A Dark Fantasy Spy

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As soon as I heard the news of the incident, I rushed to a village located on the outskirts of a city.

In a picturesque village where snow had blanketed the ground and a small river flowed gently beneath a stone bridge, a train traveled along the path between quaint brick houses.

However, chaos arrived in this serene village like an unwelcome guest.

At the center of this commotion were Lucia, a man, and a little child.

“Father.”

“Yes, I’m here.”

The man facing Lucia was a cleric.

Beneath his thick coat, he wore a black priest’s robe and a pure white clergy collar, clearly marking him as a member of the cult.

In stark contrast stood Lucia, clad in a white priest’s robe meant only for the Pope and saints, gazing intently at the cleric.

“Why did you attempt an inquisition?”

“It is because I am an Inquisition Officer.”

He was indeed an Inquisition Officer.

A selected talent from the faithful. A guardian of faith who protects beliefs, teaches correct doctrine, distinguishes heresy, and punishes it.

“Heresy trials are not bound by time or place, and conducting them on foreign territory is not against church law.”

Listening carefully to the Inquisition Officer, Lucia suddenly posed a question.

“Who granted permission for anyone to conduct an inquisition?”

“Director Petrus, who oversees the Inquisition, and His Holiness…”

“I mean, who gave you, Father, the right to carry out an inquisition here?”

The Inquisition Officer’s mouth shut. Lucia cautiously broke the silence, her expression tinged with disbelief.

“…Did you intend to conduct an inquisition without permission?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Father.”

Lucia admonished the Inquisition Officer in a low, pained voice.

“I may be ignorant of the laws within the Inquisition, but I know that conducting an inquisition without permission is clearly grounds for punishment. Surely you were aware of this?”

“Indeed. Moreover, I know that conducting an inquisition without proper authorization can lead to excommunication.”

However,

The Inquisition Officer continued with a firm tone.

“If there were unavoidable circumstances at the time when permission could not be obtained, even if an inquisition was conducted without authorization, neither excommunication nor punishment would apply. It’s an exception clause.”

“I see. But even if it is an inquisition conducted on a child?”

Before Lucia could finish her sentence, the child flinched in surprise.

The raggedly dressed child stepped back, as if diving into a blanket to escape the lightning, while Lucia gently extended her arm, either to protect him or to comfort him.

The Inquisition Officer, however, remained focused on Lucia, ignoring the child completely.

“If that little one is a heretic, then yes, that is indeed the case.”

“…….”

The Inquisition Officer quietly opened his mouth toward the silently contemplative Lucia.

“Now that the sanctification ceremony has not yet taken place, Saint Lucia does not possess the authority to intervene in the inquisition I am about to conduct.”

“…That is correct. According to church law.”

Lucia nodded, her expression one of resignation or perhaps acceptance.

But.

“However, even if one has not been blessed, I have the right to confiscate your scriptures, Father. Therefore, please hand over the scriptures you possess.”

“…Are you serious?”

“I am serious.”

Lucia looked at the Inquisition Officer with a slight intensity in her eyes.

The silent stare between Lucia, who glared fiercely, and the Inquisition Officer, who remained stoic, drew my attention, and I turned to Francesca, who stood beside me, clearly confused.

“…What on earth is going on?”

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you anything, Colonel.”

What on earth is happening here?

—

Upon hearing that the cult had caused an incident, I rushed over and was presented with a strange sight where an elderly priest and Lucia were arguing.

Just witnessing the clash between Lucia and the cleric was enough to give me a headache, but with other clerics appearing—possibly allies of the cleric—and citizens cautiously peeking, plus a child suddenly bursting into tears, it was pure pandemonium.

Ultimately, it wasn’t until the Military Police, stationed nearby, dispersed the crowd that I could finally grasp the situation.

“They conducted an inquisition in the village?”

“To be precise, they almost did it. They didn’t actually carry it out.”

Lucia, letting her tense shoulders drop, summarized the events that transpired.

“An Inquisition Officer witnessed a child intending to pray to the goddess of the north. The Officer attempted to conduct an inquisition without prior authorization, and I intervened. What you saw earlier was merely a verbal altercation during that process.”

“Oh, so that’s why you were arguing…”

“It wasn’t an argument. It was simply a disagreement based on differing opinions.”

I let out a small gasp and smiled.

