.

"You can't find liquor with a manual inspection! That's Ma-gic for you!"

"Ma-gic!!"

The guards chanted the word like a war cry. In the confusion, people hiding among the waiting carriages bolted — the artifacts that had erupted from the gate were simply too terrifying to sit through. As the queue thinned, the guards' already-sky-high trust in me climbed even further, and Bex went so far as to call me squad leader outright.

"The inspection isn't quite finished, if you please—"

"Ignore him! Move it through!"

Volkan's treatment could only sink lower. He stubbornly pressed on with his second inspection, but there was no holding back the flood of carriages. One by one, they began rolling right past him through the gate.

'About time he showed up.'

Then a warm, ingratiating voice drifted over.

"Ha ha, a new face, I see."

A handsome young man tipped his hat in greeting. His smile was perfectly even, his manner pleasant as could be.

Bex beamed at the sight of him. "Ah, this young man is Colin. Handles supply logistics for the elite guard. Been keeping well?"

"Same as always, sir — running my legs off."

Bex and the young man chatted away in high spirits. Apparently Colin's usual conduct spoke for itself, because the other guards all eyed him with warmth.

I, meanwhile, let my gaze drift over the carriage the young man had brought in.

An utterly ordinary supply wagon. Not a single flaw anywhere.

The problem was that from the moment he'd appeared, my right heart had been pounding like a war drum.

'There you are at last.'

Elysium Academy was attacked practically every other day. The reason was a prophecy — that among this year's incoming class, the hero who would save the continent would be born. Which meant there was only one conclusion: kill everyone at the academy, and no hero would ever rise.

That was why the ones with something rotten behind them targeted the academy daily. the Republic's terror attack at the entrance ceremony had been the first strike, and the second assault had arrived today.

'The Demon Knight Order.'

A knightly order bound to demons by contract — men who'd sealed away the knight's fatal weakness, the curse, by selling themselves, and drawn demonic power on top of it. Demon knights felt no pain, and short of decapitation they simply did not die.

That said, unless one ranked at vice-commander or above, their aura was middling and their black magic middling as well.

Or that was how it was supposed to be—

'The real deal, then.'

My right heart thundered. These were men contracted to genuine demons. The level of what should have been middling scum had shot violently upward, and the cause was obvious.

'Damn you, Hard Mode.'

So Hard Mode's influence hadn't stopped at the Rifts. In a way, it made perfect sense — pull the Rifts' schedule forward and crank their difficulty, and everything downstream of them grows stronger too. The only mercy was that the composition hadn't changed.

"Don't worry — the inspection's nearly done."

Bex clapped Colin on the shoulder as he said it. Elysium Academy was absurdly, obscenely vast — so vast that so many students got lost that warning signs reading 'Do Not Leave the Paths' were posted everywhere you looked.

In a world without surveillance devices, sprawling grounds were a security nightmare. Anyone with ill intent who genuinely set out to hide was nearly impossible to find.

And that was precisely what the Demon Knight Order had set its sights on. They lurked inside the academy, hunted students, and offered them up as sacrifices to their demons. Worse, they left not the slightest trace behind, making pursuit maddeningly difficult. Cockroaches, every last one of them.

The way to stop demon knights was simple: never let them set foot inside in the first place.

I tapped my guard baton lightly with a fingertip. If I left my mana on his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠carriage, the Chairwoman would come. The Chairwoman — mother of witches, Archmage, one of the strongest beings in this world. Call her in, and the problem would be handled lightly.

Just then, our eyes met. A flicker of tension crossed his gaze.

I moved the guard baton. Light scattered from its tip and spread over the carriage — but this time, unlike before, it never touched it.

I blanketed the carriage in light just short of contact. Precisely short enough that the Chairwoman's magic circle would never trigger.

"Cleared."

The young man's stiff face thawed, and the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk — which smoothly reshaped itself into his usual ingratiating smile.

"Ha ha, thank you kindly."

He took up the reins. The horse shook its mane and clopped forward through the gate.

"At this rate, I'll be off work by tomorrow."

I tossed the line out casually, and Bex pounced on it, wheeling toward Volkan.

"Volkan! That's enough out of you. You're only here as backup — you've got no right to hold anyone up."

Whether he'd eaten enough of Colin's hospitality or what, Bex personally escorted the man inside. With the carriages already backed up and Bex himself waving them through, not even Volkan could stand in the way.

And so Colin passed safely within.

I stared quietly after the receding carriage, then spoke to Bex. "I'm calling it here for today."

"Calling it... here?"

"Got a problem?"

"...Of course not! Ha ha!"

Bex laughed heartily, then slid a hand onto my shoulder and lowered his voice. "How about transferring into my squad? A man like you doesn't belong in Unit 42."

Another recruitment pitch. I glanced at Volkan as I answered.

