A Dark Fantasy Spy

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It has been several days since the tiger, who had left the cave for a moment, returned and brutally killed all the presumptuous foxes.

As the whole family gathered, waiting for the new year to arrive, we endured the cold winter.

I went to the cathedral to speak with the priest.

“It’s been a while.”

“Good to see you, Priest Rebecca.”

We sat in a rather modest posture on the chairs scattered in the spacious place, facing the chancel where the choir and altar were set up.

The cathedral was large and magnificent.

The four massive rectangular stone pillars supporting the ceiling resembled those of Sacré-Cœur Cathedral that I had seen while working as an administrative staff at the Korean Embassy. The religious paintings on the ceiling were intricately detailed, evoking the sophisticated harmony of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel.

In the northern metropolis.

Not the central city of Novo Nikolayevsk, the largest in the North and administrative capital, but the cathedral built in the heart of the second-largest city clearly represented the authority and glory of the cult.

I sat in the front row closest to the chancel and started a conversation with Priest Rebecca, seated in the same row across the aisle.

“It’s been a long time since I visited the cathedral; I used to come often.”

“Were you a believer?”

“Not really. I used to take my unit members here every weekend.”

Since religious facilities naturally draw large crowds, meeting with Rebecca in the cathedral was the most convenient way for us to connect. However, we purposefully sat apart across the aisle, promising to only look forward and not at each other, in case the Empire’s information agency was watching us.

I carefully opened my mouth while fixing my gaze straight ahead.

“Priest Rebecca, about the apostate.”

“Yes?”

“Have you heard any news?”

Rebecca slightly lowered her head in silent meditation.

“Not yet.”

—

Episode 12 – The Ultimate Sorcerer

There are two operations I am pursuing in the North.

One is seizing the black market through Francesca and pressuring the funding source to uncover the origins of the black magic used in the terrorist acts from Hormoz.

The other is collaborating with Priest Rebecca to track down the apostate and find out the truth behind the recent murder cases that occurred consecutively in the North.

The first operation has been underway for quite some time.

I had discussed with Commander Mikhail and cleaned up the minor criminal organizations. With the significant purge of small groups operating the black market, a genuine dark age had fallen upon the black market.

Now, Francesca is using massive funds and resources to fill the power vacuum left behind.

Taking advantage of the other criminals lying low, Francesca has successfully been ransacking the black market, allowing the operation to cruise smoothly.

However, problems arose in the second operation.

“What’s the problem, Priest Rebecca? Is the gathered information less than expected?”

“On the contrary. The issue is that the information is too plentiful.”

Priest Rebecca is tracking the apostate’s movements based on the network established by the Inquisition in the North. However, considering the vastness of the North, which is several times larger than ordinary countries, Rebecca is sifting through an enormous amount of intelligence.

“For now, I am filtering through the reports from our agents to see if there are any suspicious activities linked to the apostate. However, with reports coming in from all over the North, analyzing it all is quite overwhelming.”

“If you need help, feel free to ask. Analysts can quickly produce results.”

“I appreciate your offer, but I believe this issue has surpassed what a few people can solve. I’ll accept your good intentions.”

Ultimately, the entire problem stemmed from a lack of personnel, and while at first glance it seemed that the answers were evident, it was unfortunately not a simple issue to resolve.

In both the Inquisition or the Military Intelligence Agency, due to concerns over counterintelligence activity in the North under a state of emergency, they couldn’t allocate many information officers to the field.

Information analysis (as with most matters) requires manpower, and this shortage led to somewhat disastrous results.

“Well, there are fewer people for fieldwork, yet tons of work to do, especially with the need for undercover activities…”

With plenty of work but too few hands, it meant that two people had to cover the workload meant for three.

Being an unofficial disguise, they could not be afforded the protection under international law and had to act as ordinary priests to avoid raising suspicion from the intelligence agency.

Analyzing intelligence from the entire North while adhering to all these responsibilities? Even for a seasoned officer, that would be no easy task. Especially for a double agent that needed to deceive both outside eyes and inside scrutiny.

I could understand Rebecca’s situation perfectly.

