The carriage rocked along a dirt road, creaking with every bump like it was carrying the weight of a dark prophecy. And maybe it was.
Kudaze lay sprawled in a corner, bundled in Alaza's [Spare Leather Armor Set], trying to catch his breath and not die. His [Jungle Skirt] was still underneath, layered like tragic underwear. His HP was still at a humiliating 1 out of 33.
The Captain hadn't spoken since that ominous "hm."
Alaza and Dred rode up front, occasionally bickering over whether a moose could beat a boar in a fistfight. The only other noise came from the faint clink... clank... clink of something shifting in the back of the carriage. Something heavy. Something locked in a reinforced crate, tucked behind some supply sacks.
Kudaze glanced at it.
'That wasn't there earlier, was it?'
The crate looked out of place. It had thick iron latches, glowing red inscriptions, and the kind of aura that whispered: "Do not touch unless you're cool with exploding into a fine red mist."
He crawled weakly toward it like a curious raccoon.
Ding!
[Warning: You are too weak to handle this object.]
[Touching it may result in your violent demise.]
"…Huh?" Kudaze blinked. "Did I just hallucinate a tooltip?"
He shook his head. "Nope. No UI pop-ups in this world. Right. That means... that thing's real. And dangerous."
He flopped back against the wooden wall, defeated by the crate's passive intimidation.
'What the hell is in there? A cursed weapon? A soul bomb?'
Inventory Updated!
[Jungle Skirt] – Equipped. I shield you from embarrassment. That's all.
[Spare Leather Armor Set] – Given by Alaza. Smells like sweat and regret.
[Pouch of Water] – Half-empty, but still precious.
[Willow Wand] – Starting item for Mages. Grows on trees, apparently.
[Mage Armor] – Starting Skill (Active). Status: Learned. Useless at 1 HP.
HP: 1/33Mana: 19/32Level: 1 (EXP: 0/300)
He sighed, sipping from his [Pouch of Water] again. Every drop was life itself. "I've been isekai'd into a game where hydration is a luxury."
Suddenly, the Captain spoke again.
"You're lucky, Vilvet."
Kudaze flinched. "Wh-why's that?"
"Most people who run naked through a military perimeter don't live to complain about the experience."
"…Ah. Cool. Comforting."
"You're not a summoner," the Captain continued, voice cool but not cold. "Your mana pulse is wrong. You're too weak."
'Thanks for the confidence boost, Captain.'
"But you've got magic. You're not useless. That wand may be a twig, but it's mage-registered."
Kudaze sat straighter. "You can tell?"
"I fought mages during the Steel Riots. Their equipment hums different. Yours is weak, but legit."
"…Wow. Thanks. It's the only thing I got on spawn."
"…Spawn?"
"Uh—birth. I meant birth. Definitely born with it. Like Maybelline."
The Captain stared. Kudaze coughed and curled back into the corner.
They rode for another hour before the forest gave way to flatter terrain. Through the cracks in the carriage, Kudaze spotted farmlands and distant rooftops. A village, finally.
But just as he dared to relax—
THUD
The crate behind him pulsed. Once. Deep. Like something inside just woke up.
Kudaze froze.
"Did that thing just… throb?"
Another pulse. This time, he swore he heard a faint whisper. A language he didn't know, but understood all the same. Words like "Ascension" and "Devourer" and "Ixaliam."
'Nope. Nope nope nope. That's a future plot waiting to happen. I'm not touching that.'
Kudaze scooted away until he was practically part of the wheel axle.
The Captain didn't look back, but his voice was firm. "Don't touch the crate."
"I wasn't gonna!" Kudaze lied.
"That's sealed by a Mage of the Seventh Circle. You break that, you might wake up the whole continent."
"…Wake up what now?!"
The Captain didn't answer.
Kudaze stared at the thing like it was an unpinned grenade.
'Okay. So I'm not just in a hardcore survival isekai. I'm on a cursed delivery route. That's great. That's amazing.'
As the carriage passed into village territory, a few curious peasants peeked from their homes. Children pointed at the dusty vehicle. A dog barked at Kudaze's face through the slats.
Then, finally, the wheels slowed.
They'd arrived at a checkpoint. A stone outpost surrounded by wooden stakes. Banners bearing the stallion insignia flapped in the wind.
Kudaze peeked outside.
Guards milled about, but more importantly—there were shops.
And inns.
And food stalls.
His stomach growled so hard it hurt.
'Civilization!'
The Captain stood. "You'll be dropped off here. Don't cause trouble."
Kudaze nodded. "Got it."
The Captain leaned in. "And if you tell anyone what you saw in that crate…"
Kudaze gulped. "Mouth zipped. Locked. Swallowed the key."
"Good."
The carriage doors opened.
Light flooded in.
Kudaze stepped out into the village square, battered, bruised, and still somehow alive.
He took one step forward—
THUD
The crate pulsed again.
A cold breeze swept over the square, despite the summer sun.
Kudaze didn't turn back.
'Nope. Not my business. Not my arc. I'm a side character. I deliver water and wear skirts.'
And yet… the pulsing didn't stop.
Somewhere, deep in that box of doom, something watched him.
Waiting.