A Dark Fantasy Spy

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War is an extension of politics.

Politics and business are just a sheet of paper apart.

In the end, war and business aren’t all that different.

—

Episode 11 – No issues at the Northern Front

A permit for entry into the North has been issued.

Fact is, our trip to the Northern region had already been confirmed, but since we were here to support the Empire with large-scale troops, we couldn’t skip the administrative procedures.

The Empire formally issued the permit.

The permit, issued in the name of the Military Government Headquarters, bore the signature of the Minister of Defense of the Empire.

As I lowered the window, an officer in combat gear approached the passenger seat.

“Pleased to meet you. Which unit are you with?”

I handed the officer the documents, and after examining the Northern entry permit signed by the Minister of Defense, he raised his hand to lift the barricade at the checkpoint.

Of course, the inspection was nothing more than a pointless administrative formality, just like the permit.

And why not? Reporters were already stationed at the checkpoint in a military-controlled area.

Holding the steering wheel, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the farce unfolding before my eyes.

“Quite a spectacle. What the heck is going on?”

“That’s right.”

The reporters were jamming their magic cameras against the long line of vehicles queued at the checkpoint, and a propaganda officer dispatched from the Ministry of Defense was struggling to control foreign correspondents with a struggling translator beside him.

Jake looked at the propaganda officer covering a foreign reporter’s camera with his palm.

“What’s going on there? Why are they acting like that?”

“Looks like they’re trying to stop someone from filming. They probably got caught shooting something beyond the wire.”

The foreign reporter shouted something, his face flushed. Beyond the wire stretching along the Northern border stood a bunch of kids.

Looks like refugees.

Pippin, having lowered the window slightly, stretched her neck to hear the commotion between the foreign reporters and the propaganda officer.

“They don’t want us to see the refugees. They’re shouting at them not to shoot.”

Dictatorships are usually very keen on hiding their own flaws—like wealth disparity and human rights abuses.

They go to great lengths to conceal their domestic problems and only want to emphasize the positives. They definitely don’t want foreign media reporting on social issues that could damage the nation’s image. In a dictatorship, the state is essentially the same as the leader.

If the state’s image suffers, the dictator’s authority naturally diminishes. And a dictator is someone who clings to authority more than anyone else.

So, typically, situations like this often result in the heads of involved parties rolling.

Of course, I couldn’t care less about that.

“Hey, take a picture of the checkpoint quickly.”

“Got it.”

We documented all the procedures for entering the North. To be exact, we were following orders from the Military Intelligence Agency to gather all intelligence related to entries into the Northern region.

The form of the entry permit, the condition of the roads, the level of defense at the checkpoints, how many troops were present if any, the spacing between checkpoints, whether it was possible to jump over the wire, whether there were landmines, etc.

Since it seemed like we were the only ones with access to the North, it was only natural that we handled this simple task.

“Still, manpower shortage is a problem.”

“I’ll take a picture of the checkpoint.”

“Alright.”

Jake took out his magic camera to photograph the checkpoint. Surprisingly, Jake was pretty decent at taking pictures. When I asked why he was so good at it despite it not fitting his character.

“Oh, I took a lot of photos when I was on special duty. It’s a specialty of mine.”

“Really? Isn’t that something the sergeants who’ve been around for a while usually do? I’ve seen lieutenants and captains who can’t take pictures anywhere near as well.”

“When they were resting, I had to take the pictures. When you’re out on reconnaissance and you’re swapping shifts for a catnap, you can’t wake a guy up just because you want to take a photo, right?”

So that’s how it was.

With his old school skill, the structure of the checkpoint Jake photographed was simple.

The checkpoint, made of reinforced concrete, was two stories tall, with twelve troops stationed at each checkpoint.

The first floor connected to the road had a square concrete defensive wall, where the troops controlled the movement of vehicles and personnel.

On the other hand, the troops on the second floor were watching for anyone trying to cross the wire. A soldier, leaning a rifle against the railing, was peering through binoculars at the wire intently.

For your information, right beside the soldier, at the corner railing of the checkpoint’s second floor, was a mounted machine gun.

…Not facing south, but north.