"I'll think about it."

"That's the spirit! Give it real thought now!"

Volkan stared straight at me. By now the guards treated him like luggage to be hauled around, plain and open about it. It had gone beyond being beaten by a rookie — he was being outright bullied. That rookie had even asked him to his face whether his parents were barbarians.

Any priest would have cursed roundly and thrown a punch by now, yet the eyes Volkan turned on me remained perfectly clear. A genuine saint, that man. At this point I genuinely had to wonder what on earth had ever turned Volkan into a berserker.

In the end, my attempt to bait him into lunging at me had failed.

But that was fine. I'd found the lever.

'His parents were the sore spot.'

Aim there, and it would work. But the pressing matter right now was the Demon Knight Order.

I set off walking after Colin's carriage. Milo scrambled to keep pace behind me, his face split in a wide grin.

"Haah, incredible, Big Brother. Inspectors are usually such a prickly bunch, and you turned that whole gate around in a couple of hours. That's gotta be a historic inspection speed. And not a single problem came up, either!"

Milo showered me with praise, thumbs raised, practically vibrating with excitement. I corrected the error in his statement.

"No problem, you say? There's one sitting right there in the open."

"Sir?"

"That."

I pointed at the carriage receding into the distance.

"...Isn't that the very carriage you inspected yourself, sir?"

"It is."

"Don't tell me you knew and let it pass anyway?"

"I did."

Milo's mouth fell wide open.

"If—if an inspection lets a problem through, that's your neck on the block! Your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠neck!"

"No need to worry. I'll clean it up right away."

"Clean it up right away...? Hold on — if that's the case, why not just catch it during the inspection in the first place?"

"Then I'd have to split the reward, wouldn't I."

"...Is what's hidden in that carriage a cake, sir?"

"No. Knights contracted to demons."

"???"

Milo blinked dumbly for a moment, then let out something close to a scream. "A Demon Knight?!!"

"Oh, so you do know the term."

"Course I know it!"

"You've dropped the honorifics."

"I'm your senior— no, wait! A demon knight — that's a knight who's made a pact with a demon, isn't it!"

"I'd say so. Being a demon knight and all."

"And you're saying one of those is in that carriage?"

"No."

"Whew, right, of course. I mean, even for someone as reckless as you, Big Brother, no way you'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let a demon knight slip—"

"There are demon knights."

Milo's jaw dropped. He seemed too stunned to even manage a scream.

I kept a lazy eye on the carriage. The supply wagon — supposedly bound for the elite guard — soon came to a halt.

Secluded, thick with brush, and out of every sightline — so perfectly chosen it was almost impressive.

Colin climbed down from the driver's seat and opened the wagon. Inside, supplies were stacked to the ceiling. He rapped on the carriage in a steady rhythm.

The floorboards swung open, and gaunt, half-starved men emerged. They looked rough — the sort who'd been sleeping in a box. With the grim faces of a suicide squad, they rummaged through the supplies, dug out their weapons, and suited up. Fully armed within moments, they climbed back into the wagon.

Colin took his seat at the front again. The whole thing had unfolded with unsettling, practiced ease.

"Sh-shouldn't we call for backup right now?!"

Milo blurted it out in a rush, his face drained of color. Given the Demon Knight Order's fearsome reputation, it was a fair reaction. They really were strong — and these men were stronger still.

But I had no intention whatsoever of calling for backup.

Those men were my precious quest vouchers, after all.

"I'm more than enough on my own."

"Sir? Do you not know what a demon knight IS? They're knights who sold their souls to demons! They wield curses on top of—"

"I know them well."

"Know them well, you say—"

"It used to be my profession."

I meant every word. I knew demon knights intimately.

Before the Holy Nation excommunicated me, hunting demon knights had been my entire job.

'...What is this?'

Raven had scoured Full Moon's archives for information on Grave. Full Moon's intelligence network could unearth a man's past no matter how he changed his face or adopted an alias.

Yet even Full Moon held nothing on Grave. The only intelligence to be found concerned his role in the elite guard — and nothing else.

'This man is a professional.'

Skilled enough to slip Full Moon's all-seeing eyes. Unwilling to give up, Raven had tracked Grave using only the clues he possessed firsthand: a user of divine power, and a fighter stronger than Raven himself. Following those traits had turned up exactly one result.

'Battle Priest?'

The Battle Priests had been the Holy Nation's attempt to fuse knighthood and divine power into a single vessel. As far as Raven had heard, the project had produced nothing but a mongrel of both disciplines — a failure, plain and simple.

The Holy Nation, a state built upon God, justified everything it did in His name. This was the same Holy Nation that clicked its tongue at black mages for their blind, corrupted faith — and yet it had quietly scrapped its own creation for being unethical?

'What on earth did they do to those men?'

Raven swallowed drily.