“For such a small disagreement, you seemed quite angry? Although we haven’t known each other long, it’s the first time I’ve seen the Saint speak so sharply.”

Seeing Lucia, a naturally gentle and serene person, display such intensity was almost unsettling.

Having been visiting shelters on the outskirts of the city to provide healing and perform last rites, Lucia had dropped everything and rushed here upon receiving reports of an inquisition occurring in a nearby village.

Given that she usually sacrifices meal times and work hours for her humanitarian efforts, it was evident how urgent the situation must have been.

“I-I didn’t actually abandon my patients…”

“That’s just what I’m saying. Is it not? Does it prick at you, Saint? You didn’t actually just throw them aside, did you?”

“Of course not… You’re taking the joke too far.”

Blushing slightly, Lucia waved her hands in denial, mumbling about how she could never commit such an irreverent act.

“Well, at least it’s fortunate that it didn’t escalate to an inquisition.”

I joked lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

Beyond the window, I brushed the snow piled on the sill and filled three pre-prepared cups with hot coffee—one for me, one for Lucia, and the last for Francesca.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

Of course, neither this coffee nor the office we were in belonged to me.

This place was temporarily occupied by Francesca, who was about to oversee repairs on the railroad running through the village.

“You, who are aware of that, are very conveniently making a show out of someone else’s property.”

Francesca frowned slightly, clearly displeased. In order to avoid creasing her lovely brow, I tossed out a lighthearted quip.

“Administrator, do we really have the luxury of debating about whose belongings are whose?”

“…….”

In that moment, the corners of Francesca’s mouth twitched.

To avoid invoking the wrath of the Archmage’s descendant, I hid behind Lucia, using her as a meat shield while I took a sip of my coffee.

Having been dragged here to help with the explanations, Lucia tilted her innocent head, puzzled.

“Did something happen between the two of you while I was gone?”

“Nothing at all. By the way, why did that fellow suddenly try to conduct an inquisition? It’s not common to interrogate a child.”

“Ah, that….”

Lucia trailed off cryptically and then let out a weighty sigh, a short, sharp breath rather than a deep, dragging one.

After collecting her thoughts, Lucia began to speak.

“It was because of idolatry.”

“And on the surface…”

*

“On the surface, indeed.”

The phrase “on the surface” implies that when scrutinized deeper, there could be other underlying reasons.

Usually, expressions like this reference complicated entanglements of interests or narratives one would like to keep hidden from others.

In this case, it fell under the latter.

“According to the Inquisition Officers, the arrangement of items left at the scene and the composition of the offerings suggested that there were faint traces of someone trying to use sorcery.”

“Sorcery traces?”

“Oh, upon reflection, that’s not an official term. It’s just a convenient expression used within the Inquisition, and there isn’t really another term for it. How should I explain it…?”

Lucia turned her gaze to me, appearing somewhat flustered. It seemed she was struggling to articulate a term used exclusively within the cult and, particularly, the Inquisition.

As I contemplated the meaning of sorcery, I shifted my gaze to Francesca.

“…….”

“…….”

Francesca, slightly irritated, cast me a sidelong glance before bluntly stating,

“Why do you look at me, Colonel?”

“I was just curious if you have anything to say regarding sorcery. It’s not a subject I am well-versed in, considering my ignorance of theology and magic.”

“…….”

Only seeking me out when she needed something.

Francesca muttered to herself with a smirk before she seemed to grow tired of the banter and began to explain.

“The ‘sorcery’ termed by the cult is a slightly different concept than the sorcery taught at the Magic Tower. It tends to be—how shall I put it—more comprehensive.”

Francesca’s fingers fluttered as she folded her thumb, pinky, and ring fingers while extending her two outstretched fingers, illustrating some kind of example.

Relaxing against the chair with her arms crossed, she swayed her crossed legs back and forth.

“You are aware that the three schools of magic at the Magic Tower include a sorcery branch, correct?”

“Yes, the elemental, astrological, and sorcery branches. I’m aware.”

“The ‘magical sorcery’ defined by the Magic Tower usually refers to two types: defensive counter-sorcery and offensive curse-sorcery.”

As the two fingers alternated between bending and straightening, it resembled the motion of riding a wave.

“However, the meaning of the sorcery mentioned by the Saint is a far more primal and encompassing concept. It’s closely tied to astrology… To distinguish the sorcery denoted by the cult from the sorcery known as ‘magical sorcery’ by magicians, we would more appropriately refer to it as ‘faith-based sorcery.'”