“…”

As I gazed at the machine gun pointed toward the sky, my heart sank and I found myself licking my lips, when Pippin from the back seat nudged my shoulder.

“Manager.”

“Yeah, what’s up, Pippin?”

“I’ve compiled the data on the foreign dispatch units. I took all the photos—do you want to see them?”

While Jake was photographing the checkpoint, Pippin had gathered information on the pro-Empire dispatched units from allied dictatorships. This was also one of the orders given to us by the Military Intelligence Agency.

Pippin pointed to the freshly printed photos and began her explanation.

“First of all, as you know, these are units dispatched from pro-Empire nations. They’re all elite units resembling the dictator’s personal guard, and some even brought part of their personal guard with them.”

“The dictator sent his own personal guard?”

“Most of them received a lot of military aid from the Empire. Perhaps this is their way of repaying that.”

That was true.

The Kien Empire had been incredibly generous with its aid to friendly nations.

Especially notable was the military assistance. The Empire didn’t just provide equipment but also sent military advisors to impart their knowledge firsthand.

But considering that most of the recipient nations were dictatorships, it’s safe to say that the know-how was passed on only to the dictator’s personal guard or a select few elite units.

In that context, the dictators sending even a small personal guard must have exerted themselves to repay the Emperor’s kindness. It meant they were loyal enough to send troops to defend the Emperor.

However,

“But it’s funny.”

“What’s funny?”

“Check out their equipment.”

I poked at the gear of the dispatched elite unit in the photo.

What’s that.

I felt a bit bad saying this to people who were scraping by.

“Their gear looks pretty shabby, doesn’t it?”

“…Ah, yeah, I guess it does.”

Their equipment was too outdated.

Even in a poor country, personal guards and elite units would invest massively in their budget. They’d ensure they eat well, wear good gear, and get polished up and maintained.

However, looking at these supposed elite forces sent, their gear was subpar compared to even the standard Imperial troops. If I were to exaggerate a bit, I could say that even the checkpoint guards we just saw were dressed better. At least the checkpoint troops were wearing bulletproof vests.

“To think they didn’t even bring bulletproof vests. Did they forget them or something?”

“Yeah. They have chest rigs, but I don’t see any bulletproof vests.”

“What a sight.”

As I sorted through the pictures to return them to Pippin, Charnoy, who sat next to me, was typing away on a secure terminal to create documents.

“Nymph’s secret technique, pecking the keyboard…!”

“……”

I sighed deeply and turned my gaze to the window.

…Are we really okay like this?

Of course, no one could answer that question.

Just then, I caught sight of the road ahead leading to the North.

I pressed on the accelerator, and the off-road SUV charged forward down the road.

—

The road leading to the North wasn’t as far as I expected.

Contrary to the common perception that the ‘frozen land’, colloquially known as ‘the Magic Plain’, would be desolate, the infrastructure in the northern part of the Empire was actually quite developed.

Traditionally, the demons had been the enemies of the Empire—no, of humanity.

And from a military perspective, there are three key elements to leading a victory in war.

Information.

Communication.

Supply.

Historically, armies that failed to collect intelligence about enemy camps usually ended up being defeated. Admiral Yi Sun-shin achieved victories during the Imjin War thanks to thorough reconnaissance, and the Allies in World War II won due to breaking German and Japanese code systems.

Similarly, communication is vital.

No matter how well you gather intelligence, if it can only be delivered by word of mouth, you can’t win. To maneuver a large army like a single body in all-out war, communication has to support it.

Thus, even during the Cold War, the U.S. military actively adopted C4I systems for battlefield management and command control ease. They even went so far as to create global command control systems (GCCS) and CPAS to share real-time information. As a reference, the U.S. military intelligence agency, DIA, has a division managing that.

And the last element is supply.

There’s nothing more important than supply in war. This has been a tradition since ancient times and is often emphasized in both the Art of War and the Theory of War, revered as must-reads for soldiers.

In any case.

In modern warfare, nothing can take precedence over supply.

The Empire was not oblivious to this.

Over several centuries, the Empire’s military has built defense lines across the Northern region, going up against the Magic Plain, and the royal family had poured immense budgets into supporting the North.