So I aimed to assist her as much as possible.

“If I were the apostate, I would have escaped to a place where the Inquisition’s eyes couldn’t reach. A sparsely populated area or somewhere the Inquisition wouldn’t venture.”

“Somewhere remote?”

“Yes, somewhere with a shrine of a different religion that isn’t within the cult’s influence.”

Rebecca seemed to get lost in thought, slightly pondering as she stared into the distance.

“How many religions exist in the Empire? They may not have the same number of believers as the cult, but I’m sure there are other religions of considerable size. Perhaps they’ve hidden in a region where such faith is strong?”

Rebecca opened her mouth as she mulled over.

“In that case, it would be even harder to find. The ones who would serve as the eyes and ears of the Inquisition are, after all, those with true faith.”

“…Do you mean that the heretics wouldn’t provide information to the Inquisition?”

“While they don’t mean to cause any trouble, that is the reality. To them, the Inquisition represents nothing more than heretical believers of a different faith.”

“Especially infamous heretics, I suppose.”

“Especially if it’s that Inquisition.”

“There’s no other way, I see. Even if I were to send a request for analysis to the embassy or headquarters, it would be in a region where communication is difficult…”

“We have to be clever with our personnel.”

Countless solutions were contemplated, yet none of them were genuinely helpful. The discussion looped back to the starting point and it soon came time to part ways as too much time had passed.

I pretended to pray as I sat still. Rebecca, as a priest, naturally made the sign of the cross far more gracefully than I did.

Once she completed the prayers, Priest Rebecca cautiously opened her mouth.

“Should we meet again at the cathedral next time?”

“If we frequently meet in the same place, someone might start to suspect.”

I stood from my chair and paused for a moment.

“Perhaps it would be better to meet in public settings. Since both you and I have frequently crossed paths through the cult, the Magic Tower, and the Empire, claiming we need to discuss matters related to Saint Lucia would be an appropriate cover.”

“That’s a good way to play it. The Magic Tower…”

Rebecca seemed to reminisce about the past while gazing into the distance.

“Speaking of which, I remember assisting the Colonel with saintly efforts at the Magic Tower. Would you be inclined to join us for one of Lucia’s activities? That seems like it could be a good excuse…”

“Oh, I’m not sure about that…”

—

After concluding our information exchange and parting ways with Priest Rebecca, I decided to take a short break and look around the cathedral.

This stone cathedral standing in the heart of the northern metropolis, second only to none, was known to provide a majestic scale matched with a long, historical pedigree.

To summarize that tradition briefly; several hundred years ago, during the time the demon tribes of the frozen land continued descending upon humanity, threatening the very existence of mankind, a young shepherd boy suffering from a fever suddenly woke from his slumber one night.

As he forced his aching body to walk to the well for a drink, he witnessed starlight dancing across the fields and, as if entranced, followed it. There, he saw an exotic figure tapping on a boulder with a twig.

With each tap of the stick on the stone, moisture gathered on its surface, and when the boy completed the seventeenth strike, a small stream of water burst forth from the stone.

Drinking from this water on the highest hill of the starlit dancing field cured the boy completely from his fever.

The shepherd boy was gifted a twig by the exotic figure who tapped the boulder. A few days later, he set off on a pilgrimage, leaning on a small staff crafted from the twig he received and later became known in history for slaying the demon and reclaiming the demon’s sword: Saint Basil.

Despite any exaggeration that historians might claim regarding the might of the cult, the existence of Saint Basil itself is factual.

The very cathedral I stood in was erected over the remains of that saint.

More precisely, after Saint Basil passed away and was buried at his childhood home per his will, the later popes ordered it to be demolished entirely and a grand cathedral constructed in its place. Hence the cathedral’s name became “Cathedral of Saint Basil.”

To demolish the childhood home of the saint who slayed the demon and build a cathedral over his remains? It’s a decision I could hardly comprehend.

As I visited the Cathedral of Saint Basil, I thought to myself.

“…Isn’t this blasphemy?”

Even if we honor achievements, the pope elected by the cardinal and bishops, a mere ‘human’, would destroy the home of a saint who performed miracles and slew demons? Would this not be heracy?

