Gunther shifted his gaze to the void before him.
“Saint. I’m only asking just in case...”
[The Drug-Addicted Saint nods]
“Your medicines can’t solve this problem the way they did with the Cult of Repose?”
[The Drug-Addicted Saint’s face slowly darkens]
[This divine substance is, in effect, the essence of Seren Mayra]
[Purification is impossible through a power that has not yet been fully restored]
“...I see.”
He had only asked just in case, and the answer was exactly what he expected. Yet strangely enough, his mind felt clearer.
“This is something I’ll have to solve, even if it means dying a few more times.”
If it couldn’t be avoided, then he would have to smash through it head-on. Gunther gave a short nod.
“Good. For now, I’ll focus on reconnaissance in this life.”
There were already more than enough leads.
The Holy Sword. A hierarchy member of Justice. Audrey and the mysterious duo. The platoon members and the reinforcements that would soon arrive from Border City. The Round Table knights. The Public Security Bureau and Edad.
To break through this sudden “zombie apocalypse,” every single one of those pieces would need to be placed with jeweler-like precision. Just as Gunther was slowly arranging that plan in his mind—
“Well then, may Their gaze remain upon you today as well.”
“And please take care of yourself too, sister.”
Audrey and the escorts left the mill as if there was nothing more to discuss.
Rustle—
This time, Gunther attached “Serpent’s Nest” not to Audrey, but to that duo. Meanwhile, Edad held his breath until their presence disappeared completely, and only when the silence around them became as deep as a grave did he finally sink to the floor with a sigh.
“...Your composure is unbelievable.”
“What do you mean?”
“You really don’t understand?”
Edad grumbled.
“How can you look at them and stay calm? My insides were turning.”
So it was about “divine resistance.”
Still, unless one had special means of protection, this was the normal reaction when facing high-ranking figures of Luthien. The divinity soaked into their bodies instinctively inspired revulsion and terror in ordinary people. With a grim expression, Edad rubbed his forearm.
“In any case, that thing in the glass vial... you seemed to recognize what it was. So what is it?”
Gunther paused for a moment, choosing the most fitting word.
“A kind of time bomb.”
“...A bomb?”
“A carrier of a horrific epidemic that could put not only the capital Zeros at risk, but all of Valloren, and perhaps the entire continent.”
What followed was a brief explanation about “zombies.” The dead rising again. Extremely high infectivity.
“Wait, wait!”
Edad’s face turned deathly pale in an instant.
“Then the children are already infected? With a disease no one even knows a cure for? And if those bastards want it, the children can become carriers in the blink of an eye...”
Gunther cut him off.
“Calm down. We still don’t know how far the disease has progressed, or whether it has reached the point of no return. We can’t be certain of anything.”
“...Damn it.”
“However,” Gunther took a breath and continued, “my allies are currently attempting primary isolation and emergency aid. First of all, we need to slow the spread as much as possible. Most importantly, the authorities must be informed. We need people. A lot of people.”
At the word “authorities,” Edad’s face twitched ever so slightly. If not for the mask, Gunther would not have missed that deep fracture. But as an experienced agent, Edad quickly concealed his agitation.
“I’ll report it. In the end, it’s better for a Bureau agent to act than for a foreigner to start talking about a disease no one has ever heard of.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
Gunther had thought the same. Nodding, he added,
“You need to clearly tell them the conditions of infection and the full degree of danger.”
“...Understood.”
“Then I’m leaving. I still have things to do here.”
Gunther sprang to his feet.
“I need to move fast.”
At the moment, all Night Raven members were active in the Lower City. If Edad made the report, then the kingdom would soon begin moving as well.
“In that case, Luthien will also have to move first to seize the initiative.”
The scale and strength of the Luthien special forces that had infiltrated the capital. This was the perfect chance to uncover their true power. That would become the key to stopping the “zombie apocalypse” even more efficiently in the next life.
“Since in this life, I decided to focus purely on reconnaissance.”
Gunther gave a short nod.
Tap, tap—
They did not exchange another word. Understanding each other’s roles, they simply split off in opposite directions.
Grr-r-r-rumble—
The roar of the waterwheels echoed through the mill district. Two shadows quickly moved farther and farther apart.
.
.
.
Edad ran.
The moment Gunther disappeared from sight, he ran even faster. His breathing was so heavy that every inhale and exhale felt as if it were tearing his body apart.
“Haa... haa.”
The neat buildings of the Bureau and the security service rushed past him. Marble columns, shining crests, walls symbolizing order and authority. At another time, he would have proudly straightened his clothes while passing through here. In fact, that had once been his original goal.
But now Edad did not even lift his head. He only quickened his pace.
“Kgh... kgh...”
The place he arrived at, face grim, was the Lower City, reeking of urine and mold. A place no respectable agent should ever be associated with. Yet Edad did not hesitate.
Tap, tap—
On the contrary, he moved faster.
As if this was where his true home had always been.
Deeper into the slums. Amid broken walls stood one “decent” house with its windows boarded shut. Edad did not bother knocking and simply pushed the door open. The woman sleeping inside jolted awake in fright.
“You...? What happened? No, you’re drenched in sweat...”
Instead of answering, Edad swallowed hard. Even though his throat burned, the first thing that escaped his lips was a name.
“Where’s Eva? Where’s Eva!”