Thus, a massive bulwark to protect the Empire was erected on invaluable terrain. The strategic importance of the North obviously still applies in modern times.

After all, the Empire’s only official royal branch was the Duke guarding the North. Even sending a powerful archmage, who could be preserved within the royal family, to the North spoke volumes about how the Emperor regarded that region.

But who said it?

“It takes a thousand years to build an empire, but it only takes a moment to destroy it.”

My common sense about the solid socio-military infrastructure of the Northern Empire shattered as soon as I entered the North.

“What? Why is there a traffic jam?”

After driving for over five hours, I was baffled by the congested road.

A large convoy of Imperial troops, along with the Cult, the Magic Tower, Abas, and foreign dispatched units, had been on the move along the road for hours.

Then suddenly, the road came to a halt.

“What’s going on? Is this some absurd prank?”

Leaning out to peek through the window, I saw vehicles and trucks lined up in front and behind. The large convoy heading for the North had been completely stalled on the road.

I turned to my subordinates sitting in the passenger and back seats and explained the situation at the front lane.

“Hey, the road is completely blocked. What the heck is going on?”

“The road is blocked?”

“Yeah.”

“That can’t be!”

Pippin looked equally baffled and checked the map of the Empire’s northern region.

On the secured terminal used by the Military Intelligence Agency and Abas’ Ministry of Defense, a map of the entire Northern region was displayed, filled with information collected by Kien Empire’s intelligence officers and operatives for the past five years.

After quickly scanning a multi-page report, Pippin looked up, tilting her head.

“Our current location is marked as a paved road. The road was originally maintained by the Kien Ministry of Defense since the start of the conflict, and it’s been used solely for military purposes since the Military Government Headquarters was established.”

“Meaning it’s been well-managed.”

“Yes, at least that’s what the data says.”

I opened the car door slightly to check the condition of the road. The mixed mud and snow created a dull, vibrant mixture that didn’t look like the well-maintained paved road it was claimed to be but rather resembled a disaster-level national road.

It reminded me of the terrible roads I saw during my deployment in Russia.

Jake, checking the state of the road, closed the door and let out a heavy sigh.

“Road management is garbage. What is this? Is that data even correct?”

“Uhm… turns out it’s intel updated two years ago. Seems they didn’t modify it since they couldn’t gather new info.”

“Two years ago? What the hell.”

Military intelligence officer Jake seemed to lose it. He was clearly fed up.

“Two years ago? Two years ago? We can’t even see the current condition of the road, and you want us to carry out operations up here in the North?”

Jake’s desperate tone was met with Pippin’s response as she poked him with her finger.

“Then what do you want me to do? If you’re upset, take it up with the higher-ups or submit a request for discharge.”

“Word is, they won’t process discharges these days.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. There are so few people that they’re not accepting discharge requests. The seniors who applied two years ago are still waiting to be discharged.”

“Discharge? Whatever. Let’s just find a way out of here for now, shall we, Lieutenants?”

I left the three of them in the car and got out. I needed to investigate just what was causing this military road to be in such disarray.

Thud!

As soon as I jumped out of the car, mud splattered onto my shoes and the hem of my pants. I had suited up nicely for our first visit to the Military Government Headquarters, but now I was all dirty in an instant.

“Ugh….”

I tried to wipe off the mud on the hem of my pants with a handkerchief, but soon gave up. No matter how I tried to wipe it, the mud splattered every time I lifted my feet.

Ultimately, I had to brace myself and move forward despite the stains.

I plowed through the muddy path. The crowd that had come out of frustration filled the road in droves, reminding me of the jammed streets of Africa. I carefully pushed through the crowd, making sure not to get too muddy.

After walking for a while.

After quite some time, I finally came face-to-face with the cause of the traffic jam.

A fallen tree was blocking the road.

“Wow….”

Sometimes when deployed overseas, I had seen fallen trees blocking the roads there. The situation was exactly like that.

Though not huge, the fallen tree completely obstructed the road, and in the middle of it, an Imperial truck was wretchedly trying to move its wheels over the trunk. Was it stuck trying to cross it?

Seeing about two squads of soldiers struggling to move the truck and log, it seemed my guess was right.

