Contract (3)

Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I wiped it away and pretended nothing was wrong.

The party was watching, and I had forced a fine showing precisely because they doubted what I could do.

The ability's good. The price, though... the cost-efficiency is terrible.

On the status window, I selected Battlefield Interference lv.1.

Battlefield Interference. By twisting the circumstances of a fight, I could drag the flow wherever I wanted it. The range was wide, and the cooldown was such that if I simply never switched the ability off, I could keep it running without a break. Bending an entire battlefield wholly to my will was too much to ask, but even this much was absurdly broken. I knew that from having felt it myself. Before the possession, it had been a special skill I leaned on constantly.

Of course, it was not the sort of cheat that came with no price at all. The penalty on me now was hemoptysis. I was still in the early stretch of using it, and the law I had adjusted was at its weakest, so it stopped there. The longer I kept it up, the more penalties would crust over me. Put simply, the longer I dragged a fight out, the greater the chance I would fold first and destroy myself. How dangerous a risk like that was on a battlefield needed no explaining.

There is a minimum safeguard, at least...

A safeguard meant only that I would not fall into the absolute worst state. Being knocked out of the fight was the same either way, so it was hardly something to trust.

For now, the only penalty stacked on me was the blood. I could still use the ability two or three more times — enough to finish what monsters remained. I drew my sword and set about clearing the wounded ones.

"The rest of you, get over here and help! We have to kill the monsters and get the people out!"

"......"

I glanced back at the party. They were still wearing blank faces. Serena's mouth hung open in plain awe of what I had done. Vivian scrubbed at both eyes, as if she might have seen it wrong. Freyja only blinked — and then a fierce smile broke across her face, and she came running to cut the monsters down.

Two gargoyles swept in along her flanks. Freyja dropped her torso as low as it would go, then sprang, slipping both attacks, and a clean kick carried through the air to drop them in a single blow. She looked at me and laughed.

"I like it. Those gargoyles are dancing on their own, like they've gone stupid."

"So you've given up on killing me?"

In answer she drove a fist past my side. A tremendous rush of air grazed my ear, and the orc that had been about to bring an axe down on my back folded in at the torso and toppled backward. She grinned, playful.

"Yeah. You're definitely not all talk. I'll give you that."

"Well, I'm honored."

"At least following you around while treating you like a leader might be worth the trouble."

Her acknowledgment pulled a smile out of me too. She hadn't accepted me simply for the strength I'd shown just now, of course. What I had done was something even Vivian could manage with magic if she cared to. What Freyja had seen was potential — the chance that I would grow stronger from here, and the minimum strength it took to carry a leader's role. Those pieces lined up well enough that, for the moment, I looked worth following.

For now, that's enough.

I watched her tongue trace her lip, then thrust. The goblin lifting a dagger over her head took the blade straight through the skull.

"Nice to be acknowledged. Now let's just finish this. We still have to get to Contract."

"Sure. Hey! Saint-candidate missy, and you, the little elf mage! You helping or not? People need saving!"

Freyja waved an arm and called Serena and Vivian over.

"People do need saving. That's true."

"Th-that vulgar woman..."

Their answers didn't match, but in the end they followed my lead and began saving the village. We had interfered before the monsters ever arrived, so the villagers' losses were slight.

"Everyone, please come to my side."

Serena spread a barrier with a holy art woven of divine power and sheltered them.

"Fireball. Wind Cutter."

Vivian cast without expression and knocked gargoyles out of the sky. The situation was going smoothly.

"...Why can't I hit anything today?"

"......"

There were snags along the way, but they were small ones. Clearing the monsters that had raided the village did not take long.

A brilliant silver radiance, and a transport scroll lay in my hand. When I checked the status window, new lettering had been cut in beneath the stat entries.

Two stat points in reserve. So a main quest really was something else.

A short hardship, a village saved, and two stats for it...

The quality of the reward was on another level entirely from rolling around a battlefield. I considered spending them at once and growing stronger on the spot, then shook my head and closed the window.

Using the spare points now would be a waste.