I nodded, considering it, and then asked a question.

“So, it’s akin to the sort of praying that primitive tribes in remote regions do towards animals or natural elements?”

“Exactly right. How did you know that, Colonel?”

“I studied history, so I often went on archaeological trips.”

Francesca opened her mouth slightly, clearly understanding, and a murmur of revelation slipped through her red lips. Then, as if she finally grasped something, her gaze shifted toward me with an expression of sympathy.

“Oh, history department….”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just curious…”

“…….”

*

Brushing aside Francesca’s oddly scrutinizing gaze, I turned to Lucia and asked. Lucia, quietly sipping her coffee, politely returned my question.

“Yes, go ahead.”

“Saint Lucia, if what the Administrator just said is true, does it mean that the child the Inquisition Officer was going to interrogate was actually caught trying to perform some form of sorcery?”

“That is correct.”

Lucia nodded as she made the sign of the cross.

Setting down my coffee, I let out a quiet sigh. Lucia continued speaking clearly.

“Much like how it is said at the Magic Tower that all items possess magic, the cult teaches that every single entity in the world holds a degree of divinity. This divinity could belong to the Lord or another deity.”

“…….”

“From time to time, when people without theological knowledge engage in prayer at home, incidents similar to today’s occur.”

“Such as?”

As I asked this, Lucia gently closed her eyes and opened them again.

“For the most part, such incidents end up being mere disturbances. An example might be a white beam of light appearing in someone’s home at night. Generally, these disturbances are fleeting and easily forgotten, with cases of injury being extremely rare. However, if blended with popular beliefs, the outcomes can differ significantly.”

Lucia briefly mentioned troubled cases involving people who mistakenly worshipped folk beliefs. She spoke of instances where spirits manifested and hovered nearby, or similar phenomena resembling the miracles performed by the clergy of major religions.

The key difference between the previously mentioned situation and the current one was that, in this latter case, the stories’ protagonists typically did not receive happy endings.

“The woman who called forth a spirit lost her body and roamed the city for three days and nights, causing harm until she was apprehended. An old man who spread false faith through sorcery was executed by the Inquisition Officer. Of course, the misguided followers who adhered to the false faith suffered the same fate.”

“Have all these cases been dealt with by the Inquisition?”

“Most such incidents are reported on the continent. I’m not sure about the Mauritania continent and the east, as there may be separate religions there. Nevertheless, the previously mentioned incidents tend to be the more favorable outcomes. If a demon had been summoned by mistake, it would have required exorcists, not just Inquisition Officers.”

Listening to both Lucia’s and Francesca’s accounts, it appeared that there were indeed cases of the ignorant causing incidents through misguided prayers similar to today’s chaos.

“Who prays at the Magic Tower? I thought magicians didn’t believe in gods.”

“They may not believe in a god, but they can still lead to accidents during their research or carelessly leave items discarded. You’d find all sorts of rubbish accumulated in the underground waterways of the Magic Tower.”

Ah, that explained why so much junk was trapped in the basement waterways of the tower.

I recalled the time I led the Royal Intelligence Department and the Military Intelligence Agency’s Quasi-Military Operatives through the underground waterways of the Magic Tower. Corpulent corpses waddling about in the water, creeping fog, and those vine plants sucking on rodents’ blood…

It had been several months since that shocking incident, yet now, hearing Francesca’s words, it felt as clear as if it had just happened yesterday.

It seemed like sleeping soundly tonight was out of the question.

“Now that I understand the circumstances, it seems the Inquisition Officer’s intervention regarding the child was indeed justified. However, I couldn’t just stand by and watch a priest intending to conduct an inquisition on a little child.”

“You have done the right thing.”

“Thank you for your kind words. Nonetheless, it troubles me that such incidents keep occurring recently…”

“Have there been many similar issues?”

“Yes.”

I looked at Lucia, bewilderment evident on my face, and asked.

“When did all this start happening?”

“It began after the—”

Lucia’s words abruptly cut off. A sudden look of discomfort crossed her face, as if she realized she’d spoken out of turn.

Lucia’s blue eyes rolled for a moment before fixating on Francesca, who sat sipping her coffee.

“Hmm.”

With a clink, Francesca set down her teacup with a smile and gestured encouragingly.