Gazing at the walls adorned with Saint Basil receiving water from the stone, I pondered, ‘If the pope and saint met in heaven, would the saint have smacked the pope who ordered the cathedral’s construction?’

At that moment, the door creaked open and people began to enter.

They were priests.

Since it wasn’t uncommon for priests to pass back and forth at the cathedral, I turned my head to gaze at the murals when suddenly, I locked eyes with the leading clergyman in the front row.

“Saint Lucia?”

“Who are you… ah.”

It was Lucia.

Lucia, speaking with some elderly priests as she entered the cathedral, turned her gaze towards me upon hearing my voice.

I nodded slightly and offered a casual greeting, to which Lucia also bent her head in acknowledgment.

“Good to see you, Saint Lucia.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here. Have you been well?”

“I’m always at peace.”

Lucia displayed a gentle smile.

“That’s a relief.”

Having spent some time outside, a little snow clung to Lucia’s shoulders.

Although the North is known for its unpredictable weather, it has been especially cold lately, likely due to an unusual cold snap.

Yet, despite the chill, Lucia’s face was as serene as someone taking a spring stroll. Perhaps she is less susceptible to the cold, but at least compared to the other priests whose cheeks are red from the biting wind, Lucia’s complexion remained unchanged.

“What brings you to the cathedral? I didn’t receive word of your visit today.”

“I had something to attend to briefly. And you, Saint Lucia?”

“I came for a meeting, just stopping by for a moment.”

As soon as Lucia finished her sentence, an elderly priest standing beside her opened his mouth.

“Saint Lucia, who is this brother?”

I quickly scanned the older priest, who, like the others, donned a black vestment.

According to church law, nobody other than the pope and saints can wear pure white vestments, so I could immediately discern that this old man was merely an ordinary priest.

However, calling him ordinary was a stretch, considering the embellishment he wore around his waist. Unlike the black fascia worn by Priest Rebecca and the priests lined behind Lucia, the color of the fascia worn by the old man resembled deep red wine.

I bowed my head towards the man with the crimson fascia.

“I am Colonel Frederick Nostrim from the Kingdom of Abas Embassy in the Kien Empire. It’s a pleasure to meet your eminence.”

In response to my polite greeting, the elderly priest smiled warmly.

“Haha, there’s no need for such formality, brother.”

Standing beside Lucia was none other than a cardinal from the cult.

Much like the cardinal of the Catholic Church, a cardinal holds a high position, second only to the pope.

Cardinals possess the power to directly elect the pope, making their numbers significantly fewer than priests worldwide.

The bishops, managing the regions like local governments, are certainly not low-status either, but the cardinal occupies a position no bishop could dare to compare with.

Thus, the man before me was someone of the utmost authority, superior to any other clergyman, including bishops.

“Why would I not show respect to your eminence?”

“Please, you needn’t be so formal, brother. God is watching over us, so a humble servant like me cannot afford to lift my head.”

For reference, even bishops are not easily taken into custody, even by a dictator acting recklessly.

Therefore, political activities in dictatorial countries like the Kien Empire, such as protests, often occur with the protection of the clergy.

The Imperial Guard HQ, fearing public backlash, might place them under surveillance, but they don’t dare to directly intervene with a bishop.

Although it was a past incident, the fact that former bishop Rafael grabbed the collar of Cardinal Raul could have caused significant issues within the cult. However, Rafael avoided any repercussions because he was the head of the Inquisition.

No matter how eminent the cardinal’s reputation might be, it cannot overshadow the power of the Inquisition as a guardian of faith, despite the risk involved.

Typically, the Inquisition is led by a Bishop-level clergyman. The current director, Petrus, is also a bishop.

“Nostrim… what a familiar name.”

“It is likely that the person you’re thinking of is the one I’m referring to.”

“Ah.”

A sound of surprise escaped the cardinal’s lips. With a gentle smile on his face, the old man lowered his head slightly.

“I am blessed to meet a colleague of the Lord sent to this land. I am Archbishop Theodosius, overseeing the archdiocese.”