As I'd said before, the higher a stat climbed, the harder it became to raise. The gap of a point or two grew exponentially with it — and the moment performance changed even more sharply than that was just before the tens digit turned over. Nine into ten. Nineteen into twenty. Twenty-nine into thirty. The higher a stat went, the better it performed, and when the digit itself changed, that performance turned monstrous. Put simply: if a Stamina of 9 let you swing a sword in full armor for three hours, a Stamina of 10 let you swing for six without strain.

The fine details differ, but it's easiest to think of it that way.

Spare stat points had been a precious reward even in Demon Lord of the Crimson Flame. The standard use was in a plateau, right before a 9 flipped into the next ten. Agility and Strength had reached 9, and Magic Power 8, so I hesitated — and in the end I decided to save them. Raising a stat to 10 was roughly possible through effort alone, without a quest's help. I didn't like sitting on them, but in a crisis they might also be the one move that broke through.

If I'm lucky, a random stat-increase quest might punch the wall open by chance. Saving them is the right call.

That left a single reward.

"Hero, that is—!"

"A transport scroll? Those aren't easy to come by, as I understand it."

"And a multi one, at that. It isn't merely hard to obtain. Unless the imperial house permits it, simply possessing one is a grave crime. It's military property."

In the game, transport scrolls were fairly common. They were consumable, and they could only take you to a designated town, but unlike a Warp Gate you could move whenever you wished, from anywhere, and even slip a danger zone — a useful item. In reality, whether from the difficulty of making them or the ease of abusing them, the imperial house kept them under strict control and issued them to the military. Anyone who was not military or imperial was, in fact, breaking the law by using one.

But—

"None of you have forgotten who I am, have you?"

A Hero could fairly be called the imperial house's most important associate. It didn't matter.

Of course, Regina didn't give me this. The quest did.

That was a very small problem. Using a return scroll left no record, and even if I were caught having used one, Regina had already permitted me to use transport scrolls once before.

In the game the Hero uses them freely anyway. Maybe it's only natural that there's no problem.

I was still rationalizing when Freyja, who had been quietly studying the scroll, asked a question.

"Then there was no reason to drag ourselves all the way to Houndfell, was there? With a transport scroll it'd be instant."

"Honestly. This is why stupid barbarians— A transport scroll can only be used in a safe zone touched by the light of the Goddess Solia. In the gray zones where we face the demonkin, and in the borderlands near them, you cannot warp by scroll, and you cannot craft one with coordinates set. Is that clear?"

Vivian answered Freyja's question with a thoroughly pathetic look on her face. Was this morning at the Magic Tower still sitting between them? She was especially venomous toward Freyja.

"I only asked because I didn't know. You're awfully prickly."

"What did I do? This is just how I always am."

She snapped it out by quoting the brazen answer Freyja had given her before. It looked as if a fight might actually start, and Serena stepped between them.

"That's enough. At this rate we'll be finished without ever reaching Contract. Isn't everyone going?"

Honestly, it surprised me. From the way she had acted until now, I had been sure she would stay a thorough bystander. Still, I agreed with her.

"Serena's right. We saved the village, and it's true things have loosened up, but there's still a place left to save. We should go."

"...Hmph."

At the rest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of my persuasion Vivian turned away, settling her grip on her staff, and Freyja looked at me with a sigh. Either way, we were ready.

"Then I'll use the scroll."

I tore the Contract Multi-Transport Scroll, and in that instant light wrapped me and the party.

To be honest, I had been thinking of Contract a little too lightly. It was a great city, after all. The City of Mercenaries, with soldiers posted all through it. I had expected that by the time we arrived, the gargoyles and the monsters would already be nearly wiped out.

"What..."

This was not the scene I had pictured.

The city had become a shambles. Screams rising from beyond its edge put a chill through anyone who heard them, a chill with no name.

"H-Hero, wait—!"

I didn't stay to hear Vivian out. I ran straight in.

Serena and Vivian were short on strength and stamina, and that worried me, but Freyja was with them. They would manage.

I wish Leap were still there.

Unfortunately, the temporary ability granted by Battlefield Interference had vanished long ago. All that remained was the aftersense of having used it. I wrapped mana around my thighs and my legs at once, then compressed my body like a spring.

A low thrum — then a boom.

The instant I straightened my legs, I burst the mana all at once. The height was lower than Leap, but it was enough to reach the roof of a single-story building.