Approaching the military gathered around the truck, I noticed they were Imperial troops too.

“Excuse me.”

As I spoke in Abas, the soldiers turned their heads to glance at me. They quickly scanned me from head to toe and then politely answered since they realized I wasn’t an Imperial soldier.

“Uhm… I can’t speak Abas.”

“……”

What now?

The officer, looking like he was in charge, said awkwardly in broken Abas, “I can’t speak Abas.” His pronunciation was terrible, and he delivered it in stilted breaks.

The Imperial soldiers were nudging and whispering to each other in awkwardness. Obviously, in Kien.

“Looks like he’s from Abas.”
“Hey, can’t you talk in Abas? Please explain.”
“I can’t hold a conversation. I’m not a translation officer.”
“Go get someone who can speak Abas. Hurry!”

“……”

Thinking about it, they had no reason to learn a second language here. Perhaps diplomats and businessmen might, but it was unnecessary for the average citizens.

However, since I could speak Kien, I tried to ask questions, but soon a translator arrived, so I didn’t need to speak myself.

“What can I do for you, Colonel?”

“Ah, Senior Lyudmila.”

Lyudmila. The translator officer assigned to me by the Empire’s Ministry of Defense.

I was officially visiting the Empire for the first time and had only served within Abas until now, so I was utterly unaware of the Empire’s military situations.

And now that I was (forcibly) involved in military operations, it was inevitable that I’d face communication issues.

I didn’t even know the military terminology in use in the Empire.

“I came to see why the truck isn’t moving.”

“Oh, I see.”

After Lyudmila listened to the surrounding officers and soldiers and translated the situation in Abas for me, I already had figured out what was happening, but decided to play dumb.

And the current situation fell exactly along the lines of my expectations.

“So, you need to call in engineers to clear the trunk, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“To call in engineers, you need to bring equipment from back there, so it’ll take a lot of time.”

“Yes.”

“And to avoid wasting time, you were trying to figure out how to solve this….”

“Yes.”

“Given its size, you thought it might be possible to roll the truck over it, and tried that, but it ended up getting stuck on the trunk?”

“Exactly.”

“……”

“……”

Lyudmila seemed to have run out of words. It seemed she had no arguments left given how foolish it sounded to even her ears.

As silence fell and a strange atmosphere formed, the older officer amidst them asked Lyudmila if she had explained properly.

Sure. The explanation was solid.

Too solid, in fact.

“Haaa….”

I sighed briefly, preparing to return to my place.

Standing around here would yield no results; I would have to wait until the military engineers cleared the trunk before I could find another way to get to the North.

Seriously, is this seriously okay? That thought kept spinning in my head.

I was dying to turn back to the capital right at that moment, yet regrettably, that was impossible. The current lane was packed full of vehicles heading for the North on both sides.

Just as I reluctantly began to shuffle back to the car.

I witnessed something strange.

“Hmm?”

A woman was pushing through the crowd, approaching the truck. At first, I thought it was nothing unusual, but upon closer inspection, something seemed off.

I cautiously moved closer to the woman and softly called her name.

“Saint Lucia?”

“Oh, there you are!”

It was Lucia.

Dressed in an active outfit yet radiating a religious demeanor, Lucia stood in front of the truck with the fallen log.

Against the gloomy sky and muddy muck below, Lucia stood out strikingly.

“What brings you here? Where are the cult members?”

“The truck has been halted for some time, so I thought I’d come check if you needed any help.”

“Oh, I see.”

I explained the current situation to Lucia while pointing to the Imperial truck.

“This truck got stuck trying to roll over the log. The soldiers here attempted to push it and even tried to clear the log, but it wouldn’t budge at all, and now we’re just waiting for help.”

“That’s quite the situation.”

“I just called for engineers, so just wait a little while, and we should be on our way again shortly. Let’s get you back to your vehicle. I’ll drive you.”

I couldn’t let Lucia suffer the cold winds of winter, so I was resolved to guide her back to the vehicle. But Lucia shook her head gently with a kind smile.

“It’s fine. I can return on my own. And perhaps… I might be able to solve this problem.”

“You think you can clear the truck stuck on the log? Really?”