“Frederick Nostrim. If you oversee the archdiocese…”

“Yes, I have taken up the position of archbishop under God’s call.”

Quite a significant figure indeed.

Archbishop Theodosius, who manages the archdiocese of the Kien Empire’s northern region, extended both hands in request for a handshake.

With a kind smile, he firmly grasped my hand and asked the following question.

“Brother, do you happen to be a believer?”

It was an ordinary question, likely a common icebreaker.

Given that I was the only person standing in the cathedral so early in the morning, I might have looked like a devotee coming to pray. Perhaps even in the archbishop’s eyes, I appeared to be a person with a strong faith.

I would certainly seem less like a spy meeting with an Inquisition officer and more like a devout believer coming for morning prayers in front of a priest’s eyes.

Yet, the intensity behind the archbishop’s gaze made it feel like more than simple curiosity.

He laughed heartily and grasped my hand tighter.

“How amusing that a companion of the saint has faith! Whether by coincidence or not, I am unaware. Perhaps my faith has been lacking, as I have prayed for decades without attaining enlightenment.”

“Your eminence, I…”

“Do not worry, brother. Even if you had a different faith, I wouldn’t scold you. That would also be God’s will. Haha!”

“…….”

Suddenly being treated as a heretic while just observing the murals in the morning dawn felt like a lightning strike. Having lived two lives without ever having a religion, this was entirely unexpected.

Caught off guard, I stood silently, during which the priests following behind Lucia sighed in concern.

It seems the archbishop frequently asks such questions regarding others’ faith.

An older priest sitting in the front row awkwardly smiled as he stepped in.

“I apologize. Archbishop Theodosius did not mean any ill intent with his question…”

“It’s alright. He was likely just curious.”

In a world where the divine undeniably exists, casually inquiring about another’s faith could be seen as a grave faux pas. Such inquiries could easily come off as dismissive of other religions or distrustful of others’ beliefs.

Thus, it’s generally better in this region to refrain from open proselytization.

If someone were to loudly proclaim on the street or subway that those who don’t believe in God are headed for hell, a cleric from another religion could rush out and slap the proselytizing individual, or someone from another faith might throw stones at them.

While things might have been different in an era of witch hunts, in today’s world, even the Inquisition hesitates to act harshly against heretics.

Whether their restraint is due to excessive scrutiny from the international community or because they’ve been chastised by divine messages to stop executing people is anyone’s guess.

Regardless, the priests hurriedly apologized on behalf of the archbishop. Bowing their heads, they repeatedly conveyed their sincerest apologies and swiftly ushered the archbishop further into the cathedral.

“Why are they being like this? I merely…”

“Your eminence! For the love of all that is holy, please silence your mouth!”

“Haha, such irreverent individuals. If I’d been just ten years younger, I would have crucified them all. Haha.”

As I chuckled at the dark humor, the archbishop was drawn away by the priests into some recess. Despite his words, it seemed that he bore no real ill will towards the other clergymen.

Lucia looked on at the departing archbishop and priests, her smile reflecting warmth.

“You’ve calmed down a lot. If this were during your seminary days, you wouldn’t hesitate to punch someone for what they said. You really have mellowed compared to the old days.”

“…Do you know the archbishop?”

“Yes, he was my professor during seminary. He taught a course on primal faith and heresy. He’s also taught subjects like the history of the Inquisition and Grand Exorcism. I attended all his classes.”

“So he was known for having a fiery temperament.”

“Famous, indeed. There was a time when he hung a student by the cathedral’s steeple for sleeping in class, stirring controversy.”

“…….”

“What’s more, it was during the history of the Inquisition and Grand Exorcism. The student was said to be possessed, and the archbishop wanted to demonstrate how to expel him from a sacred learning time.”

I looked at Lucia with a blank expression.

“Why didn’t you convert?”

“Because I’ve been a believer since birth. My parents were clergymen.”

“Just convert! You can always repent later…”

—

After ending the meeting with that fiery cardinal, Lucia and I remained in the Cathedral of Saint Basil.