“Eva? She just fell asleep. In the back room—”
Not waiting for the rest, Edad staggered toward the room. Despite the rush from moments ago, his footsteps had become terrifyingly slow. When he reached the door, he froze.
He stood there, looking at his daughter.
No—at his illegitimate daughter.
...At his “sin,” curled up on a shabby bed.
Edad, himself born a bastard. All his life, he had dreamed of fitting into aristocratic society.
That dream had made him calculating. He had a woman he loved, but the fact that she came from the slums was a reality heavier than love. He knew that the moment he acknowledged her as his lawful wife, every “chance to fit in” he had painstakingly built would collapse.
So he did not choose her.
But neither did he abandon her, nor could he embrace her.
In [N O V E L I G H T] that cowardly hesitation, Eva was born. Edad never officially acknowledged his daughter, yet he also could not fully turn away from her. He could not stay by her side, but he also could not let her go.
“Now isn’t the time.”
“Once things calm down a little.”
“When I secure my place in the service!”
Those words had always stopped in the same place.
Meanwhile, Eva kept growing.
The longer the days without a father stretched on, the more the child’s world expanded only as far as the alleyways. So then... the fact that she encountered a stranger handing out “festival sweets” was undoubtedly Edad’s fault.
The first child in the slums to catch the disease. According to the Night Raven agent he had just met...
the most dangerous carrier.
Edad rasped out,
“...I can’t go to the authorities.”
He knew far too well what choice the authorities would make.
Humane measures? A chance for a cure?
No. Those words were meant for “citizens.”
The Seventh Sector, in a kingdom proud of its chivalry, had long been a stain they wanted hidden. A district of criminals who had betrayed chivalry, and their descendants.
The moment the nature of the epidemic was confirmed, this place would no longer become an “object of rescue,” but an “object of eradication.”
A blockade under the name of quarantine. Demolition under the pretext of restoring order.
“Eva.”
Edad stroked his daughter’s forehead.
“Papa...? Papa!”
The girl forced her sick little body upright and pressed her face to Edad’s cheek. Despite the prickly stubble, she smiled brightly. Even though her breath already carried a horrifying corpse-like stench, Edad’s face remained motionless.
Only then did Edad understand.
The “life among the elite” he had desired all his life was the chance to stand on the side of those who would cast aside a child like this without hesitation.
“...Just her.”
Only for a little while.
He would simply take her somewhere safe. Somewhere there had to be a refuge where she could infect no one and remain hidden from the authorities’ eyes. He could report everything afterward.
“Just for a moment.”
Edad carefully lifted the girl into his arms. Her frail body was shockingly light.
.
.
.
And then...
Bang-bang-bang!
A sharp knock suddenly came from the front door.
***
Bang-bang-bang!
The knocking continued, growing more and more impatient.
Bang-bang-bang!
But no one answered from inside. There was not even the slightest sign of life.
Cheonmae let out a short sigh.
“No one’s there?”
She turned around.
“Hey, are you sure? You said this was the house of the child who got sick first in this district.”
Rietta and Yuria stood there with puffed cheeks, staring at Cheonmae.
“Maybe they’re not coming out because you’re knocking with such a murderous face?”
“If you knocked, the result would be the same, you damn axe-swinging brute.”
“Uuu.”
Cheonmae let out another deep sigh. She no longer even had the energy to smack these insolent juniors on the head.
Running through the maze-like alleys of the slums, finding the sick, persuading them, transporting them—and then repeating it all over again. The problem wasn’t just that “special disease.” Malnutrition, lung disease, festering wounds, drug addiction. It was rare to find someone with a healthy body at all. Just identifying symptoms was backbreaking labor.
And on top of that, this was the slums. A place that could easily be called a den of criminals. Before the groans of the sick ever reached them, they were met by the eyes of people measuring the weight of their coin purses.
Tap—
Yuria absentmindedly scraped dried blood from her blade.
In any case. After forcing their way through that exhausting process, they had been sending the patients to the “temporary treatment station” Parco had set up.
Cheonmae sighed.
“Listen, why the hell hasn’t the Security Bureau moved yet? Those half-baked twins supposedly went to report it.”
Cheonmae turned her gaze toward the border between the Lower City and the center.
Silence.
It felt as if only their allies were moving on this street.
“...Huh?”
At first, she thought a fire had broken out.
The sky in the direction of the city center strangely trembled and brightened. But Cheonmae’s sharp vision immediately denied that assumption.
The rhythm of the light was steady.
A wavering trajectory, regular intervals.
Torches.
Not one or two.
An entire legion.
Long streams of fire slowly rolled forward like a wave. And in the gaps between them, silhouettes could be seen. The details were impossible to make out, but the power radiating from them was unmistakable.
These were not ordinary soldiers.
Elite knights.
The instincts honed in endless battle quietly sounded the alarm.
The smell of steel.
The smell of fire.
“Ha... what bastards.”
The situation had gone completely against every expectation. Cheonmae could already roughly make out the shapes. Her mouth twisted into a sneer. Yuria and Rietta fell silent, and Rietta cautiously asked,
“...What is that?”
Cheonmae shifted her grip on the bow and answered in a low, dry voice.
“What else.”
Bright fury flashed in her blue eyes.
“Valloren made a decision infinitely far removed from chivalry.”