“Yes.”

With confident affirmation, Lucia took long strides toward the truck. She bent her knees briefly and then positioned herself to push against the back of the truck.

Of course, no matter how you look at it, merely pushing isn’t going to move a multi-ton truck. Moreover, noticing now that the truck was loaded with ammunition, accounting for its weight, Lucia wouldn’t be able to do it at all.

Anyone familiar with handling ammunition in the military would comprehend this fact, so the soldiers around her tried to dissuade Lucia. If a child were to do this, it might have been amusing, but this was a saint of the cult.

Recognizing Lucia, the Imperial soldiers were startled and frantically waved their hands. If anything were to happen to the Saint, it could lead to unprecedented chaos.

However,

Something strange began to unfold.

“…Huff!”

With a battle cry, Lucia straightened her back, and surprisingly the truck began to move a little. To be precise, even though the wheels still clung to the ground, the body of the vehicle started to lift.

And that wasn’t where it ended.

As Lucia straightened her back and released her bent knees, the truck’s wheels began to rise further off the ground.

By the time that happened, both I, watching Lucia, and the soldiers trying to stop her had halted all activities to gaze in awe at her.

“???”

“???”

“???”

“Here it goes!”

Within moments, the truck soared over the fallen log. It didn’t stop there; Lucia dragged one side of the log as she moved it to the shoulder and tossed the log into the woods nearby, returning to us.

In that instant, I recalled what Veronica had said back at the Magic Tower. Lucia had strength that surpassed appearances.

What on earth do they mean by ‘surpassing appearances’?

“……”

I stood dumbfounded, staring vacantly into space, while Lucia, having moved the truck and cleared the log, had returned to the road as if shaking off dirt from a shopping bag.

“Alright, all done. Let’s head back to the car.”

“……”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“…Ah, yes. Let’s go then.”

—

Despite all the talk and troubles, our road trip to the North wrapped up in just a day. We finally arrived at the capital of the Northern territories.

The name of the area we reached was Novonikolaevsk.

While Petrogard was the capital of the Empire, Novonikolaevsk served as the administrative capital of the Empire’s North.

The North, being the frontline and defense line in the war with the demons, had historically been granted significant autonomy.

Unlike some territories like the Tower of Nastasya, which dreams of independence year-round, or the already independent Ratuan Principality, which are merely called ‘autonomous territories,’ Novonikolaevsk enjoyed a different level of governance freedom by Empire standards.

We passed through the checkpoint of Novonikolaevsk just as the sun set.

My first impression of entering the administrative capital was unexpectedly mellow.

“It’s dark.”

The city was shrouded in darkness. It wasn’t only because it was situated at the farthest north and the sun set early.

Novonikolaevsk was entirely engulfed in pitch-black darkness.

The once brilliant street lamps stood still like dead trees, no insects even clinging to them, and buildings that should have brightened up for the evening were so dark that even the insides were invisible.

I cautiously navigated the icy roads, relying on the headlights of the vehicles.

At least the lights of the vehicle column made progressing forward possible.

“Are they under blackout conditions or something?”

Pippin, staring at the blue screen of her device within the pitch-black vehicle, spoke up. Her white breath floated through the vehicle’s interior.

“Looks that way. It says here that the demons started bombing and instituted blackout conditions three years ago.”

“What’s that? Old data?”

“Three years ago.”

Three years is quite a significant time. An administrative capital that oversees the North for three straight years under blackout conditions sheds light on the dire situation, making it hard to imagine how it must be at the front lines.

I rubbed my arms as goosebumps sprang up, slowly sailing on the vehicle.

At the heart of Novonikolaevsk stood the military headquarters. Responsible for the Northern defense alongside the Duke, it commanded the Northern military district: the ‘6th Military District Command Headquarters.’

Of course, this headquarters was now called the ‘Military Government Headquarters’ instead of the ‘6th Military District Command Headquarters.’

To put it more bluntly, it might as well have been called the ‘Martial Law Headquarters.’

After parking the vehicle closest to the front gate, I cut the engine and told my team.

“Let’s disembark.”

Now, we had to enter the headquarters that commanded the entirety of the Northern region.