Lucia suggested that if time permitted, she would show me around the cathedral. Since it was still a little early and I hadn’t yet received any news from Francesca or Rebecca, I accepted Lucia’s offer.

“This painting depicts the moment Saint Basil meets the eastern wise man while tapping on the stone in the starlit dancing fields.”

The exotic-looking man with an Arab feel taps on a boulder with a twig, while a pale charcoal-faced child climbs a slight hill, gazing with astonishment.

Beyond them lies a vast meadow under an ominous sky. The brightness of the dancing lights and the wise man’s vicinity contrast sharply against the muted tones of the surrounding field.

Lucia pointed at the wise man painted on the mural.

“There are two interpretations regarding the wise man. One is that he’s the archangel sent by the Lord to give revelation to the shepherd boy. The other interpretation is that he’s the great priest wandering the world to vanquish evil.”

“The great priest. That refers to the most exceptional lay priest in the cult.”

At first glance, one might assume “grand priest” refers to individuals like archmages of the Magic Tower or priestesses of Mauritania. However, in reality, “great priest” refers to just one individual.

The most faithful clergy within the cult.

The one who has executed the most inquiries and great exorcisms in the history of the cult.

The mentor of all Inquisition officers and exorcists.

That’s who the great priest Lucia speaks of.

“I have heard of him, yet I’m not quite clear on who he is…”

While I felt no shame in my ignorance, expressing that discomfort openly was a different affair, thus I evaded the matter slightly and tentatively asked her.

Lucia seemed to perceive my hesitation and smiled back reassuringly as she spoke.

“The great priest holds a unique position within the cult. He is both an Inquisition officer and an exorcist while also serving as the archbishop of the nearest region.”

“A high-ranking cleric, then.”

“Certainly, but due to the rarity of his presence, it’s often ordinary priests from the diocese who carry out his duties.”

Well, considering the daunting tasks he undertakes, it would be hard to fault him for being unreliable.

For indeed, the reason for his frequent absences lies in performing great exorcisms. It is widely known that this figure has been driving demons and their summoned beings back to hell for centuries.

Now that I was aware, I nodded in acknowledgment.

“Interesting. Great exorcisms are something interesting to hear about. It’s said that scarcely anyone has witnessed it, right?”

“It is a taboo to publicly reveal exorcism rituals. Therefore, very few clergy members have seen one.”

Despite living in a world where religion holds great authority, I have never really cared much for this particular religion.

Perhaps it’s because I have seen too many of life’s darker sides, or maybe because falling into a different world led me to think that God didn’t exist—I have never once fostered a desire to believe.

Thus, I asked Lucia this question with a truly pure heart.

“Do you believe in God, Saint Lucia?”

While inappropriate to pose such a question to a clergyman, Lucia showed no signs of anger.

Instead, she only laughed as if it were an amusing inquiry.

“Well…”

Lucia opened the conversation with an ambiguous answer.

“If you mean whether I believe in an existing God, my reply would be ‘yes.’ However, if you inquire whether the only being I believe and follow is the sole sovereign of this world, I could respond with ‘perhaps not.'”

It was a peculiar response.

“Why do you think so?”

“The deity created the world but did so in an incomplete form. The reality is that humans, his most cherished creation, aren’t perfect either.”

Lucia turned her gaze towards the chancel, where the figure of the deity stretching forth its hand towards humanity awaited.

“While some think faith should be devoid of doubt, I believe otherwise. Faith must remain steadfast; love must not fall into crisis; certainty must not waver, and hope should remain steadfast. I think thinking in such terms is quite arrogant.”

“Why is that?”

“Humans are imperfect beings. How could their faith be perfect?”

Lucia’s gaze shifted to the mural.

Where her sapphire eyes rested was the image depicting her explanation.

“Hence the Lord always bestows us with trials and tribulations. This is a kind of test. In religion, it is said to be the greatest blessing bestowed by God.”

“……”

“It’s a single path one must walk, even if uncertain about measuring their value or their position upon it. And God, just like He sent a messenger to Saint Basil, always illuminates the path in our darkest moments.”

Suddenly, one verse came to mind. I recited it aloud.