Mana... no problem. Condition normal. I can move.

I had only just come out of a fight, so my stamina ought to have been failing, but I was still all right. I kept crossing from building to building, searching for people. Finding anyone on the outskirts was not easy.

Then—

Clang. Clash—

"Move! Faster!"

Blades striking hard, and an urgent voice. I headed for the nearest of the sounds and found a crowd of soldiers engaged with monsters. Their gear was still intact, so the assault on Contract did not seem to have been underway for long. A small mercy in the misfortune. With the soldiers this whole, the damage could still be kept down.

But something about them was wrong. Rather than meeting the monsters properly, they were shoving them aside and shaking them off, forcing their way toward the gate. And they had drawn a circle around a single man, as if escorting him.

"Get moving, you incompetents! What are you even doing?!"

The man they guarded was the lord of Contract. A body swollen past all reason, and gold and jewels hung all over him in such clusters that every eye was seized at once. At a glance, calling him an orc, or a golden goblin, rather than a man would not have been strange.

"If I so much as get hurt, every one of your necks ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is forfeit!"

He was running. Waddling that bloated body, half-crouched, arms full of gold and jewels clutched to his chest.

"What are they doing...?"

This was a fight that could be stopped. The monsters didn't even number fifty. For a place called the City of Mercenaries, they could crush them without great losses if they only set their minds to it. So why?

The lord was fleeing in an ugly scramble.

"M-mister! Please, help!"

"L-let go! Let go, you brat!"

They shook off the hands of people who needed them, and they ran.

"M-misters... p-please, those monsters, just—"

"I said we'll come back later and catch them!"

"Aaah!"

The moment a soldier flung a child aside, I dove in and caught the child against my chest. Under the filthy cloak was a face that couldn't have been ten.

"Hey. Are you all right?"

"Y-yes... th-thank you..."

The soldier who had thrown the child never even looked this way. He simply fell back into the ranks. Before I knew it, the soldiers and the lord were making for the far end of the wall — a hundred of them, maybe more. Watching their backs, heat climbed in me.

I finished the monsters the soldiers had already beaten down and went after them, and I just managed to catch one man at the very rear.

"Aaah! Wh-what—!"

"You are soldiers, aren't you?"

"Wh-what?"

"I asked if you are the soldiers meant to defend this city."

He went silent. He could tell I was not merely asking his rank — whether a soldier, a man charged with holding a city, had any business running like this. Ashamed of his own state, perhaps, he stammered an excuse.

"W-we're not running. F-first... the situation being what it is, once we've gotten his lordship safely away..."

"The lord runs, and the people of his domain get saved later."

A fine-looking box was clutched in his arms. Belatedly, I understood why they were fleeing like this.

"...A handful of shiny rocks mattered more than people?"

"I—I told you, we're not running...! We'll come back, we will, and the valuables — his lordship said to prepare for the worst..."

The longer he went on, the less I felt like keeping even the minimum of courtesy.

"So if it's the lord's order, you don't care how many people die? Because what's in your arms is more precious? What — if he told you to throw your family away, would you? Because it's an order?"

"My family isn't over there!!"

He shouted it at me. His face was crumpled deep, and his eyes would not hold still.

"They're not... so I can run like this..."

Self-loathing. He screamed at me as if spitting the bitterness out.

"You want me to spend my life saving complete strangers? Why? Why should I have to?"

"......"

"I want to live.... Do you know what it took to get this post... what am I... what am I supposed to do..."

In truth it was little more than meaningless venting. When I realized that too late, the strength went out of me.

A waste of time.... I should be saving even one more person.

I turned away from him. Whether I left or not, he kept muttering.

"I was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠finally going to make my family properly happy.... We fought, and today I was going to make it right..."

I flinched. For an instant my body locked.

Wrongness. A wrongness I couldn't put into words. The illusion that I had heard this story somewhere before.

There was no real evidence, no clear grounds, but something had slipped out of alignment.

I ran. Asking him twice, or three times, would have wasted time I didn't have. Right now I was only running to wipe out this unpleasant feeling.

"Hero!"

"Hero, where did you go?"