“I’m fine with it, Saint. Please feel free to speak.”

“…Thank you, Administrator.”

Grateful for Francesca’s reassurance, Lucia continued.

From what I gathered, since the bodies emerged from the rift, incidents like today’s had started happening frequently in the north.

“Why are they behaving this way?”

“Umm.”

To me, it seemed the ones who had been chasing mages diligently now felt wronged and were acting out in anger as if feeling persecuted all of a sudden—like an alienation, perhaps.

After all, who would dare persecute an Inquisition Officer or a Paladin on the continent? But to the Inquisition Officers, such matters weren’t particularly relevant. Faith is, after all, more about value judgment than factual discernment.

The real problem lies in the fact that the murderer of the Imperial Army Combat Magician was indeed a cleric. The Director of the Inquisition officially confirmed it.

Yet voicing this could endanger not only Petrus and me but also many others, so,

“Haah…”

“…….”

I resolved to maintain my silence once more.

Determined to stick to my silence, I filled Lucia’s cup with coffee, watching as her head throbbed in perplexity.

“I can’t comprehend how such an incident occurred. I truly don’t.”

“Such days happen in life, as do others.”

Lucia mused with a glum expression, placing her hand on the scriptures laid on the desk—the very ones confiscated from the Inquisition Officer who attempted to interrogate the child.

I gestured toward the scriptures she was toying with.

“Why did you confiscate those scriptures? They seem important for you to take them off that Inquisition Officer. Are they significant?”

“Oh, yes. They are.”

“Hmm.”

I examined the scriptures displayed on the desk and noticed they appeared similar to those carried around by priests during mass.

If I had to point out anything, it was that they were quite thick, making them inconvenient to carry? But then again, thick scriptures weren’t unusual, so that wasn’t too remarkable.

“It’s not just an ordinary scripture.”

Lucia’s voice gently pulled me from my thoughts.

“This scripture is a special one crafted by our cult. By infusing specific passages with divinity and tearing them, miracles chronicled in history can be invoked. They come in various forms, but for portability, we sometimes compact a few of the important passages into this format.”

“Why create something like this?”

“It serves a special purpose.”

Lucia explained that this scripture is specifically crafted and distributed within the Inquisition.

More precisely, it was given to those like Inquisition Officers, Paladins, Exorcists, and Combat Priests, who fight against evil.

“Of course, depending on the purpose, the scriptures vary in forms and methods. For instance, Inquisition Officers need them to be lightweight since they travel long distances and rely on the support of nearby clerics, while Paladins generally use them only in missions, leading to a comparatively heavier design.”

“I understand. Then surely Pereyti and other Paladins would…”

“Ah, you must have seen them in action when fighting at the rift alongside Sir Pereyti and the Paladin squad.”

“Is it the barrier thing?”

“Precisely. That’s the one.”

So, that was what it was. No wonder they suddenly tore the paper.

Now that I think about it, something had come to mind. Gently stroking my chin in thought, I engaged Lucia’s gaze.

“That… at the rift, right before the spider creature died, you spread a barrier, didn’t you?”

“Yes. You remember that.”

Lucia retrieved a book and placed it on the desk. Compared to the scriptures the Inquisition Officer carried, Lucia’s scriptures exhibited distinct differences.

The Prayer Book held by the Inquisition Officer simply bore a minimalist cross, whereas Lucia’s displayed a far more ornate cross design. The binding, too, differed – the Inquisition Officer’s version was flexible for portability, but Lucia’s was encased in a rigid cover.

Additionally, there were subtle decorative details engraved in gold along the edges, but my only question was one.

“Saint, you mentioned that this scripture is only provided to Inquisition Officers, Paladins, and Exorcists.”

“Yes.”

“Then why do you have it?”

Lucia’s mouth fell shut.

The words that had been flowing freely from her moments before suddenly halted, and a look of sadness swept across her features.

“Saint?”

“…….”

Could I have said something wrong? Wondering if I had made an inappropriate remark, I glanced towards Francesca, yet she too shook her head, seemingly as puzzled as I was.

And so, we waited in silence for Lucia to open her mouth, respecting her will to refrain from answering if she wished.

It wasn’t until the teacup’s coffee began to lukewarm that Lucia finally spoke.

“…I inherited it from someone I know.”

Lucia answered in a calm tone.

But,

The sadness etched in her expression made it impossible for me to continue asking questions.