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth, but the earth was without form and void, and darkness covered the deep.”

A dark warehouse—a dense shadow.

“But the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters, and God said, ‘Let there be light.'”

The light chased away the darkness and brightly illuminated the inside of the warehouse. An orc in smart attire raised his arms high, grinning.

“There was light!”

Lucia nodded her head.

“That refers to the moment God created the world. It’s quite a famous phrase.”

“A friend of mine loves that passage. He’s also a lifelong believer.”

“Oh, I see.”

In truth, I often recite that line every time I turn on the lights or light a match; there’s nothing beyond my friend’s habitual prattle about it.

However, Lucia knew none of this and simply smiled as she continued.

“I love that phrase too. But my favorite line is different.”

Lucia began to eloquently recite her favorite passage in a melodious voice.

“Do not be afraid of them, nor be dismayed at their words, for you are surrounded by thorns, and even dwelling among scorpions; do not be afraid of their words or be dismayed by their looks.”

“……”

“As a child trembling during thunderstorms, my mother often told me that verse during those nights.”

I listened intently as Lucia spoke.

There is little known about Lucia’s background, with only a few bits of information outside of the classified data possessed by the intelligence agency bearing the name of the Inquisition, which had tried to piece together records on Lucia.

That made Lucia an enigmatic figure, even within the intelligence agency that deals with numerous secretive matters.

Her parents were clergymen, and Lucia grew up in a family of devoted believers. She had taken classes from a specific professor during her seminary years, and her mother had shared with her a certain verse.

This was new information.

As I stored the discovery in my mind, I pretended to be surprised and spoke to Lucia.

“I didn’t expect to hear about your family history here.”

“Well, I haven’t shared it before…”

Lucia smiled sheepishly, taking a short breath as if gathering herself before proceeding.

“Speak of your current endeavors.”

“Me?”

“Yes. The investigation you mentioned last time.”

“Oh, that one.”

Lucia smiled gently, her expression imbued with sincerity.

“I don’t know the specifics since you haven’t relayed them to me, but I will pray for you to remain unharmed. Please take care.”

As Lucia offered to pray for me, she clasped her hands together and lowered her head.

A saint’s prayer. Something I could never hope to receive, even if the Emperor of the Empire tried to shower me with gold.

Whether a prayer would yield any results, I have no idea, but the fact that she would take time out of her busy schedule to pray for me was greatly appreciated. I bowed my head to Lucia, thanking her.

“Thank you, Saint Lucia.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“But you dodged the question I asked earlier in a rather odd manner.”

Lucia, softly smiling, responded.

“You must have misunderstood me.”

“No, it’s not a misunderstanding; you genuinely didn’t answer—”

“It’s a misunderstanding.”

“…….”

Lucia dismissed my concerns with that brazen attitude.

Are the religious figures in this town as thick-skinned as they come? Would the saint be playing poker and catch the pope? Just what’s wrong with these people!

Caught off guard momentarily by her audacity, a sharp bell rang, cutting through the silence.

“What’s that sound?”

“Oh, it’s my phone.”

Hastily, I checked my phone. The number designated for Francesca was on the screen.

“My apologies. I thought it was on silent mode.”

“That’s alright. Just ensure you switch it to silent or vibrate during service. Professor… I mean, Archbishop Theodosius really dislikes it when phones ring during worship.”

“I will be careful. Just a moment while I take this call…”

“Go ahead.”

I took my leave from Lucia, moving to a location where the conversations of others wouldn’t reach.

As soon as I pressed the call button, Francesca’s voice instantly filled the line.

“Can you hear me, Colonel?”

“I hear you clearly. What’s up?”

“I have some good news.”

Francesca continued.

“Today, I received word from the wizard. There is someone who wishes to meet with you and me.”

“Who is it? Please tell me their name.”

“It’s Hormoz.”

Francesca quietly whispered.

“The Hormoz of the Palm Tree Trade Guild.”

“…….”

“Looks like I finally got a bite.”

“Please provide me the time and location. I’ll prepare myself.”

The break was over.

It was time to head to work.