Just then I met the party, who had been clearing monsters nearby. They seemed to have been getting people out among themselves. I shouted.

"...We have to find them."

"What? Who?"

"Mrs. Reece and Myu! I don't think she's met her husband yet!"

A child who was nothing but frail, and a woman who had never once been in a fight. In a city thrown into chaos by monsters, could anyone be more helpless than those two? Of course, it was called the City of Mercenaries. Maybe nothing had happened at all. I still hadn't reached the center, where the Warp Gate stood, so I didn't know what it was like there. But the anxiety would not fade. An acrid, scorched smell, and a faint scent of blood, clung to the air.

Kiiiirk!!

Kurk? Kurrrk!

"Out of the way."

My heart was in a hurry.

And so the Hero pressed on, cutting down monster after monster. Along the way, there were many people.

Each time, the Hero saved them, treated them, and asked whether they had seen a woman carrying a basket, and a child.

Fortunately, the harm from the monsters was not as great as the Hero had feared. Aside from the unlucky dead of the very first moments, nearly everyone was intact. Then surely — a faint relief touched the Hero's face. But he did not stop ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠walking. You never know, do you? The Hero could not shake the anxiety.

He went on felling them, one and then another, saving people as he went, when—

"Hic...! Waaah...!"

A child burst into tears and ran to the Hero. The child's name was Myu. The very child the Hero had been so worried for. He took Myu into his arms, and Myu, perhaps because she knew him from before, clung tight inside that cold embrace.

"Myu, are you all right? Goodness, the dust..."

Myu's state was beyond words. She had rolled across the ground; she was scraped here and there, filthy with dust. The child kept trembling, and she gripped the Hero hard. Then, sobbing without ever calming, she forced the words out.

"B-big brother... Mom... I can't see Mom..."

"You can't see your mom? What do you mean..."

"A monster took her... Mom said to bring Dad... but I can't find Dad... Myu wants Mom... hic... Myu must be a bad kid, so the monster took her..."

The child's words were a jumble, but the Hero understood exactly what she meant to say.

"Dad... Dad said he'd punish all the bad monsters... but I can't see Dad..."

The Hero left Myu with Serena and set off with Freyja to find Mrs. Reece. He did not worry over those he left behind. While they had been moving through the city, most of the monsters had already been dealt with, and if the worst came, there were mercenaries enough to stand as their vanguard. The Hero could run with an easy heart.

In truth, he could not set his heart at ease. He had promised Myu he would bring her mother back safely, and still the uneasy feeling would not stop.

Kark? Kurrk!!

Kurrark!

At the cry of goblins from a nearby alley, the Hero stopped dead. A familiar scent reached him. A faint stink of filth, and a rotten reek, and the thick smell of blood soaked into the city. A familiar smell of death. The Hero looked that way as if possessed. He did not even think to call Freyja, who had gone the other direction. Simply as if drawn by a magnet, the Hero stepped into the alley.

"...Mrs. Reece."

Perhaps. Perhaps it was only natural. The life of a mere extra, not even a supporting role — however it ended, who would care?

Was it because talking with strangers had been enjoyable for the first time in a long while? She had gone out of her way to be excessively kind, and had personally guided them to the carriage at the edge of town. The hour had run a little late, but she was fine. Surely her husband would be waiting near the lord's manor. She would go to his post herself, with her beloved daughter, and — ta-da — show him. A kind of surprise. And she would hand over the lunch she had packed with such effort since morning, and apologize.

She had dreamed of a sight like that.

"...Mrs. Reece?"

Yes. It was a dream, quite literally.

What if she had met her husband only a little earlier? What if she had not shown such excessive kindness to a poor Hero who had lost his way? What if, in the first place, her husband had not run?

Well... wouldn't our poor extra, Mrs. Reece, have lived?

There would have been no reason for the lunch she had gone to such trouble to make to end up in a goblin's belly, and no reason for her to offer her whole body for the sake of her daughter.

She was clutching the ruined basket tightly to her chest, as if it were a treasure without equal. Eyes that had already lost their light were looking at the Hero.

So... this is entirely her own fault. I'm saying it isn't yours.

You successfully saved Contract, and you saved a great many lives.

Hehe.

Well done.